Every Secret Thing

by Rebecca Hartt

  When Charlotte didn’t say a word, Saul took closer stock of her.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  Charlotte stuck to the facts as she opened the lid of the coffee maker and pulled out the filter basket. “Someone broke into Monica’s house last night and tried to do her in. Lucas is talking to her now.”

  Scowling thoughtfully, Saul flipped the bacon. “You think she’s telling the truth?”

  Saul’s dubious tone wrested Charlotte’s attention. It hadn’t even occurred to her Monica was lying.

  “Don’t you? The defense found out yesterday that Monica’s testifying,” she reminded him. “Dwyer obviously doesn’t want that happening.”

  Saul grunted noncommittally.

  “What have you got against Monica, anyway?” she asked him, opening the fresh bag of coffee and breathing in the crisp, tantalizing scent.

  “She’s an opportunist,” Saul stated, sliding the griddle off the burner. “Every guy in the squadron could see it but Lucas. In my opinion, the only reason she’s agreed to testify against Dwyer is because he transferred her to a different office, and she hates her new job.”

  “Really?” Charlotte poured coffee grounds into the filter.

  “Why did you think she agreed to testify?” Saul asked.

  “To prove to Lucas that her career isn’t more important than he is.”

  Saul grunted again, and Charlotte turned to fill the coffeepot with water.

  The sound of stairs creaking alerted them both to Lucas’s approach. Charlotte snatched up the loaf of bread, preparing to make toast, and Saul turned his attention to the stove again—both of them acting like guilty children.

  “Something smells good in here,” Lucas commented as he loomed at the doorway

  Charlotte darted a look at him. He had managed to dress in jeans and a T-shirt without anyone helping him. With his hair sticking up and his jaw darkly stubbled, he almost passed for a normal human being. She was glad to see his coloring back to normal.

  Saul didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Don’t tell me we’re protecting Monica now, too,” he said, then dumped the bowl of whisked eggs into a heated pan.

  Lucas sent Charlotte an uncomfortable glance. “Just so you know, this wasn’t my idea. I called Jaguar’s counsel after talking to Monica, and she recommended we pick her up on our way back to The Beach. Carew considers her testimony critical to Jaguar’s defense. Monica has to be there.”

  And someone has to protect her until the trial on Thursday. Charlotte dropped bread in the toaster, thinking hard.

  “We’re already protecting Charlotte,” Saul pointed out with disapproval in his voice.

  “I don’t need your protection anymore,” she countered, just realizing that fact. “I’ve got the Gallstones to protect me. Monica doesn’t have anybody. Go get her. I’ll go home with my godfather’s bodyguards.”

  When silence was her only reply, Charlotte turned around to see Lucas standing at the doorway looking torn. Saul, scrambling the eggs with vicious strokes, said nothing more.

  “We can protect both of you,” Lucas argued, but the look on his face told Charlotte the mere idea made him uncomfortable.

  “Listen.” She strove to put him out of his misery. This was the right thing to do. “I’m not actually a threat to Dwyer anymore—or, by extension, The Entity. I can’t remember enough of Lloyd’s files to be a threat. There’s no point to my wearing a disguise anymore, either, because Dwyer already identified me. Therefore, I don’t need protection.”

  She held up a finger as Lucas went to cut her off. “If the bad guys still come after me, I’ve got the Gallstones to defend me. I’ll be fine,” she added, turning back to the toast so she wouldn’t cave in and offer him a reassuring hug.

  Lucas sought Saul’s opinion. “What do you think, Chief?”

  With the eggs done, Saul turned off the stove with a decisive snap. His gaze went from Lucas to Charlotte and back to Lucas. “I think two women to protect is too much,” he said shortly. “Especially with you being injured.”

  Charlotte, who knew what Saul was really saying, thanked him with a quick glance for being ambiguous. Lucas heard what he wanted to hear—that Charlotte could defend herself while Monica now needed their protection. She hoped he wasn’t gullible enough to fall for her antics anymore.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Saul added, turning his attention to plating the food.

  As they sat down to eat a moment later in the nook at one end of the kitchen, Charlotte found it difficult to eat. The food, while perfectly cooked, seemed tasteless, as the prospect of parting ways with Lucas hit her harder than she had thought it would.

  Glancing at Lucas and experiencing an immediate tug of attraction, she acknowledged to herself she was a tiny bit concerned he would fall for Monica again. Despite how strongly he’d condemned Monica’s actions, Charlotte did not underestimate her ability to charm him again. After all, she had managed to pull the wool over Charlotte’s eyes during their one brief encounter.

  That’s not going to happen, she comforted herself. Lucas knew he deserved better than a woman who used him. What he deserved was someone… She caught herself thinking more like me, then remembered her own job and the three kids he wanted.

  The sad truth was, she wasn’t any better for Lucas than Monica was. Bowing out of the picture now was the best thing she could do for him.

  It was late by the time Lucas shut and locked his bedroom door in his condo in Virginia Beach. He stood a moment in the dark, listening for indications Monica was done with her shower and was settling onto the futon in his guest bedroom. He had shooed Saul home in time to pick up Duke from the dog sitter’s. Given the state-of-the-art alarm system in Lucas’s condo, Saul’s presence seemed redundant. What’s more, Saul was barely civil to Monica, which made being around both of them even more stressful than being around only her.

  How Lucas had gone from protecting Charlotte to protecting his ex-fiancée still puzzled him.

  Hearing the water turn off in Monica’s en suite, Lucas crossed toward his dresser where he unbuckled his belt, sliding off the paddle holster and laying it, with the gun still inside, on his dresser. With some difficulty moving his right arm, he shucked his jeans and socks, dropping them into his laundry hamper. Wearing only his T-shirt and boxers, he picked up the holster and carried it to his bedside table. Then he pulled back the tightly tucked sheet and climbed into bed before turning off the lamp.

  After so many nights away from home, it felt strange to be lying in his own bed. He kept his eyes open, refamiliarizing himself with the dimensions of his dark room. Moonlight filtered through his blinds illuminating the walls, the glinting rectangles of his framed Ansel Adams’ photos, and his coffered ceiling with the high-end paddle fan twirling lazily overhead.

  Had it always been so quiet in his house?

  After sleeping in older homes for the past few nights, he couldn’t help but notice how his newly constructed condo didn’t creak or groan. It was, in fact, a little too quiet, like something was missing. His gaze fell to the empty half of his king-sized bed and, all at once, he realized what that was—Charlotte wasn’t with him.

  His heart clutched with sudden longing.

  I miss you, baby.

  They had gone their separate ways around noon—Saul and Lucas in the Camaro and Charlotte in the Gallstone’s Winnebago. Watching the Winnebago until it turned a corner and disappeared, Lucas had wrestled with the feeling that he had made a grave mistake. Fitz had ordered him and Saul to keep an eye on Charlotte until he told them she was safe. That hadn’t happened yet.

  What’s more, that might never happen if Fitz was, in fact, protecting the vigilante group rather than arresting its members. Lucas hadn’t heard from him since their encounter at the hospital.

  Not once in his military career had Lucas ignored a direct order. Yet, somehow, Charlotte had talked him into it, with reasons that had struck him as sound at the time. Apart from seeking petty vengea
nce, The Entity had no more reason to want to grab her. Her memories of Lloyd’s files had faded. They’d already discovered the warehouse in Sabena. What’s more, she’d revealed that, in her phone call with her brother made in the Bahamas, he had claimed he hadn’t eaten or slept when he’d thought her dead. The young man probably needed her. She had to get back to Calvin.

  It hadn’t occurred to Lucas until the Winnebago disappeared with Charlotte inside it that she had actually shrugged off his protection because Monica was back in the picture.

  But it’s only temporary, he wanted to tell Charlotte as he lay alone in bed. Even though Monica had greeted him with gratitude and relief and had clung to him like a burr, Lucas felt no satisfaction in having her underfoot. Unlike Charlotte, she wasn’t clever or droll. What he had once admired about Monica—a mysterious beauty that kept him guessing—now struck him as duplicitous.

  Not trusting her, he had kept her at arm’s length all day and would continue to do so. He had promised her his protection in exchange for her testimony. And nothing more.

  Even so, when he’d put Monica in his guest bedroom that evening, he’d seen the hurt and disappointment on her face, and he honestly hadn’t cared. Had she really thought he would let her back into his life after what she’d done?

  What’s more, she wasn’t the one Lucas wanted lying next to him. Charlotte was.

  Closing his eyes, Lucas envisioned her snuggled close, and his entire being yearned for her.

  I’ll call her, he thought, only to realize, though he had the number of the phone Fitz had given her, she never kept it on. Leaving a message she might never hear would be pathetic. And what would he say, anyway? Hey, I miss you.

  What was point to making that confession? He’d already asked if he could talk her out of going into the CIA, and she’d turned him down, albeit gently. He couldn’t fault her for wanting to proceed with her plans. Everyone had the right to pursue his or her destiny.

  The sound of a door opening down the hall pricked Lucas’s ears. Monica was stirring. Listening over the thud of his own heart, he tried to determine what she was up to. In the next instant, he heard his doorknob jiggle. Ah, so she was hoping to join him in his bed. Too bad for her. He’d locked his bedroom door and wasn’t about to unlock it.

  Her sigh of frustration was audible, bringing a cynical smile to his lips.

  Ironic, wasn’t it? The woman whom he’d thought he loved had shown her true colors, making him realize he didn’t love her, after all. While the woman who’d shown her true colors from the start had won him over without ever intending to.

  Hearing Monica retreat in defeat, Lucas took a cleansing breath and cleared his mind. He would pray for forgiveness for shirking his duty first, then for protection for all of them. Lastly and most fervently, he would pray for the possibility that, one day, Charlotte Patterson would somehow turn into the uncomplicated woman he was looking for and put him before her career plans.

  All things are possible with God, Lucas reminded himself. So maybe, one day, Charlotte Patterson would come back to him.

  Thankful she’d subscribed to an actual newspaper while working on her master’s thesis, Charlotte organized the pile of newspapers littering her kitchen table. Without them, she would have had no way of catching up on the news she’d missed these past few weeks. Digital news didn’t come with that option. And, thankfully, it hadn’t occurred to Calvin to toss the papers out.

  Apparently, it also hadn’t occurred to her brother to clean up after himself in any way at all.

  Sorting the papers by their dates, she put them in a neat pile from oldest to newest and started skimming quickly through them, while sipping a cup of coffee that slowly went to room temperature.

  At one point, she tore her attention from the news she was reading to watch her brother empty his cereal bowl in the sink. He rinsed it and was about to walk away when she told him, rather tersely, “Put it in the dishwasher.”

  If she hadn’t come home to a pigsty, she might have used a kinder voice. For a young man who purportedly hadn’t eaten the whole time she was gone, he’d sure gone through a lot of dishes, and they’d all been piled in the sink waiting for her.

  “And don’t forget to brush your teeth,” she added as Calvin dutifully put his bowl where it belonged.

  “I’m not five,” he muttered. Nonetheless, he went obediently into the bathroom, and seconds later she could hear his electric toothbrush humming.

  It’s good to be home, Charlotte thought. After weeks of uncertainty and living out of a suitcase wearing clothes she hoped never to wear again, she was back in her own apartment doing her own thing—except she no longer worked for NCIS. She had called to verify that was, indeed, the reason her badge was invalid. Sure enough, she’d been let go for not showing up at the office.

  The real reason, Charlotte decided, was someone at NCIS considered her a threat to Dwyer.

  She had considered fighting for her position and taking advantage of her godfather’s influence to get her job back. Instead, she had decided to let it go. Her internship hadn’t paid much anyway, and, thanks to her parents’ life insurance policies, money wasn’t an issue. Provided Calvin managed to land a job right out of college, she was going into the CIA the same month he graduated—though grades had apparently suffered when he’d thought her dead.

  Moreover, she had plenty to do before committing herself to her new career, like hunting down Lloyd’s wrecked Taurus in the hopes of finding a tracking device on it. If she found it, she could pair it with the disabled tracking device Saul had given her and pair it with her video of the high-speed chase to bring a suit against the Sabena police department.

  Later that week, she would attend Jaguar’s court-martial. Her spirits lifted abruptly at the prospect of seeing Lucas there. Shaking her head at her impractical feelings, she went back to poring through the newspapers.

  So much had happened in the world in the past few weeks! Some of it she had overheard when Saul watched the news on his cell phone at her parents’ house. The United States had shot down another hostile Iranian drone. The president’s immigration policy was under attack. Talks with North Korea had failed abysmally.

  Reading the international news left a body thinking the end of the world was imminent. No wonder The Entity wanted to be prepared. However, a handful of powerful men weren’t going to keep America safe, regardless of how many weapons they stockpiled.

  Skimming the headlines of the local news, she read that a former state delegate had been charged with defrauding the federal government. Students at an area high school had all walked out in protest over the firing of a teacher. And a former Navy SEAL and FBI special agent had both died in a shoot-out.

  What? Charlotte read the article quickly, gasping out loud as she encountered two familiar names—Jason Dunn and Casey Fitzpatrick.

  Flattening the paper as it started to curl, she read it one more time, more intently.

  Jason Dunn, a former Navy SEAL, was declared dead on the scene after breaking into the penthouse apartment in Norfolk belonging to FBI Special Agent Casey Fitzpatrick. Investigators have confirmed that Dunn shot and mortally wounded Fitzpatrick while the latter survived long enough to return fire, killing his assassin. The FBI refuses to comment whether the break-in was related to any completed or ongoing investigation.

  “Bye, Charlotte.”

  Unaware of her absorption, her brother loped past her with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

  Charlotte tore her stunned gaze off the paper. “Be careful,” she called, but it wasn’t really him she was worried about. It was the rest of them.

  Fitz wouldn’t have been targeted by The Entity if he’d been protecting them. In other words, she’d been totally wrong about him.

  And now he was dead. Mortally wounded, the paper had said.

  “Dear Lord,” she said, aware that her words were a plea for protection.

  She had to tell Saul and Lucas what had happened, though perhaps they alr
eady knew. Was it possible The Entity intended to snuff out anyone and everyone who knew enough to oppose them? Surely not. Fitz had held all the evidence. She, Saul, and Lucas could only claim that Dwyer had stolen and stored weapons in Sabena. Once those weapons were moved elsewhere, The Entity had nothing to fear from them.

  All the same, it would pay to be vigilant.

  Getting up to fetch her purse, Charlotte took out the phone Fitz had given her and turned it on. It was still holding a charge. Suffering remorse for having misjudged the special agent, she dialed the Gallstones while carrying her cell to her third-story window. She could see their Winnebago parked in the lot immediately below her.

  “Hey,” she said when Stone picked up on the second ring. “I need Lucas Strong’s phone number, and I remember he gave it to you.”

  Stone, ever efficient and professional, recited the number to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, and promptly hung up on him.

  Her heart beat with anticipation as she keyed in Lucas’s number, memorizing it in case the phone Fitz gave her suddenly stopped working.

  “Hi.”

  Simply the sound of his voice flooded Charlotte with emotion. For a second, she couldn’t speak.

  “What’s up?” he prompted. His casual tone let her know someone else was listening to their conversation—Monica, of course.

  “I just read something from last Thursday’s paper. You may already know. Fitz is dead.”

  “What?”

  His alarm made her own scalp tighten. “Jason Dunn broke into his apartment. They had a shoot-out, and both of them are dead.”

  “No way.”

  Charlotte whirled from the window and paced to the kitchen and back. “I was wrong about him, Lucas. He wouldn’t have been targeted if he was helping The Entity. He really was going after them, but now he’s dead, which means they’re winning.”

  “Like heck they’re winning,” Lucas growled. “We can’t let that happen.”

  “I don’t see what we can do,” Charlotte lamented. “All our evidence is gone. My memory is a blur. We’d have to start all over again.”