“How fortuitous then that the book I’m currently working on revolves around the impact such a crime has on a small community.”
Drew’s grin widened into a smile. “I thought so, too. Isabelle Parker would make an excellent interview subject. She’s older than Parker by several years and has been on the beat forever. A request from you to meet wouldn’t be unusual.”
Kit shook her head and smiled. “I’ll do some research on her and have my publicist contact her tomorrow. Provided she’ll be in town, I can fly through London and spend a few days there before heading to Rome for Marco Baresi’s party.”
Marco was a fellow writer and her mentor. He was also, at one point, years ago, something more. Marco had recently received a very prestigious European book award and his publisher was throwing him a huge party to celebrate. Of course, she would be there. When Drew had found out, he’d asked her to contact Ambrose while in town. And now, it would seem she was adding Isabelle Parker to her list, as well.
She looked down at her purse and contemplated the two business cards inside. One was Drew doing his job. But the other, well, thinking of it gave her pause. She wasn’t about to back out, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t concerned.
“Drew? Are you sure?” she asked, bringing her gaze up to his.
She knew he saw the seriousness of her question and her concern for him. His expression softened even as a world-weary look stole across his face.
He nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. He’s a good agent and I’ve known him for years. When I heard what was happening, I knew it wasn’t him. And when I found the information that could prove it, well, that just made it all that much more clear in my mind. But,” he said, taking a deep breath and then letting it out, “as much as I hate to admit it, I can see why we don’t want to share what we have with our counterparts in England. I even agree with the decision.”
“But?”
“But Parker will know what to do with it. I trust him not to share it, but to use it to clear his name.”
“That’s a lot of trust to put in someone, Drew,” she pointed out.
He gave her a wry smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? Since spooks aren’t supposed to trust anyone with anything, yet I’m entrusting him with information that could not only pose a threat to the US but also get me fired and likely imprisoned, too.”
Kit studied him for a moment and saw the resolve in his eyes. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not sure of the wisdom of your decision either, but I do trust you.” She took the last sip of her beer and looked around the room. It was sometimes surreal meeting with Drew, knowing the shady world he operated in, then looking around and seeing couples laughing, families dining together, and the world going on.
“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked, bringing her attention back to her companion.
Drew finished his drink and set the glass back down on the table. He didn’t look up as he answered, but kept his focus on his fingers as they caught the moisture gathered on his glass. “I’m not going to lie and say this meeting with Parker is like all the others, because it isn’t. I haven’t heard anything that would indicate that there could be problems, but just be safe, Kit. Be aware of what’s going on around you. You have good instincts; use them. If something doesn’t feel right, trust that feeling.”
Kit frowned. Drew had given her this same speech any number of times when she’d first started shuttling information for him. But he hadn’t given it in years. That he felt the need to now shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but for some reason, it did.
It made her want to ask, yet again, if he was sure he wanted to go forward with his plan. But remembering the look of certainty in his eyes the first time she’d asked, she knew she already had her answer. And so she nodded in response to his warning.
“Always,” she said.
His eyes watched hers for a moment then traveled down to her empty beer glass. “Shall we?” he asked, nodding toward the door, ending the meeting.
“You go on ahead,” she said, suddenly feeling like she wanted a little time alone with a glass of whiskey. Drew frowned. She smiled. “Really, Drew, please. I know you have to drive back to New York City tonight, so go on ahead. I’m just going to have another drink, enjoy this view,” she said with a gesture toward the picture window, “and then head home.”
“You sure?” he said, concern still lacing his tone.
“Yes, I’m sure. Go. Drive safe. The roads are cleared from the snow last night, but they get icy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Drew said, rising with a smile of his own and donning his black cashmere scarf and coat. “I know, the Taconic Parkway winds a lot and ice builds up and people don’t drive safe.” He mimicked what she told him nearly every time he visited in the winter months.
“Just call me ‘mom,’” she said with a laugh as he pulled on his leather gloves.
Drew rolled his eyes, then bent down and kissed her cheek. “You’re almost decade younger than me, but you do give my mom a run for her money in the worry department.”
“Just be safe,” Kit said, grabbing his scarf and stopping him from straightening away. He might joke, but she meant every word and wanted to make sure he knew it. His face was a few inches away from hers and it occurred to her that the position was an intimate one. Though it had never been like that between the two of them, she knew that if anyone she knew saw them, gossip would ensue—the joys of a small town.
“Be safe,” Kit repeated, quietly.
Drew’s eyes held hers for a moment, then he gave a tiny nod. “You, too,” he said then dipped his head and gave her one more kiss on the cheek. Reluctantly, she released him and watched him walk out the door.
Through the window, she saw him climb into his silver Mercedes SUV and back out of the plowed parking lot. She glanced down at her purse again, hoped like hell Drew knew what he was doing, then ordered a shot of whiskey.
***
It was just after ten when Kit finally made her way to her car. Consisting of a post office, a general store, and Anderson’s, the restaurant she’d just come out of, Old Windsor was never a very happening spot. It was even quieter on this cold, Sunday evening.
Her boots crunched the snow as she crossed the street toward her car. Kit loved the winter, but in temperatures hovering around zero this time of night, she was glad for her gloves, hat, and scarf, not to mention her long down coat that nearly reached the top of her boots. A small gust of wind blew and the frigid air snaked under her scarf and down her neck. She hunched her shoulders in protection as she reached into her pocket for her keys.
Concentrating on where she was putting her feet. Kit was startled to hear the sound of a car door opening. Her head shot up and her step faltered. Parked next to her own vehicle was a black Range Rover. She knew a lot of people who drove Range Rovers, especially this time of year, but only one who would show up like this. Despite the cold, she paused about ten feet from her destination and watched as a jacketed figure unfolded itself from the ominous-looking car.
“Kit,” her brother said.
“Caleb,” she responded. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her brother in five months. Almost enough time to believe he wasn’t a part of her life. Almost enough time to accept that she was fine on her own, that she was fine with having no family.
“We need to talk,” he said. Kit didn’t respond for a moment. She and her brother didn’t talk. They never talked. Not anymore. There had been a time in their lives when that hadn’t been the case. There had been a time when she’d idolized her older brother, when he’d looked out for her, when they’d gone fishing together, and when she had believed that he had the answers for everything.
But that time had long ago passed and they hadn’t been in each other’s presence for more than a few days a year for over a decade. Kit started to speak but stopped short when a second figure emerged from the passenger side of Caleb’s car.
She was glad her face was hidden in the shadows of her hat and scarf as Garret
Cantona, her brother’s right-hand man, straightened to his full height. Kit was tall, easily five foot ten, but Garret’s six-foot-three form dwarfed hers. Like Caleb, he wore jeans and work boots, but rather than a jacket, Garret sported a black sweater and a gray beanie hat. She knew the hat covered light-brown hair that, if it got too long, curled in ways that bothered him. And she felt, more than saw, his light-blue eyes—eyes rimmed with thick, black lashes—studying her.
“And I see you brought your Mini Me,” she added, forcing her gaze from Garret back to her brother in time to see a look of irritation flicker across his face.
“Kit,” Caleb warned.
She let out a little breath of annoyance. It was too cold to be having this conversation now. “I’m going home. If you’d like to follow me, feel free. You know I have enough room for you. If you don’t want to stay with me, there are dozens of bed and breakfasts around. I don’t care either way, but I’m too cold to be standing out here right now.” She almost added that they could feel free to camp on her property, too, since that was exactly what Garret had been doing when she’d first met him. Her brother had been in town helping a friend of hers and had brought Garret along. Why her brother hadn’t had him stay in the house with them was a mystery to her. She’d discovered Garret camping on the back edge of her eighty acres—close enough to a road to be easily accessible, but far enough away from everything to be seen.
“Cantona will go with you,” Caleb all but ordered. Kit laughed.
“I don’t think so, Caleb. You can meet me there.” Both cars had been backed into their spots and Kit had to pass Garret as she made her way to her driver’s side door. Keeping an eye mostly on the icy path, she glanced up at her brother’s companion as she drew alongside him. His eyes were trained on hers but she could read nothing in his expression. She wished it were the same for him—that he would find her expression as neutral as she found his—but she wasn’t as good at this game as either of the two men who stood with her. Still, he stepped back and let her pass.
Unlocking her door, she slid onto the leather seat and shivered as her cold jeans pressed against the backs of her legs. She reached for the door but Garret was already there, closing it. And for a moment, for a very brief second, she thought she saw a question in his eyes. But then the door shut.
“Go with her,” Kit heard Caleb say as she fumbled with her key in her gloved hands.
“No,” she heard Garret respond. “It’s not as though she’s going to run, Forrester. You just dropped in on her after five months of no contact. Give her space,” he added.
Kit heard Caleb start to respond but whatever he was saying was lost as her engine roared to life. She pulled out onto the road and turned west toward home. Through her rearview mirror, she saw both men climb back into Caleb’s Range Rover. She wasn’t sure what to feel when their headlights appeared through her back window.
Not wanting to think about the sudden appearance of both Caleb and Garret, Kit turned her mind to her meeting with Drew. She wasn’t going to back out, but the more she thought about it, the more anxious she became—for Drew, not herself. She didn’t know the half of what he did in his job, but she knew he was committed to it, almost too much so. She also knew he wasn’t married, and from what she could tell—from her conversations with him and with their mutual friend Dani Williamson, now Dani Fuller—he’d never even had a relationship that lasted more than a month or so.
If the MI6 agent, Parker, was playing him, Drew could lose everything—everything he loved, everything he had worked so hard for, would disappear. The thought made her stomach turn. Drew was one of the good guys and he deserved some happiness in his life—in whatever form that came.
Kit made a promise to herself to do what she could to help Drew and was already mentally planning the adjustments she would need to make to her schedule in order to accommodate his request as she pulled onto her long driveway. In the distance, she could see the top of her home. That sight, and the drive from the road to her abode, always brought her a sense of calm.
That sense of peace was why she lived in the Hudson Valley. She was young, not yet thirty-two, and had a career that kept her in the public eye to a certain extent, and over the years more than one person had asked her why she chose to live alone in such a small, rural town. Ironically, since she was a writer, it was a question she couldn’t adequately answer with words—it was just this thing she felt each time she came home that drew and kept her here.
Her house came into view as she rounded a gentle curve. Unlike most houses in the area, hers was modern in design. From the driveway, it resembled the side of a staircase, with three levels climbing the hill. The lower level held a guest room, laundry room, and all those rooms that only occasionally got used, like her TV room and gym. The middle level was the main living area and kitchen, and the upper level had two more guest rooms and her massive master bedroom suite with an attached office. Every side of the house that wasn’t tucked against the hill was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows.
It was bigger than she needed just for herself. But when working with the architect, she’d been adamant that the home be designed in such a way that it would be easy to sell if she ever wanted to—which meant standard things like more bedrooms, a big, easy living area, and nothing too crazily custom. At least that’s what she’d told the architect. Although it was something she thought about less and less with each passing year, in rare moments she wondered if she’d really been hoping to fill the house with her own family. It wasn’t that she thought she was getting too old; age had nothing to do with it, she knew she was still young. But, after having lived on her own since she was seventeen, she often wondered if she might be too set in her ways to ever be able to live with someone else, let alone raise a family.
Taking a deep breath and forcing those thoughts from her head, Kit pulled around to the parking area carved into the hill at the back of the house. After parking in her garage, she didn’t bother to wait for her brother and was in her kitchen pulling off her hat and gloves when Caleb and Garret came in, each carrying a duffel bag.
Her eyebrow went up. “So, I guess you’re staying.”
“We need to talk,” Caleb repeated what he’s said earlier as he dropped his bag and stepped into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t planning on seeing you tonight, and believe it or not, I don’t actually have time to talk with you right now,” she said as she hung her coat up.
Garret had placed his bag on the floor and was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her.
“Kit.” Again, Caleb’s voice held a hint of warning.
“Look, Caleb, as Garret pointed out, you just dropped in on me. I do have a life and, in fact, I’m not even going to be here very long. I’m heading to Europe the day after tomorrow to attend a party for a dear friend of mine. Between now and then, I have a number of things I have to do, some of which I need to do tonight.” Like reschedule her flight through Heathrow so she could meet up with Isabelle Parker.
Her brother opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “The downstairs guest room you use whenever you show up is made up. You,” she said, turning to Garret, “can either sleep on the sofa down where Caleb sleeps or there are two more guest rooms upstairs. Both are made up and both have attached baths.”
“You can sleep on the sofa,” Caleb interjected. Kit let out a sardonic laugh at the order issued from her brother. At one point in their lives, hearing the protective tone in Caleb’s voice would have felt normal, would have made her feel cared for. Now it was just ridiculous. Not only were they all adults, but Caleb had long ago given up the right to be protective of her in any way.
Garret chuckled. “I don’t think so, Forrester. Between a bed and a couch,” he shook his head, “it’s a bed for me.” And to prevent any further discussion, Garret grabbed his bag and headed up the stairs. Neither she nor Caleb said anything as he left. And when they heard the door to one of the guest rooms click shut, the silence b
etween she and her brother suddenly felt heavy.
“He won’t bother you,” Caleb finally said. “We’ve worked together for years,” he added. He wouldn’t dare was left unsaid.
“I know,” Kit said. “Ian told me about Garret when he was here with you last fall helping Jesse with that mess.” She didn’t mention that she had actually met Garret. It seemed easier not to. Saying she’d heard of him from Ian MacAllister, the county sheriff and friend of hers and her brother’s, seemed reasonable.
Caleb and Garret, had come to offer their help, and considerable expertise, to Ian when Jesse, another one of Kit’s good friends, had gotten caught in the crosshairs of a woman who had stalked Jesse and nearly killed her on more than one occasion.
While Kit was grateful for the help Caleb and Garret had provided, the fact that both had upped and disappeared from Windsor before she’d even had the chance to thank them served to remind her of just why Caleb was no longer a significant part of her life. Not even when he was standing five feet in front of her in her own kitchen.
They stood for another silent moment, and with every passing second, the gulf between them seemed to open wider and wider.
“I have some things I need to do,” she said abruptly, breaking the building tension.
“We do need to talk, Kit,” Caleb said as she started to walk away.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs, tempted to just keep walking. But she didn’t. He was watching her, still standing where he’d stopped when he walked in. She and her brother didn’t have much of a relationship, but he was still her brother and he had come to help her friend Jesse when he’d been asked.
“I have some things I need to do tomorrow, but I should be free by the afternoon,” she said. She saw another look of irritation flash across his face, but it was gone almost as fast as it had come. He gave a small, sharp nod. She waited for him to pick up his bag and head downstairs. But when he didn’t, she said her good night and climbed the stairs to her own sanctuary.
***
What Echoes Render Page 39