by Vicki Hinze
He was right. The issue was her trusting him, and now he stood genuinely worried. She hated that. “I realize you disagree with me on all of this. You have doubts. But I don’t, and if they get away with killing two people, what’s to stop them from killing four, or forty-four?” She set down her mug. “No. No, I can’t worry about the risks. I have to do the right thing.”
“Hardheaded, stubborn—” His voice faded into a grumble.
She pretended to be deaf as a stone. Deeply worried and afraid for her, he needed to vent, and she needed a minute to get her insides to stop shaking. Busying herself, she refocused, refilling her mug at the coffeepot, then returned to the table. “The bottom line is that if Talbot or Dayton are behind the murders, they won’t risk their futures on Crawford getting a whim and withdrawing his confessions. He could recant at any time. They’re going to silence him because neither of them can afford not to—personally or as Nest commanders.”
“Even if Crawford recanted, no one would believe him.”
“No, but in the commanders’ elevated positions—their promotions will come quickly now, right?” When Grant nodded, Madison finished. “They won’t risk a blemish on their records, and they know that politically a Crawford confession would become a public issue under microscopic scrutiny in the media.”
“That much is true.”
“They’ll prevent that.” If she were right, Crawford’s days were numbered. “There’s another nugget that is even more compelling.”
“What?”
Madison leaned forward and dropped her voice. “If Crawford recants, the uproar about David Pace and Beth Crane will pass. But another uproar won’t, and it’ll have heads rolling at the highest levels.”
The color leaked from Grant’s face. “No. No way. Neither Talbot nor Dayton will go public. They wouldn’t jeopardize national security for media ratings or political points. That is what you’re saying, right?”
“Under the right conditions, they would.”
“What right conditions? It’d be political suicide.”
“Not if they leaked every single crumb on the Nest under the protection of a congressional hearing. They’d claim they had no choice but to disclose, Congress would back them on that, and the focus would definitely shift away from them, Crawford and the murders and land squarely on the Nest.”
Grant’s hand on his mug shook, and his eyes narrowed. “The need-to-know loop would never allow that testimony to take place.”
“Which is why I think they’ll get rid of Crawford before he can recant his confessions.” She rubbed at a dull throb in her temple. “Once he does, then neither Talbot and Dayton nor anyone else in the loop can stonewall Congress indefinitely. For a while, yes, but then something will give. It always does.”
Grant paused a moment, clearly thinking. “We know from working there that the need-to-know loop will keep word of the Nest sequestered by any necessary means.”
Madison agreed. “Yes.” Like the others, she’d had restricted access to the Nest, allowed only in her specific area. She was as clueless as everyone else about what was at the Nest and why the facility existed at all, but the secrecy of the facility was made clear to everyone who knew about it. “These deductions have left me with another question. I can’t answer it, but maybe you can.”
He smoothed a thumb over her shirtsleeve at her wrist, his expression guarded. “What question?”
“Why?” Madison looked him right in the eye. “What is so important about that facility that they could be killing people to keep it a secret?”
TWO
Mrs. Renault appeared at Madison’s office door. “You’re back.”
Madison nodded, biting her tongue about Mrs. Renault dropping Grant off out at the Nest last night. “Is it time for the morning report?”
Tall and lithe, the fiftyish Mrs. Renault entered, wearing a slim skirt and fitted top. Her taupe heels clicked softly on the hardwood floor. “I thought with the Valentine’s ball tonight at the club, you’d be home resting.”
“No, I’ve been having a heated discussion with Grant.”
“And you’re not happy with me for taking him out there.”
“Actually, no, I’m not.”
“Fine.” She pulled out her pad and poised her pen.
“That’s all the explanation I get?” Madison fingered her Purple Heart, rolled it over in her palm.
“You were in danger. You needed backup.”
Madison resisted the urge to raise her voice. “I don’t trust him.”
“You have trust issues with everyone but me,” Mrs. Renault said, decidedly calm.
“After last night, I think I should be on the fence about you, too.”
If that comment ruffled her, Mrs. Renault didn’t show it. “Well, I trust Grant.”
Madison envied her that. She was coming to care for this man. She yearned to trust him. But she just didn’t dare. Still, curiosity got the better of her. “Why?” Mrs. Renault’s instincts were usually flawless, but the woman knew he’d been reporting agency activities to Talbot and Dayton.
“If Grant had reported anything negative on us, we’d all have been hauled in for questioning. We haven’t been. My guess is Grant has done nothing more than tell the commander we’ve been working internally to assure no one here breached security by telling the reporters anything about the Nest. He’s probably been instrumental in keeping heat off the entire agency.”
Madison hadn’t considered that possibility.
“You must remember, Madison, Grant is in a delicate position. He’s subject to recall for two years after the date he officially came off active duty. He can’t refuse to report, though I imagine feeling about you as he does, he wishes he could.”
Didn’t she wish she knew how he felt about her? Wouldn’t it be a gift to be sure? “I know he can’t refuse them.” She’d gone through that two-year period herself.
“So he’s done his duty. No more and no less.”
“And I shouldn’t fault him for it.”
“He took an oath, as did you.” Mrs. Renault looked over, and gave her the infamous Renault lift of the brow. “Would you respect a man who made an oath and didn’t keep it?”
“No.” She wouldn’t, but didn’t have to like admitting it. Grant’s position wasn’t lost on her. He was a man torn between the dictates of his faith and his country. And if her wishes and Mrs. Renault’s instincts were right, he was also torn between faith, country and her: a woman he cared about. Being pulled in three different directions had to keep him up nights, but she was up nights, too. She cared about him, but should she? Was caring about him putting her and her staff in jeopardy? If he was being honest with her, then no. But was he? Considering the pressure on him from all sides...she wasn’t sure. Odds were, he wasn’t sure himself. “Grant reporting shouldn’t be necessary. Talbot and Dayton know what we do here. You’d think they’d see merit in it.” Madison sipped from her mug, stared at the sun streaking in through the white sheers covering the window. “In four years, we’ve gone from zero to success by any standards. That should be enough.”
“You’re assuming they don’t see merit in our work, and you know anecdotal evidence can’t be enough to negate a hard look when anything classified is involved. The Nest is a lot more...sensitive.”
She did know, but she didn’t have to like that, either. She looked at the Purple Heart medal and spoke from her heart. “The problem is, I want to trust him.”
“You’ve developed strong feelings for him?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. How far would you go?”
“I hate it when you do that.” Madison frowned. Since her days as a POW, she was cautious with her trust. Betrayed and burned as she’d been—who wouldn’t be? “Why do you make me admi
t what I feel, especially when I don’t want to feel anything?” Madison let her see her exasperation. “I don’t want to care about him. I don’t want to trust him.”
“But you just said you do want to trust him....”
“See what I mean? He stirs things inside me and makes me so crazy I don’t even know my own mind.”
“At the risk of rattling you even more—your hands are shaking—I believe you’re making yourself crazy. He’s just being Grant, doing the best he can in an awkward situation.”
Madison groaned and kept staring at the medal. It meant so much to her, and Grant now knew it. Though she’d been sacrificed and the bond had been broken with her superiors, the bond between her and the spirit of the medal, her nation, her relationship with her family and her faith, remained intact. Grant not only had understood but also had said he felt the same way, though when faith and duty to country conflicted, it caused a lot of internal challenges. That he’d shared that revelation made another chink in the armor around her heart. “He seems honorable—as if he’s trying so hard to do the right thing all around. I know it can’t be easy, yet...” She sighed. “I feel like a horrible person for having doubts and as if anyone with sense should have doubts... This wouldn’t be nearly so hard if I didn’t...but I do.” She let Mrs. Renault see the misery in her eyes. “I...care about him.”
Sympathy reflected in Mrs. Renault’s eyes. “I can see that you do.”
In a cold sweat, Madison met Mrs. Renault’s gaze. “I think he genuinely cares about me, too.” It cost her a lot to admit that out loud.
“Uh-huh.” Mrs. Renault put her pen down atop her pad on a little table beside her chair. “Madison, are you falling in love with Grant?”
“Oh, I hope not.” She nearly wilted and a lump formed in her throat.
“Why? Do you know?”
“I’m afraid I do.” Trusting her heart had gotten her captured and taken prisoner, had changed the entire course of her life. “My heart can’t be trusted.” Madison walked over to the wall and pressed a button on the back of a landscape painting of the cove done by her friend Maggie Mason. It was the view from the club’s gazebo, less than a half mile from Madison’s office, and one of Madison’s favorite places on earth. A section of wall slid open. Madison gently placed the medal inside.
When she turned, Mrs. Renault stood waiting. “I hate to say it, but trusted or not, I’m afraid your heart will settle long before your mind.”
“Wits and wisdom, not your heart, get you through hard times.”
“Perhaps it’s all of them—your heart and wits and wisdom.” Mrs. Renault returned to her seat. “That’s what happened when I fell in love with John.” She harrumphed softly, in the refined way only she could. “Oh, how my mind rebelled against loving that man.”
“Why?” Madison couldn’t believe it. She always seemed so sure-footed on everything.
“I was a military brat, and I vowed never to fall in love with a military man. I wanted roots.”
“But you married John anyway.”
“Yes, I did. And given the chance, I would again.”
She had been happy with him, not that anyone doubted it for a second. Such a shame he died so young. “So your heart won the battle. That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it?”
“Wits and wisdom have their value but the heart always wins the battle. That’s what I’m telling you.”
That was not what she’d hoped to hear. “Maybe so, but I’m not giving up yet.”
Madison shut the vault, returned to her desk then sat down and stared at the fireplace filled not with wood but with strings of twinkling little lights. She said, “I don’t understand him. He listens but he doesn’t hear me.”
“That’s been the problem with men and relationships since there have been men and relationships.” Mrs. Renault cocked her head. “I take it that you’ve discussed this communication challenge with him?”
Madison expelled a hard breath. “I have. The problem is, this morning when he told me he couldn’t walk away from me, either, I was relieved. I was so afraid he would, I was almost sick inside.”
“Maybe it was being out in the cold all night.”
“No, it was him.” Madison fisted her hand. “The only other time I’ve been that scared is when I was captured.”
“Oh, my. Strong emotions.”
“Very strong emotions.” Madison slid her assistant a wistful look. “I keep praying they’ll fizzle and go away.”
“Because...?”
“I just told you. I don’t trust him.”
“But you want to,” Mrs. Renault reminded her, her eyes darting a long moment. “I have an idea. Why not give him a real chance? Take a leap of faith? That could ease some pressure on you and be telling.”
There was wisdom in the older woman’s suggestion. It would allow her to trust him—and with a safety net. The battle in her would cease...maybe. It would definitely ease up. That could make trying it worth a shot. She’d taken a small step, sharing her suspicions about what could come of Crawford and Talbot and Dayton’s desire to shift focus. She hadn’t even shared that with Mrs. Renault, who had a soft spot for the commander. For that reason alone, Madison prayed the man was innocent of killing Pace and Beth Crane.
“You’re going to the St. Valentine’s ball together tonight, right?”
Madison nodded.
“Well, one question to answer before you decide. Is your hesitation because you don’t trust him on the security breach, or because you don’t trust him with your heart?”
Madison didn’t dare answer—not even to herself.
Mrs. Renault clearly didn’t expect her to. She continued, “Either way, it’s a step forward. And it’s time you took one.”
Madison hadn’t dared to trust a man since escaping from Afghanistan. She’d wanted to, tried to, but she just couldn’t do it. At times she wondered if she’d ever trust a man again. Since one she’d put her trust in had been responsible for her capture, she couldn’t fault herself for that, though her pastor insisted that God wouldn’t approve of deeming all men responsible for the sins of one. She wasn’t trying to do that. It wasn’t them but her own judgment she doubted. Her pastor insisting she was not trusting God shocked her. Was he right?
Unsure, Madison looked at Mrs. Renault. She was right about one thing. If Madison didn’t try to step forward, change wouldn’t be possible. And maybe her pastor was right, too. Maybe she did need to trust God to put a worthy man in her path.
Grant’s image filled Madison’s mind—the promise of what could be. Foolish or wise, she didn’t know, but this proposal was for one night. She could leap that far, to trust and give him a real chance.
“All right,” she told Mrs. Renault. “I’ll try.”
What could it hurt?
Me. Madison swallowed hard. God, help me. I’m leaping. Please don’t let me regret it.
* * *
A brash young lieutenant with a red nose, bruised knuckles and a name tag that read Blake escorted Grant into the commander’s windowless inner sanctum.
Commander Talbot sat behind his gleaming desk. Vice Commander Dayton perched on the left of two deep blue leather visitor’s chairs. Grant saluted.
“Major Deaver.” Talbot returned the salute. “Come in.”
Not invited to sit, Grant stood at ease before the desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes.” The commander leaned back in his chair, his thinning pate catching the light from the overhead. “How are things going at Lost, Inc.?”
“They’re tense, sir.” Dayton hadn’t said a word. He looked almost bored, though Grant had been in Intel too long to be fooled by that facade. The man wasn’t missing a thing. Dressed in combat gear instead of his blues—why? Everyone Grant had come across, from the gate guards to headquarte
rs’ security, had been dressed in blues or their regular uniforms today.
“Tense?” The commander stopped rocking his chair.
“Yes, sir.” Grant debated over his approach, and decided Talbot had always been reasonable, so he’d just talk straight. “Madison McKay still doesn’t trust me.”
Dayton guffawed. “Lost your touch with the ladies, eh?”
Caustic, but Grant didn’t take it personally. Dayton had made it an art form. “She’s a former operative,” Grant said. “She knows the tactics. You either come at her from a genuine place, or you don’t get near her at all.”
Talbot rubbed at his jaw. “Madison has always had good instincts. They made her an excellent analyst and operative.”
“Working with Renée Renault has sharpened them,” Dayton said. “You can bank on that.”
“Renée is gifted.” Talbot drummed his fingers on his desktop and sighed. “Sorry we lost Madison. I hoped she’d change her mind and rejoin us after being home for a while.”
Grant had never heard such respect in Dayton’s tone as when he’d spoken of Mrs. Renault, and never had anyone other than Commander Talbot called her by her first name. No doubt her military family missed her. But the remark about Madison irked Grant. If they hadn’t sacrificed her, maybe they wouldn’t have lost her, but the bottom line was Grant didn’t want to repeat the mistake and lose her, and the longer this deception went on, the greater the odds were that he would.
Determined to try to do something about that, he shifted the conversation to a place he was more than eager to go. “Crawford accepted responsibility for the security breach. The case is closed.” No reaction, so he went on. “How much longer do I have to stay at Lost, Inc., and—?”
Talbot frowned. “Indefinitely.”
Grant’s heart sank. His stomach knotted. “May I ask why, sir?”
Dayton piped up. “If the commander wanted you to know, he’d tell you. You have your orders, Major.”
Grant clamped his jaw. “Yes, sir.”
“Ease up, Jeremy,” Talbot told Dayton, then swerved his gaze to Grant. “You’re absolutely convinced that no one at Lost, Inc., has in any way been involved in the Nest security breach?”