“Leif talked about you a lot,” she said.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral,” he said.
“Your commander said you were shot.”
“Yes.”
The woman’s eyes lowered, and Georgia felt her wishing her husband had survived his gunshot wounds.
“I’m also sorry I haven’t contacted you before now,” Carson said.
“I didn’t expect you to.” The awkward way she clasped and unclasped her hands and looked around the room said otherwise.
“You must have questions that their commander didn’t answer,” Georgia said.
Carson looked at her as though he wanted to clamp her mouth shut. His mission was classified, but didn’t this poor woman deserve some kind of explanation?
The woman looked at Carson with hope she didn’t attempt to hide. “It has been difficult. Not knowing how...” Her voice trailed off.
Not knowing how her husband died. All she knew was he’d been shot in the line of duty.
“Did Sergeant Major Copeland talk to you?” Carson asked.
“He called. After the police left. It was quite a shock hearing from him.”
She hadn’t considered that the break-in might be related to her husband’s death. And Copeland hadn’t told her much.
“Who was it and what are they looking for?” she asked.
Georgia looked at Carson expectantly. He’d better give her something. The poor woman.
“When the mission went bad, the information that we were sent to intercept wasn’t recovered. Recently, we’ve learned it’s been missing all this time.”
“So...” The woman thought a moment. “You think someone came here to get it?”
“Do you still have his personal items? The items that the military gave you after...” His death.
She stared at him, tortured with what happened to the man she loved. But then led them down a hall to the master bedroom. In the closet, she dragged out a box. It was in a place for easy access, and Georgia guessed she must go to that box at her loneliest times.
“Were you in here when the break-in occurred?” Carson asked.
“Yes. I heard a noise outside. When I looked out the window, I saw a man in all black in my yard. I went to get my son and locked us in the bedroom while I called for help. He was inside when police arrived.”
“He never made it up here?”
“No. But police caught him on his way up the stairs.”
So close to her room. She must have been terrified. But the box had been in the room with her, behind a locked door. The robber hadn’t succeeded in getting what he was after.
Carson began to carefully go through the contents of the box. There was a baseball cap that he held for a moment, memories enveloping him, no doubt. He held a dog tag, then a T-shirt. He went through his pack. That was mostly empty aside from clothing. There were no weapons in the box except for a sheathed knife fastened to the waist strap of the pack.
“That was his dad’s,” Leif’s widow said.
Carson removed it from the pack. “He had it with him everywhere he went.”
Georgia saw how it hung from the pack. Once the waist strap was secured, it would have been easily accessible in a fight. Watching Carson inspect the knife, she saw that it had a pouch for a sharpening stone. If the data had been stored on a flash drive, it would fit perfectly there.
She knelt beside Carson and reached for the knife. Looking at her quizzically, he gave it to her. She released the button holding the stone-sharpener pouch closed, slid her fingers inside and felt smooth plastic. She brought out a black flash drive and held it in front of her, shock singeing her as she was sure it was doing to the other two, as well.
Carson took it from her, cursing.
“How did he end up with that?” Georgia asked.
Carson looked from her to Leif’s widow. “The terrorists ambushed us. The man they were meeting drove up at the same time the terrorists did. He ran from gunfire. Leif must have chased after him.” He looked over toward a window, and Georgia saw him getting lost in memory.
She pictured him fighting off terrorists, losing track of his friend.
“When the terrorists ran, I searched for Leif. He was lying next to a burning pickup truck. Stephen Chow must have shot him.” He lowered his head in remorse. “I didn’t see him go down.”
Going to him, Georgia knelt beside him and put her hand on his back. He lifted his head, helplessness that was so uncharacteristic of him heavy in his eyes. Then he looked up at Leif’s wife. “I’m sorry.”
The woman stood there with silent tears rolling down her face. “Just get the man who killed him.”
Carson’s fist clenched where it lay suspended over his muscular thigh. “I will. I promise you. I will.”
The woman moved toward the box, bending over to pick up the baseball hat Carson had held so long. Wiping her tears, she handed him the hat.
He took it, slipping it onto his head and grinning through his sorrow. “Thanks.”
She straightened. “It’s okay that you didn’t make it to his funeral. I knew where you were. And I know how much Leif cared about you.”
“He also had you and your son.”
The woman shook her head. “He was where he wanted to be. He loved us, but he loved the Marines just as much. Don’t kid yourself into thinking he was a family man. He was, but only when the military allowed it.”
“He wanted to be here with you.”
“Yes. Of course he did. He loved me.”
And she’d loved him, too, enough to share him with his passion. Georgia stood up, Carson doing the same, reaching for the knife. When she handed it to him, he put the flash drive back into the pouch and fastened it shut.
“Do you mind if I keep this for a while?” Carson asked Leif’s wife.
“Keep it.”
It made great camouflage. No one had discovered it there when his things were being transferred.
“I’ll make sure he gets credit for completing a successful mission,” Carson said.
The mission hadn’t been a failure as he’d originally thought. His best friend had seen to its success.
Carson spotted the car behind him as soon as they drove away from Leif’s house. He turned a few corners to be sure and then sped up the rental. The car behind them sped up, too.
“What...” Georgia looked back. “Here? He followed us here?”
Carson found that extraordinary, as well. “He’s not working alone.” Terrorists worked in groups. Stephen could not have pulled off what he had in Myanmar by himself. He hadn’t completed his delivery, but he’d gotten damn close. He’d planned how to steal the technology, stolen it and then managed to get it to North Korea’s back door. No, he had to be working with others.
Swerving into the next turn, Carson revved the engine and drove fast—but not too fast—on Umpqua Highway. It wound its way along the Umpqua River. He’d studied a map on the flight here so that he’d memorized every escape route from Leif’s house in case something like this occurred. He could lure the driver of that car back there to a remote location and with strategic methods beat information out of him.
The driver wasn’t Stephen. He’d studied the man in the rearview mirror. That confirmed his earlier assessment.
Georgia kept twisting to look back.
“Can’t you go any faster?”
He glanced at her a few times as dawning came to him. She hated violence. He was about to use violence on the driver of the car behind them. Their rental could easily outspeed the one the other man drove.
Carson debated what to do. He looked in the rearview mirror. An opportunity wasted if he didn’t lure the man.
He looked at Georgia again. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was breathing faster than normal. She was frightened.
He continued to drive as he had for a few miles as that filtered through him. He’d only had to think of what had to be done and then do it. Now he had another person t
o consider. A lovely person he cared about greatly.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She turned to him. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have led him here.”
“Here?” She looked through the windshield, then his window, then hers and then back at him. “What are you talking about?”
He downshifted with the touch of the gearshift and gave the car plenty of gas.
What he didn’t anticipate, and what hadn’t been on his map, was the construction that must have started that day. As they approached a bridge that was blocked down to one lane with a worker holding a stop sign in their direction, Carson slammed on the brakes as Georgia screamed.
So much for sparing her violence.
He maneuvered the rental through a fishtail and took a dirt road to avoid running over the worker, who had leaped off the road and fallen on the grassy side.
The road came to a dead end at a cottage, of all things. Carson parked. The car behind him hadn’t appeared yet.
“What are we going to do now?”
Georgia was breathing really fast, and she gripped the door handle harder than she needed to.
“Georgia.”
Her head jerked toward him.
“I’ve got this.”
She started to take slower, deeper breaths.
“That’s my girl.” He took out one of the two pistols he’d strapped to his body when they’d arrived.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“We’re going to get back to the jet, and then we’re going to go home.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
He shoved the clip into his second pistol and held it as they stared at each other. The way she’d said that held deeper meaning, as though his home felt like her home, as though she wanted to go there with him.
A bullet shattering the back window jarred them from the heat.
“Get down!” Carson yelled.
He opened the door and started firing as he left the rental, rolling and rising to his feet to fire again. He got the driver of the car. But what concerned him was that there were two cars now. And the driver of the second vehicle was Stephen Chow.
Chapter 13
Carson was about to attack Stephen when he heard helicopters overhead. Running to Georgia, he opened her door and aimed his gun over the top of the roof. She stayed inside the car as Stephen tried to turn his car around, but vehicles appeared on the road and trapped him. Armed military men got out of the SUV with weapons drawn.
Stephen got out with his hands in the air, dropping his weapon. He was going to be arrested. Carson’s teammate would have his justice. That should feel more rewarding than it did. While he was satisfied Stephen Chow would never be able to hurt anyone else, his friend was still dead.
Carson stuffed his guns away and gave Georgia his hand.
She took it and he pulled her out of the car as the helicopters landed. She watched with parted lips as men swarmed the clearing and Stephen was taken to one of the choppers.
Carson recognized Copeland as he approached.
Keeping his arm around Georgia, he guided her so that they faced his commander.
“Carson.” Copeland nodded once and then looked at Georgia.
“It’s good to see you, sir,” Carson said.
“We had him tracked after the robbery attempt.”
Of course he had. Carson smiled. “Thanks.”
“He must have known you’d go there after you heard about the robbery.”
“Because he knew who had the data. And if we didn’t have it, that meant Leif still did.” And where would his personal belongings be sent after his body was shipped back to the United States? Home.
“After you called, I got a search warrant for his house,” Copeland said. “Found all kinds of incriminating evidence. He was actively trying to get duplicate data of what he lost in Myanmar. The girl he was lying to talked to us. It’s enough to put him away.”
Georgia’s head fell onto Carson’s shoulder. He looked at her and decided she was in dire need of some serious pampering.
* * *
When they arrived back at the ranch, Georgia slept in her own bed, too uncomfortable to sleep with Carson. She was so out of sorts when it came to him. Did moving on from always watching out for Ruby mean taking up with a new man? A rich man? She wouldn’t fall in love with him for his money. She’d fall in love with him for who he was, his humble and heroic nature. His fun-loving way.
The next day she avoided him, only to discover that she didn’t need to. He’d been at work all day. It was six in the evening and she was beginning to miss him.
“Why don’t you bring him some dinner?”
Startled, Georgia turned to see Ruby enter the kitchen. It took her a moment to think clearly. Luckily she’d waited before bursting with excitement and putting a picnic together.
“We should go home. The shooter is caught. Carson will be able to concentrate on finding Jackson. He can call us to keep us apprised of his progress.” If he made any. “You have your inheritance. There’s no need for us to stay any longer.”
Ruby was slow to smile. She’d spent that time assessing her, guessing, knowing. She walked toward her, coming to a halt before her, reaching out to brush some hair from Georgia’s cheek.
“All of that is true, Georgia. But I’m not ready to go yet.”
Georgia stepped back and angled her head, defenses rising. “Why not? We’re imposing now. We should go.”
Ruby laughed softly. “We aren’t imposing. These are the most gracious, welcoming people I’ve met since your dad.”
“You’re falling for Hayden.” Why did she feel so betrayed?
“Yes, I am, but it’s still early. I want to rent a place here. Stay a few months. See where things go.”
Well, she could afford to now. The biting comment stayed in Georgia’s head.
“You know what I think?”
“What?” she snapped harsher than she intended.
“I think you feel so much for Carson that you’re confused.”
“Confused?”
“Yes. You don’t know what to do with the way you feel. And I feel partly to blame.”
Georgia looked away, well aware of what she meant.
“Let’s stay. Just for a few more days.”
“Mom—”
“I love you, Georgia,” Ruby cut her off, defusing her in an instant. “I’m going to use your overprotectiveness in my favor one more time and insist we stay, at least until after the party.”
“Party?” Another snooty party? “What party?”
“There’s a big family reunion planned for this weekend. Saturday night. We’ll meet everyone. You should be there, Georgia. You need to be there. You can see for yourself that all of these people are no different than you or I.”
Georgia folded her arms and tipped her head to look upward. She felt trapped and yet the idea of staying longer, being with Carson longer, excited her.
“Yes, I know you went to Kate’s fund-raiser and had a reaction to two of the attendees.”
“How do you know that?”
“Two, Georgia. Out of how many? And were they part of the family?”
“Who told you?”
“I talked to Carson this morning.”
“You did what?”
“He needed to know a few things about you. Imagine my surprise—and delight—when he said he already knew. He knows you, Georgia. And he’s going to fight for you. Forget about all his money. What kind of man is he?”
She could argue that Reginald and Patsy were part of his family but she didn’t. She understood what Ruby was saying. Carson was an incredible man who was overcoming past rebellion and getting to know his father, getting close to the man he once was and loving him for that. Patsy was another issue, but Carson was nothing like her.
Her heart won over her brain. “All right. Until after the party.”
“Good. It’s settled then.” Ruby clapped her hands toge
ther. “Now. How about that dinner? Carson said he wouldn’t be home until late.”
Could she do it? Bring him dinner? Did she want to?
Yes.
It would be fun. Spontaneous. Especially if he wasn’t expecting it.
“Will you help me?”
Ruby’s warm smile spoke volumes about her happy state. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She may not, but how did Georgia feel? She was a jumble of confusion, fighting for sense and not sure she’d ever find it.
* * *
Carson finished reading over the latest launch-campaign management plan for AdAir Corps’s next communications satellite. They were due to launch in two months. Sending the email with his final comments, he sat back on the chair and let out a sustained breath. He hadn’t worked a long day like this since he was in the Marines, and boy, was it different work.
His gaze caught on the ancient Chinese ceramic bowl as it often did. The piece had become a bittersweet reminder of who his father had been, the real man underneath the ruthless exterior.
Thinking of his father, he took out the folder with everything Reginald had gathered pertaining to Jackson’s disappearance. He read through it all again with fresh eyes, searching for anything that he could have missed. The frustrating truth was there was nothing to go on and there hadn’t been since his half brother vanished. He hated contemplating that Jackson was one of those real statistics where a murderer got away with his crime. It happened more often than most people realized. Those crime shows that were so prevalent on TV only covered the ones that were solved, the stupid criminals that made mistakes. When would he and his family have to face that Jackson may well be one of those victims?
But Carson didn’t feel that Jackson was dead. It was a sense. He was alive. Somewhere. Carson just had to find him. He wasn’t giving up until he did. He could not lose faith. Even though it seemed hopeless right now, faith would get him through. Faith would keep him searching.
A soft knock on his office door caused him to look up. Georgia stood there in jeans and a T-shirt. He grinned because that was so unlike her.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
She smiled back, turning to bend over and get a picnic basket. He got a nice view of her butt.
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