Covert Agent’s Virgin Affair

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Covert Agent’s Virgin Affair Page 11

by Linda Conrad


  Jake finally relaxed enough to let go of Mary and the two of them ran out to meet the firemen. Fire trucks had already been set up and the firemen were preparing to roll out the hose from one of the pumper trucks.

  A pretty blonde woman in a heavy fireman’s jacket and hard hat greeted them in the front yard. “Are you hurt? Is anyone else in the house?”

  “We were alone and I think we’re both okay, Melissa.” Mary swiveled to Jake. “You’re not burned, are you?”

  He coughed and felt his lungs screaming in protest.

  “Come with me,” the blonde told him. “A little oxygen should help that cough.”

  “I don’t need oxygen. I want to help with the fire.”

  “Me, too,” Mary chimed in. “What can we do?”

  The blonde woman studied him up and down and seemed to come to a decision. “Let’s go check with the chief. He’s manning the com system.”

  Within two hours, the fire chief was sifting through ashes inside the still-smoldering remains of the family room. Accompanied by the sheriff, Jake stepped carefully through charred ruins to join him.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Jake checked on Mary. She sat on the back of one of the fire trucks with a Mylar blanket over her shoulders, while someone poured her a hot drink from a thermos. The blonde, Melissa Kelley, stood beside her. It turned out that Melissa was a volunteer paramedic for the Honey Creek fire department and the sister of Mary’s best friend Susan.

  Jake’s mind flashed back a couple of hours to Mary, her image reflected by the raging blaze, as she’d used a garden hose to wet down the perimeter of the house. Hot and grimy, Mary had been absolutely spectacular in her borrowed equipment as she’d fought to keep the blaze from spreading.

  She was sure something. Not once during the entire emergency had she complained or been too scared to help. An impressive strength of spirit came shining through her otherwise timid and studious demeanor. Jake was impressed by her actions and by her bravery in the face of danger.

  He’d thought before that he was falling in love, but now he was hopeless. He had never met anyone like her and doubted he ever would.

  “What do you think, little brother?” Wes asked the fire chief when they came close enough to speak.

  “Arson. No question.” The chief turned to Jake, removed his glove and shook his hand. “Name’s Perry Colton. Wes tells me you and Mary Walsh just made it out with your lives.”

  Another Colton brother. Jake sifted through his memories of the family’s facts. He recollected six Colton brothers altogether. Most of them were not under suspicion, and like Wes, Perry Colton was definitely one of the Coltons he’d put in the cleared column.

  “I wanted to thank you for your help manning one of the fire hoses,” Perry continued. “It’s summer and a few of our volunteers are out of town on vacation. We’re a little short-handed and it was a blessing that you stepped in.”

  “No problem.” Jake looked around at the charred walls. “How bad was it?”

  Perry turned, scanning the scene. “The bulk of the damage was confined to the family room. The blaze was set by someone who knew what they were doing. But whoever did it wasn’t aiming to take down the entire house.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Perry continued speaking over his shoulder. “The upstairs is relatively untouched. Not even much smoke damage. The kitchen doesn’t smell wonderful, but it should be easy enough to clean up once the rest of the house is secured. Looks to me like someone was only trying to make a point.”

  Twisting back, Perry confronted Jake. “You have any idea what that point might’ve been?”

  Wes stepped in between them and his tone of voice became more professional than the one he had been using. “Are you personally going to collect the arson evidence? Or are you planning on calling in the state investigators?”

  Perry stared at his brother with speculation raging in his eyes. “You know something about this you’re not saying, Wes?”

  Wes’s fists went to his hips. “Listen, Perry, just do your…”

  Jake put his hand on Wes’s chest to keep him from saying anything more, then turned back to address Perry. “There’ll be a special investigation team coming in later this morning to secure the rest of the house and clean up the mess. It would be helpful if you could keep the entire area clear of sightseers until then.”

  The understanding expression on Wes’s face and the way he backed up half a step meant he would defer to the FBI in talking to the fire chief. On the other hand, Perry wasn’t ready to concede anything.

  “Special investigation team?” Perry’s eyes narrowed. “This team gonna have some kind of identification they can give me? Who are you anyway?”

  “No one who matters,” Jake said in the friendliest tone he could manage. “The team will carry ID—for your eyes only. But nothing they can show for general public consumption. Meanwhile, the sheriff will vouch for me and I would take it as a personal favor if you could keep the team’s work here quiet. They’ll arrive looking like a regular damage cleanup and alarm-system crew.

  “It would also be great,” Jake tacked on. “If you could tell the media that on first glance this fire looks accidental.”

  “We don’t have a big media presence here,” Perry told him. “Just the Honey Creek Gazette. And I think I can hold off the editor for the time being.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Jake started to walk away but turned back first. “Thanks for everything, chief. Firefighting is one hell of an occupation. Thank God there are volunteers in the world like you.”

  Jake shook Perry’s hand again, nodded to Wes and headed off to check on Mary. He could imagine the sort of questions he would be facing from her. But the biggest problem remained. What answers would he, could he, give?

  “You’re sure your mother doesn’t mind if I change clothes at the farm? I’m pretty grungy.” Jake drove down the long driveway toward the farm as the sun broke through the clouds at midmorning. “You’re grungy?” Mary tried not to touch anything inside Jake’s SUV. “Look at me. I have twigs and knots in my hair that may never come out. My clothes and shoes are hopeless and will have to be pitched. And I smell like the inside of a chimney. If she finds out, Mom shouldn’t care which of us makes the biggest mess.”

  She’d tried to convince Jake to let someone else drive her home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Ever since the fire had broken out last night, he’d been keeping her in sight constantly.

  Mary wanted to believe his motives were pure. That he had been disturbed by the fire and by his fear of her being killed, and he’d needed to keep her nearby in order to assure himself of her safety.

  She wanted to believe that.

  But then she remembered how he’d magically produced a gun last night and had looked very much like someone who knew how to use it. Curiosity sneaked into her mind at odd moments and caused her extreme anxiety. Why hadn’t he told her about the gun before?

  Mary tried to talk to him about it earlier. But he’d put her off, saying he didn’t want to talk around strangers.

  So, she tried again. “You never explained where the gun came from last night. And where is it now? Did you leave it back in the house?”

  Jake set his jaw for a moment and she was afraid he wouldn’t talk to her. Finally he said, “I keep a gun for protection. It’s fairly isolated out there where I live.”

  “It’s isolated here at the farm, too,” she argued as he pulled up in the front yard. “But we don’t have any guns.

  “Well, I have to take that back,” she said as she remembered the facts. “We do have a couple of shotguns that the boys used to scare foxes away from the chickens. But I keep forgetting about those. I haven’t seen them in years.”

  He parked the SUV and turned off the engine. As she opened her mouth to ask something else, he hopped out and came around the front to her side.

  When he opened her door, she asked point-blank, “Jake, where is the gun now?”

  “In the duffel I
packed before we left the house.”

  “Here? You brought a gun along with us? But why?”

  “It’s for protection, Mary. And I didn’t want to explain it to the firemen or anyone else who might be digging around inside the house today.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, she slid out of the seat and headed toward her front door. Something was just not right about what he’d said. She could tell he was leaving something out—something big.

  Mary needed time alone to think things over. They’d been through a lot together. She didn’t want to believe Jake was doing something wrong. But the truth was, he could be involved in anything. He could be a criminal for all she knew.

  A shiver went through her as she unlocked the door and let them inside. By the time they reached the living room, she was already praying that she was wrong. If he wasn’t exactly who he said he was, then he had to be lying. Maybe about a lot of things.

  And she couldn’t stand that idea. Please, no. Not Jake.

  A short while after she got him situated in the guest bathroom with towels and soap, Mary stripped and stood under a cold shower spray in her own bathroom. She didn’t want to think about Jake, but that seemed to be the only thing on her mind.

  What was she going to do about him? How did she really feel about him?

  Unfortunately, her heart formed a loud and clear answer. She was falling in love with him, despite all her heroic efforts not to rush. She probably had been in love with him from that very first night and had been lying to herself about it all along.

  But right from the beginning she had also known he was keeping something from her. She’d thought it might be because he was already married. Making love to a married man would’ve been disastrous enough. Now she had to wonder if the man could be a criminal of some sort. Perhaps a murderer?

  Rubbing shampoo through her hair, Mary considered all she knew of Jake. Her facts were slim. But the feelings…the warm feelings in her heart could be counted in the billions.

  She knew it didn’t matter as much about the gun. Jake was a good man deep inside. She couldn’t be in love with a criminal. No way.

  Mary rinsed off, still trying to make sense of her emotions. She didn’t want to fall for a man she didn’t really know. It wasn’t smart. She could be left hurt and humiliated in the end.

  Grabbing a towel and wrapping her wet hair, she came to the conclusion that she needed advice. From her friends. And from her family. She simply wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jake said with a chuckle. “Your mother still plans on throwing us a barbecue tonight? Haven’t we had enough of smoke to last us for a while?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Ha. We have to eat, don’t we? And you said your kitchen won’t be back in shape for cooking until tomorrow. I don’t think Mom heard about the fire, but still, it was nice of her to offer.”

  Jake needed time alone. He’d been badly shaken by the fire and didn’t want anyone to know it. He’d hoped to leave Mary safely with her family tonight while he went back to work on the house. The FBI security team out of Denver was already there, gathering evidence and securing the undamaged parts of the house. He wanted to help with the boarding-up of windows and doors. To clean up the soot. To be alone with his thoughts and daydream about kicking an imaginary arsonist in the balls.

  Mary was in far too much danger while she was with him. And she was beginning to ask difficult questions. He’d reached a point where he needed a few moments of time-out to consider what to do about her.

  What he preferred to do was to love her. Protect her. Keep her with him forever. But none of that was going to happen.

  Still, he could not keep putting her into the line of fire. Even if that meant telling her the truth, breaking his cover and forfeiting his mission. He knew the truth would likely mean the end of their relationship. Mary would never accept his lies. Not even if they had been told as part of the job.

  Jake had much to consider.

  “I guess a barbecue will be okay,” he hedged. “What’ll we have to do to prepare?”

  “Not a thing. My mom, Craig and Susan will handle everything. Mom’ll be arriving soon to get started.”

  Jake couldn’t think of any good reason to leave Mary here while he went off to think. “Uh. You look tired. Maybe you should catch a nap this afternoon. We didn’t get much sleep.”

  “I’m not tired. But I do need a favor. My hair is an impossible mess. Can you drive me into town to get my hair done?”

  “Sure. How long will that take?”

  Mary ran her fingers through her hair and frowned down at the fringy ends. “Days. Maybe weeks.” Then she laughed. “Just joking. Don’t look so horrified. But I will be at the salon for several hours. Do you mind finding something else to do on your own?”

  “Not at all.” Perfect, he thought.

  The two of them were in absolute sync. When he’d needed time, she needed time. Two hearts magically beating as one? Naw. Too poetic for an undercover agent.

  Chapter 11

  Mary couldn’t wait to close the door to Salon Allegra behind her. Eve Kelley had been cutting her hair for as long as she could remember. But all of a sudden Mary wasn’t comfortable in the woman’s shop anymore.

  It seemed as though Mary wasn’t comfortable in her own skin anymore. She’d begun scrutinizing every person she met in the course of her daily life. It was as if everyone in town, everyone she had known her whole life, could be lying.

  Whenever she saw anyone, the first thing she did was wonder what they might know about the fire at Jake’s. Or—whether they’d been in on her father’s murder.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Mary let the warmth of a late-afternoon sun temporarily melt away all her suspicions. She turned, but stopped before she could take the first step. Jake was waiting there, leaning casually against a light pole about five feet down the sidewalk.

  “You look beautiful,” he said without moving. “How do you feel?”

  She felt like a woman in love who had reason to stop trusting her man. To stop trusting everybody. That was how she felt.

  But she wasn’t ready to say anything about it. “I’m okay. How about you? Any aftereffects from the smoke?”

  Jake closed the gap between them and took her by the shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t been breathing all day—not until just now. Having you back in my arms has restarted my heart.”

  He bent his head, touching his lips to hers. His kiss wasn’t passionate or as desperate as many of their kisses. But it was so tender and so meaningful that when he finally pulled away and gazed down at her, Mary’s eyes were overflowing with unshed tears and her heart was overflowing, too.

  Here was something she could trust. Whatever hidden agendas might lie between them, their need for each other seemed sincere and strong. The two of them had no problems in the bedroom—or the family room, or the kitchen—or wherever they could find a quiet place to be alone together.

  So why was she ready to tell him goodbye? It seemed crazy. But on occasion she could swear Jake’s eyes held the very same message that filled her heart. That the two of them were only together on borrowed time.

  Sighing, she took a shaky step back and broke the spell. Just in time.

  “Yoo-hoo. Is that you, Mary Walsh?”

  Talk about being a little crazy. Maisie Colton appeared out of nowhere and headed straight down the sidewalk toward them. Caught between Jake and the town’s weirdest citizen, Mary felt as if she were drowning in quicksand.

  Shifting to the other foot, she mentally prepared for the upcoming blast of nuttiness.

  “I thought that must be you,” Maisie said as she came within striking distance. “But I could hardly believe my eyes. The formerly chubby little Mary Walsh kissing a strange man in public—and in broad daylight, no less. Who would’ve thought it? Strange happenings keep on coming in this town.”

  Mary closed her eyes and wished she could fly away.

 
“The name’s Jake Pierson, ma’am.” Jake’s mellow voice punctured Maisie’s screeching and worked like a salve on Mary’s nerves. “And it was me who was kissing the gorgeous Miss Walsh, not the other way around,” he finished.

  Mary’s eyes popped open when she heard Jake’s words. He stepped in close to her side and folded her arm around his elbow as though they belonged together.

  “How very gallant of you, Jake. And I’m Maisie Colton. Of the Coltons, you know?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve already met several of your brothers.”

  “Oh, them. Bo-o-o-ring.” Maisie waved away any more talk of her family. “I was hoping to run into you two. I need your help.”

  Mary’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t even like guessing what Maisie might want from them. Eleven years older than Mary, Maisie Colton had meant trouble for as long as Mary could remember. Though she was certainly beautiful, tall, thin, and with startling aqua eyes, in a way, Maisie reminded Mary of one of the witches from the book The Witches of Eastwick. Beautiful but deadly.

  “I heard about your house burning last night, Jake. Too bad. What—or who—do you suppose could’ve started it?”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her. “The fire started in the family room near the fireplace. Fireplaces are known to be an accident waiting to happen.”

  Mary heard the hedge in Jake’s words and wondered if Maisie noticed it, too.

  “Right,” Maisie said as she flipped her hair. “Well, I called the Dr. Sophie TV show again this morning because I figured arson would be the thing that would tip the scales in favor of them doing a piece on Honey Creek for a national audience.”

  Yep. Maisie had noted Jake’s equivocation.

  No one else might’ve caught it, but Mary saw that Jake was having a strange reaction to Maisie’s ravings. He straightened up, the corners of his mouth tensed and he took a step back. Jake wasn’t happy.

  “Did the show seem interested this time, Maisie?” Mary wanted Jake to understand that the nutty woman had contacted the show many times in the past with her wild stories. “The last time you called, didn’t they ask you not to contact them anymore?”

 

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