by Rachel Grant
“That job being to lie to me. To romance me to distraction because you needed to sell the story of Ivy and Matt’s whirlwind romance to me.”
“The night we danced… I thought I was distracting you, yes. But it was more than that for me. I was hiding behind an excuse. And yes, your playing witness to their ‘first meeting’ was to make it real. Someone had to play that role.”
“Did Ivy pick me?”
“No. Ivy didn’t know Dimitri would show up in Grand Cayman. We couldn’t tell her, in case the CIA didn’t release him with a clean cover. The GRU had to believe he was dead, or Ivy and Julian would be in danger.”
It helped—a little—to know her sister hadn’t chosen to lie to her. “Alec chose me, then.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to kick his ass.”
He cupped her face. “I’ll do it for you if you want.”
She let out a laugh, then her eyes teared again. “You lied to me too.”
“I’m sorry. Sorry I was complicit. Sorry I maintained the lie this weekend. Once Rav hinted he suspected Matt, I should have insisted we tell you everything.”
“You suspect Matt? You think he tried to kill us tonight?”
“Not anymore. C’mon. We need to go back to the conference room. There’s a lot we both still don’t know. Like what Matt is doing here now. Or why Chase revealed our location—and who he told.”
She leaned into Sean and took another deep breath, then voiced the question that haunted her. “Yesterday…wasn’t a lie? You weren’t doing your job? Like a good soldier?”
His eyes widened with alarm and maybe a spark of anger. “First of all, I was in the Navy. Not a soldier. Second, yesterday was real. I’ve never slept with a woman for a job and am not about to start now. I love you. I’ve wanted you for years. I will never get enough of you. I would never lie about that.”
“Is this going to work? Us, I mean?”
“I don’t know. We’ve got a lot to figure out first. But I want to give us a chance.”
“You have to promise you won’t lie to me again. Ever.”
He nodded. “Done. No more lies, not even for the job.” He leaned down and kissed her, a soft brush of his lips over hers. “Now, can we please go back to the conference room?”
She nodded. She very much wanted to know what Dimitri Veselov had to say. And she really wanted to kick her cousin’s ass.
30
Sean returned to the conference room, holding Hazel’s hand in a clear message to everyone present. Isabel was seated at the conference table and looked approvingly at their joined hands.
Sean met Rav’s gaze, his jaw tight. Sean would keep his vow of never lying to her again, and Rav would respect that or he would walk.
Hazel released Sean’s hand and crossed her arms, her posture defensive and hurt. “I’m not five, and I don’t throw tantrums. I’m struggling with mental health issues and don’t appreciate being belittled for it.”
“I’m sorry,” Rav said. “I was out of line. I didn’t realize that was a panic attack, but that’s no excuse. I was an ass.”
Sean wouldn’t have known either, except he’d sent her into a similar attack after the wedding without realizing it. She’d used the same words today that she used then. She couldn’t breathe.
This time, he’d understood. She’d been suffocating and needed grounding. He would stick to orthodox methods of staving off panic attacks moving forward. No more wild sex in the woods. Not unless Hazel specifically asked for it.
This was the worst possible time to start a relationship with her—she was so vulnerable. But he’d managed to help her through this panic, to talk her down. That meant something.
He didn’t know how to deal with cancer, how to help his sister, but he could help Hazel. He would help her. He would ground her, give her a reality to hold onto. He would love her and be by her side as she found her bearings.
He draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She lost her defensive posture and relaxed into him.
Isabel grinned. “It’s about damn time you two got together. I’ve been watching you circle each other the entire time I’ve known you.”
“All it took was a car chase and Hazel being shot at for me to get my head out of my ass,” Sean said.
Hazel laughed, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I laughed at that.”
“If we couldn’t laugh, we’d all lose our minds,” Rav said. Then he flushed, realizing what he’d said and who he’d said it to. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
This time Hazel’s laugh was full, unrestrained. “Oh my God. The look on your face! That’s almost enough payback for the crap you put me through. Almost. I’m still incredibly pissed. And hurt.”
“I’m really sorry about that, Hazel.” This came from Ivy, who stood in the open doorway. “It was vital that we have some believable story to introduce Matt to the family, or his cover would fall apart. I didn’t know you would be used that way, but I went along in the moment, without ever considering what it would mean to you if the truth came out.”
She stepped into the room. “I know you’re mad at Alec, but please understand, everything he did was for me.” She reached Matt’s side, and he put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, much as Sean held Hazel. “Because he understood how much I love Matt. How much I need him. Plus, we’re Julian’s parents. He needs us, and we need him. There’s so much I can tell you now, that I couldn’t before. But first and foremost, no one wanted to hurt you. Everything Alec did, he did because he loves all of us and wants us to be happy.”
“I did it for Julian too,” Alec said. “So he’d have a father, a man who loves him completely. Someone had to sell the story of Ivy and Matt’s first meeting, and who better than Ivy’s sister and best friend? If you believed it, everyone would. And that’s exactly what happened. But I never really considered how you’d feel, and for that, I’m sorry.”
“I get it,” Hazel said. “I know eventually I’ll be able to forgive you, but right now, I’m a little raw and feeling betrayed.” She looked at Matt. “And I have a lot of questions for you.”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know later,” he said. “Right now, we need to figure out exactly what’s going on with Chase Johnston, and why the cabin was set on fire.”
Rav cleared his throat. “And why the annex at the estate blew up.”
Shock coursed through Sean. He didn’t think anything else could surprise him today.
“What?” Hazel and Ivy said in unison.
Rav nodded. “It happened about fifteen minutes before you called to say the cabin was on fire. Far as we can tell, no one was hurt. The annex is far enough away from the house and garage that it’s the only structure damaged. I was about to go to the estate when you called.”
“It blew up. Not Molotov cocktails?” Sean asked.
“No. It’s made of concrete brick. It wouldn’t burn. My guess is they’ll say the gas furnace blew, but let’s face it, someone was after one of two things: to scare the shit out of Hazel or to destroy the bones. Probably both.”
Hazel gave a pained laugh. “Well, they succeeded on the first part.”
“But not on the second?” Ivy asked.
Sean allowed a wide grin as his arm around Hazel tightened. “No. On Thursday, we decided to move all the bones here.”
“Oh, thank God,” Isabel said.
“So this is about the bones after all,” Hazel said. “The threat. It was to keep Isabel from finding the bones, and me from examining them.”
“It’s looking like that,” Rav said. “But given the site’s location, in a reservoir adjacent to Raptor land, and given what’s going on with Chase, we need to examine all the angles.” He pulled out a chair at the head of the table. “It’s past time we all talked.”
Everyone took a seat at the large table, the six of them clustered at one end. Sean took the seat to Rav’s right, across from Isabel, Hazel by his si
de. Matt and Ivy sat next to Isabel across the table.
“I think it’s time to call Keith in as well,” Sean said. “For the same reason. Raptor land. Chase’s involvement. This is a Raptor issue, not just a political one.”
“Agreed,” Rav said. “I called him while you were talking to Hazel. He’s on his way. We’ll bring him up to speed when he gets here.” He cleared his throat. “First, we should start with the threats and timeline.”
Ivy jumped to her feet and went to the whiteboard, picking up a dry-erase marker from the tray. “It will be easier to organize the data if we map it out. Tell me the dates and locations, and I’ll draw the timeline.”
“We can project a map onto the second board and mark the location of the reservoir and where things have blown up or been torched,” Isabel said, rising to use the conference room computer that was hardwired into the projection system.
Sean smiled. The mapping expert and archaeologist wanted visuals. Worked for him. They needed to take an analytical approach to this mess, because his emotional reaction to the danger Hazel was in was messing with his focus.
Right now, he was the one who needed grounding.
Isabel found a satellite map and zoomed in. A rectangle that included northeastern West Virginia, northern Virginia, and Gaithersburg, Maryland filled the whiteboard. She grabbed a marker and approached the board.
First, she circled the estate on the outskirts of Gaithersburg. “Our house, where the annex blew up.” Next she drew an X at the location of the inn in West Virginia. “This is where Chase’s car blew up.” She moved just over the state border and circled a lake. “This is the reservoir.” Just inside that circle, she drew another circle. “This is Raptor’s property that abuts the reservoir.” She looked at Sean and raised a brow. “I don’t know where Chase’s cabin is. Can you locate it?”
He stood and studied the contours of the landform, following the path of the two-lane highway he’d driven yesterday morning. He found the approximate area and circled it. “Right around here.” He stared at the circle in relation to the others. The cabin wasn’t on the reservoir, but it was close. Less than fifteen miles from Raptor land. “Chase said he spotted the For Sale sign on the property on one of his trips out to the wilderness training area. The quiet of the place spoke to him. He used the signing bonus he received when he took the job at the Virginia compound to pay for it.”
Everyone, even Chase, knew the signing bonus had really been reparations. Rav paying him for pain and suffering.
“Okay. Now we have the locations—” Ivy began.
“No. Two locations are missing,” Rav said. “The compound should be included, along with Senator Small’s holdings on the reservoir.”
“Senator Small has property on the reservoir?” Ivy asked.
“Yes. It took some digging to identify the true owner, but it appears Small has the parcel adjacent to Raptor land.”
“Small is the property owner who forced the delay in fieldwork?” Hazel asked.
“Yes,” Isabel said.
Rav stood and crossed the room and circled another parcel on the map. “Twenty-five years ago, Small and Beck had plans to go into business together, to build a private jail and rent out the prisoners as cheap labor—fighting fires, road maintenance, that sort of thing. Raptor was supposed to provide security, and Small would handle the labor contracts. But Lawrenceville and GEO Group got the contract, and Beck decided to use the parcel of land for wilderness trainings instead. Their collaboration dissolved, and the jointly purchased parcel was divided—presumably to pay Small back for his investment. Small’s portion was transferred into a holding company.” Rav tapped the circle on the map with the red marker. “This parcel has belonged to him ever since. He’s the one who built the large house that overlooks the lake.”
“The holding company,” Hazel said. “It was hiding Small all along.”
“Yes,” Rav said.
“And Small is still pushing for more privatized prisons through legislation,” Ivy said.
“Also true,” Rav said, returning to his seat. “My bid to stop it is one of the reasons he and Voigt Forum targeted me. Which brings us to the timeline and the threatening letters.” He looked at his wife and cleared his throat. After a long pause, he said, “I get threatening letters all the time. It’s a hazard of the job. While most are toothless, I take them all seriously and have staff who regularly check Voigt Forum and other sites for threats. Voigt Forum pretends their anonymous users are the ones who post threats, but I have no doubt their own staff or bots generate most of them. They want to appear to have more users than they do, when in truth, they’re little more than a fringe site.
“A few weeks ago, a threat appeared on Voigt that was pretty generic. It said I should resign, I’m a traitor and baby killer—which is one of their standard attacks on my military service—and if I didn’t, my family would pay the price.” His gaze fixed on Isabel. “I always take threats to family seriously, but considering it appeared to be bot generated, it went into the ‘monitor and move on’ pile. But then I received a similar threat via email, no longer a random post I wouldn’t necessarily be expected to see. So it moved up on the threat assessment index. I discussed with Isabel whether or not she should lay low while it was investigated.”
“I refused,” Isabel said. “I won’t let my life be controlled by racist assholes. A hate site like Voigt Forum doesn’t get to decide where and when I work. Hell, even pro-Ravissant groups don’t get to control me. I’ll wear what I want, say what I want, and I won’t soften my image or change my last name to appeal to whatever demographic they want me to court. Alec is the politician, not me. That’s the deal we made when we first got together.”
Rav smiled. “It really drives them nuts that you won’t play the game.”
She flashed a toothy grin. “I’m nobody’s token.” She returned her attention to the map. “And at the same time that threat came in, the dam relicensing project was finally a go for fieldwork. Talon & Drake had bid on it the minute Raptor, as a landowner adjacent to the reservoir, was notified about the repair requiring a deep drawdown. I gave JT the heads-up myself. We already have an on-call with FERC, so it was an easy contract mod. Our timing for the survey was limited because the drawdown would be so much deeper than usual. They wanted a short window with the lake that low. Archaeological survey is standard practice during drawdowns, especially when previously recorded sites will be exposed for the first time in decades. We’d been all set to start fieldwork a week earlier but were delayed when one of the reservoir property owners objected to the survey.” She pointed to the circle Rav had drawn, marking Small’s property. “That property owner, to be exact.”
“Small didn’t want you on his land,” Hazel said.
Isabel grimaced. “No, he did not. It took a few days to sort out—Small’s objections were irrelevant. His property line is well above the reservoir high-water zone, to give the utility the right to raise the lake several feet if needed. But we had to sort out the exact boundaries of what we were allowed to survey, to make it clear we wouldn’t encroach on Small’s property. He dragged it out as long as possible—he was slow to reply or ‘misunderstood’ the communication. And of course, this was all done through attorneys. I had no idea Small was the landowner until yesterday, when Alec received the report with the details.”
She studied the map, then turned back to her audience. “With the lost days, we had to hurry the fieldwork. The repairs were nearly complete by the time we were out there. Including the weekend, we had nine days to finish before lake refill began Friday.”
“Important to the timeline,” Rav said, “I received another threatening email the day before Isabel went into the field. This one again repeated that I should resign, with more veiled threats to family.”
“But…no one really wanted you to resign at all, did they?” Hazel said. “Small was trying to stop Isabel from going into the field.”
Rav nodded. “Yeah. I think so.
Two days later, another threatening letter arrived. It was also vague on who was being threatened—again, saying ‘family,’ but this one also included ‘redhead’—a pretty strong indicator that they were referring to Isabel. Looking back, however, it was four days after Hazel moved in with us.”
Rav pulled a page from the file on the table. “But on Monday, things stepped up a notch, taking the threat to a whole new level. It was no longer a low-grade concern. It’s time I share with all of you the threat that came in Monday.”
Tension left Sean in a rush. He’d still feared fighting Rav on that point. Maybe he wouldn’t be losing his job anytime soon after all.
Rav frowned at the paper in his hands, then began to read. “Resign Manchurian candidate. We know what you covered up in Alaska. You harbor spies in your home. Resign, or the redhead will pay the price.”
He glanced up from the letter. “Before I continue, I want to give everyone some context. The part about harboring spies was alarming on two fronts. Matt, Ivy, and Julian had stayed with us for several days when they flew back from the Caribbean and discovered their house wasn’t ready for them to move in yet. So the reference could be to Matt. Which is scary as hell, because if he’s been compromised, we’re in a world of trouble.
“That meant the spy reference had to be redacted—and not just from Hazel. I couldn’t share the full letter with the US Capitol Police. Only a handful of individuals in the FBI know the truth about Matt. But there was also another possibility, which was alarming in a different way. It also could have meant Hazel. And I hate to say it, but that was my hope, because then it means Ivy and Julian don’t need to disappear into witness protection.”
“Wait. How could it have been referring to Hazel?” Matt asked.
Sean was glad he asked, because he was wondering the same thing.
“Nine months ago,” Hazel said, “ICMP sent me to Eastern Ukraine to examine bones that had been found in a mass grave—the remains of refugees who had been fleeing contested and occupied towns in Eastern Ukraine in the aftermath of the annexation of Crimea. I was detained and interrogated by pro-Russian separatists who accused me of being a spy.”