by Addison Fox
“Fine, sir.”
Lines carved deep into the man’s face as he held up his free hand in a gesture to stay. His other still held a firm grip on his pistol. “Don’t move. Techs are coming right behind.”
As several of his Bureau mates flooded in behind Mark and Leo, Derek willed himself to stand still.
And hoped like hell he hadn’t just become a sitting duck.
* * *
Landry flipped through the file she’d stowed in her purse, ever hopeful something new would reach out and grab her from the papers. Not that it had so far.
She shook her head, trying to remove the lethargy and cross-eyed exhaustion reams of paperwork could cause in a person. The hours had ticked off the clock with aching slowness, matched only by the tedium of working her way through page after page of government documentation.
She and Derek had reviewed the files they’d printed at the FBI as they’d been able, but always in bunches, stack by stack. When the idea hit her the night before—to lay the papers out in hope of finding a pattern—she’d believed it worth a try.
Now?
She’d finally accepted the fact that she’d spent the better portion of eight hours engaged in a vain attempt to find patterns that simply didn’t exist. Add on a vat of black coffee and all she had to show for her time was a case of the jitters and considerably more familiarity with her family tree.
Life events. News clippings. Flight plans.
Each report was yet another piece of evidence defining her family over the past century like a mini film rolling before her eyes.
She reviewed the photo of her grandmother in her Irish lace wedding gown and could picture the same gown where it was preserved behind glass on a dressmaker’s dummy in the family house in North Carolina.
A news report announcing the initial public offering of AdAir Corp, her father’s proud smile reflecting up at her from the page. The same photo still sat, framed in his old office, a lone hundred-dollar bill set off beneath the image signifying AdAir Corp’s first earnings as a public company.
And then there was Jackson’s birth announcement, memorialized in a Raleigh newspaper. The notation of his parentage—Reginald and Ruby—and a photo of the two of them leaving the hospital in Raleigh. Some enterprising photographer had expected that the couple might be worth something someday and had camped out to grab the shot. He’d had no idea his photo would become one of the centerpieces of a kidnapping investigation a mere three months later.
Landry rubbed at her arms and dragged the comforter around her shoulders.
Her family records. But were they really the key to uncovering family secrets?
Although her grandmother had died when she was small, she tried to conjure up some memories in her mind. A sleek woman, Eleanor Adair had prized her standing as one of the leading socialites in Raleigh. She’d married into the Adair family to cement that position and ensure she birthed the next generation of Raleigh society.
On the rare occasions they had spent time together, Eleanor had kept them all at a distance. Landry remembered a summer visit when the head cook had sneaked her, Whit and Carson Popsicles and her grandmother nearly fired the woman on the spot for allowing the children on the “good sofa.”
Could that vain, vapid woman really be behind it all? Had she stolen from one child to give to another? And to what end?
Landry’s gaze fell on the clock and she registered the time. It was ten already?
She’d expected to hear from Derek by now.
The urge to shoot him a quick text was strong but she had no idea if even the vibration of his phone might alert someone to his presence, so she held back. She vowed to call the FBI in another fifteen minutes if she didn’t hear from him.
She sifted through the pile on the bed, digging once more for the articles about her grandmother. The memories of Eleanor had left a funny aftertaste, and she was curious if the woman was as brittle and emotionless as she remembered.
The stack of newspaper announcements she’d placed together earlier—weddings, births, deaths—were in easy reach and Landry flipped through them.
Eleanor’s engagement to Baxter Adair. The requisite wedding photos that took up what had to be the entire section of a newspaper at that time. The announcement of Bucannon’s birth, followed by Rosalyn’s and Emmaline’s and then her father’s.
She flipped to the last page and found the photos of Emmaline’s wedding. Her late husband, Nicholas Scott, stared back from the photo, his hands entwined with Emmaline’s.
At the image staring back at her, Landry stilled, Georgia’s words coming back to her.
Georgia had believed Noah bore a shocking resemblance to Ruby’s late father. A resemblance that was more than evident in photos, which had tipped Georgia off to the possible connection.
And the photo she held in her hand showed nothing similar between Noah and the man everyone believed to be his father. Noah had the Adair blue eyes but he had dark blond hair. No one in the Adair family was blond unless it came out of the bottle, and Emmaline’s late husband had dark hair that looked almost black in the photo.
On a frustrated sigh she crossed to the dresser and gave herself a good once-over in the mirror.
It could be a coincidence.
Hair color changed as people aged. Heck, she knew that as well as anyone, since she paid good money for the blond that highlighted her hair. But still...
She twirled a lock of her own hair—dark with blond highlights—and considered the photo on the bed. Noah had a fresh-faced, all-American look about him that didn’t mesh with Nicholas Scott’s darker European looks.
The connection was skimpy, but it was valid.
Her gaze alighted on one of the other stacks she’d piled up and she dug through, suddenly curious about the birth certificate she’d flipped past earlier.
“Noah, Noah, Noah,” she muttered as she worked her way through the stack. “There!”
The birth certificate was in French, the dates reversed in the custom Europeans used. Date first, followed by month and then year.
“Oh, no.” Landry scanned the papers once more, her gaze skimming over the dates. “Aunt Emmaline. What did you do?”
* * *
Derek sat in the interrogation room, his earlier expectations ringing like a haunting reminder in his mind. He’d been in here for hours, various members of the department taking shots at him with endless questions.
“Walk me through it again, Winchester.”
“Damn it, Leo, I’ve walked you through it. Several freaking times already. Big Al was dead when I got there.”
“So how did you end up with all his blood covering you?”
“I came upon him by surprise. You were in there. You saw how narrow the cubicles were and the position of the body.”
Leo shook his head. “You walked into a dead guy? Come on, Derek. You haven’t been on leave that long. You know protocol. Procedure.”
“And I also know my partner was supposed to have my back and he didn’t.”
“Yet you went in anyway.”
Derek saw the corner he’d painted himself into and focused on his rationale. “Rena’s been missing for months now. We owe it to the kid to find her.”
“And you owe it to your teammates and yourself to follow the correct procedures designed to keep your ass safe!” Leo slammed his fist onto the table. “Why the hell didn’t you wait? Now I’ve got one of my best agents at the scene of a crime, with a man he’s already shot once, gun in hand and blood all over him, and a pattern of bullet holes you’re known for.”
The adrenaline that had sustained him throughout the long hours of questioning kicked in, drawing on a reserve Derek didn’t even know he had. “Excuse me?”
“The bullet holes. The throat and chest. On the vic.”
“It’s signature Derek Winchester. All the way back to your days with the Secret Service. Your shots are meticulous.”
A terrible cold began to spread through his body, numbing him to his core, and the strange sense of familiarity he had while examining the vic came back to him in full force. “I didn’t shoot Al, Leo.”
“You had every reason to. You didn’t follow procedure. No one was there with you. And the vic bore your signature shot pattern.”
“He died at the hands of someone else. All I did was find the guy. And where were you all, anyway?”
“Us?” Derek saw the spark leap into Leo’s eyes and knew he needed to tread carefully. When had this gone so far south?
“All of you. Mark wasn’t where he was supposed to be. And hell, no one else was where they were supposed to be, either. You guys were parked across from the warehouse and never even showed up until you followed behind Mark.”
“We weren’t across from the warehouse.”
“Of course you were. I saw the department issue when I pulled up.”
“What department issue?” Leo pushed forward, his body vibrating with sudden interest. “We weren’t there, Winchester.”
The cold in his veins receded, replaced by the sudden kindling of anger and betrayal.
Where was Mark in all this?
Mark had given him the intel. Mark had worked through all the logistics with him on the drive up from Adair Acres. And Mark had arranged tonight’s drop.
Derek glanced toward the two-way mirrored glass, then caught Leo’s eyes. He reached for the notepad at his elbow and scribbled a quick note.
So who was at the warehouse?
* * *
Derek was still shaking a half hour later as he sat in Leo’s office. He’d finally been given leave to call Landry. A vague sense of shame tugged at him as she was ushered into Leo’s office and he tried to push it away.
He hadn’t done anything. Yet here he was, stuck in his boss’s office waiting for her, unable to leave on his own.
“Derek!” She launched herself at him, her arms wrapping tight around his midsection. She’d asked minimal questions on the phone but he could see that the lack of information had shaken her. Her face was pale and he heard a distinct quaver beneath her words. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m sorry to do this to you and I’ll explain it later, but you need to follow my lead. Nod if you understand.”
She pulled back, her eyes wide with concern, but she nodded, the move nearly imperceptible.
“Landry. Let me introduce you to my commanding officer, Leo Manchester.”
The two of them worked their way through introductions and it was only when Leo sat behind his desk, his hands folded, that Derek saw the realization kick in as it covered Landry’s face in subtle surprise.
She wasn’t here for a polite series of introductions.
“Miss Adair. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about last night?” When she only nodded, Leo pressed on. “I understand you accompanied Derek into the city last night.”
“Yes. He’s been a guest in my home and when he got the call to come into the city, I told him I’d drive him while he worked on his preparations in the car.”
“That was awfully generous of you.”
She shrugged, but she never broke eye contact. “I care for Derek. I wanted him to be safe.”
“And you thought you could keep him safe?”
“I hardly think a trained FBI agent needs my protection. But I did think he could use the help I was capable of offering, namely a ride.”
The two bantered back and forth and, to her credit, she never wavered from her story.
Nor did she back down.
Whatever questions Leo threw her way, she answered back in kind. But it was the last that had Leo stilling in a mixture of surprise and shock.
“Look, Agent Manchester. Perhaps I’ve been a bit too delicate. Derek and I are in a relationship. We spent last evening together and were, in fact, together when he got the call. I care for him and I refused to see him go alone. Nagged him about it until he gave in, as a matter of fact.”
“Were you aware Derek was heading into a confrontation with a man he shot not too long ago? A shooting that was responsible for his current leave of absence from the Bureau.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Yet you were willing to help him?”
“It was my understanding that Derek’s been focused on saving a young girl’s life. That’s what I was helping him to see through to fruition.”
“I think Miss Adair has been rather accommodating, Leo. Are you done with her?” Derek said.
“Actually, I think I can resolve this misunderstanding.” Landry laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. My car has the latest in GPS technology. Derek punched in the coordinates for me to the hotel and hit Start on the navigation instructions. There’s a time stamp there that should be easy enough to verify.”
The slightest smile played about Leo’s lips before he nodded. “If we can get your permission on that, I can have a tech check it out and get you on your way.” Leo’s gaze was pointed. “Both of you on your way.”
* * *
Derek hadn’t managed to shake the vague sense of embarrassed shame that had dogged him since Landry arrived at headquarters, but he’d added frustration and anger to the mix.
What had Mark been thinking?
If Derek were honest with himself, he knew Mark didn’t live and breathe the job like he did. Hell, few people lived and breathed the job like he did, and Derek had accepted long ago that wasn’t a shortcoming in others.
“You haven’t said much.” Landry took a sip from a diet soda she’d picked up when they stopped for fast food for the drive back. Her half-eaten burger still sat in the console between them, neatly wrapped.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“That seems to be going around.”
The dry notes of her voice faded into the space between them like dust. “Want to talk about it?”
“Yes, but I want to hear what happened first. I played along with your boss but I want to hear it from you.”
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?”
“Yes.”
That one word—sincere and absolute—did more to assuage the roiling storm inside than anything else could have.
She believed in him.
The same clarity that had assailed him as she drove away from the drop site came back once again and he reached for her hand. She linked their fingers, and the physical show of support was as welcome as her simple words.
Words. Actions.
The thought stuck—took root—and Derek turned it over in his mind. Mark’s words didn’t match his actions. And as he sifted through the past few months in his mind, he realized that Mark’s actions had been off for a while.
“Come on, Derek. Walk me through it. Explain it and maybe it will make more sense to you, as well.”
The retelling of the previous evening took nearly the entire drive to Adair Acres. Landry had stayed quiet throughout, stopping him only a few times to ask questions. And as they drove through the gates that bore the double As, Derek was surprised to realize how therapeutic it was to talk through the events with someone else.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” The afternoon sun was high and she shielded her eyes as she drove down the long, winding driveway.
“You made me walk through it, step by step. Leo was so busy pressing for details it made it impossible to think through the small impressions that mean as much as the large ones.”
“There’s something else.” La
ndry nodded before pulling into a space near the garages. She turned toward him and took his hands in hers. “Rena wasn’t there. I think you need to accept that she might be gone.”
The swift sucker punch to the gut had him dragging his hands away as her words stole into his mind like a thief. “We just haven’t found her yet.”
“Derek. Look at the circumstances. That child’s been used as bait, but have you really seen her?”
“Mark’s got intel that has put her in each of the locations we’ve monitored.”
“Mark. There you go with Mark again. Why the hell can’t you see he’s the problem? Did you gather the damn intel yourself?”
“He’s my partner. I trust him to gather as much of the information as I do.”
“But you haven’t gathered anything since you’ve been on leave. It’s been all him.”
Derek slammed out of the car, his frustration mounting to the point he needed out of the SUV.
He knew Landry wasn’t responsible for the situation he found himself in. He was still figuring out exactly how he himself was responsible for all the strange twists and turns that had sent the Frederickson case off the rails. But he also knew he didn’t need her poking holes in the things he was sure of.
“I’m on a leave I didn’t ask for, playing babysitter, so I’ve used the resources at my disposal. Namely my partner.”
The babysitter arrow was out of the quiver before he could pull it back, and now he had to watch it pierce Landry’s chest. Something cold and dark settled in her vivid blue eyes, turning them to ice. “I wasn’t aware I was such an imposition.”
“Damn it, Landry—” He broke off, well aware he had no excuse for the remark.
Or the bad behavior.
“The remark wasn’t directed at you.”
She put up a hand as he moved closer. “I’m not interested in talking to you right now.”
Her body language was an even more effective deterrent than her words and Derek took a step back.
“I need to take care of some responsibilities this afternoon. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Of course.” He knew an apology was in order, but he also had the good sense to know it wasn’t going to be well received, so he let her walk away.