“I’m assuming your guide wasn’t Frederick Von.”
“No. His name was Buddy Song.”
He bumped her knee with his. “Let me have a look.”
Jabbing his finger at the next open email, he said, “This email, which is the next one in the sequence, doesn’t have any more information about the promised time and location. This one discusses car rental details.”
“We didn’t rent a car.” She tilted her head to the side and caught her long hair with one hand. “Buddy picked us up and drove us around. This email doesn’t even make sense.”
“None of them do.” He’d clicked open several more and bounced among the messages. “These are in order by date, but the subject matter isn’t sequential.”
“A code.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “The emails are significant in another way, a way only Frederick understands.”
“How’d you do in secret code class?”
“Secret code class?” She snorted softly. “No such thing.”
“Yeah, right. I know you agents learn stuff like that. Hell, we reviewed it ourselves. Were you an A student in deciphering like everything else?”
She sucked in her bottom lip, clamping it between her teeth. “Something like this? It could be anything—position of letters, single words, and the entire message might be run across all the emails with different rules for different messages.”
“But there are people at Langley who specialize in this, aren’t there?”
Spreading her arms, Rikki kicked her feet up on the coffee table next to the computer. “Do I look like I’m in with Langley? They think I’m dead, and good riddance. Do you think Langley would appreciate learning that Ariel from a black ops organization got into one of their dead agents’ emails? That ain’t gonna happen, McBride.”
He tapped one finger on the laptop. “That’s all right. I have my sources, and they’re not connected to the Agency.”
“Like Jeff? No, thanks.”
“I said my source is not with the Agency.” He put his feet up next to hers and tapped them with the ball of his foot. “Are you giving up? You went through a lot to get this flash drive. Ariel must’ve understood the significance of finding a set of David’s emails, and she went through a lot to get them to you.”
“Who said I was giving up?” She draped her leg over his and wiggled her toes against his ankle. “I’ll give it a try. I just don’t understand why David was sending coded messages to someone about our trip.”
“Maybe he had a different reason for taking that trip, one he didn’t reveal to you.”
Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back against the sofa, but she was anything but relaxed. Her hands curled into fists in her lap, and her eyelids flickered and twitched.
“What is it? He told you he had info about Vlad, right? Maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe he just said that to get Ariel’s support…and funds.”
“Yes, he said we were on Vlad’s trail, but that’s not what I’m thinking of. David was…different on this trip. I thought about it after he died, and figured I was reading too much into his behavior because it was the last assignment we’d do together, but he was definitely in a different place.”
“In what way? Do you think he was lying to you? Had he ever lied to you before?”
“Once.” She opened one eye. “And it wasn’t about work.”
“What then?”
“Love.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows. “He lied to you about love?”
“Yesss.” The word came out like a hiss.
Quinn waited. If Rikki wanted to tell him, she’d tell him. She’d found the perfect profession for her temperament. She kept secrets like nobody else he knew…had kept secrets from him.
Rikki sighed and sat up, drilling him with her gaze so that he clenched the muscles in his stomach and prepared himself.
“David was in love with me…or at least he thought he was.”
A muscle flickered at the corner of Quinn’s jaw. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be in love with Rikki? “I thought David Dawson was a married man.”
“He is…was. That was the problem, or at least one of them. I told him in no uncertain terms I didn’t fool around with married men, and of course I felt guilty that maybe I’d led him on.”
“You didn’t. You’re no tease.” Quinn ran a hand over his mouth. “How’d he take it?”
“Not well—at first. He gave me all the old excuses married guys trot out—Belinda didn’t understand him, the marriage was in name only, he thought she might be having an affair of her own, they were on the verge of divorce.” She squeezed the back of her neck. “Then I dropped the other shoe.”
“Which was?”
“Even if all those things were true, I wasn’t in love with him, and I apologized for suggesting otherwise.”
“How’d he take that?” Quinn didn’t even have to imagine David’s despair at the news, as he’d felt it himself when he woke up in that empty hotel room in Dubai with a white sheet of paper on the pillow next to him.
“Better than I expected. He didn’t rant or rave or protest or even try to convince me I felt differently. Although it pained me, I suggested we work apart for a while, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted he could cope and keep our relationship on a purely business level—and that’s when he lied to me.”
“He kept up his protestations of love?” He could almost feel sorry for the poor sap, but at least Quinn had taken it like a man and never had contact with Rikki again—until it came time to kill her.
“David never mentioned it to me again, but I knew he still had feelings for me.” She ran her hand down Quinn’s arm and threaded her fingers through his. “I could tell he did when you came onto the scene.”
“Me?”
“David knew about us in Dubai, of course. David and I knew each other so well, he could tell. He got all fatherly on me and played the role of the mentor, which of course he was. He warned me about what having a fling while on assignment could do to my career.” She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “As if I could’ve stopped that wildfire between us even if I’d wanted to—and I didn’t.”
“Until the end.” He disentangled his fingers from hers so that he could think straight. “Is that what happened? Is that why you left me high and dry? David’s sage advice?”
Now he felt no sympathy for the man, but had an itching desire to punch him in the face—except he was dead.
“No.” She brushed the hair from his forehead to torture him some more. “I realized our relationship belonged in the short and combustible category.”
“You realized that without discussing it with me, then. I could’ve combusted like that forever.”
A low chuckle vibrated in her throat, and he swallowed. The damnedest things about her could make him hard.
“Anyway, David’s cautionary words didn’t have any influence on my leaving you and Dubai.”
“Maybe his cautionary words didn’t, but his actions did.” Quinn sat up on the edge of the sofa, making a half turn toward Rikki. “If you don’t think he pulled you out of Dubai to go on this wild-goose chase in South Korea to separate us, you’re naive—and I’ve never considered you naive before.”
“I suppose there was that element to it, but David was hot for this mission and wanted me along.” She shrugged.
Quinn snorted. “David was hot for you. He never did leave his wife, did he? That horrible, half-baked, failing marriage.”
“No.”
“So, that was the one time David lied to you. Said he’d accepted you two would never be more than colleagues but all the while harboring that fire down below.”
She held up her finger. “Careful, you’re talking about a dead man and a damned good agent who died for his country.”
“You’re right.”
He grabbed her finger and kissed the tip. “If he lied about that, how do you know he wasn’t lying to you about other things, like this trip to South Korea?”
“Because he wasn’t a very good liar, was he? He couldn’t hide his feelings for me.”
“A CIA agent who’s not a good liar? He should’ve found another career.”
Rikki cocked her head. “I mean, he was a good liar. If you could’ve seen him in action with our contacts…masterful.”
“Then he could’ve been masterfully lying to you about Korea.”
“Not to me.” She shook her head, and her dark hair slipped over her shoulder.
Quinn wrapped his finger around one silky lock, missing her red curls. “Overconfident much?”
She bit her lip. “Pretty smug, huh? You’re right. He could’ve totally been playing me, but why?”
“I can’t tell you, but it sounds like David used you as a cover and put both of you in danger. Stupid move.” Quinn stretched and then pointed to his laptop. “Are you going to look at these anymore?”
“I’m calling it a night.” She pushed herself up from the sofa. “At least we have one thing to be grateful for.”
He snapped the lid of his laptop closed and stood up next to her, resting a hand on her hip. He was just grateful Rikki was alive and back in his life—sort of. “I know what I’m grateful for.”
Her lips formed an O, and a blush washed over her cheeks. “I-I meant that those people out there who were following Jeff don’t seem to know who I am or what they’re looking for.”
“Yeah, of course.” He pinched her hip. He didn’t want to put Rikki on the spot. If she chose to fly away once she found whatever it was she was looking for, he’d let her go.
She’d gutted him the first time she left him, but her supposed death and rebirth had given him perspective. As long as Rikki Taylor was living and breathing in this world, he’d take that as a win.
Twisting his T-shirt between her fingers, Rikki leaned into him and kissed his chin. “Meet you in bed.”
“You go ahead and get ready. I’ll lock up.”
Quinn checked his doors and windows and stopped to stare down at the dark street. Rikki had been right. They hadn’t been on anyone’s radar until Jeff had been compromised. One of those two men or both had been following Jeff before they even accosted him. They’d tracked him to the cemetery but hadn’t been able to see what he’d done there.
The one guy had already ID’d Rikki as Jeff’s contact, and the other man must’ve been keeping watch on that cemetery and spotted Rikki.
But they didn’t know who she was, and if they weren’t working for the CIA, maybe they didn’t care. As far as the Agency knew, Rikki was dead. Did they want to keep her that way?
Quinn twitched the curtains closed and secured his apartment before sailing through the master bedroom to Rikki snug in his bed. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth. Don’t steal all the covers before I can make it in there.”
She looked up from some papers in her lap. “What is this Quinn, a book?”
He took a detour from his beeline to the bathroom and snatched the papers out of her hand. “Nosy.”
“You’re writing a book?”
“Nothing definite, just telling some stories—with the names and places changed. Just a collection of ideas at this point. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“It is a big deal. You’ll have to run it by the Navy, won’t you?”
“Of course.” He waved the papers. “It’s in its infancy.”
“Had me hooked right away.”
He dumped the papers on his nightstand. “Definitely not bedtime reading, especially after the day we had.”
Quinn went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. When he returned to the bedroom, Rikki had his notes clutched in her hands again, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that good.”
“I think you’ve got something here, Quinn. I’d read this.”
“Yeah, because you live it.” He snatched the papers from her hands again and tossed them on the floor. “I’m looking at something a lot more interesting.”
On his knees, he straddled her and buried one hand in her hair, pulling her close.
Her body, usually so pliant and willing beneath his touch, stiffened.
He kissed her mouth, but her soft lips didn’t return the kiss. He opened his eyes and ran the pad of his thumb over the crease between her eyebrows. “Too wound up? I can fix that.”
“Frederick Von.”
“What? David’s email recipient? Did you remember who he is?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember now.”
Quinn shifted his body and lay on his side, propping up his head with one hand. “Who is he?”
“Frederick Von is a character in David’s spy novel.”
“That’s not what I expected to hear. David wrote a spy novel?”
“He was working on one, and he shared it with me—yours is much better.”
“That’s a relief to hear, but mine’s nonfiction. Why would David be sending emails to a fictional character—his own?”
Rikki crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “Frederick Von was the bad guy in David’s book.”
“I’m not following you, Rikki.”
“Frederick Von was the bad guy—a traitor.”
Quinn blinked.
“A trai-tor.”
Rikki strung out the two syllables as if speaking to someone with a tenuous hold on the English language, and right now he felt as if she were speaking in a different tongue.
He shook his head. “You need to give me a break here. One minute I was ready to ravish you, and the next you’re staring at me speaking gibberish about some fictional character in a bad spy novel—and it would have to be bad if it’s worse than my drivel.”
“I think David was being clever for the sake of being clever in those emails, just because he could and nobody would catch on…nobody but me.”
“David is clever because I still don’t understand the significance.”
“Von is a traitor, Quinn—just like David.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Whoa, whoa.” Quinn held up his hands. “How did you jump to that conclusion?”
“Why the secret emails? Ariel discovered these on a different server, a nonclassified server that wouldn’t be under intense scrutiny after his death. There would’ve been no reason for David to send these emails. The only people who knew about the trip besides David were me and Ariel. David and I communicated in person about the trip. And what do those emails even mean? You said it yourself. They appeared to be cover for a code.”
“A code. It doesn’t mean David was a traitor just because he used the name of his character, who happens to be a traitor.” Quinn slid back under the covers. “If it is true, what do you think David was doing in South Korea if not tracking down a lead on Vlad?”
“I’m not sure, but it all went horribly wrong. David was killed, and I was captured by the North Koreans.” She stretched out beside Quinn and rested her head on his shoulder. “The whole assignment was off. I saw the red flags but didn’t trust my instincts, like David had always taught me.”
“That’s convenient. David taught you to go with your gut…until your gut was warning you against him.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when I had to look into David Dawson.”
“Look into him? How do you propose to do that?”
Draping her arm around Quinn’s waist, Rikki nuzzled his neck. “I’m going to pay a visit to Belinda, David’s widow.”
“That’s a dangerous idea. You want to stay anonymous for as long as you can.”
“Belinda and I never met. She doesn’t have a clue what I look like. She’d know the name, but I’m
no longer Rikki Taylor, remember?”
“I think you’d better let me check in on the widow.”
“You’d come along?” She fluttered her eyelashes against his face. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Doesn’t matter. If you’re going to be doing any investigating, I’m coming with you.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Where are we going?”
“I’ll have to check for sure, but they lived in Georgia—Savannah. She’s from there, so I can’t imagine she’d want to leave after David’s death.”
“We can drive, but I’m not sure what you hope to find out from her.”
“It’s a start. Besides, most agents confide in their spouses, whether or not they’re supposed to. That’s why…” She broke off and buried her face in the hollow between Quinn’s neck and shoulder. That’s why she’d never wanted to get married or have a serious relationship with someone. That’s why she’d run out on Quinn without a backward glance. Her career always had to come first. She never wanted to follow in the footsteps of a man.
But now she and Quinn had a child together, and the longer she waited to tell him, the harder it was going to be to spit it out. What was she afraid of? Quinn would welcome the news, despite his own fears of being a bad father.
“Yeah, yeah.” He wrapped her in his arms. “That’s why you never wanted to get married. We don’t have to get married, Rikki, but we can pretend for a few nights.”
Then he made love to her in a way that no married man had a right to make love to his wife.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Rikki searched for Belinda Dawson and found her in Savannah. She poked at the monitor displaying the address and said, “I think this is a different address from the one she shared with David, but at least she’s still in Savannah.”
“Then it’s on to Georgia today. Map it out and see how far we have to go. It’s about a ten-hour drive, if you’re up to it. I think it’s safer than flying right now, even though you have your fake ID.”
“Driving is fine.” She entered Belinda’s address on the computer. “Will your car make it?”
“It’s sturdier than it looks, and I just changed the oil. Let’s get some breakfast, throw a few things in a bag and hit the road.”
Kick A** Heroines Box Set: The UltimatumFatal AffairAfter the DarkBulletproof SEAL (The Guardian) Page 98