What She Doesn't See

by Debra Webb

  Alex’s heart lunged into her throat. She reached for the doorknob.

  “Don’t open the door, Alex!”

  Murphy’s words reverberated through her too late. Alex had already released the lock. She glanced back at him. A towel slung around his hips, a gun in his hand, Murphy was moving toward her. He was saying something… She watched his lips move, his words lost to the roar of her own blood in her ears.

  The door flew inward.

  “Get down!” Murphy shouted.

  Marg screamed. Alex whirled toward her. The man holding her mother at gunpoint abruptly hauled her away. Another man darted around him, a weapon in his hand. Alex saw the muzzle flash… heard the gunshot exploding in the room.

  A third man grabbed Alex and dragged her out the door.

  Chapter 20

  “You have ten seconds,” Wyatt warned.

  The paramedic glanced up at him but didn’t speak.

  “Murphy, the man is trying to patch you up,” Agent Ned Fairbanks admonished.

  “Three seconds and I’m walking out that door,” Wyatt warned anyone listening.

  “Good to go, sir.” The paramedic added a large bandage over the suture job on Wyatt’s side and stepped back. “You should have your personal physician look at that as soon as possible.”

  “Thanks.” Wyatt grimaced as he buttoned his shirt. “I’m gone.”

  Fairbanks checked his cell. “You know I can’t let you do this alone.”

  Technically, Fairbanks was not his superior. Wyatt tucked his weapon at the small of his back. Half a dozen agents were milling around Alex’s house. The agent assigned to Marg was en route to the ER. Two unidentified enemy agents were down, and a third was alive but refusing to talk.

  “You give me two minutes with our prisoner,” Wyatt suggested, “and I’ll let you tag along for the rescue.”

  “I don’t think so. I heard about what you did to Johnson. The director is not going to like it.”

  Wyatt had learned a long time ago that the director preferred to hear the job was done without all the gory details. “We’re wasting time.”

  Fairbanks hissed a heavy breath. “Do not make me regret this, Murphy.”

  Wyatt grabbed his car keys from where they’d fallen on the floor. He tossed them to the nearest agent. “There’s a gym bag in my trunk. I’m going to need it.”

  “I think I’ll wait outside,” Fairbanks announced.

  “Good idea.”

  When Wyatt had his gym bag, he ordered the rest of the team out of the house. He stepped around the two bodies on the floor waiting for removal and joined the lone survivor at Alex’s kitchen table. The guy’s hands were cuffed behind his back and his ankles were secured.

  Wyatt placed the gym bag on the table. He opened it and removed his tools. Hammer, box cutter, nails, and pliers. On second thought, he grabbed the hacksaw.

  “I have two questions for you.” When the cocky guy would have argued, Wyatt went on. “You will answer my questions. You can trust me on that.”

  Some of the man’s arrogance vanished.

  “One, where did they take the hostages?” Wyatt picked up the hacksaw and studied it. “Two, how many are in my way?”

  Alex couldn’t say for sure how much time had passed. An hour maybe. The men who’d kidnapped her and Marg had tied their hands and feet and blindfolded them for the ride. Once they’d arrived at wherever the hell they were, the same two men had hauled them into this dark room, ripped off their blindfolds, and left them here.

  Marg huddled close. She was still shaking. Alex wished she could hug her.

  “Do you think someone will come rescue us?”

  Alex smiled but it was too dark for her mom to see. “Absolutely. Murphy won’t let us down.”

  “I’m so scared, Alex.”

  Alex wiggled closer to her. “It’s okay to be scared, but we will get through this.”

  She closed her eyes and prayed this wouldn’t be the time she let her mother down. All this insanity was her fault. Please let us get through this and let Wyatt be okay…

  Those final moments in the house had played over and over in her head. The sound of the weapons discharging. Wyatt rushing toward her. Had he been hit by the gunfire? She wasn’t sure.

  He’ll be here.

  Metal scraped against metal and the door opened with a whine. Overhead lights came on, harsh and bright. Alex blinked as she tried to see the dark figures that entered the gray room. Not a regular room. More like a big walk-in vault.

  Two armed men who were dressed like guards or soldiers took positions on either side of the open door before a third man entered. Like Avery and Crane, this man appeared to be in his late sixties and distinguished, if not handsome. What was it with all these old guys? Did they have nothing better to do than to get into trouble by stealing secret technology and killing people?

  “Alex Jackson,” he said with a nod. “We finally meet.”

  This one had an accent that sounded British. “What do you want?”

  “My time is very limited, Alex, so I’ll get straight to the point. The device, where is it?”

  The reality that this man could hurt her mother—and probably would—made Alex’s stomach churn and her heart skip a beat. She’d told herself repeatedly that she could be strong enough. Don’t fall down now. She had to do this right. Marg’s life depended on what Alex did next.

  Her options were clear. If she told him the truth and Wyatt was lying injured in her house, these guys would kill him. If she lied, she might be able to buy some time. And just maybe help would arrive before these jerks returned.

  Decision made, she looked him straight in the eye and lied. “It’s at my office. Inside a glove in my middle desk drawer.”

  “You’re sure about that? I would genuinely regret having to return empty handed. I would have no choice but to hurt your lovely mother.”

  A quake of uncertainty shuddered through her but Alex held her ground. “I’m sure.”

  “So we shall see.”

  The three men left and the lights went out once more. Marg laid her head on Alex’s shoulder and sobbed softly.

  Alex focused on trying to work her hands free from the ropes. Wyatt would be here. She refused to believe otherwise.

  Seemingly endless minutes later when the ropes started to loosen, Alex’s wrists were raw. She was almost free. One more hard jerk. Pain sliced through her wrists and shot up her arms. The ropes fell away. She was free. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she sent the British guy and his friends on that wild goose chase. There was no way to know when they would return.

  Adrenaline shoring up her determination, she worked on the ropes binding her ankles. Marg kept quiet. Neither of them dared to speak in case someone was monitoring the room. The ropes around her ankles came loose and Alex stretched her legs. God, it felt so good.

  She leaned closer to Marg and whispered, “I’m loose. I’m going to untie you now.”

  Marg turned her back, giving Alex easy access. Her fingers ached as she freed her mother’s hands. When she reached down to work on the rope around her ankles, Marg set her hands away. She patted Alex’s arm in a silent signal that she could do this.

  Alex closed her eyes and tried to remember what she’d seen in the room during the brief time the lights were on. Gray walls. Concrete maybe, like the floor. A couple of cots, a table and chair, possibly two. What was this place? A prison or a bunkhouse? Didn’t matter. All she and Marg needed was a way out.

  Moving on hands and knees, she worked her way around the room, hoping to find anything they could use for a weapon. She felt the cold metal leg of the table, and then the smaller wooden leg of a chair. Relief flowed through her veins. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She stood and lifted the chair, gauging its weight. This could work.

  A touch on her shoulder made Alex gasp. Marg squeezed her arm reassuringly. Alex took her mother’s hand and placed it on the chair.

  Marg leaned close and
whispered, “I think there are two. I’ll get the other one.”

  Despite the terrifying circumstances, Alex smiled. Maybe her mother was stronger than she’d realized.

  The grind of metal jerked her attention to the door.

  They were coming back.

  Quickly taking a position to one side of the door, Alex raised the chair above her head. Next to her, Marg did the same. Alex held her breath.

  The door swung inward and those bright lights came on.

  Alex prepared to slam the chair into the first person she saw as her eyes adjusted…

  One of the guards from before came into focus. She swung the chair at his face. The impact of wood against flesh and bone shook her.

  Swearing, he staggered back.

  Alex grabbed for his weapon.

  The guard snatched the gun from her reach and charged forward.

  Marg swung her chair, barely missing Alex and whopping him square in the chest.

  This time he went down. Alex didn’t bother trying to fish his gun from under his crumpled body. She grabbed her mother’s hand and rushed out the door.

  The big, black muzzle of a weapon stopped her.

  The Brit.

  Damn it.

  She wilted with defeat.

  “My men just informed me that the device is not in your office,” he stated with enough hostility to scorch the air.

  “Now I remember,” she said, working hard to keep the fear from her voice, “I stuck it in my purse.”

  “Where is it?” he repeated, disdain and fury dripping from the words.

  “At my house.” She squared her shoulders and held Marg’s hand a little tighter. “I’ll show you.”

  “This is your last opportunity to do this right, Alex.” He grabbed Marg by the hair and pulled her close. She whimpered. “Lie to me again and this time your mother will die right in front of you.”

  Fear twisted inside her, but Alex refused to allow the tears brimming to escape. “You can have the damned thing. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “Good.” He shoved Marg at Alex. “Let’s go.”

  The guard, looking thoroughly pissed, moved up next to Alex to lead the way.

  The other guard and no telling how many others would likely rendezvous at her house. She and Marg were running out of time and options.

  Wyatt, where are you?

  When the long, door-lined corridor finally ended, a set of steep stairs led them up to yet another steel door. The guard opened it and sunlight spilled in. Some amount of relief washed over Alex. At least they were getting out of this place.

  Outside, she surveyed the area. Deserted. A few trees and scraggly grasses. There was graffiti on the exterior concrete walls. No highway in sight, just a dirt road. What was this place? Some sort of abandoned testing facility or military site? The silence was eerie.

  A big black SUV waited a few yards away. The guard double-timed it to the vehicle and opened the rear passenger door before moving toward the driver’s door.

  The Brit nudged Alex in the back with his gun. “Your mother gets in first, and then you.”

  Alex moved forward. Marg stayed closed to her side. Please, please let help get here in time.

  A gunshot cracked the silence, and then another.

  Alex stalled.

  On the other side of the SUV the guard fell to the ground, his agonizing screams making her heart slam against her sternum. Were the good guys here or had more bad guys found them?

  “Drop the weapon, Braddock.”

  Wyatt.

  Alex’s racing heart took a little leap. Wyatt and at least a dozen other men suddenly appeared from the trees. The realization that there was blood on his shirt momentarily overrode her relief. He had been injured. He looked okay though and he was moving toward her with that big gun of his aimed at the bad guy. She wanted to cheer.

  The Brit he’d called Braddock abruptly jerked Alex away from her mother and against him. His left arm went tight around her neck and the muzzle of his weapon bored into her skull.

  “Stop right where you are,” Braddock warned, “or I’ll ruin the lady’s day.”

  Alex trembled. It made her mad as hell but she couldn’t stop the shaking. She wanted to tell the bastard that he’d already ruined her day, damn it.

  Wyatt stopped. “You have two options, Braddock. Live or die. It’s your choice.”

  “If I die, she dies with me.” Braddock’s weapon drilled a little deeper into her scalp.

  Alex had been in tight spots a time or two in her life. Typically the unfortunate moment involved a man—like now. She had learned long ago that when a man refused to listen to reason there was only one thing a woman could do.

  She reached down, grabbed him by the crotch, and squeezed for all she was worth.

  Braddock howled in pain. At the same instant, Marg screamed like a banshee and hurled herself against him.

  A weapon discharged… the hiss of a bullet buzzed so close to Alex she felt its heat.

  Braddock jerked back. The weapon in his right hand hit the ground. Blood leaked from his right shoulder.

  Alex tore away from him. She scrambled to where Marg struggled to get to her feet.

  Suddenly people were everywhere. A man carrying what looked like a paramedic bag knelt next to Marg.

  Wyatt grabbed Alex, pulled her up, and held her at arm’s length. He surveyed her from head to toe and back. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head, her gaze rushing over him to make sure he was okay. The blood on his shirt had her heart leaping again.

  “It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Let’s get you and Marg out of here.”

  The next few minutes were a blur of activity. Braddock refused to talk, but his guard was spilling his guts. The rest of Braddock’s team was taken into custody at Alex’s office.

  Wyatt explained that Alex and her mother needed to be debriefed.

  And then he was gone.

  It was over.

  The good guys had won. Yet, somehow, Alex was certain she had lost.

  Chapter 21

  Sunday, July 27, 8:30 p.m.

  More than twenty-four hours had passed since the debriefing. Patton had called. He’d explained that a man named Sean Johnson had been arrested for Hitch’s murder as well as for the murder of the guy who’d died in the house explosion. Timothy O’Neill had been cleared of any wrongdoing and released from jail. Patton couldn’t give her any other details since the case was classified. Alex didn’t mention that she already knew those details.

  Late yesterday she had turned over the device to an agent sent to her house by Wyatt. It was done. Over. Case closed.

  That was good, right?

  Funny thing was, it didn’t feel good. Every part of her felt… sad.

  She and Marg were unharmed beyond a few scrapes and bruises. Marg had stayed the night. Alex wasn’t sure which of them had needed the other the most. Many hours of soul-searching conversation and lots of tears had been shared.

  When dawn broke with Alex still awake, she’d realized one thing with a keenly painful certainty—she wouldn’t be seeing Wyatt Murphy again.

  She and her mother had been instructed never to speak of the events that had occurred. Anything they had learned about the device was a threat to national security and to disclose that information would make them terrorists. They should forget everything they had seen and heard over the last week.

  Alex had no problem with any of the instructions except the forgetting part. If she spent the rest of her life trying, she would never be able to forget Wyatt Murphy.

  How had he forgotten her so easily?

  Shannon had appeared at Alex’s door a couple of hours ago with a movie and bags filled with junk food, beer, and wine. Alex had a sneaking suspicion that Marg had called her. No matter that Alex wanted to pretend everything was fine, she was glad to have Marg and Shannon with her tonight.

  The truth was, nothing was fine.

  Alex drained her second bottle of Co
rona and set it aside. She would be okay… eventually. It wasn’t as if she needed a man in her life every minute of every day to feel complete. She had her home, her business, and her friends. She waited for the resounding echo of damn straight but it didn’t come. The only thing that popped into her head was the image of Wyatt.

  Just as Hitch’s death had, Wyatt’s presence had tampered with her balance.

  Maybe it was time she tried the relationship route again. See where it went. Maybe she was missing something. All she had to do was find the right man.

  One man in particular strong-armed his way back into her thoughts. Not smart, Alex. The guy is long gone.

  The doorbell chimed and she jumped up. “I’ll get it.” Any excuse to take her mind off the ache that refused to go away.

  Marg and Shannon didn’t even appear to notice she’d moved. They were too engrossed in watching Magic Mike.

  Alex shook her head and wandered over to the front door. Maybe the Professor, Hernandez, and Bobby had decided to join the party.

  She opened the door and all other thoughts, including the one that would have told her to say hello, vanished.

  Wyatt Murphy stood on her porch.

  “Hey, Alex.” When she simply stood there, mute, he added, “May I come in?”

  Cheering from the girls at something on the movie nudged Alex out of the trance she’d drifted into. “No. I…” She stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind her. “I have company.”

  A flicker of something in those blue eyes made her chest constrict. Damn this man and his power over her. Five seconds in his presence and already she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “I stopped by to thank you,” he said. “You performed a great service for your country.”

  She heard what he said, but for the most part she was busy admiring the pale blue shirt that matched his eyes and the sexy jeans. Where was the suit? Suit or no, he was as heart-stoppingly handsome as ever.

  She started to assure him that another thank you wasn’t necessary, but a burst of anger stopped her. She took a breath and then said what was really on her mind. “What did you really come here for, Agent Murphy?”