I was so confused. And the thing I kept thinking about was what I’d seen in Emily’s notes. There was this symbol on some of the pages. It was handwritten on some of the pages that were scanned into the computer from a physical copy. Others were made awkwardly out of letters from the keyboard. It was a symbol I’d associated with Peter and Luke since I was a little girl.
It started as a joke. Peter and Luke were the same age, and they were often in the same classes at school. We went to public school—my parents believed that a private school education wasn’t as well rounded as a public school one—despite the fact that Mrs. Murphy had to drive us every morning because we were on the very edge of the district and the buses didn’t come to our part of town. Anyway, Peter and Luke were often in the same class, but they couldn’t talk during class. So they developed this sort of shorthand that they could use to communicate. When they were young, it was so they could share their opinions of the previous night’s television shows. When they were older, it was a way to talk about the pretty girls in their class—until Luke and I started dating, of course.
This one symbol came to represent their friendship. It was a sort of cluster of y’s. Kind of like a flower, but not really. Peter’s always looked sort of like a pinwheel while Luke’s looked like an awkward flower.
It was that symbol that had been on some of Emily’s notes. But Luke had never touched the thumb drive, as far as I knew, and Peter was dead.
Who was drawing those symbols on Emily’s notes? And how did they even know about it?
And all the pages where the symbols appeared? Those were the pages that asserted Garner and MacDonald, even Luke, were the masterminds behind the recent terror attacks.
Somebody was playing a game with us and we were playing right into their hands.
The door burst open and Garner himself walked in.
“You should try to get some sleep, Ms. Bradford.”
“Murphy,” I said.
He looked up. “Excuse me?”
“My name is Murphy. Luke and I were married last night…well, the night before last, I suppose it is now.”
“Congratulations.”
I inclined my head slightly.
Garner gestured for me to sit, but I preferred to keep pacing.
“Mr. Dubois refuses to speak to us. He says that he won’t speak until we allow him to see you.”
“Hayden is a loyal friend.”
“All of your people are very loyal to you, Mrs. Murphy. I think that’s what has made this entire investigation so difficult.”
I glanced at him, but I didn’t say anything.
“I can see that you don’t trust me. So why don’t you allow me to explain a few things. And then maybe we can get on the same page and maybe bring an end to this thing.”
I didn’t say anything; I just continued to watch him. He opened a file folder and slipped out a picture of Peter’s crashed car. I winced. I’d seen the same picture a dozen times over, but it was still difficult to look at, to see Peter’s blood all over the airbag and the passenger seat. It brought to mind the day Sam and I went through his belongings.
I hadn’t seen any of Peter’s things since his death. I didn’t go to his house when Daddy had it packed up. I couldn’t bear to walk through those rooms knowing that Peter would never be there again. I knew his things were sitting in a storage building somewhere downtown, and that Daddy would give me the key if I wanted to go look at his pictures, touch his clothes, and smell his cologne. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, just as Daddy couldn’t bear to clean out his office at Bradford Telecommunications. It was just too hard.
But this…this could give me a clue as to why he died. I wanted to believe that he wasn’t at fault for his own death. And I wanted to believe that Amber was telling the truth because I could see how hard Cole was falling for her. And how hard we were all falling for that baby.
I bit my lip, took another long swallow of wine, and picked the heavy bag up.
“We need a knife.”
Sam passed a pair of scissors to me. “One step ahead of you.”
I smiled gratefully at her, but the smile quickly disappeared as I touched the scissors to the evidence tape. I knew basically what I was going to find in there, but I was still afraid. I cut slowly, watching the tape separate. When it was loose, the fold in the large, clear, plastic bag came undone.
The briefcase was the first thing to poke through. It was a dark leather satchel that I bought Peter in Germany during a brief stay there on my way home from Afghanistan. It had his initials next to the lock. I ran my fingers over it after I slipped it out of the bag and before I set the satchel aside. Then I lifted out a sweatshirt. It was one of Peter’s favorites, one he wore just about everywhere, even when he had on a suit underneath. I pressed it to my face, and for a second, I could feel Peter underneath. His scent still lingered ever so slightly. But when I lowered the shirt, I saw blood splattered across the front.
It felt like my heart was in a vice. That was Peter’s blood. My Peter. He was really dead.
Sam moved up behind me and laid her hand on my shoulder.
I carefully folded the sweatshirt and set it beside the satchel. Peter’s keys were there, the insurance papers from his glove box, a cracked travel mug that still smelled of the ridiculously strong coffee he loved to drink, a few mints, and other odds and ends. And his cellphone. The screen was cracked and the battery was dead.
I shuttered a little at the memory.
“Sorry,” Garner said, moving the picture aside.
I shook my head, pacing again. I still had that sweatshirt. It was in a drawer in my bedroom, in a place where I could pull it out and look at it in the dark moments before dawn. The rest I’d given to my father. For all I knew, he’d thrown them away. Or put them in that office that he still looked at as a shrine to Peter.
“I’m tired,” I said quietly. “I don’t really want to rehash all this. I just want to go home to my husband.”
“I understand that. But I hope you understand that you and your family are still in danger. The person behind all this, the person who has been sending us all on a wild goose chase, is still out there.”
“I know.”
“And I think you and your friends know who it is.”
I stopped and focused on him. “Don’t you think if we knew who was torturing us, making it impossible for us to feel safe, we would do something about it?”
“I’m sure you would.” He sounded so reasonable. “I think you know who it is; I just think that you’ve been misled so much that you don’t realize who it is.”
I shook my head, feeling like he was talking in circles.
He sat down and set out a few more pictures. I walked to the table, staring at my own face through the front window of my office building. And Sam. My heart hurt to see Sam sitting there at her desk like it was just another normal day.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said softly. “She was very brave, taking that bullet for Mr. Dubois.”
“She loved him.”
He nodded, a touch of grief crossing his face that only someone who’d been there would recognize.
“I suppose Mr. Murphy informed you that he was working with us these last two years, yes?”
“He said he was watching over me, making sure I didn’t learn anything more about all this than I needed to know.”
His eyebrows rose. “We were actually hoping for the opposite. We were hoping that he was so close to you that he would be able to extract answers from you about your brother’s investigation, his death, and the things you learned from both Peter and Emily Greene.”
“Why would you have him change his face?”
Garner frowned. “That was his idea. He said that your split was not amicable and that was the only way he’d be able to get close to you. My supervisors felt that it was important enough that he remain close to you that they agreed.”
“It wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m begi
nning to think that.”
It was funny the way he was talking to me. Like he wanted to be agreeable. Or like he’d never heard some of this before.
“I’m going to give you a few names and I’d like to know if you know any of them. Do you think you could do that for me?”
I shrugged. “I’d like to see Hayden.”
“If I let you see him when we’re done here, will you cooperate?”
I glanced at the two-way mirror behind Garner. “Do I have any choice?”
He glanced back too, and then focused on me. “William MacDonald.”
“He’s your second in command. He gave orders to Luke on several occasions.”
“Thomas Philips.”
I shook my head.
“Kyle Sumner.”
I shook my head again.
“Edgar Olsen.”
My head came up slightly. “He was Emily’s handler in Paris. He helped Dominic after she died.”
“How?”
I shrugged. “I guess Dominic drove to California to get information from him.”
“What kind of information?”
I shook my head again, trying to remember. “I don’t know. He said Edgar was working with Emily, slipping her information. And that he was with the CIA, but he’d been forced out for reasons he didn’t know.”
Garner shook his head. “Olsen is still an active agent.”
“Why would he lie to Dominic about something like that?”
Garner didn’t comment.
“Does Luke know Olsen?”
I shrugged. “He mentioned a friend—a couple of friends, actually—but never by name.”
It was a little bit of a lie. But I was exhausted and my head was spinning as all these pieces of the puzzle tried to fit themselves into the right places.
I just wanted to get out of there and go find Luke. I needed answers, and I knew he knew them.
“Emily was investigating the terrorist cell in Paris, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And there were notes?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they now?”
“I gave them to a friend. She might still have them.”
“Julie Humphry?”
Now it was my turn to be a little surprised. “What makes you think that?”
“She was registered at the hotel.” He smiled when I did a bit of a double take. “I wouldn’t be a very good agent if I didn’t know where someone like Julie Humphry was, would I?”
I dragged my fingers through my hair. “I’m really tired. Do you think we could take a break for a while?”
He shrugged. “Of course. I’ll take you to your friend.”
Garner led the way down the hall, not bothering to handcuff me. In fact, he’d never handcuffed me. We were in a police station in downtown Dallas, a busy place with lots of interesting people wandering around. I almost expected to be taken to a cell, but Garner led me to a room that looked more like a lounge than an interrogation room.
“Mrs. Murphy,” he said, laying his hand on my shoulder to stop me from going inside. “I know that it seems almost impossible to tell who the good guys are and who the bad guys are in this scenario. And I understand your weariness to trust me. But I have to tell you, if you don’t trust someone, you will find yourself or another of your loved ones in a grave very soon. Do you understand?”
“I do trust someone, Mr. Garner. I trust the people I’ve surrounded myself with these last few years. I trust Luke and Vincent and Marcus and Dominic. And I trust Hayden.”
“I’d like you to trust me.”
I studied his face for a long moment. “I’d trust you more if you’d let me go.”
“Fair enough.”
He walked off, leaving me alone at the door. I turned and went inside. Hayden was sitting on a cold, metal chair. The moment he saw me, he jumped up and gave me a huge bear hug.
“I was so worried.”
I put a finger to his lips, pointing toward the two-way mirror. I was pretty sure they were watching us, wondering what we might say when we thought there was no one else around. He nodded. Then he just hugged me again
Garner returned ten minutes later.
“You’re free to go. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Chapter 25
Luke
We were sitting on the plane, about to take off, when Mr. Bradford came rushing up the steps.
“It’s her!”
He held out his phone to me, Megan’s face laughing at me. I snatched it from him and pressed it to my ear.
“Megan?”
“Leave it to my dad to refuse to give up his cellphone.”
I closed my eyes, relief like you wouldn’t believe washing over me. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah. Nothing a few years of sleep won’t cure.”
“Where have you been?”
“Garner. He brought us into the police station. But he let us go.”
“What did you say to him?”
“Nothing, really.” She sighed. “But there’s something about Emily’s notes—”
“I know, babe. Julie showed them to me.”
“How did that symbol get on there, Luke?”
“It’s complicated.” Dominic snorted, but I ignored him. “Can you get to Love Field? We’re in the plane.”
“Yeah. Why are you in the plane?”
“I’ll explain when we get there.”
She didn’t argue, which was unusual for Megan. It made me wonder what she thought she already knew.
I handed the phone back to Mr. Bradford. He slapped me on the shoulder.
“Be careful, son.”
They were standing beside a yellow cab when we taxied to the hangar. I got off the plane and pulled her into my arms, devouring her as much as I could with the audience we had. Hayden was staring daggers at me there on the tarmac and the others—Vincent, Marcus, Dominic, and Cole—were watching from the plane. But for that split second, I didn’t care.
I pulled her close and kissed her like we’d never kissed before. She molded her body against mine and moaned softly against my mouth. I’d thought I might never see her again. Everything I’d done, all the sacrifices I’d made to protect her, and it might have all been for nothing. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I was never going to let her go again.
But then she pushed against my chest.
“What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.
I groaned. She was angry. There was nothing worse than Megan when she was angry.
Chapter 26
Hayden
The gun felt good in my hands. No matter how long I’d been out of the service, I’d always feel better with a gun in my hands. Life was in control when I was in control of a weapon.
I sat back in the hot car and watched Megan. She was holding a gun too, down by her side. Her expression was unreadable, but I knew she was worried. She hadn’t liked the plan when Luke and Dominic explained it to her. Even though she agreed it was the best way to do things, she didn’t like it.
I didn’t like it, either.
We watched as the customers came and went out of the bar. It was mid afternoon, but the place was still fairly busy. Mostly younger people, but a lot of older drunks, too. I wasn’t sure we’d recognize him when he walked in, but then I shouldn’t have underestimated how cliché he looked.
He was CIA through and through.
Edgar Olsen. He was a senior CIA agent, a man who’d served his time in the field and then became a handler, running operations with other agents, and putting other agents’ necks on the line while he stood back and pulled the strings from a distance. Maybe it was that separation that had led to his feeling that the world owed him something.
This one man was behind everything that had haunted Megan’s life these last two years. This one man had run an entire terror cell, profiting off of the prior knowledge of the attacks, off of the deaths of innocents.
Leave it up to me and I’d execute him right here.
Not ten minutes after he entered the bar, Luke followed. He was wired and we had ear buds that allowed us to hear every word that was said. Dominic and Cole were running the surveillance equipment out of a rented van a few blocks away. Marcus and Vincent were already in the bar, pretending to be patrons—heavily armed patrons.
We were going to take this asshole down.
Megan glanced at me. She was clearly exhausted. She’d slept a little on the plane, but not nearly enough. I was worried about her, and that I was once again letting Sam down. I’d promised I’d look out for Megan.
“Promise me that no matter what happens, you will be there for her.”
I sobered, my eyes moving slowly over Sam. “Of course.”
“You’ll take care of her. You won’t let her go off with Dante or anyone else.”
“Sam—”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
I’d broken too many promises in my past. I couldn’t break this one.
“Hello, Edgar,” I heard Luke say over my earpiece. “It’s great to finally see you in person after all this time.”
“Luke, my brother.”
There was the sound of slapping, as if Edgar was smacking Luke on the back. Then:
“You’ve done it, then? You’ve gotten someone to publish Emily’s notes.”
“I have.”
“Wonderful. Now the world will know what the CIA has done. Now they’ll be crucified.”
“And the rest of us can go back to a normal life.”
Edgar chuckled. “If you can still remember what that is. How is Megan, by the way?”
“She’s good. Heartbroken over her brother’s death. And then her best friend, she was more like a sister to her, really.”
“Yeah. I bet.”
“Maybe it’s time to take her off the hook, brother.”
There was a long silence. I glanced at Megan. She was looking at me, a puzzled expression in those beautiful blue eyes. I shrugged and she shook her head, adjusting her grip on the gun as we continued to wait in the overheated car.
“I think it would be better to just let that sleeping dog lie, Luke. We don’t want to confuse anyone. Or make anyone’s life more complicated than it already is.”
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