Annabelle walked along the sidewalk in between the Arts and Humanities building and the cafeteria. She was busy counting the cracks in the sidewalk and avoiding the stares of people who knew she was the girl that found Lacie, so she didn’t notice the black sedan with tinted windows following her at a crawling pace on the street to her left.
Her head jerked up at the sound of a car door opening and the voice of Brad Richmond, the CIA agent who had recruited her. She hadn’t spoken to him since the day she signed on with them. He left messages on her cell phone every couple of days with a time and place to go for training, which was the extent of their communication.
Seeing him now, standing beside the open car door, the man who may have had a hand in ending the life of her one and only friend made her blood boil.
“Get in the car , Miss Parker.”
She stood there staring at him with her hands clenched at her sides. She didn’t want to make a scene. It was early afternoon and hundreds of students were out on campus, but it took everything in her not to scream at the man standing with the car door open and a casual look on his face like it was just another day.
Several minutes passed where neither one said a word. Agent Richmond finally gave in when he realized Annabelle wasn’t budging and people were starting to notice the unmarked car with windows so dark you couldn’t see inside.
“Please, Agent Parker.”
The use of her title, even though she hadn’t earned it yet, made Annabelle bristle. It was like he was trying to tell her she had importance, that she had control over what would happen if she stepped into that car or that she mattered and her being an agent would guarantee she would be okay.
He was subtly reminding her that she belonged to them.
Annabelle walked over to the curb and got inside the car without another glance in his direction. Agent Richmond got in after her, and as soon as he closed the door, the car took off and he closed the divider between the driver and them. Annabelle stared out of the side window, refusing to face the man next to her.
“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss, Annabelle.”
She clenched her teeth together to keep the screams from spilling out. She opened her mouth loud enough to whisper the one question she had.
“Why?”
She heard Agent Richmond shift in his seat beside her, obviously frustrated that she refused to meet his gaze.
“We thought it was best to clean up the mess. To avoid anything tainting your career or getting back to those who only recently released your father from his debts. You have no idea what people like that would do with this kind of information.”
Annabelle closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart. She’d only had a few weeks of training, but she’d learned on the first day how to cut off a man’s air supply by hitting a certain spot on his windpipe with the heel of her hand.
Lacie’s death had officially been ruled a suicide. Her family, even though they had been nonexistent in her life, now believed their daughter had taken her own life. They were wallowing in grief and shame all because of these people.
“If the Capuano family found out that someone wanted to prove a point to you by killing one of your friends, they wouldn’t hesitate to partner up with them and make your life a living hell,” Agent Richmond told her. “That’s something you need to always remember, Annabelle. For right now, it’s safer for all involved that everyone thinks she died from suicide.”
Annabelle’s head whipped around at his words, which sounded strangely threatening. Was he telling her that the CIA would work with the Capuano’s? That they’d keep the secret of Lacie’s death from the mob, but at any moment that could change and she could be targeted by them? He was telling her that she should always remember the control the CIA had over her.
“We know this is a bit shocking for you right now, and we are using all of our resources to make sure that from now on we know absolutely everything. The cover-up used in her death is so airtight, it’s almost unbelievable,” Agent Richmond had said with a shake of his head and a raise of his eyebrows, like he almost couldn’t believe how good his precious CIA was.
“I didn’t say one more word to him after that. I just got out of the car and went back to my dorm. I was so fueled by rage, I just shut down. Until I met you and Milo,” Parker told Garrett, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth and softening the look in her eyes.
Garrett processed every single word Parker had told him about Agent Richmond with the perspective of an outsider. He could take what Agent Richmond said several different ways. He knew Parker had been in no position to think objectively about it.
“You know, he never came right out and said the CIA were the ones responsible for her death,” Garrett said.
“I know. Every single time I’ve gone over that conversation in my head I always remember that. He was careful not to implicate anyone in her murder. I thought he was doing it just to be a dick. Now I’m wondering if he just assumed that we were on the same page. That he didn’t need to spell it out because I already knew I had other enemies. At the time, the only enemy I had was the CIA―the people who knew everything about me and coerced me into joining them by holding my father’s life over my head. It never occurred to me that there could have been someone else out there,” Parker explained.
“When he said they cleaned up the mess, maybe he really meant just that. They were protecting you by making her death a suicide. Now that we know more of the facts, it is completely possible someone else killed Lacie.”
“It couldn’t have been Milo, could it?” Parker asked.
Garrett didn’t answer her. When he found out Milo had flown back to Maryland from the Dominican the day Lacie was killed, he knew it was more than just a coincidence. As much as he hated to think about it, he wondered if Parker had been on Milo’s radar before they’d even met that day in the coffee shop. Garrett was scared to death to think about what that implicated. Maybe the Capuano’s used him to spy on Parker as a way to threaten her father. Maybe there never was a Capuano threat and it had been Fernandez the entire time. Or maybe Fernandez was working with the mob, completely under the CIA’s radar. Garrett’s mind conjured up all sorts of scenarios, each one more extravagant than the last, and all that did was add more questions to their ever-growing list.
Garrett and Parker drove the rest of the way back to the resort in silence, lost in their own thoughts. They walked hand-in-hand through the lobby, and as they passed the front desk, the receptionist called out to them. They paused as the man hurried around the counter towards them with a slip of paper in his hand.
“There was a message left for you early this morning,” the man said as he handed Garrett and envelope with his name on it and then hurried back to the desk to answer an incoming call.
They continued walking as Garrett tore into the envelope and pulled out a note written in neat, block letters.
“Urgent. Need to speak with you. Will come to your villa at ten this evening,” Garrett read to Parker out loud.
“It’s not signed?” Parker asked as she reached for the note and looked it over.
“Nope,” Garrett replied as he pulled out the key card for their villa and swiped it through the slot.
Parker studied the note while she waited for Garrett to get the door open. Something about the handwriting was familiar to her. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest when she saw the date in the top right-hand corner The way it was written―day, then month, then year―such a little thing, but something she’d seen enough times over the years.
Garrett held the door open for Parker as she walked through, stopping in her tracks and forcing Garrett to bump into the back of her.
“Holy shit,” Parker muttered.
“What? Do you recognize the handwriting or something?” Garrett asked as he dropped their bags at the foot of the bed.
“Kind of, but there’s something else. The flag that was on that fax cover sheet I saw on the boat? This
is it,” Parker said, holding the note up so Garrett could see and pointing to the flag in the top right-hand corner. “And I remember where I saw it before. The day Milo left to come here, I was in his office doing some cleaning and there was a fax on the machine. I picked it up and turned to take it out to him in the living room, but he was already there in the doorway. He saw the fax in my hands and blew his top. He started yelling at me to stay out of his things, snatched the fax out of my hand, and shoved me up against the bookshelf,” Parker explained.
“He pushed you? Are you fucking kidding me?” Garrett yelled.
“I told you, it was really bad at the end,” Parker said sheepishly. “But that’s not the point. That fax? I glanced down at it when I picked it up. It had the same flag at the top of the first page.”
Garrett folded his arms in front of him so he wouldn’t feel the need to punch the wall at the thought of Milo being physically abusive with Parker. Arguing with her, keeping secrets from her, and closing her off was one thing. But pushing her around threw Garrett into a whole new level of pissed off towards his former best friend.
“So the fax on his boat, the fax at your house, and this note all came from the same place. Or the same person,” Garrett surmised.
“And whoever this person is wants to talk to us,” Parker finished.
They had a few hours to spare before ten o’clock, so they met up with the rest of the team to go over all of the facts they knew and to make a list of possible suspects that would knock on their door that evening.
Brady wanted the rest of the team to be assembled in and around the room just in case something went wrong, but Garrett and Parker both agreed that would be a bad idea. Whoever it was didn’t want anyone to know who they were for a reason, and they didn’t want this person to get spooked. They had a feeling that this person was going to provide them with all of the information they were missing so they could figure out this mystery once and for all.
Brady, Austin, and Cole reluctantly agreed to stay away from Garrett and Parker’s villa, but they refused to just sit back and do nothing. They would keep their distance while still maintaining a visual on the villa just in case they were needed. They placed bugs in the room and one on both Garrett and Parker.
Garrett tried to get Parker to take a nap when they were done with the meeting, but she was too keyed up. Everything they’d been working for was coming to a head, and they'd finally get all of the answers about what Milo had been up to and how much of a stake Fernandez had in all of it. With this one meeting, they might also get the closure they needed so they could go back home with clear heads and open hearts.
Garrett sat at the end of the bed, his foot tapping nervously on the floor while he watched Parker pace back and forth in front of the door. At nine-thirty, three sharp raps against the wood made them both jump.
Garrett picked up his gun sitting on the bed next to him and stood up. He double checked the chamber, making sure a round was in place, and gave Parker a look silently asking her if she was ready.
She picked her own gun up from the nightstand and switched it back and forth between her sweaty hands as she alternated wiping each palm on the thighs of her jeans.
Parker gave a sharp nod to Garrett and moved to one side of the door while he went to the other and put his hand on the doorknob. They stared into each other’s eyes from either side of the doorway. Parker quickly leaned in and kissed Garrett’s lips, pulling away too soon and getting back into position.
“I love you,” Parker whispered with a smile.
“Love you too,” Garrett whispered back right before he turned the knob and opened the door.
Parker broke Garrett’s eye contact to turn and face their mystery guest, aiming her gun straight out in front of her.
The adrenaline coursing through her system while they waited for this moment and the feeling of content she felt from hearing Garrett tell her he loved her came to a screeching halt, and she immediately dropped her arms to her sides and stood frozen in place, staring though the open doorway.
In an old football team t-shirt, faded jeans with tennis shoes, and his hair a little longer than she was used to seeing, he leaned against the door jam with his hands in his pockets and a guilty smile on his face, looking nothing like Parker had remembered. The heavy five o’clock shadow was a new addition. As long as she remembered, he’d always been clean shaven. It had been so long since she’d last seen him, but he looked older than he should and the heavy bags under his eyes proved he hadn’t been sleeping well for quite a while. That thought almost made her smile in satisfaction considering all of the sleepless nights he forced on her.
But there was nothing about this moment that would make her smile. Standing in front of her was a ghost that had haunted her and made her second-guess everything. One that made her regret so many decisions and had turned her into someone she didn’t even recognize, forcing her to claw her way out of a life that would have destroyed her.
All this time, without a word, or a phone call…
The anger and hatred had been simmering below the surface for so long that just the sight of him standing in the doorway made it all boil over. All the things he should have done to protect her, all of the times he should have been there for her, every moment he betrayed her love flashed before her eyes in an instant.
“Hey, sweetie.”
Garrett reacted to his presence and the casual way he said spoke the endearment before Parker could. He gave up all rights to her a long time ago. The fact that he stood there in the doorway, like it was the most natural thing in the world, pushed Garrett over the edge.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter Nineteen
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Garrett had raised his gun as soon as he opened the door, but unlike Parker, he refused to lower his weapon. There was no conceivable reason why Garrett should trust anyone that came to their door , least of all him.
“I know it must be a shock to see me now after all this time. Especially here,” he said as he took a step towards Parker.
She instinctively took a step backwards and his face fell. He knew she wouldn’t welcome him with open arms, but it still stung to see the distrust and fear on her face. He never wanted her to fear him.
He stopped with one foot in the doorway, not wanting her to retreat any further away from him. That was the closest he’d been to her in ages, and he just wanted to take all of her in. If it was possible, she’d grown even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. A wave of guilt washed through him when he thought about all of the time he'd lost with her.
“McCarthy, could you please put the gun down? I’m not armed,” he said as he put both of his palms in the air in an act of surrender and to prove he didn’t come here to hurt anyone.
Parker finally snapped out of her daze and reached up to lay a hand on Garrett’s arm.
“It’s okay. You can put it away,” she told Garrett softly.
Garrett stared at Parker, checking her face for any signs of panic or fear. All he saw was a healthy dose of shock which he was sure mirrored on his own face as well.
He slowly lowered his arm and slid his gun into the holster in the waistband of his jeans, safely secured against his lower back. He watched as Parker crossed her arms in front of her, and he could see the muscles in her forearms constrict as she squeezed them tightly, trying to physically hold herself together.
“What are you doing here, Joe?” Parker asked.
He winced at her use of his first name and had to stop himself from scolding her like a child. She wasn’t a child anymore. She was a beautiful, intelligent young woman who he shut out and pushed away. He had done everything he could since then to make up for it, did everything in his power to make sure she was safe. It didn’t make up for all of the hurt he caused her, though, that much he knew.
“I haven’t heard one word from you in over twelve years. And now suddenly you show up at my doorstep in the
middle of the Dominican Republic like it’s no big deal? You have no right to be here. No right to have anything to do with me,” she fumed.
Garrett had immediately recognized the man as Parker’s estranged father as soon as he’d opened the door. Not long after they’d met, Garrett had found a box of old photographs she’d shoved in the trunk of her car when he had gone in there to grab her spare tire.
He wanted more than anything to cross the threshold and punch Parker’s father in the face for the torment he put her through over the years. If he learned anything over the last few weeks it was to let Parker fight her own battles. She deserved this showdown with her father, even if it was at the most inopportune time.
“Look, sweetie–”
It was Parker’s turn to wince. That was twice in the span of a few minutes that he used the nickname from her childhood. She wasn’t that same, gullible child anymore, and he couldn’t just show up here out of the blue when she was in the middle of an assignment. His presence could mess up everything.
“Don’t!” Parker shouted. “You don’t get to use that name for me anymore. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing here and then get the hell out.”
Garrett almost felt sorry for the man. He’d been on the receiving end of Parker’s anger enough times to know how much her words could sting. His sympathy was short lived, however. He knew what her father did to her, and the scars he left by his actions almost hadn’t healed. He’d have to do a lot of groveling and ass kissing to even begin to fix things with Parker. And even then, Garrett wasn’t sure Parker would ever fully be able to forgive him or trust him.
“I’m not proud of the way I treated you or the way I behaved after your mother died. If I could go back and change everything, I would do it in a minute. I hope you at least believe that. I know that I’m the last person you want to see right now, but I told them I had to be the one to tell you,” Joe explained with years of regret etched into his face.
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