Athena Force: Books 1-6

by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann

  But Kayla knew the real facts. Rainy hadn’t simply fallen asleep at the wheel. Her sudden collapse into slumber had been brought on by the Cipher and a gadget he’d used on Alex—Alexandra Forsythe, another of Kayla’s Cassandra sisters—as well as on Kayla herself. On separate occasions in totally different locations, both she and Alex had fainted for no apparent reason during the weeks after Rainy’s death. Like Rainy, Alex’s incident had occurred while she was driving. It was a miracle she hadn’t been badly injured…or worse.

  The Cipher had paid for his part in Rainy’s death. CIA agent Sam had tracked him down and had been forced to kill him in a standoff. But they were still no closer to finding whoever had sent the assassin than they had been weeks ago.

  “In pursuing this investigation,” Hadden went on, “we’ve uncovered a number of details that don’t add up where Marshall Carrington is concerned.”

  Kayla’s hackles rose instantly. “Look, Hadden, I know it’s SOP to suspect the spouse first and foremost when someone dies, but I can vouch for Marshall Carrington. There is no way he would have killed his wife. He loved Rainy.” Kayla blinked back the emotion that stung her eyes. “I know Marshall. He would never have hurt her. Never.” She couldn’t tell Hadden about the Cipher or anything else she and her Cassandra sisters had discovered. Not yet anyway.

  The waitress set two cups of steaming dark brew on the table. “Anything else?”

  Hadden lifted his hand in a negative signal and the young woman scurried off to help another customer who’d just arrived.

  “I don’t doubt Carrington’s character as a husband,” Hadden said, some indefinable emotion filtering into his tone. “This is about his business dealings.”

  Confusion lined Kayla’s brow. Hadden’s tone as well as his statement bewildered her. “Marshall is an archaeology professor. Outside his occasional jaunt to search for some ancient relic, what on earth could you find questionable about his profession?”

  Hadden’s expression closed then, like a bank vault door slamming shut to fend off trespassers. The abrupt change set Kayla on edge. Whatever he intended to share with her, there was a great deal more he planned to keep to himself. Somehow it related to Marshall. And she knew before he spoke that it was not good.

  “We have reason to suspect your friend Marshall is eyeball deep in a smuggling ring.”

  Chapter 2

  Noon had come and gone by the time Kayla showered twice—once just wasn’t enough, with her feeling as if that perp’s blood had penetrated deep into her pores. She’d scrubbed until her skin felt raw.

  She laid the hair dryer aside and stared at her reflection. But was the blood really what bothered her just now? Peter Hadden’s words kept echoing in her brain. We have reason to suspect your friend Marshall is eyeball deep in a smuggling ring.

  Not possible.

  Rainy’s husband would never be involved with any sort of criminal activity. Not knowingly anyway.

  Rainy’s husband.

  Kayla looked away from the telling emotion in her eyes. She’d gotten a little too attached to Marshall these past few months. It wasn’t intentional…she hadn’t meant to allow her feelings to stray into dangerous territory. But it had been like trying to stop an avalanche. Impossible.

  She’d always genuinely adored Marshall. Who wouldn’t? He was handsome, well-built, immensely charming and he had treated Rainy as if she were the absolute center of his universe. Who wouldn’t want a man like that?

  No. Kayla shook off that line of thinking and retreated to her bedroom to pull on some clean clothes. It wasn’t about Marshall either. It was about Rainy.

  Kayla sighed as she looked at her unmade bed. There was just never enough time. She dug through a pile of freshly laundered clothes that she hadn’t put away yet and selected her favorite jeans.

  Rainy had always teased Kayla about her ability to make a place look lived-in without any real effort. That was the way Kayla preferred things—no fuss.

  She tugged on her jeans. She missed Rainy so much. The hurt and tension stemming from her murder had drawn Kayla and Marshall together, that’s all. She knew better than most that stress did that sort of thing. It happened when you felt lost or detached from the rest of the world. You reached out to the closest human who might understand.

  Her thoughts drifted to her final year at Athena Academy. Rainy had graduated long before and gone off to Harvard. Alex had graduated as well, one year previously. Though Kayla had loved her other Cassandra sisters, she’d missed Rainy and Alex to the point of distraction. Her Navajo heritage had tugged at her more strongly that year than any other. She’d just felt out of sorts, torn between what she’d been taught as a child and all that she’d learned at Athena.

  Not that anything she’d experienced at Athena could be called bad in any way, but it had been different than the usual academic curriculum. Martial arts, weaponry, survival courses, multiple foreign languages. Too many other available studies to recall at the moment. The overall goal was the advancement and empowerment of women. All good. But somehow, in her senior year, Kayla had gotten off track, had lost some vital part of herself. In the search to regain completeness, she’d met and fallen for a cocky young officer from the Air Force base.

  The image of the man she’d allowed to break her heart all those years ago flashed briefly through Kayla’s mind. Her automatic instinct was to banish any thought of him. But Josie’s call a couple weeks ago had Kayla hesitating. Josie Lockworth was a dear friend and a Cassandra, as well as a rising star in the Air Force. The same branch of the military in which Jazz’s father still served.

  Mike Bridges wanted to know his daughter. Jasmine Michelle Ryan. The daughter Kayla had raised all alone. Admittedly, he had sent child support since the day Jazz was born, twelve years ago next month. And Kayla had been blessed with the full support of her family, so to say she’d done this alone wasn’t exactly accurate.

  But so many times she had felt alone.

  She shouldered into a sweatshirt, pulled her hair loose and began to braid it. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d been drawn to Marshall so strongly.

  It had been so very long since she’d allowed herself to need a man on a personal level, much less an intimate one. Peter Hadden slipped into her troubled thoughts next. Her heart reacted instantly, picking up a few extra, foolish beats.

  She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of the way he always looked a little rumpled. Sexy as hell. Totally the opposite of meticulously groomed Marshall. Peter Hadden was one of those men who made the just-dragged-out-of-bed look so appealing.

  Damn him.

  How many times had she longed to run her fingers through his tousled hair? To yank his rumpled suit clean off his body. To ensure that it was properly laundered and pressed, of course, she’d assured herself.

  Yeah, right.

  And those eyes. Amazing, she admitted, allowing the momentary lapse in sanity while no one was around to notice. But it was that damned smile that got to her the fastest. Sexy, flirty, and so warm. No, not warm. Hot.

  And even more than that, she found his dogged persistence dangerously tempting. No matter how often she pushed him away, he kept coming back. You had to love a guy who didn’t give up.

  Why couldn’t she simply enjoy him? Her fingers faltered in their work as she secured the end of her waist-long braid. Good question. She was twenty-nine. She’d scarcely even dated since Jazz became a part of her life. What prevented her from having a no-strings physical relationship with a man?

  Warmth spread down her limbs at the concept.

  Mike popped back into her head. Because her life was complicated enough.

  She’d fallen for a sexy smile and amazing eyes once before. Though Mike’s were hazel, the same combination of green and blue that Jazz had inherited, the effect was the same. He’d turned Kayla inside out with just a look.

  Maybe it was past time she’d allowed a man back into her life. Didn’t her own mother and sister broach that
very subject now and again? Like clockwork.

  Still, now was not the time. Until those behind Rainy’s murder and the fate of her offspring were solved, getting involved with anyone was out of the question. Especially considering this latest turn of events where Hadden was concerned. Kayla owed it to Marshall to protect him.

  No. She owed it to Rainy.

  Rainy had loved Marshall. Kayla would protect him for that very reason if for no other.

  She walked over to her bedside table and picked up the framed photograph of her precious daughter. Jazz had the same long dark hair as Kayla, the same features. Only the color of her eyes had made it from her father’s side of the gene pool. No fancy Ivy League college or high-powered career could have made Kayla’s life more complete. Like all Athena graduates she had received a scholarship offer from a prestigious school, Princeton, in fact. But Jazz was far more important to Kayla than anything else.

  The idea that Rainy might have at least one child out there—a child she hadn’t even known about—squeezed at Kayla’s heart. What had become of that child or children—if it even existed—was just another piece of the puzzle surrounding Rainy’s death.

  During Rainy’s autopsy, Alex had discovered that Rainy still had her appendix. Yet, all those years ago in school, Rainy had supposedly had an appendectomy during seventh grade.

  In the autopsy, Alex had also discovered scars—old scars—on Rainy’s ovaries. Now the remaining Cassandra’s were certain that someone had actually faked the appendectomy to mine her ovaries, stealing her precious eggs.

  Marshall had explained that when he and Rainy hadn’t conceived, they’d sought help from a specialist to no avail. That must have been when Rainy had begun to suspect the truth. And she’d never had a chance to tell her friends those suspicions.

  Kayla desperately needed to talk to that specialist. But Dr. Deborah Halburg had been out of the country for months now. No one knew when she was expected to return to her practice in Tucson.

  Darcy Steele, a Cassandra as well as a private investigator, had managed to find one woman, a Las Vegas showgirl known as Cleo Patra, who had gotten paid to be a surrogate mother around the same time as Rainy’s supposed appendectomy. Cleo had given birth to a baby, but had no idea what had happened to the child.

  Alex had connected with Justin Cohen, whose sister had died giving birth to a surrogate baby about nine months after that time. Justin was certain Athena Academy had something to do with his sister’s death, and the Cassandras had come to believe him.

  Tory, using her reporter’s instincts and connections, had discovered that a fertility clinic had been burglarized all those years ago and that one of the missing sperm specimens belonged to Navy SEAL and hero Thomas King. And when Tory had been sent to interview King on a completely unrelated story, someone had tried to kill them both.

  Sam had taken down the Cipher, the man who’d killed Rainy.

  Josie, who had connections in Army Intelligence, had looked for more information on the Cipher and had learned of an obscure lab, numbered 33, connected to some kind of an experiment called “cipher.” So far, they had found no connection between Lab 33 and Athena Academy. In fact, they’d found no further information about the mysterious lab at all. But the investigation was far from over.

  Using the skills Athena Academy as well as life had taught them, the Cassandras would work together to solve the rest of this mystery. Rainy might never have had the opportunity to know her child. But, if that child existed, it would know about its biological mother.

  The telephone rang and Kayla jerked out of her agonizing thoughts.

  She’d already heard that the two injured perps were out of surgery and stable. Maybe the investigator had more questions. She hoped not. Even the idea of a shooting being questioned by superiors gave most cops the willies. Kayla was no exception. Though she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, that fact didn’t keep her from experiencing a moment’s trepidation.

  “Ryan.”

  “Kayla, it’s Alex.”

  A new kind of anticipation erupted inside Kayla. “You have news?” She could scarcely breathe as she waited for Alex to respond. Alexandra Forsythe had once been Kayla’s best friend. That relationship had been strained this past decade or so. But she and Alex were working on that. It was a damned shame it had taken Rainy’s death to make them both realize they couldn’t let their old disagreement fester forever.

  Alex was still working with Justin Cohen, who was now an FBI agent, to find the truth about Justin’s sister and how her death might be connected to Rainy’s, so many years later.

  “Not the news you’d like to hear,” Alex told her, her tone far too somber.

  “What’s up?” Kayla sat down on the edge of the bed and tried not to jump to any conclusions or fear the worst. Even if all their leads ran into dead ends they had to keep searching. Couldn’t stop until they knew the whole truth.

  “This may be nothing, but I’ve got a feeling we shouldn’t let it pass without finding out.” Alex hesitated a moment as if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain of how to proceed. “Allison called me this morning.”

  Allison Gracelyn had attended Athena. She’d been in Rainy’s grade and was older than the Cassandras. Allison and Rainy had been good friends. Since Allison’s mother had founded Athena, Allison now served as a consultant on the school’s board. Like Kayla and the other Cassandras, Allison grieved Rainy’s loss.

  Alex continued, “I got the distinct impression that she was fishing. She’d tried to call Tory but couldn’t get her. She’s off on some story. Anyway, Allison wanted to know if we anticipated any further damage from Shannon Conner. I told her we thought Tory had that situation under control. But during the course of the conversation, Allison mentioned that there was an Athena Academy meeting of the board at one-thirty this afternoon.”

  “You think I should be there,” Kayla offered. Though she hadn’t been invited. That little detail wouldn’t stop her. Kayla glanced at the clock. 1:15 p.m. She might make it if she left right away.

  “I do, Kayla.” Alex sighed. “It’s difficult for me to bring myself to speak this way about the school, but something somewhere isn’t right. One or more members of the staff are hiding something. We have to know what that is.”

  Betsy Stone immediately came to mind. The Cassandras had learned that Ms. Stone, Athena’s school nurse, had also worked part-time for a Dr. Henry Reagan, at the time of Rainy’s “appendectomy.” They were convinced that Reagan had something to do with the surrogate mothers and Rainy’s eggs. Dr. Reagan had been Justin Cohen’s sister’s doctor during her pregnancy, as well as Cleo Patra’s.

  Nurse Stone admitted having worked with Dr. Reagan two days a week in his office years before his death, but knew nothing of any unethical practices.

  Then there was Christine Evans, Athena’s principal since the day the doors opened. Alex felt certain Christine was hiding something. Kayla got the same impression.

  But hunches and gut instincts alone didn’t solve cases.

  “I’m on my way,” Kayla assured Alex. It felt so good to talk to her again without all those years of tension in the way. Mike Bridges had done more than break Kayla’s heart. Getting involved with him had caused a twelve-year rift between Alex and Kayla. Alex had tried to talk Kayla out of getting too serious with Mike all those years ago. They’d argued bitterly. But that gap was slowly closing now. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  At 1:25 p.m. Kayla turned off Olympus Road and headed down Script Pass. She might make it on time. Showing up uninvited was tactless enough. Walking in once the meeting had officially begun went against the grain of even the most liberal etiquette.

  She stopped at the new guard shack that graced the entryway to the school and shuddered as she was reminded of just why the guard was now necessary. Christine Evans had decided, after Rainy’s death and subsequent suspicious events at the school, to post a guard twenty-four hours a day, even on holidays, to monitor visitor
s.

  She flashed her ID and continued on to the school buildings.

  She parked in the circle drive in front of the main building and jumped out of the Jeep before it stopped rocking at the curb.

  Kayla hurried up the walk that cut across the well-manicured lawn. Usually when she arrived at the academy she took a moment to admire the lawn and beautiful fountain surrounded by the current season’s gorgeous flowers. But that was the furthest thing from her mind today. The fact of the matter was, most things had taken a back seat to Rainy’s murder since that muggy August night.

  Whatever her distractions, Kayla always experienced an overwhelming sense of déjà vu when she entered those massive front entry doors. Boundless halls. Quiet rooms filled with memories. Voices and images from the past spent within these walls filtered through her mind, reminding her of those wondrous formative years shared with the Cassandras.

  If there was a long-buried secret hidden within these walls—walls that had always felt safe—Kayla had to find it. Not only for Rainy, but for all who would pass through these halls in the years to come. This school was a very special place. Whatever wrongs had been committed here would be righted.

  Kayla bypassed Christine’s office and headed straight for the conference room. Thankfully, the board members were just settling down around the long table as she entered the room.

  Christine Evans was the first to notice Kayla’s arrival. A former military woman, Christine still had that authoritative bearing, squared shoulders and head held high. Her short gray hair added to her distinguished air. “Kayla.” She met her halfway across the room. Gave her a quick hug. “What brings you here today?” Worry lines marred her brow as she surveyed Kayla’s face. Long ago, a military training accident had left Christine blind in her left eye, but she missed nothing. “Nothing’s happened, I hope.”