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Identity: Classified

Page 13

by Liz Shoaf


  Releasing her grip on her armrest, she opened her laptop. “You’re right. It’s a message from the killer. I don’t know if he’s in the car behind us or sitting in an office several states away and one of his hirelings is following us, but he says to stop and give the disc to the driver or we both die, along with my friends.” Her voice wobbled at the end of the sentence, and that just made her fume.

  Ethan drove fast but steadily for a minute or so. “Do you have another backup disc?”

  “A decoy?”

  “Yes. Do you have one?”

  Chloe wanted to kick herself. “No.” Right after she spoke, her computer dinged again. She looked down and grinned. “But I don’t think it matters. Listen to this. ‘You owe me one.’ It’s signed RBTL.”

  Ethan grinned. “Read Between the Lines.”

  “Yep, I do believe it’s your mountain man at work.” Chloe transferred the information on the disc to her computer, then hit a few keys.

  Ethan glanced at her. “What are you doing?”

  Chloe mimicked a Southern lady. “Why, Ethan, I’m wiping the disc clean,” she said as she slipped it into a protective cover, “then you’re going to throw it out the window where our company can see it real clearly.”

  His grin widened. “Let’s do it.”

  Her computer chirped. She pulled the disc out and handed it to Ethan. He waited until they were on a straight stretch of road, but Chloe stopped him. “Wait! Let me send a message to the killer.”

  She typed quickly and grinned at Ethan. “Now!”

  He threw it out the driver’s window and the car behind them hit the brakes and swerved in the road. Ethan looked at her and grinned. “Good job.”

  His praise warmed her in a place that had been cold for a long time, until she remembered they didn’t have any kind of a future, even if they both were interested in one. Chloe shook off the thought and knew what she had to do.

  “I pray that Sarah stays safe, and we have to go to New York.” She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you about Stan...”

  FIFTEEN

  Ethan was impressed by the woman sitting in the car next to him. Not many people he knew would have been so calm under fire. She was tough as nails on the outside, but what drew him was the softer side she kept safely tucked away. But the woman still had secrets, and he had a strong feeling one of them was about to be revealed. He had long wondered about the mysterious Stan. In one way, he didn’t want to know. Was Stan a boyfriend? An ex-boyfriend? No, that wouldn’t fit the timeline if her parents knew him all those years ago. The man would be old enough to be her father.

  He pushed aside his—jealousy?—and girded himself for another truth to be revealed. “You were saying?” he prodded after her sentence trailed off.

  She cleared her throat and he figured this must be hard for her.

  “Stan is my adoptive father.”

  “I assume he lives in New York and we’re headed to the airport?”

  She chuckled roundly. “You’re quick on the draw. Yes, Stan and Betty live in New York.” She took a deep breath and turned away, staring at the passing scenery. “They adopted me when I was sixteen. They were never able to have children.”

  Something didn’t add up. “Most people adopt babies. How did they find you at an orphanage in North Carolina?”

  She shrugged evasively and Ethan’s lie detector was activated.

  He thought about everything she’d gone through and shuddered when he thought about his own daughter. He couldn’t imagine Penny living through what Chloe had gone through.

  “Were you happy?”

  She looked at him and her dimples popped out when she grinned. “Even though I was sixteen, I was a terror, but they loved me anyway. Eventually, I turned into a good upstanding citizen.”

  It was a quiet ride the rest of the way to the airport. Flights were expensive, but they got tickets on the next plane to New York. They checked their weapons, and soon Geordie was tucked in a crate under the window seat in front of Chloe. Ethan took the aisle seat. Once they were airborne, Chloe laid her head back and closed her eyes.

  Ethan studied her. It was the first time he’d been able to do so without being obvious. Her spiked black hair somehow worked for her. It showcased her pixie face and highlighted her brown eyes. The dimples had disappeared for the moment, but they always grabbed his gut when she smiled.

  “You’re fortunate to have Penny, and even though you’ve managed to spoil her rotten, she’s a good kid.”

  Ethan thought about his daughter, and he hated to admit it, but Chloe was right. He blew out a breath. “I tried too hard to make up for her mother’s death. She was so young when Sherri died, but you’re right. I need to set more boundaries.”

  Her eyes were still closed, and he wondered where this was leading.

  “Were you happy in your marriage? I know you said Sherri didn’t quite fit in after the move to Jackson Hole.”

  “Happy enough, I suppose.”

  He looked away, not wanting Chloe to see the sense of failure in his eyes. He turned back around when a soft hand found his and squeezed. “Ethan, you did what you thought was right. Sherri should have told you if she was unhappy.”

  Sadness engulfed him. “Maybe, but she was gone so quickly.”

  Chloe held on to his hand. “You never got closure. I understand that.”

  He felt like a heel. Of course Chloe understood. She never got to say goodbye to her parents. At least he was with Sherri right before she died.

  “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  She shrugged, but he now knew there was emotion churning beneath the careless gesture.

  “So what about you? Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

  She flashed humorous brown eyes at him. “Well, since we’re having our own private therapy session, I’ve had an epiphany of my own. I’ve dated, but never the same guy more than two or three times. I’ve recently realized I’ve spent my adult life running from my past, but I’m ready to stand and fight now.”

  He grinned. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. And speaking of fighting, don’t you think it’s time for you to tell me more about Stan and why you think he can help us?” This wasn’t only about the case. He wanted to know all of Chloe’s secrets.

  * * *

  He was right. It was time for Chloe to fess up, but she’d never, ever tell him about her juvenile record. All this time, she’d been afraid that telling him about Stan would unveil her past, but she’d be careful not to reveal too much. She really liked Ethan, and never wanted to see the inevitable look of disappointment if he found out the truth.

  “As I said, Stan and Betty are my adoptive parents. They couldn’t have any kids of their own. It was a good fit because I love technology and Stan is Director of the Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch of the FBI.”

  His head snapped around and astonishment filled his face.

  “What? Are you telling me that your adoptive father is a director in the FBI and you didn’t go straight to him right after you witnessed the murder? Why?”

  His tone was demanding and accusatory, and she didn’t like it.

  “Not that I have to tell you anything, but I didn’t want to bring danger to his doorstep.”

  Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he was trying to fortify himself. He blinked his lids open and stared at her. “Chloe, I would lay down my life for my daughter. Don’t you think your adoptive father would do the same? I imagine he and your adoptive mother have worried themselves sick over you.”

  Chloe flashed him an annoyed look.

  “What?”

  She sniffed. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”

  Ethan barked out a laugh. “You’ll keep whoever you marry on his toes, that’s for sure.”

  The look of consternation that
crossed Ethan’s face would have made her laugh if his statement hadn’t made her so sad. He had all but said that man wouldn’t be him. She turned away. It wasn’t as if he’d made any overtures in that department, and even if he had, she couldn’t really reciprocate.

  Chloe shook it off. They had work to do and a killer to catch.

  “Chloe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that there was the possibility of a relationship between us.”

  She slipped on an invisible mask and looked at him. “It’s nothing. You asked me how Stan could help us. As I told you, he’s head of the cyber department. He has access to programs the average citizen doesn’t know about.” She should know—she’d used those programs while tracking down a handful of criminals for the FBI while she was working off her community service.

  “They also have people who specialize in decoding. That disc was made so many years ago, we might have a hard time deciphering the information.”

  “What about Stan and the FBI? I thought you wanted to stay away from law enforcement.”

  She had prepared for that. “We’ll start without them. I have a plan.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course you do, and what, may I ask, is your brilliant idea? And it better be legal.”

  Chloe grinned. She could deal with this. It was much better than thinking about their nonrelationship. “Before we resort to using Stan’s resources to find the killer, I’m going to try finding out what’s on the disc myself. That would give me leverage in case someone turns me in, since police questioning would take away precious time I need to catch this guy before someone else gets hurt. Though I beefed up the security on my computer, it’s only a matter of time before the killer gets in. However, I know someone who might be able to help us. He used to work for the FBI cyber department, but he’s retired now. His name is Henry. Henry Stanton. He’s been around forever and knows the old coding much better than I do.”

  Ethan looked skeptical.

  “I’ve kept in touch with Uncle Henry. He was one of the best, and probably still is. He keeps up with the ever-changing technology. If he can’t help us, we’ll go directly to my adoptive father, leverage or not.”

  Ethan appeared to mull that over, then slowly nodded. “Okay. Where does Uncle Henry live? And I thought you didn’t have any other relatives?”

  Chloe cringed at her mistake. She shouldn’t have called him Uncle Henry. That was brushing too close to her sordid past. She thought fast. “He worked with Stan before retiring and I got to know him. He insisted I call him Uncle Henry.”

  The truth was that Uncle Henry had taken an angry, obnoxious sixteen-year-old under his wing when she started working with the FBI’s cyber department. Between Henry, Stan and Betty, she’d slowly turned into a somewhat normal person. She liked to joke that they had loved her right out of her teenage rebellion.

  “He lives in the city. I doubt he’s home, but I know where to find him.”

  Ethan blew out a breath and Chloe smiled. Somehow she always exasperated the people she hung around.

  “And where would that be?”

  Chloe chuckled. “By the time we land and grab a taxi, he’ll be at his favorite fishing hole.”

  Ethan raised a dark eyebrow. “A fishing hole in New York?”

  “Yep. A freshwater lake right in Central Park. You can catch black crappie, bass, carp and a few more. It’s a catch-and-release program the city offers.”

  The brow arched higher. “Sounds like you know a thing or two about fishing.”

  She leaned back in her seat. “Let’s just say I have a few hidden talents.” In reality, she’d learned a lot about patience and tranquility while fishing with Henry when she was young.

  He mumbled something under his breath about hidden talents and hidden weapons, but she closed her eyes. She told Ethan the truth. She’d kept in touch with Henry via computer, but she hadn’t visited him in years even though they both lived in New York. The past was catching up with her, and it was time. Past time.

  * * *

  The plane landed. They grabbed a quick bite to eat inside the airport and retrieved their checked weapons. Chloe found a spot for Geordie to do his business and they slipped into a taxi.

  She leaned forward from the back seat where they were scrunched together to speak to the cabby. She almost laughed when Geordie licked Ethan on his disgruntled face.

  “Drop us off at 72nd Street and Central Park West.”

  After about twenty minutes, and some creative driving, the cabby came to a shuddering stop and they piled out of the back and grabbed their bags. Ethan paid the driver and he sped off to catch another fare.

  She clipped the leash onto Geordie’s collar and was taking a step forward when Ethan laid a hand on her arm, effectively stopping her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He scanned the area. “I’m sure by now the killer knows he has a blank disc. He’ll be furious over the fact that we tricked him. We need to find your uncle Henry and get someplace safe. We don’t know if he has people on the ground here in New York. It would have been easy to track our air travel.”

  Chloe’s heart pounded at the idea of putting Uncle Henry at risk, and she was still worried about Sarah. Uncle Henry was smart as a whip and a grumpy old codger, and she loved him. “Maybe we should go to his apartment and wait. He doesn’t carry a cell phone. He’s paranoid about phone programs tracking him.”

  Ethan shook his head. “We’re at risk anywhere. Let’s find him, then we’ll decide what to do.”

  Geordie picked up her tension and whimpered. She petted him on the head. “It’s okay, boy. Everything will be okay.” But that wasn’t true. Everything wouldn’t be okay until they caught the person who had already killed and didn’t seem to have any qualms about killing again.

  Chloe took the lead, and five minutes later Ethan whistled when the lake came into view. It was a large lake with pristine waters reflecting the late-afternoon sun. People sat on blankets, and children and dogs ran and played.

  “It doesn’t feel like we’re in the middle of a big city. This lake could very well be in Jackson Hole.”

  Chloe took a moment to enjoy Ethan’s appreciation of the place, then scanned the area for Henry’s favorite fishing hole, and there he was, sitting on the bank hunched over a fishing pole. His white hair stood out like a beacon. His hair had been white as long as she’d known him. He always said going prematurely gray was a bad gene in his family. Chloe thought the color was stunning.

  Being back at the orphanage had been hard, but this was harder. Chloe and Uncle Henry had always had a unique relationship. Most people didn’t get it. She grinned, wondering what Ethan would think.

  They worked their way around the lake and she called out because they were coming up behind him. He might be ancient, but he certainly wasn’t helpless.

  “Hey, you old codger. You caught anything on the end of that cheap rod you got sticking in the water?”

  He didn’t turn around. “Better ’n that newfangled rod you fish with.” He patted the wooden stool beside him. “Sit down, girl, I’ve been waitin’ on you to show up.”

  Ethan raised a brow but didn’t say anything. Geordie ran past her and she released the leash. The poodle and the old man stared at each other, and Chloe tugged Ethan’s arm, pulling them in front of Henry.

  The old man looked up. He had a few more wrinkles, but he hadn’t changed much. Chloe wanted to give him a big hug though Henry was about as huggable as a ticked-off porcupine.

  “I see you still got that prissy dog.”

  “I see you’re still wearing that thirty-year-old fishing shirt that stinks like last week’s dirty laundry.”

  “Can’t wash it. You know that. I always catch fish when I wear this shirt and my hat.”

  In an aside, she spoke to Ethan. “Claims he caught an award-winning sturgeon in Florida one time we
aring that shirt and ratty old hat.”

  Ethan looked at her, curiosity and humor lighting his eyes, and then faced Henry.

  “Listen, we’re out in the open. We need to go somewhere safe and talk.”

  It didn’t surprise Chloe when Uncle Henry ignored Ethan and spoke to her. “Heard you got some trouble brewing.”

  Ethan released an exasperated huff that Chloe ignored.

  She studied the older man in front of her, and her heart—the one that was cracking open an inch at a time as she revisited her past—clenched at the new wrinkles she saw lining his face. She should have visited him more often. Hopefully, there would be more fishing days in the future, but Ethan was right. They should get somewhere safe.

  She produced a grin. “I see you’ve been keeping up.”

  He squinted up at her. “No one will tell me anything these days. I have to keep up for myself.”

  Which meant Uncle Henry was breaking a few rules by hacking into the FBI computer system.

  Time to get serious. “Uncle Henry, we need some help.”

  Chloe almost laughed when Henry shot Ethan a suspicious look.

  “Where’d you pick him up?”

  “He’s good. Sheriff Ethan Hoyt from Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”

  Henry snorted as he reeled in his line and started packing his gear into an old metal fishing box. “You always were one to pick up strays.”

  Ethan stiffened and she shot him a big grin. His body relaxed and they all headed toward the street. They were about halfway there when Ethan shouted, “Down! Get down!”

  SIXTEEN

  Across the lake, Ethan saw the sun reflect off something that could be the barrel of a rifle and didn’t take any chances. He yelled for everyone to get down. Geordie went crazy barking and Ethan was proved right when Henry dropped his metal fishing box and grabbed his right arm as if he’d taken a bullet.

  Chloe didn’t hesitate. She pulled her gun out of her jacket pocket, wrapped one arm around Henry and propelled him forward.

 

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