by Paula Graves
They had hoped the other two generals, Harlowe and Marsh, might be able to answer some of their questions, but Harlowe and his family had gone missing around the same time Shannon had found the journal. And Baxter Marsh was being anything but cooperative with Cooper Security at the moment.
“If he had any secrets,” she said, “ I don’t know what they could be.”
“Well,” Eric said, standing up, “that’s a subject you need to table, at least for tonight. I’m not going to risk getting your blood pressure up again by trying to put you on IV fluids, but that means you need to drink plenty of fluids, starting now.” He turned to Wade. “You need to check on her every couple of hours.”
“You mean wake me up every few hours to make sure I’m not in a coma,” Annie grumbled.
The doctor shot her an apologetic look. “Exactly.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Wade said firmly. He felt Annie’s gaze on him and slanted a look her way. She was studying him through narrowed eyes as if trying to figure out his angle.
He almost laughed aloud. He had no angle. He was probably the simplest, most straightforward of all the Coopers. No inscrutable motives like Jesse or hidden depths like Isabel. He didn’t possess a genius brain like Shannon or the chameleon-like charm of his brother Rick. Of all his siblings, he was the most like his sister Megan, and even down-home country girl Megan had more layers than he did.
He waited until Eric had left to speak. “I don’t have a lot to offer in the way of juice. There’s apple juice in the fridge, and water of course.”
“Water’s fine.”
He limped into the kitchen and dug in the cabinet until he found a thirty-two-ounce water bottle with a drinking nozzle. “Iced or tap?”
“Iced.” Her voice was impossibly close, making him jerk with surprise. He turned to find her only a couple of feet away, one hand holding on to the kitchen bar, as if she needed its support to stay upright. “I can get it.”
He shook his head. “You need to be in bed resting. Why don’t you go ahead and get settled and I’ll bring you the water.”
Her eyes narrowed again. “What’s in this for you?”
“You need help. That’s what Cooper Security does.”
“For a price.”
He inclined his head toward her, conceding her point. “In this case, we’re hoping for a little information.”
“From me?”
“Maybe. Hopefully from your father.”
His answer seemed to confuse her. “What kind of information?”
He hadn’t yet been given the go-ahead to tell Annie Harlowe about the coded journal. Knowledge of its whereabouts had nearly gotten his sister killed only a couple of weeks ago. The mercenaries looking for the journal—and, Wade assumed, the high-powered men who’d hired them to find it—almost certainly knew that Cooper Security now had the journal. It was one reason Jesse had raised the security level at the offices.
Annie swayed on her feet, steadying herself on the side of the refrigerator. Wade set down the bottle of iced water and caught her before she slid to the floor.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder a moment, then lifted her face to look at him. Tears trickled from her eyelids. She dashed them away. “Damn it.”
“Don’t try to recover all at once,” Wade murmured, remembering his own frustration with his slow rate of recovery after his injury. “One step at a time. And the first step needs to be rest.” He tightened his grip on her, trying to ignore the soft curves that even three weeks of captivity hadn’t starved away from her. She was built the way he liked a woman, fit but curvy, with full breasts, generous hips and a little meat on her bones.
“I don’t have time to wait.” Pushing out of his arms, she grabbed the edge of the counter to maintain her balance and gazed up at him. Desperation lined her face. “I have to find my family.”
“And we’ll help you with that. But tonight, you need to rest. I’ll call Eric and see if there’s something he can give you to help you sleep.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want anything. Head injury, remember?”
“Oh. Right.” He picked up the water bottle and screwed on the cap. “Well, let’s get you settled.” He glanced at his watch—well after midnight now. “I’ll set my alarm to get me up around two-thirty to check on you.”
She grimaced. “Is that really necessary?”
“Doctor’s orders.”
She slanted a look at him. “Do you always do what you’re told?”
“Rarely,” he admitted with a grin. “But I do when it makes sense.”
She gave him another one of her narrow-eyed looks. He was getting used to it. Clearly she was one of those people who figured everyone had a hidden agenda. He supposed she had a right—she had been living and working in the nation’s capital for five years, according to her dossier. She was a reporter for one of the papers there, on the political beat. That was surely enough to make anyone a fire-breathing cynic.
A knock on the door set his nerves on edge. It made Annie visibly flinch. She reached out a shaking hand toward him before dropping it back to her side.
“Probably my cousin,” he reassured her. He walked to the door and checked through the peephole. His young cousin stood outside, looking solemn and intense.
He opened the door. “Hey, Scooter.”
She rolled her eyes at the nickname. “Where is she?”
“I’m here.” Annie spoke quietly behind him. Turning, he found her standing straight and steady, though the grinding of her jaw muscles and the clenching of her fists showed what an effort it was taking for her to remain upright. “You must be Cissy.”
Cissy smiled, but it was halfhearted. She’d had a personal trauma a few months earlier, losing her first serious boyfriend and what was left of her innocence in one cruel blow. Gone was the eager, excited girl who’d been looking forward to applying to the FBI as soon as she graduated college. This older, wiser Cissy Cooper was quieter. Gloomier. But she was also stronger and more mature. Finding out the guy you loved was a murderer could do that to a person, Wade supposed.
“It’s really late. We should all be in bed,” Cissy said firmly. She set her overnight bag on the floor by the sofa. “Who’s sleeping where?”
“You’ve got the foldout in the study. Annie has the bed, and I’ll sleep here on the sofa.”
“Okay.” Cissy looked at Annie. “You catch me up on your condition and what we have to do to get you back to your old self. Wade, can you take my bag to the study?” Cissy led Annie out of the living room.
With a bemused smile, Wade picked up the suitcase and carried it to the study. As he set about unfolding the pullout sofa for his cousin, he could hear soft conversation going on in the bedroom, too low for him to make out any words.
Taking a chance his cousin was still awake after the evening’s excitement, he punched in Aaron’s cell phone number.
Aaron answered on the first ring. “You’re still up?”
“About to bunk down,” Wade answered. “I just wanted to check on something—did the rape exam done on Annie Harlowe turn up anything?”
“I’m not supposed to share that with anybody outside law enforcement.”
“Well, could you tell her? I know it’s eating at her.” He walked to the bedroom and found the door ajar. Cissy was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the red blotches Annie was showing her.
They both looked up as Wade entered. Cissy’s eyes burned with bleak fury. “Can you believe what they did to her?”
Sadly, after all they’d learned about the S.S.U. over the past couple of years, he could believe their depravity with unsettling ease. “Annie, I’ve got my cousin Aaron on the phone. He has the results of the rape exam.”
Her expression froze, but he saw fear in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand for the phone. Wade handed it over, and she put the phone to her ear. “This is Annie Harlowe.”
She listened for a moment, her expression un
changed. Then she swallowed hard, said, “Thank you,” to Aaron and handed the phone back to Wade. She took another deep breath and murmured, “Negative.”
Wade felt a little of the tension in his back unwind. He put the phone in his pocket. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Annie pulled the covers up over her, tucking her knees up to her chest. “It means I wasn’t raped in the last little while. I’m not sure it can be definitive about the last three weeks. And I can’t remember any of it.”
“My aunt Hannah had a concussion and lost some of her memory, but she got it all back eventually,” Cissy said. “It can happen for you, too.”
“I wish it would happen soon. I can’t stand not knowing, especially with my parents in danger.” Her expression fell. “If they’re even still alive.”
“I think they must be,” Wade said carefully. He didn’t want to give her false hope just for the hell of it—believing a lie never did a person any good in the end. But everything he knew about the three generals suggested that the S.S.U. would be under orders to keep General Harlowe alive.
The best cryptographers Cooper Security had on staff had agreed with Wade’s sister Shannon’s assessment: General Ross’s coded journal would probably require input from the other two generals to decode. With General Ross dead, it would be that much more vital for the S.S.U. to keep General Harlowe and General Marsh alive. They’d made a grave error in killing General Ross. It wasn’t a mistake they’d make twice if they could avoid it.
They’d kept Annie alive for three weeks, apparently using her as leverage against her father. Her escape made it all the more likely that they’d keep Mrs. Harlowe alive as well. She was the only piece of leverage they had left, with Annie out of the picture.
“I think we should all get some sleep.” Cissy tugged Wade’s arm.
Wade shot a smile at Annie. “See you in a couple of hours.”
To his pleasure, she made a face at him, a hint of a smile curving her pale lips. That’s more like it, he thought.
He followed Cissy out and closed the door behind him.
“She looks like hell,” Cissy said when they reached the study. “No wonder she fears what she can’t remember. What we know is bad enough.”
“I appreciate your coming tonight. Above and beyond the call of duty.”
Cissy’s expression darkened. “I hate those S.S.U. sons of bitches.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I reckon you would.”
She leaned against his arm and he pulled her into a bear hug. After a moment, she wriggled free and shot him a saucy grin, the first real smile he’d seen from her in days. “Why don’t we take turns with the wake-up call? You can take the first one, and I’ll set my alarm clock for four hours from now?”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“I don’t mind.” Cissy picked up her overnight bag. “Go get some sleep yourself. Two hours will come fast.”
Wade headed for the living room, nearly tripping over Ernie. “Don’t like sleeping with a pretty woman?” he asked the cat.
Ernie jumped up on the sofa, his green eyes gleaming.
Wade set his alarm clock for two hours later, turned off the light and stretched out on the sofa, groaning as his knee seized up briefly as he stretched it out. Ernie curled up on Wade’s side, purring loudly. The cat had become bold over the past few weeks, making himself right at home inside the house. Wade should probably quit pretending he didn’t really have a cat.
He stared up at the ceiling, where faint light from outside washed over it. Used to being alone, he keenly felt the presence of the two other women now sleeping under his roof. Both of them gave him ample reasons to worry, Cissy with her broken heart and broken spirit, and Annie Harlowe with her battered body, foggy mind and danger hanging over her like a black cloud. They both needed a champion.
A hero.
But Wade was afraid he wasn’t hero material anymore.
Chapter Six
“The code. Where is it?”
Annie squinted against the bright lamp. Her head hurt, her skin felt as if it were on fire, and the light stabbed her aching eyes like brilliant knives. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her throat felt raw and dry, her voice little more than a croak.
“Don’t pretend your daddy didn’t tell you.” The voice belonged to a man, the broad Louisiana drawl reminding her of her cousins from Houma. But she’d never heard this man’s voice before. She’d have remembered it.
“Where’s my father?” she asked, fear strangling her.
“He sends his love,” her captor replied with a sneering smile in his voice. His face was hidden behind the utility light shining in her face, his features impossible to make out. He was only a voice, a hateful, sneering growl that chilled her to the bone.
“Where’s my mother?”
“She’s safe. For now but your daddy won’t tell us anything,” the man continued. “So you have to do it for him. Save him, ’cause the old bastard’s not going to save himself.”
That wasn’t true, either, Annie thought through the fog inhabiting her brain. He had to have told them something, or they wouldn’t know about the code at all. She couldn’t believe anything her captor said, she realized. Not a word that came out of this man’s mouth could be trusted as the truth.
Protect the code. That’s what her father had said. She could hear his growling drawl, as if he were speaking directly into her ear. “Whatever happens, whoever demands answers, you must protect the code.”
“Annie?” Another voice spoke behind the light. A warm, drawling voice that made her chest ache with relief. “Annie, time to wake up again.”
She opened her eyes and the bright light was gone, replaced by the soft glow of morning light seeping in through the bedroom windows. Next to her, Wade Cooper’s body was a warm, solid reality so welcome after her nightmare that she wanted to fling herself into his arms and bury her face in his broad chest.
She resisted the urge, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’m awake.”
Wade gently checked her pulse. “Heart rate’s a little high.”
“I was having a nightmare,” she admitted, though she couldn’t remember more than a snippet of it now. Just a voice, her father’s rumbling words, spoken in a near whisper.
Protect the code.
“Do you remember anything about it?”
She almost told him. But something inside, a clawing terror that nearly stole her breath, silenced her. “Not really.”
“Feel like moving around a little?” He held his hand out to her.
She took it, shivering as his big, warm hand closed over hers, and let him help her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. The last couple of times she’d awakened, first with Wade, then with Cissy, she’d felt dizzy and more than a little queasy. But at the moment, she almost felt normal. And starving.
“I think I might be hungry.” She shot Wade a lopsided grin.
He smiled. “Good thing Cissy’s in there fixing breakfast, then.”
She could smell it now, the unmistakable aroma of bacon frying. “Y’all trying to fatten me up?” she asked, falling effortlessly into the coastal Carolina drawl of her childhood.
His smile quirked. “Where’d that accent come from?”
“Charleston, South Carolina,” she answered with a self-conscious smile. “Our home base. My parents are both from there.”
“It’s nice.” Wade stood, grimacing as he put weight on his bad knee. “Check the closet. Apparently Isabel scavenged spare outfits from all the Cooper girls close to your size. No telling what you’ll find.”
What she found were several sets of jeans, shirts and a couple of light sweaters. The clothes were all a little loose on her but in no danger of falling off, and given how eagerly her stomach was growling at the smell of frying bacon, she had a feeling her clothes would need to be as loose as possible for all the food she intended to wolf down as soon as she reached the kitchen.
She didn
’t quite make it all the way through the bacon and cheese omelet Cissy plated for her before her stomach protested, but she did manage to down a whole glass of apple juice. By the time Dr. Brannon dropped by around nine to check on her, she felt almost like her old self.
“Greatly improved,” he pronounced with a look of satisfaction. “You’re making me look like a medical superhero, Ms. Harlowe.”
“I feel better,” she conceded. “Think I can go outside for a while?”
Wade shook his head. “You know you can’t go out.”
“Not even for a walk?” She looked longingly at the sun shining outside the living room window. “I don’t know where I was kept, but I doubt I got much fresh air or sunshine. I’m sure I’ll feel loads better if I can move around and get some sun. I’m probably vitamin D deficient by now.” She looked away from Wade and addressed the doctor. “Tell him I need sunshine.”
“I know you want to keep her under wraps,” Dr. Brannon said over his shoulder to Wade. “But she’s right. There’s only one other house in the immediate area, right? And it’s empty at the moment.”
Wade looked inclined to nix the idea, which grated on her nerves. “Am I your prisoner?” she asked, reprising a question she’d asked the night before.
His expression shifted. “No. Of course not.”
“You can come with me. Watch my back.”
Wade glanced at Cissy. She shrugged.
“Okay. But when I say it’s time to come back inside, no arguing.”
“Deal.” She was surprised by how excited she was at the prospect of a stroll around the lake house. Just how far had her life devolved over the past three weeks that she’d find the idea of a simple stroll so stimulating?
By the time she and Wade had wandered a hundred yards from his house, she had her answer. It had devolved a lot. The muscles in her legs screamed and burned, and she was nearly out of breath.
“My first physical therapy session after the surgeons put my leg back together was hell.” Wade stopped to lean against a pine tree trunk.
She leaned against one a few feet away, grateful for the chance to rest and catch her breath. “How’d you hurt your leg?”