by Mary Alford
His mouth quirked up in a grin. “I think you kind of made it my business, don’t you?”
She shot him an annoyed look, then stared straight ahead. “My husband is dead.” She confirmed the news of Eddie’s fate with those simple words.
It was a long time before Davis could bring forth a steady answer over the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult. How long?”
She swallowed visibly. “Six months. It’s been six months and I still can’t wrap my head around it. We were best friends forever. We went through most of our school years together.” Her voice caught and he could see tears in her eyes. “There are times when I still expect him to walk through the door.”
Davis understood what she was going through all too well. He felt the same way about Abby. They’d worked side by side together for more than six years. He’d loved her just as long. When he’d learned of her death he’d fallen apart. It didn’t seem possible that such a vibrant, strong woman could be gone. At times, during those lonely winter nights when the walls closed in, he let himself think about the future they might have had. An impossible dream now.
“You know, I was so grateful you stopped to help that I completely forgot to ask your name,” Reyna said.
His breath stuck in his throat, his composure all but shot. For a second, he debated giving her another of his aliases, but thought better of it. “It’s Davis,” he said, without looking at her.
“Davis what?” she prodded.
His expression hardened. “Davis Sinclair,” he said at last. “Satisfied?”
“Yes. Sorry, it’s just...been a very bad day.”
Bad day? He thought it was much more than that. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why is it so important you find this Bradford guy?”
She took her time answering. Something in her beautiful, fragile countenance tore at his heart. It made him want to protect her. In spite of that, he killed the remnant of emotion before it could take hold. He couldn’t go there. He’d do what he could to help her for Eddie’s sake.
And then he’d move on.
“Eddie told me if I was ever...if I ever needed help, I could trust Jase Bradford.”
Had she been about to say if she was ever in danger? Was someone threatening Reyna because of her relationship to Eddie?
His hands tightened on the wheel. “And what if you don’t locate this guy? What then?”
The sheer desperation on her face confirmed failure wasn’t an option.
“What did your husband tell you about this man? Do you even know what he looks like?” Davis added brusquely when she didn’t answer. He was on a fishing expedition of his own. He wanted to know what Eddie had told her about him. She obviously knew where to find him.
He steeled himself when she shot him another piercing glance. Did she know what he looked like? No way. He’d changed his appearance dramatically. Let his hair grow. Years of working outdoors had lightened his dirty-blond hair somewhat. He’d even managed to grow a beard. He’d traded his fatigues for plaids and jeans. The only part of his previous uniform he still possessed was the Glock stashed in his pocket.
“I know Jase Bradford was born here in Defiance and at one time his family lived up this same mountain. And I have a photo.”
“A photo?” Davis’s heart lurched as he pulled the Jeep in front of the gate and stopped abruptly. There was no way she had a photo of him. In their line of work, anonymity was crucial. You couldn’t afford to have your picture floating around where it could quite possibly fall into enemy hands.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked nervously.
As desperate as he was to find out more about the photo, he didn’t want to tip his hand just yet. He needed to tread carefully.
He pointed to the locked gate in front of them. “I need to open it. I’ll be right back.”
Davis took his time. His usually tough composure had taken a beating when she mentioned a photo, and he struggled to regain his footing. His life might depend on it.
TWO
Reyna watched the man who had come to her rescue throw open the gate with enough force to send it rocking on its hinges. She glanced around at her surroundings. The isolation of the place sent up all sorts of warning signals. Had she behaved foolishly in trusting a complete stranger whose motives were unclear?
She’d been so intent in finding Jase Bradford that she hadn’t fully thought her actions through. Now all the odd behavior Eddie had displayed before he left on that final tour of duty came back to taunt her. Could her original diagnosis have been correct all along? Maybe Eddie had been suffering from PTSD, as she’d first believed, and Jase Bradford was truly dead.
But even if Eddie had been ill, that still didn’t explain why Agent Martin and his goons had shown up at her house and accused Eddie of treason. She’d known the moment they barged in that something was terribly wrong, and so she’d run.
Reyna had done her best to cover her tracks. She hadn’t taken a direct route to Defiance, but had made several deliberate stops along the way, including the one to the storage facility in Eldorado. All designed to throw off a possible tail. She was almost positive no one had followed her. Almost.
Still, as the miles had disappeared behind her, the terror and paranoia had grown. Lack of sleep had a way playing on a person’s uncertainties. She couldn’t give in to them. The first thing she’d done when she arrived in Defiance was to call her friend Sara with the disposable phone she’d purchased along the way. Sara had been worried sick when Reyna showed up at her back door and asked to borrow her car. She had begged Reyna to tell her what was happening, but Reyna knew it was best she didn’t know about the threat. She hadn’t told Sara about the letter containing the location of the storage facility, either. She had put her friend’s life in enough jeopardy simply by association.
Now she wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake by not taking Sara up on her offer to help. She’d simply run off on her own and ended up in the middle of nowhere with a man she knew nothing about. He could be a serial killer. Or worse. Working for the same thugs who she believed had killed Eddie and threatened her.
Reyna braced herself as Davis headed back to the Jeep...and then she saw it. She leaned forward in her seat in amazement. He had a limp! She hadn’t noticed it before, but then she’d just gone through a traumatic experience. Now that she thought about it, she vividly recalled the days following Eddie’s return stateside after the attack on the team. Eddie had been in shock. He’d told her that with the exception of Jase, Kyle and himself, the entire team had died. Eddie believed it was a deliberate attack on the unit that had nothing to do with the mission they were on.
Her husband told her Jase’s injuries were extensive. A bullet had shattered his right leg. Another one had punctured his lung. He’d been flown to a military hospital near DC. She and Eddie had received news from Kyle of Jase’s passing a few days later. Yet, even after they attended the memorial service at Langley, Reyna could tell Eddie didn’t believe his friend was dead. In the weeks prior to Eddie’s own death, he’d insisted Jase had had no choice but to fake his death.
If Jase had survived, as Eddie believed, then he definitely would have a limp. Reyna dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out the photo she’d hidden there. It showed all the Scorpion team members. The man she knew to be Jase Bradford was slightly younger in the photo and clean shaven. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. It certainly was plausible that Davis Sinclair could be Jase Bradford.
She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to feel. If Bradford was alive, then everything else Eddie told her must be the truth. The thought alone was chilling.
Reyna quickly tucked the photo away before Davis got into the Jeep and turned to her. His gaze narrowed as he watched her try to recover from the incredible shock of learning the person seated next to her might quite possibly be a dead man.
“Anything wrong?” he asked.
She pulled in a shaky breath, her survival instinct
s cautioning her to watch what she said. “No, I’m fine.”
He accepted her answer with a curt nod and put the vehicle in gear.
Once he’d relocked the gate, he drove past snow-covered trees lining both sides of the drive. They rounded a ninety-degree curve and the house appeared before them. The hair on her arms stood to attention and she shivered. Nothing about the place was inviting.
“This is it,” he said as he eased the car to a stop. “Hang on just a second, I’ll come around and help you. There’s ice everywhere.” He shoved his door open and got out. The noise stretched her raw nerves closer to the breaking point.
Swallowing hard, Reyna watched as the man who claimed to be Davis Sinclair circled the front of the Jeep. The limp was much more noticeable this time, maybe because she was paying closer attention.
He yanked open her door and she shrank away from him. He lifted a brow at her reaction.
“Ready?” he said as he leaned in to give her a hand. Reyna’s breath stuck in her throat, her heart drumming a mile a minute. She blamed it on the fact she’d been living in fear and the near-death experience—anything but the handsome, mysterious man by her side.
Their eyes met and her chest tightened. He was so close. She could see every line etched around his eyes, the deep grooves framing his full lips that spoke of someone who had chosen to live a life of solitude for a reason.
She had to get a grip. If this was indeed Jase Bradford, then she needed his help. But first she had to find out what he was hiding other than his true identity.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Her voice sounded as if she’d run a marathon, and her hands shook. She sucked in her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t break.
His attention shifted to her lips, his own breathing labored. She took his proffered hand and got out. After what felt like a lifetime of seconds ticking by in perfect cadence with her heart, he moved away and she was able to relax.
“Let’s get you inside. Watch your step. The porch is slippery.” Reyna slowly followed him. She kept the bag containing the storage locker key close. The contents of that locker might just be the one thing that would keep her alive if those thugs found her. Agent Martin’s threats had solidified things in her mind. Eddie’s death was no accident.
As they neared the house, motion-sensor lights flashed on, illuminating the front of the place. The man calling himself Davis Sinclair lived as if he was expecting danger to show up at his door any moment.
The house was three stories and enormous in stature. Made entirely of full round logs, it looked as if it could withstand quite a few Colorado winters. She noticed surveillance cameras positioned to capture every possible angle of the house. Massive amounts of firewood were stockpiled along both sides of the porch. The place looked like a compound and about as impenetrable as the White House.
A trickle of unease ran through her and she uttered a silent prayer asking for God’s reassurance that she was doing the right thing. With everything she had gone through, she couldn’t let down her guard for a second. She was at the mercy of a man with secrets and could be walking into a trap.
Her boots slipped on the porch and he reached out to steady her. His large, muscular arms circled her waist and drew her close. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Just for a second she stilled. She was so tired and he was so strong. If she inched in just a little bit, she could lean in to his strength.
Reyna pulled away and gave herself a mental shake. His arms dropped to his side. No matter how desperate she felt or how much she might want to trust him, her life was at stake. He unlocked the house and stepped inside, yet Reyna hesitated. She stood in the entrance, surrounded by darkness, the only light coming from a dying fire in the fireplace. She wouldn’t go inside until she knew what she was facing in there.
He seemed to read all her uncertainties, because he flipped on the overhead light, illuminating the room. No one waited inside to take her into custody. There was nothing scary or out of the ordinary. Just the evidence of a house occupied by one person.
Reyna slowly stepped in and closed the door. He stopped by the fireplace but stood quietly watching her, as if trying to gauge her threat level. Neither one trusted the other just yet.
She glanced around. Reyna had to admit, the room itself was impressive. The ceiling vaulted up to what looked like at least fourteen feet above them. A massive stacked-stone fireplace was the showpiece of the room. Windows facing out toward the drive would enable him to see for miles. No one was coming up to the house unannounced. None of which eased her fears one little bit. Who was he expecting to come after him?
Reyna stole a glance his way. He was still sizing her up. The overhead antler chandelier bathed the room in soft light and she was able to get her first good look at the man she believed to be Jase Bradford. He was incredibly tall and powerfully built, his collar-length blond hair swept back from his face, and he sported a neatly trimmed beard slightly darker than his hair. He was rugged in an outdoorsy, mountain-man way and had the most intense midnight-blue eyes she’d ever seen.
“There are a couple of bedrooms upstairs. You can take your pick. Sheets are clean and there’s a spare bath at the end of the hall. Towels are in the linen closet.”
Reyna didn’t budge. If he was really and truly the man she believed him to be, she needed answers as to why he’d lied to her. He might just have saved her life, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.
“You asked me why I was out on the road tonight and I told you, but what about you? You said yourself the weather was terrible. It had obviously been snowing for hours. Why risk running off the road as I did or get stranded out there alone?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in what passed for a smile. “I’m not the enemy here, Reyna.” Chills sped up her spine at his gravelly tone.
She lifted her chin. “And that’s not really an answer. Stop playing games with me. I know you’re lying about who you are.”
His body grew rigid in response, but he didn’t say anything.
“When Eddie first told me he didn’t believe you were dead, I thought maybe he was suffering from PTSD or something similar. He certainly showed all the classic symptoms. Still, the obvious reason not to believe was that both Eddie and I were at the memorial ceremony for you.”
She stared straight at him. “During those last few days before Eddie returned to duty, he kept insisting you faked your death because someone was trying to wipe out all the original members of the Scorpion team. He told me if anything happened to him and someone came to the house asking questions I should find you. Then I come here and I find someone who looks similar to Jase Bradford, who has the same limp as Eddie’s description of your injuries indicated, and suddenly I’m starting to believe that my husband was right all along.”
She waited for him to deny it. He didn’t, and her heart dropped to her stomach. A single muscle flexing in his jaw was his only reaction, a telltale sign that what she said made him uncomfortable.
After a handful of seconds ticked by. He turned away, gathered a couple of pieces of wood stacked next to the fireplace and then tossed them angrily onto the fire.
It was then that she saw it. The last piece of the puzzle that confirmed the truth. He had a scorpion tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. Eddie possessed the same tattoo. He’d told her the entire team had them. It was sort of a rite of passage. There would be only one reason this man would have it. He was the leader of the CIA’s Scorpion team.
Shivers racked through her, rendering her breathless.
She was right. This was Jase Bradford.
* * *
Reyna looked as if she’d suffered a terrible shock. She had turned deathly pale and was staring at his wrist. She’d seen the tattoo. He regretted again his foolishness in keeping it.
While he tried to come up with a plausible denial, she dug into her pocket, pulled out a photo and held it out for him to see.
He never broke eye contact. “What’s that?” he hed
ged.
“You tell me,” she said, and shoved it closer into his line of sight.
He took it from her. It was a grainy photo taken a short time before the attack. He remembered the day they’d posed for it as if it was yesterday. His arm rested around Abby’s waist. Eddie was standing next to Jase. Charlie, Brady and Steve Douglas in the background. The picture had been taken on Eddie’s phone by the fifth member of their team. Their Afghanistan guide, Benjahah.
He stared at the phantoms in the photo. They had been invincible back then. They’d liberated a small village from a Taliban stronghold that day, each member of the team so full of life and promise. It was only Eddie’s second mission with the team, yet already he’d become like one of the gang. Now they were all dead with the exception of him.
He glanced from the photo to Reyna. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it inside Eddie’s laptop bag. It’s true. Don’t deny it. You are the person in that photo. You are Jase Bradford. I wasn’t completely sure until I saw the tattoo.” She grabbed his wrist and turned it up for them both to see.
He closed his eyes. Over the past three years, he’d thought about having it removed over a dozen times. But in the end, he’d kept the scorpion tattoo as a constant reminder of the woman he’d loved and the friends who had lost their lives instead of him.
“Eddie had one just like it. He told me everyone on the team got the same tattoo. It was like some sort of bond between you all. He was so excited to get his. So proud to join the elite Scorpions. So honored to work with you.”
He couldn’t move. Her words were like a knife to his heart. He didn’t pull away, couldn’t deny the truth.
Reyna let him go and went for the kill. “Why’d you lie to me and say you didn’t know Jase Bradford after I told you I was Eddie’s wife? You knew he was dead. I wouldn’t be here without good reason. You saw how terrified I was and you lied to me. Answer me...please,” she said desperately. “You owe me.”
His breath hung in his throat as he gazed down at her.