by Linda Conrad
However, Jake’s shot did not. Their assailant was dead before he ever hit the ground.
It was over that fast.
“Jake! Are you okay?” Mary flew at him, landing against his chest and throwing her arms around his neck. She covered his face in kisses.
He eased both his own weapon and Mary’s to the ground and then closed his arms around her, reveling in the feel of her warm body. She was alive and breathing. And Jake felt nearly faint with relief.
Mary eased back in his arms and gazed into his eyes. “Was it my shot that killed him? I was so afraid for you.”
Spectacular. “No, my love. You’re no killer. But without your actions, we might not have made it.”
Jake would never love her any more than he did right this minute. The woman was beyond strong, both emotionally and physically. It thrilled him to see the way she’d been fierce in her determination both to live and to save his life. Determined, because she still had no idea about his lies.
For the moment.
A little later, Jake sat back on his heels beside the body of his partner with memories flooding his mind. Memories of missions won and lost. Of a decade of years, some with near misses and many with clear victories. Years of being there to watch each other’s back and to give assistance when things got rough.
Scraping a hand across his eyes, Jake murmured, “How could this happen? You…taking one for me? If anyone should’ve died here, partner, it should’ve been me. I’m a miserable nothing and you had it all. This was my show. My…mistake.”
Jake heard heavy footsteps behind his back, but he didn’t move. What for?
“I just got off the phone with your boss, Pierson.” The voice belonged to the sheriff. “SAC Benton is en route. Should be here within an hour and a half. He’ll be bringing a forensics team with him but he wants us to secure the scene and do our best to keep a lid on things.”
Jake didn’t turn. His eyes weren’t focusing and his brain wasn’t fully engaged.
“Uh…” Wes cleared his throat. “He also asked me to take charge of your weapons. Only for the time being, you understand.”
Jake waved a hand toward the two weapons, lying not far away on the ground. “One is my personal weapon. The other belongs to the unsub. There’s also my 10 mm service pistol in a duffel in the master bedroom closet.”
He wasn’t ready to mention the Glock 9 mm hidden in the SUV. That one would stay hidden for a while.
“Jake…” Wes put a hand on his shoulder. “The county coroner is on his way out to make the pronouncements. Let me cover Jim’s body until he arrives. He was my friend from our SEAL days, too, remember.”
Jake got to his feet, closed his eyes for an instant then turned to face the sheriff. “Do it.”
After Wes spread a Mylar blanket over his partner’s body, Jake finally felt able to take his first deep breath since the shooting. “How’s Mary?”
“She’s with the paramedic. Looks and sounds a little shaky to me, but a lot calmer than most civilians after going through what she did. I can hardly believe Mary actually took a shot at the assailant and then witnessed him die. Most women would be hysterical.”
“I know. But Mary’s pretty tough.” Somehow Jake wasn’t the least surprised by the revelation.
“Melissa doesn’t believe Mary’s in shock, but she wants to take her to the Bozeman hospital for an evaluation and a CT scan. She says Mary’s got a hell of a goose egg on her head.”
Jake nodded. “Bozeman would be good. Anywhere out of Honey Creek. When is she going?”
“Mary claims she won’t leave until she talks to you.”
Ah, hell. Jake fisted his hands but knew it was time to man up. Mary deserved answers.
“And Melissa is insisting,” Wes went on, “that your cuts and scrapes need to be cleaned and your feet checked before she’s free to take Mary anywhere.”
“My feet?” Jake looked down and realized for the first time that he was barefoot. “I’m fine. Tell the paramedic not to concern herself.”
Wes didn’t reply but turned and made his way over to the body of the unsub. “This bastard had been stalking you and Mary.”
“I know. That’s why I asked Jim to keep an eye on us from outside the alarm perimeter tonight.”
Wes screwed up his mouth and nodded before bending to inspect the attacker’s corpse. “We found a tree perch in the woods that the stalker must’ve been using,” he said over his shoulder. “And my men located a sniper rifle that was probably the one that took out your partner.”
Jake walked over to where Wes was bending over to pat down the unsub. He stood beside the sheriff, gazing down at the man he’d killed and feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Wes had another question for him. “You have any idea why this character would’ve suddenly decided to kill you instead of sticking with the games he’d been playing?” Wes was gingerly checking the dead man’s pockets.
“The bastard was a pro. He was only taking orders.” And maybe that was why Jake didn’t harbor any guilt for killing the man. He felt as if he’d stopped a robot, a machine aimed at hurting Mary.
Wes turned his head to look up at Jake. “Orders from whom?”
“Exactly. But it’s not my investigation. Not anymore.”
“Yeah?” Wes’s eyes narrowed and he went back to checking the unsub’s body. “Well, I’ve got two more dead bodies on my hands. I know the Bureau will want to investigate the death of one of their own, but I don’t much like the idea of having a murder spree in my town. Especially not one involving the murder of a friend.”
Wes pulled a few tiny slips of paper from the dead man’s pants pocket. “What have we here?” He removed his flashlight from its place at his belt and studied the papers in brighter lighting.
After a moment Wes said, “It looks like part of an execution order—on you. Written by hand on some pretty fancy-looking stationary.” Wes tried to piece together two of the tiny scraps of paper. “But why would anyone keep incriminating evidence like this on their person?”
Jake shrugged. “Insurance, maybe. You know, in case he was caught and needed to make a deal.”
“Maybe. But the signature is missing. Almost everything needed to identify the writer is missing, actually.”
“Have SAC Benton’s team do a full forensic workup and then copy you the results.”
Wes nodded, but folded the smallest scrap of paper and placed it in his breast pocket. “I’ll turn it over. But this expensive stationary is rather rare for our part of the country. I have an idea or two that need following up.”
Jake nodded, too. He understood taking tiny shortcuts in order to stay a step ahead of an investigation. And in this case, nothing major would be lost by the sheriff holding on to a nonessential part of the evidence.
Jake didn’t consider falling in love a shortcut—not exactly. But everything major in his world had been lost due to his stepping away from procedure. And the idea was killing him.
“I’m going over to talk to Mary.” Jake turned, started to walk away from Wes but twisted around to add, “Can one of your guys bring me a pair of boots from upstairs?”
Wes nodded and Jake kept walking. It felt as if he was marching straight into the depths of hell—to the one thing he had been dreading the most.
But it had to be done. His investigation had put Mary in danger and she needed to accept close personal protection from now on, with or without him around, and it was up to Jake to see that she understood why.
“But I don’t understand what happened here.” Mary could hear her tone of voice rising a couple of octaves but it was beyond her to stop. “No one will tell me anything. Who was that man and why did he try to kill us?”
Her hands had stopped shaking, but her head was starting to pound. Still, she refused to leave or lie down or take any medication until she talked to Jake.
Jake turned to Melissa, who had finished dabbing antiseptic to the cuts on his hands and face. “Can you give us a
few moments?” he asked her.
“Sure. I’ll go notify the Bozeman hospital we’re coming in.” She turned to study Mary for a second. “Be back in a few.”
Jake stood, leaving Mary the only one still sitting on the back of the paramedic’s truck. He watched Melissa walk away, then he turned to Mary and took her by the hand.
“This is all my fault. But I…but I…” He hung his head and dropped her hand.
“Jake, what is it? Why would any of this be your fault? You saved us.” It was then she noticed the blood spattered all over his clothing. Suddenly chilled, she rubbed up and down her arms trying to find warmth.
He looked her straight in the eye and stopped hedging. “I’ve been lying to you. Right from the start. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you what was going on—who I really am—long ago. But I knew if I did you wouldn’t…you would…”
“Lying?” The word filled her mind with the terrible images that she had thought she’d conquered. “About what? About being in love with me? About being married?” She wasn’t sure she could stand to hear what he had to say.
Her forehead broke out in a cold sweat.
“I do love you.” The plea in his voice for her to understand almost cut through the pain in her heart. Almost.
“But that’s about the only thing that wasn’t a lie. I’m an undercover agent for the FBI, Mary. My partner and I have been working a covert operation on a Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations case. We’re here trying to open up an international money-laundering scheme—originating in Honey Creek.”
“What?” Confused, Mary put a hand to her temple, wanting to make the throbbing in her head subside. “You’re not in real estate?”
He kept his eyes trained on her face, watching her closely. “I’m an FBI special agent. My partner Jim…” Jake’s face blanched when he mentioned his partner’s name.
Sudden images of the two men lying on the ground, bloody and not breathing, caused Mary’s stomach to roll. Oh, God, she was going to be sick.
“Jim is the man you found. The dead man you tripped over.” Jake’s eyes closed for an instant before he began again. “It all started when your father contacted one of our foreign offices while he was in Costa Rica. He wanted to…”
“My father? Costa Rica? What on earth are you saying?”
Mary felt light-headed. And cold. She wanted to lie down. She wanted to run away and hide. Hide from the death. Hide from the blood. Hide from the truth.
None of this conversation made sense and the only subjects that interested her right now were how Jake was handling the shooting and what he wanted to say. But she could feel him pulling away from her.
Was her connection with Jake going to be yet one more thing her father had destroyed in her life?
Chapter 14
“It’s a long story and I don’t have time right now to tell you everything.” Jake’s face took on a slightly green cast as if he felt sick, too. “Only that your father had been living in Costa Rica. But he wanted to come back to the States. He contacted the U.S. State Department who put him in touch with the Bureau, and they made him a deal.”
Jake stopped speaking for a moment and picked up her hands. “You’re cold.” His eyes were full of concern…and something else she couldn’t name.
But concern wasn’t what she wanted from him. She pulled away and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m okay. Go on.”
“Mark Walsh was supposed to provide us with the details of an international money-laundering operation, on the condition that the State Department would allow him back into the country and grant him immunity from prosecution.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re here because you were supposed to get information from my father?” Mary’s head whirled in a state of confusion. This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear.
Jake blinked, reaching for her again. Then he suddenly dropped his hands back to his sides. “I was supposed to interview him here in Honey Creek and follow up on his information. His body was found the day before our meeting was to take place.”
Mary wrapped her arms around her waist, growing colder. “Okay. Okay. You were undercover. But…” She looked up at his beloved face. “Why me? Why did you make…friends…with me? To get information? But I don’t know anything. I didn’t even know my father was still alive.”
The ache in her chest was becoming much worse than the ache in her head. She rubbed over it with one palm.
Jake’s face contorted, as though he, too, felt great pain. “I needed an intro to the community. Someone who was familiar with the Walsh family and could get me inside. That was you.”
Oh, God. Mary wanted to run, but Jake was standing close. Too close. She couldn’t breathe.
“Then everything you said—all the things you told me were lies?”
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice hoarse and breathless. “The stories about my past were true—most of them. I wanted to tell you the rest. The complete truth. But when I realized you weren’t involved in anything illegal, it was too late. By then I knew you would never tolerate a liar.”
In a much quieter voice, Jake added, “And by then I didn’t want to lose you. I was already in too deep.”
Sudden, intense anger snapped up and out of her mouth without warning. “You bastard! You used me. I almost died a couple of times and I would’ve never known why.”
“I planned on telling you. First thing in the morning. Remember that I had something to say?”
“You were planning on telling me…about this? About your mission?” A red rage blinded her, making her say things before she thought them through. “I hate you. Go away.”
“There’s something else we have to discuss first. I need a few more minutes.”
She jumped up, raised her arm and smacked him hard across the cheek. Damn. Mary had never hit anyone before in her life and the minute she had, she felt completely devastated.
Jake never flinched. He just stood there looking as though he deserved everything she could do to him.
Pulling the yellowed newspaper clipping from her pocket, she confronted him with it—swiping it under his nose. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Not unless it’s about your dead wife. You remember, the one you never had?”
“You found that. You went snooping in my wallet?” Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I shouldn’t have been carrying that clipping. It was my first breach of protocol. I have never done anything this dangerous to the mission before in my entire career.”
Mary threw it at him and turned away. “Never mind. I won’t believe anything you have to say, anyway. You’re worse than my father ever was.”
“Wait.” Jake put a hand on her shoulder, his touch so light and gentle it nearly brought her to tears.
She stopped, but had to wage a battle with herself not to turn into his arms.
“Mary, you may hate me. I don’t blame you. But I didn’t lie about loving you. Never doubt that. You are a very special woman. After my wife died, I was positive there couldn’t be anyone else for me. Not ever.
“But then I met you and everything changed. You touched me. Worked your way into my heart without me noticing until it was too late. Now I would gladly give up everything—my job and my whole life—for your sake. I would take a bullet for you without giving it a second thought.”
Mary heard the tremor in his voice but refused to turn around.
“But I know you won’t let me give you what you need most right now. You need protection, my love, twenty-four seven. Whoever hired our stalker may try again. Wes and the Bureau will do everything in their power to get the word out that you don’t know anything. That there’s no reason to come after you. But still…”
She turned and lifted her chin. “I don’t need anything.”
“Yes, I’m afraid you do. You need a guard. At least for a while. And the Bureau will insist you take their help.”
“But not help from you.” She wanted him gone. Out of her sight. She
had to be alone to scream and cry out her pain.
“Not if you don’t want me.”
“I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you and I don’t believe anything you have to say.”
Tears threatened to leak from the corners of her eyes and make a liar out of her. She bit her tongue to force them back inside. “Just leave me alone, Jake. I’m done. I’ve had all the lies from you I can stand.
“I thought I knew you,” she added sadly. “But I was wrong. You are exactly like my father. The world’s biggest liar. I never want to see you again. Stay away from me.”
As dawn broke over Honey Creek, the lavender dew covered both sidewalks and pines. Jake was impervious to the beauty around him while he sat quietly on the front steps of the rental house. Resting his chin on his fists, he waited for his boss to finish up on the SAT phone.
An image of Mary, looking fragile and broken as he’d trampled her dreams, kept intruding upon his thoughts. She hadn’t been aware of his pain, but every word she’d uttered in response to his truths would forever be engraved in his memory. Each syllable, each dagger of her rage, had sliced him into raw pieces, until at the end of her tirade, he was sure the jigsaw puzzle that used to be Jake Pierson would never be solved again.
He’d been concerned about her going into shock. She’d exhibited all the signs. Seeing a man shot right in front of her eyes and almost dying herself must have affected her more deeply than she’d let on. So he had let her rant.
He’d deserved her rage. He deserved much worse. If he could take back everything that had happened between them he would—except for falling in love with her. Loving her was the only spark of decent behavior he had exhibited through his entire mission.
He was grateful to Melissa for taking Mary to the Bozeman hospital several hours ago. Wes had just received word that, though she was not in immediate danger, the doctors wanted to keep Mary there under observation until tomorrow.
Not a bad thing. Mary would be safe in Bozeman. Wes said he would leave men to guard her while she was in the hospital.