“. . . send it all to me, Lanski,” Burke said. His closed the phone. His gaze fixed on her. “How are you?”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “Okay.” She smiled to illustrate her point.
He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her palm. “I’m glad.” He released her.
“I’ll cook breakfast this morning,” she said. “Think about what you’d like while I shower and dress.”
He didn’t respond.
“John. John?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hear what I said? About breakfast?”
“Breakfast, right.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
Eve nodded slowly. “I’ll get myself together and be right back.”
He smoothed back her hair, ran his thumb across her lips. “I was hoping you’d stay as you are. You drove me crazy the other day when you showed up for breakfast straight from bed.”
His eyes had darkened in a look she now recognized as passion. “I thought I’d put you off.”
He made a strangled sound. “Far from it.”
The thought and the appreciation in his eyes felt wonderful. She leaned in and kissed him. “I won’t be long.”
He nodded but she could see he’d lapsed into his own thoughts again.
* * *
He was like that for the rest of the day. Distracted was the only way she could describe it. Whatever he had on his mind was all consuming. Was he rethinking their intimacy? Regretting?
It hadn’t appeared so earlier, but the thought became a lead weight as the day progressed and he remained distant.
She turned her attention to the charge against her. She re-read the chemist profiles. Again, she found nothing in them to identify the person who’d switched her insulin.
By nine p.m., she was wrung out, emotionally and physically. Another day had ended and she was no closer to proving her innocence. Burke’s cell phone had remained silent all day. Lanski hadn’t called in with breaking news that would exonerate her either.
She could not despair. Not lose hope. Frustration and fear were taking a toll on her. She needed rest. Once she’d recharged, she would come up with a way to prove her innocence.
Seated across the table from her, Burke was making notes on a legal pad. He’d been at the task for some time. He looked as tired as she felt.
“Coming to bed?” she asked him.
He looked at her then. The first time in hours. “Later. You go ahead.”
* * *
She drifted into a dreamless sleep, after hours passed and Burke didn’t come in to bed. In the morning, when she awoke, she was still alone. She showered and dressed then found him where she’d left him last night—at the table in the kitchen.
His laptop was open, his index finger tapping the keypad. His brows were drawn together. The skin on his forehead was puckered with his frown as he read something on the screen.
A mug of coffee sat on the table. She took a sip and winced. Stone cold.
“John?”
He glanced up at her, his eyes heavy-lidded from the night without sleep.
“What are you still doing out here?” she asked.
“Tell me about Richard Patterson.”
“What?”
“Tell me about Patterson.”
“Why?” Her heart accelerated with a sudden thought. “Have you been going over the chemist profiles? Have you found something?” She set the mug down and glanced over his shoulder at his computer. Not the chemist profiles. The document he had open on the screen had her name on it. “What is that?”
“The Intel we gathered on Richard Patterson and you. I had Lanski send it to me.”
She linked her hands in a tight grip. “Have you found something?”
“No.”
Disappointment wrapped around her like a cloak.
“Tell me about Patterson,” Burke repeated.
“You already asked me about Richard. On the day he died. Remember? You have a dossier on him, I’m sure. I don’t know what you think I could tell you that your expert investigators haven’t told you.”
“You knew him. You had a line to him that we couldn’t have. Did he make any new friends recently? Reconnect with an old one? Start seeing a new woman? Change clothing stores, barbers, dentists?”
He’d asked the questions in rapid-fire. Eve felt the shift from lover to agent. She’d thought they were past that. Apparently not, and the realization hurt.
She placed her arms around herself in a tight hug. “I don’t know about any of that. He didn’t talk about those things with me. We didn’t socialize.” She shook her head slowly. “Didn’t spend anytime together out of the lab. We didn’t have a relationship apart from the work.”
“Tell me about Patterson’s work?”
She lifted one shoulder. “He was brilliant. One of the best in the cosmetology business.”
“According to his tax records, Patterson was doing well, but he wasn’t making what one of the best in business should be making.”
Burke was right about that. “Richard probably could have marketed his skill better, but he didn’t have the temperament to do that.” Eve rubbed her brow. “He was difficult to work with. Difficult with clients. I think the reason he took me on as a partner was so I could be the ‘people’ person of our firm. I spent a lot of time smoothing feathers he’d ruffled and putting out his fires.”
“So Patterson had problems playing nice with others.”
“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but I guess you could say that.”
“He had an expensive lifestyle. He spent more than he earned. Did you know about that?”
“I know he liked nice things. I don’t know the specifics.”
“Did you know he was siphoning money from the business? Charging meals, plane tickets, Italian suits to the business account?”
“I knew of some.”
“Only some? He’d made significant withdrawals from your bank funds recently. He was stealing from you. How could you not know that?”
Eve flung her arm out. “I didn’t know it was that bad. Richard and I had gone head to head over his spending in the past. We always worked it out. In the last few months though, I noticed a change in his attitude about his work. He’d never given any project he took on less than his best. It was a point of pride with him. But he’d stopped caring. I thought he was losing interest in the business and was gathering funds to offer to buy him out.”
“Why did you think he was losing interest?”
“He’d stopped coming to work. Wasn’t completing projects. I don’t know what to tell you except what I’ve been telling you all along—I don’t know anything.” She shook her head. “Why did you have my case files sent, John? Why now?”
Burke got to his feet. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were taut with tension. A muscle throbbed in his cheek.
He rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m going to grab a shower then shut down for a few hours.”
“I—”
He was already gone.
* * *
Burke braced his hands against the shower stall and stuck his head beneath the spray. As the hot, pounding water struck him, he asked himself: Had he overlooked something in this investigation? Drawn conclusions about Eve in haste?
If so, it would be a first.
He was good at what he did. Very good. Yet, as he reviewed the information against her now, it no longer fit the way it had. Eve’s guilt no longer seemed apparent.
Richard Patterson had named Eve as his accomplice. That fact was indisputable. Yet there was no reason for him to have involved her. Patterson hadn’t been asked about a partner. Why had he named her at all? He’d implicated her. Why?
Did it matter except as something that Burke could latch onto to build a case in his mind that Patterson had set Eve up for some yet undetermined reason? That Eve was innocent?
Burke pressed his brow to the tile and closed his eyes. Did he w
ant so badly to believe she was innocent that he was grasping at straws? Seeing a set up that wasn’t there . . .
Eve was on the porch when he emerged from the shower. She stood against a post that he suddenly noticed needed a fresh coat of paint. He’d never noticed the post looked dull until Eve was beside it.
She didn’t turn when he joined her outside, but her shoulders tensed and he knew she was aware of him.
“Something is wrong with this case,” he said. “That something is you. You’re wrong.”
She looked at him then. Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears.
“You asked why I had Lanski send the files. Why now?” Burke’s voice thickened. “Because I know you now. I know you couldn’t have had anything to do with Patterson’s formula. Someone is using you as a scapegoat. We’re going to find out who that is.”
Her lips quivered. Tears spilled onto her cheeks.
He closed the distance between them and brought her to him in a crushing embrace.
* * *
In the aftermath of making glorious love, Eve lay with Burke’s arms around her, her head on his shoulder. A light rain had started. The bedroom window was open to the screen and Eve took a deep breath of the rain smell and the scents of earth and bark and wildflowers mingled with it.
“Until that deep breath, I thought you’d fallen asleep.” Burke’s voice came out of the darkness.
“I’m enjoying the rain.”
“Glad to hear it, but I’m getting sprayed,” Burke said with a laugh. He moved his arm from around her. “I’ll close the window.”
“I’ll do it. I want one last breath of rain-scented air.”
She left the warmth of the sheet and Burke’s body. The air had grown chill in the room, but Eve didn’t mind. At the window she inhaled once deeply, then regretfully closed the window.
She returned to the bed. When she pressed up against him, Burke sucked in a breath.
“You’re cold,” he said.
But he brought her close against him. He kissed her softly, tenderly. His hand moved over her at the same unhurried pace as his lips and her body began to respond. She laughed.
“Not the reaction I was going for.” Burke grinned.
“Sorry, it’s not you. Five years with no sex and now I can’t get enough. Amazing.” She laughed again.
Burke drew back. “Five years?”
Eve’s cheeks heated. She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to blurt that out.” She blew out a deep breath and scrambled for a change of subject. “How about those Red Sox?”
Burke frowned. “You haven’t been divorced for five years.”
Eve felt mortified. “No. Three, actually.”
She averted her eyes from Burke but felt the weight of his stare and his implied question.
It had been so long since she’d spoken of her marriage. So much time had passed. Eve shrugged, though she was far from indifferent about the topic.
“Some couples pull together in a tragedy,” she said. “When Emily died, Neil and I fell apart. We were both dealing with our grief over losing our daughter. Doing it separately. That was more my doing than his. When Emily died, a part of me died too. I lost interest in my life. That included my marriage and my husband. Neil moved out six months after Emily’s death. By then, we’d been living as strangers. I hardly noticed his absence.” Eve focused on the window, on the fat drops trickling down the glass. “Interest in Neil and our marriage weren’t the only things I no longer cared about. Nothing in my life mattered any more. And I was angry at everyone and everything.
“After Emily died, I took several months off work. When I went back, I started making mistakes. One of them compromised an investigation. Word got around that I couldn’t be trusted to do the job anymore. My boss suggested to me that I quietly resign. I was mad at the world at that point and lashing out. I refused to go away quietly. I made an allegation that I was being forced out—harassed—and went to the review board. I was hurting and I wanted to hurt someone else. My boss was a good man and didn’t deserve what I brought down on him, and when it was over, of course, I had nothing to base my allegations on. I caused a scandal and was terminated. I had crashed and burned.”
Burke’s lips brushed her hair. “You pulled yourself out of it.”
“Richard was looking for a partner to develop cosmetics. I had never considered going into that line of work but I realized that I’d had enough of death and working with the dead. I wanted to use my skill to create something for the living. Emily, like most little girls, I guess, had always wanted to wear fragrance like adult women, but the products available for children brought on her breathing problems. The first fragrance I completed was a blend of scents that she would have been able to tolerate. It was a sweet scent, designed for young girls and I named the cologne ‘Emily’. We made it available to the public as a not-for-profit product so that it’s inexpensive and affordable at modest income levels.”
Burke drew back and tipped back her chin so their eyes met. “I think Emily would be very proud of her mom.”
Eve blinked back tears and smiled. Nothing he could have said would have been better than that.
“Tell me about John Burke.”
Burke fingered a strand of her hair. “I’d rather talk about you.”
Eve rested her hands on his chest and gazed up at him. “How long have you worked for the CIA?”
Burke held her gaze for a moment. “Actually,” he said carefully, “I work for a covert division of the CIA called the Shadow Agency.”
“Shadow Agency?”
“Made up of a small team of agents I hand picked.”
“What do you do?”
Burke hesitated then said quietly. “We specialize in chemical weapons terrorism.”
Eve shook her head. “I had no idea chemical weapons had become such a threat.”
“Most people don’t. If we do our job right, they never will.”
“John—”
He caressed her cheek then nuzzled her neck. “Now, enough talk.”
Eve recognized that he would say no more about his work and accepted that. The very name of his agency bespoke of secrecy. When he took her in his arms, she leaned into him. Burke kissed her as his cell phone rang. He drew out the kiss, then removed one arm from around her and retrieved the phone from the nightstand.
He glanced at the screen then announced, “Lanski. Richard Patterson’s autopsy was today. I’ll put Lanski on speaker.” He pressed the button. “Go ahead, Lanski.”
“I have the results on Richard Patterson’s autopsy. Cause of death was the result of heart failure. Doc said Patterson’s heart just gave out. No foul play. It would have happened anywhere.”
“Okay. That’s it then.” Burke closed his phone and faced Eve. “We can now rule out that one of Richard’s associates decided to get rid of him.” His grip on the phone tightened. “Damn. I was hoping his death might give us a lead.”
“We’re no closer to resolving this than we were three days ago,” Eve said.
They lapsed into silence. In the quiet, Eve became aware of the bedside clock, ticking.
Imposter: Chapter Twelve
Eve shifted in Burke’s arms. He kissed her temple and tightened his hold. It was still raining lightly. Night had fallen.
“Use me,” Eve said softly in the darkness.
“What?”
“Use me,” she repeated. “Set me up to lure Richard’s buyer.”
Moonlight coming in through the curtains provided enough light to see by. Burke rose onto an elbow, looming over her. “No.”
“Listen to me, John. There is no other way. We’ve run out of options. You said you believe I’m innocent.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I know you’re innocent.” He no longer had any doubt about that.
“Then use me to prove it. Disclose my location.” Her words came out in a rush. “You believe the buyer wants me out of the picture, set me up. Let him know where he can find me.”
Burke shook his head. “I won’t use you as bait.”
“We have no choice.”
“Yes, we do. I will continue to hunt for the buyer.”
“Time is running out. We can’t stay here forever.”
“You’re right we can’t. My office will issue a statement that Richard Patterson is dead and a bogus statement that you were cleared of all charges. Next we’ll go through the same venues Patterson did and offer the formula for sale. The buyer wants the formula and Patterson’s accomplice wants his portion from the sale. They will both make contact.”
“That could take weeks or months.”
“You’ll be in protective custody—”
“With my life on hold. My plan—”
“Your plan demands that you execute it alone. Without me. The thought of you in danger tears me apart. I won’t put you in danger myself.” He held her face between his palms. “I won’t risk you.”
She reached up and grasped his hand at her cheek. “I’m already at risk. From our own government, I face imprisonment, at best, if Richard’s accomplice is not found. The man has covered himself so well we may never find him.”
Her voice cracked. She closed her eyes. Burke could see her bringing herself back from the edge and his heart lurched.
“I will find him.” Burke’s voice was harsh. “Finding the accomplice is not just a job to me, Eve.” And he was going to have to deal with that.
She opened her eyes. Tears shone in them. She pressed her face against his throat and her arm wound around his waist in a death grip. Burke held her as tightly.
“I won’t risk you,” he repeated.
“I’m already at risk, John. Someone wants me dead. Do you really think a statement from your office clearing me will reassure the accomplice and buyer that I’m no longer a threat? I won’t be safe until they are found.”
She was right. Burke closed his eyes briefly and came to a decision.
Keeping one arm around Eve, he reached on the nightstand for his phone.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 56