Читать книгу Secret Intentions - Paula Graves - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Evie eased her hands away from Jesse’s grasp and sat up straighter. “You know they grabbed me outside the sanctuary. I told you that, right?”

He nodded. “They put you in that box I saw them carrying.”

“Right. I think it was one of those big cases large audio speakers go in.”

Jesse nodded. “That makes sense. The truck had a logo on the side—Audiovisual Assets.”

“Assets.” The word clicked into focus. “As in AfterAssets?”

He looked surprised. “I hadn’t thought about that. But because we’re pretty sure those guys were former SSU operatives, it makes sense.”

“They definitely gave off the stench of the SSU. All business. I was out of commission and stuck in that box before I had time to think.”

“How did you get out?”

She managed a grin. “I used my earrings to slide through the space between the box and the lid to push the latches open.”

He smiled. “Everybody always underestimates you, don’t they?”

She felt ridiculously pleased at the indirect compliment. “At their peril,” she said with a bright bravado she didn’t quite feel. The full impact of what had happened to her had begun to sink in. Jesse was right—she’d been lucky today. Twice. “How did you know to follow the truck anyway?”

“A hunch,” he admitted. He told her about seeing the silk sticking out of the box. “When I called your phone and got Rita, I couldn’t shake the feeling that you were inside that box.”

She tamped down a shiver. “Thank God for your hunches.”

He got up from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa, sliding his arm around her shoulder. She fought the urge to sink into his arms, acutely aware of the danger that lay behind that desire.

Beyond the fact that he was her boss, he was also about as off-limits as a man came. He’d been her sister’s fiancé, and she was pretty sure he still harbored feelings for Rita that would never go away. She’d already spent her whole life coming in second to her brilliant, beautiful sister. She wasn’t going to do that with Jesse Cooper. It was long past time to let go of her girlhood crush on him.

Jesse’s cell phone rang, giving her an excuse to ease out of his grasp. He looked at the display, frowning a little as he answered. “Hello?”

After a pause, he held out the phone to her. “Your father.”

She took the phone, dismayed at how her hand was shaking. “Daddy?”

Her father’s deep growl rumbled over the phone line. “Kitten, are you okay? Cooper’s brother told me what happened to you.”

“I’m fine.” She blinked back the unexpected tears stinging her eyes. It had been a long time since her father had used his old pet name for her. Their relationship had been difficult for the past few months, ever since she’d told him she was taking the accounting job at Cooper Security. It was good to hear him speak to her without the strain of disapproval.

“You don’t sound fine. What happened exactly?”

She told her father about the ambush, trying to make it sound less scary than it had been at the time. “Jesse helped me get away. I was lucky.”

“You tell Cooper you want to come home.”

“Daddy—”

“I’ll hire extra security.”

“Hire Cooper Security,” she said. “We’re all still in danger. And the security team you’ve hired isn’t capable of dealing with these people.”

“You think I can’t protect you?”

“I know you’d do everything you could. But this is big, Dad. You know that better than any of us.”

He was silent a moment.

“Daddy, please talk to Jesse. Tell him everything you know about the Espera Group. Give him your part of the code to the journal.”

“Evie, none of this concerns you.”

“It all concerns me. They’re trying to use us against you because of what you know.”

“And flapping my jaws about what I know will only make things that much worse. I’m trying to protect you girls and your mama.”

“It’s not working.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

She bit back a retort she knew would only hurt her father. “I do, too. Jesse and the Coopers know what we’re up against. I trust them to protect me. And maybe it’s smarter if we’re not all together in one place.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence on the phone line between them. She broke it a moment later by asking, “How’s Mom? How are Rita and Andrew?”

“Rita and Andrew just left for the hotel.”

Rita and her new husband were flying to Spain for their honeymoon the next morning, but they’d made plans to spend the night at a hotel in Birmingham. “You should hire Cooper Security to provide them with protection. Spain isn’t unreachable. And the hotel is probably vulnerable.”

“I’m taking care of it,” her father said flatly. “Your mother wants to talk to you.”

After a brief pause, her mother came on the line, her voice tight with tears. “Baby girl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured her. “Really.”

“I can’t believe all of this is happening.” Her mother’s voice was dark with dismay. “First Edward Ross, then what happened to the Harlowes and now all this—”

“We’re going to figure it all out,” Evie said firmly.

“Here’s your father again.”

Her father came back on the line. “Let me speak to Cooper.”

Evie held out the phone to Jesse. “He wants to speak to you.”

Jesse took the phone, looking unperturbed. “General.” He listened a moment, glancing at Evie. “I can’t do that, sir.” He hung up the phone.

“Did you hang up on him?”

“He ordered me to take you home to him.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Ordered you?”

“He’s worried about you. And probably feeling guilty about the danger you’re in.” Jesse shot her a considering look. “He should feel guilty. I know he’s trying to protect you all, but he’s going about it the wrong way. I wish he’d let us provide protection for your family.”

“He’s never going to do that. It would be like admitting he was wrong about you, and you know how he hates to admit he’s wrong.” As Jesse started to move toward the sofa where she sat, she pushed to her feet, putting distance between them. She felt vulnerable and needy at the moment, and letting Jesse Cooper anywhere near her when she was in that condition was asking for a disaster. “I think I’d like to lie down awhile. You probably have more calls to make, right?”

His dark eyes narrowed as if he were seeing right past her excuses to discern the motives behind them. She crossed her arms in front of her, feeling suddenly naked.

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need me.”

“Will do,” she said over her shoulder as she retreated to the bedroom.

But she wouldn’t call him. Because the last thing she ever intended to do again was need Jesse Cooper.

* * *

T HE SAFE HOUSE was eerily silent, offering no distraction from the maelstrom of images racing through Jesse’s mind. He was a twelve-year veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps, had seen combat on three different continents and had killed more than one enemy soldier during his time in uniform. He’d made peace with what he’d been called upon to do by remembering his sacred duty to protect not only his countrymen at home but his brothers-in-arms fighting in the trenches with him.

So why couldn’t he get the chaotic sounds and images of the recent ambush out of his head?

Because it was Evie Marsh they’d been gunning for.

Jesse rubbed his jaw, his mind fixed on the sight of her pushing open the door of the dead security guard’s SUV and racing through the hail of bullets to reach Jesse’s position. Her blue eyes had been wide and scared, but she’d run without hesitation, trusting him to lay down cover fire to get her safely out of harm’s way.

As vulnerable as she’d looked, barely clad in the ruins of her rust-colored dress with her fancy hairdo falling around her face in a messy cloud, her courage had been a sucker punch right to his gut.

Hearing a door open in the back of the house, his hand went automatically to the pistol holstered at his hip. He relaxed when, a moment later, Evie emerged from the hallway looking soft and sleepy-eyed.

“What time is it?” she asked.

He glanced at his watch. “Around nine forty-five. You slept awhile. You hungry? Not much here except canned stuff, but I could heat up some soup or something.” He’d had soup and crackers for his own dinner.

She shook her head and sat on the sofa beside him, her body radiating warmth. “Any news while I was playing Rip van Winkle?”

“All quiet.”

She pulled her bare feet up to the sofa, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “I suppose it was too much to hope they’d nab those guys trying to leave the state.”

“I doubt they’ve tried to leave the state.”

Evie’s gaze slanted up to meet his. “No, they’re not exactly the type to retreat when their mission doesn’t go right the first time, are they?”

“They’re probably already ticked off about losing the Harlowes last month. Especially without getting the general’s part of the code out of any of them. They need a win.” Jesse tried to study Evie’s appearance without her noticing his scrutiny. She looked tired but the swelling and redness around her eyes and nose had gone down considerably. By morning she’d have few signs of her run-in with the pepper spray.

There was a faint purple bruise on her cheekbone, however, that might look worse the next day. He brushed his fingertips against the blemish before he could stop himself. Her gaze snapped up to his.

“You have a bruise.”

She backed away from his touch. “Must have banged my face on that box when they were pushing me inside.”

“Are you sure that’s all it was?”

“Nobody hit me. Believe me, I’d have told you.” Her lips curved in a wry, humorless grin. “Though I’d take getting socked in the face three times a day over being shot at.”

Something in the tone of her voice made his gut ache. “Did you have a nightmare about it? While you were asleep?”

She looked away. “I don’t remember.”

She did remember. Vividly. He could tell by the look on her face, the tense set of her shoulders and the white-knuckled grip of her clasped hands.

“I used to have combat-related nightmares all the time. Still do sometimes.”

“So they don’t go away?” Despair tinged her voice.

“They usually soften with time. Sharp edges dull, sounds mute.” Blood didn’t run as freely or as crimson-dark after a while.

“I don’t know if Wilson had a family,” she murmured after a moment of tense silence. “I don’t even remember if he wore a wedding ring.”

“You didn’t get him killed, Evie.”

“He wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t been guarding me.”

“He wouldn’t be dead if those men hadn’t shot him. That wasn’t your doing.” He slid his arm across the back of the sofa, letting his fingers brush against the curve of her shoulder. “First rule of engagement—remember who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy.”

“No, the first rule of engagement is to be courteous to everyone but friendly to no one,” she countered.

He smiled. Should have known he wouldn’t get that one past the daughter of a Marine Corps general. “You’d have been a good Marine.”

The wistful look she gave him caught him off guard. “I wanted to be a Marine. Did you know that?”

He shook his head, surprised. “No. Why didn’t you?”

“Mother didn’t want another Marine to have to worry about. And Dad agreed.” She rested her cheek on her knee, still looking up at him. “I could have defied them. Hell, maybe I should have. But I couldn’t put my mother through another twenty years of anxiety, especially so close to my father’s retirement date.”

He tried to imagine Evie in uniform. She was small but physically strong, as he’d experienced when she’d kicked him in the face earlier that day. He’d watched enough of her Cooper Security training sessions to know she was agile and skillful. She had a decent record at the shooting range, and her thinking skills were top-notch.

The only disadvantage she’d have had as a Marine was her size, and she could have made up much of that deficit with her courage and intellect. He wouldn’t mind having her covering his backside in a fight.

“Do you regret not becoming a Marine?”

“Not as much since you hired me. I get to hone my skills at the office training center, and recently, I’ve had plenty of brushes with death to keep me on top of my game.” She shot him another wry smile. “Always something hopping when you Coopers are around.”

“You have no idea,” he said, thinking about all his family had been through over the past few years. “We used to be such a calm, quiet family.”

She shook her head. “I doubt that.”

Jesse’s cell phone rang, giving them both a start. He fished the phone from his pocket. It was his brother Rick.

“Turn on the television,” Rick ordered tersely.

“What channel?”

“Any of ’em.”

Jesse picked up the TV remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. It was already tuned to a news channel.

“That’s my father,” Evie said, her voice tinted by surprise.

A pretty black television reporter out of Birmingham stood in the live shot next to the general, holding the microphone toward him as he spoke.

The general’s tone was grim. “My daughter Rita and my wife are safe, but I’m worried about my younger daughter, Evelyn.”

Evie grimaced at her father’s use of her given name.

“What is he doing?” Jesse asked Rick.

“Just watch.”

“She’s gone missing and I have no idea where she is.” Her father’s voice trembled with despair.

“What is he doing?” Evie echoed Jesse’s words. “He knows where I am. He just talked to me.”

“Technically, he doesn’t,” Jesse murmured, his heart sinking into the pit of his gut. “And this is a way to put the world on notice to keep an eye out for you.”

So much for flying under the radar.

“Why would he put me in danger this way?” Evie asked.

Jesse didn’t like the only answer that made sense, but she had a right to know what they were up against.

“Someone’s gotten to him,” he said.

* * *

E VIE PACED in front of the sofa, her stomach in knots. To her right, the television played on, the volume muted. The news broadcasters had moved on to a new story, but Jesse had left the television on in case there were any new developments.

“Does your father know who’s been hiring the SSU?” he asked.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure,” she admitted. “But I think not. He hasn’t told me much at all, but from what he’s let slip, I think General Ross is the one who knew the most.”

Jesse nodded. “That’s what Emmett Harlowe told us.”

Evie made herself sit down on the coffee table in front of Jesse, folding her hands in her lap. She willed herself to mimic Jesse’s serene confidence, even if she couldn’t feel it. “Even if we were able to talk my father into sharing his part of the code, we still don’t have General Ross’s.”

“Shannon and Gideon have been working with Lydia Ross to figure out who might have his copy of the code.” Jesse’s sister Shannon had spent a week with General Ross’s widow almost two months earlier, helping her archive the general’s possessions in anticipation of Lydia’s move away from the private Gulf Coast island that had been in her family for generations.

Shannon’s discovery of the coded journal had been an accident, although Jesse had admitted afterward that he’d sent his sister to Nightshade Island in hope that she’d discover why the three generals were of such interest to the SSU.

“Have they had any luck?” Evie asked.

“Not yet,” Jesse admitted. “There weren’t many people the general trusted. General Harlowe and your father, of course, and his wife. The only other person who seems a likely prospect is Gideon, but he swears the general didn’t give him any sort of code.”

Evie didn’t know the big, quiet ex-Marine very well, but the Coopers seemed to trust him, mostly because he’d helped Shannon escape a trio of SSU mercenaries determined to use her as leverage to get their hands on General Ross’s journal. Formerly the Nightshade Island caretaker, Gideon had been in need of a job, with skills well-suited to Cooper Security. Plus, Shannon Cooper was clearly nuts about him. It hadn’t taken much coaxing to convince Jesse that Gideon would be an asset to the company.

“And Mrs. Ross doesn’t have any idea who else her husband would have trusted with the code?” she asked.

“She says he became suspicious of almost everyone in the weeks before his death. Maybe he knew someone had gotten wind of his investigations. If anyone can figure it out, Shannon can. She’s like a dog with a bone.”

Evie smiled. “I won’t tell her you used that particular description.”

“Thank you.” His return smile was uncharacteristically warm, charming enough to make her stomach turn a couple of flips.

Jesse leaned close to pick up the television remote control, his shoulder brushing against hers. Her heart jumped, and it took most of her control to keep from reacting to his accidental touch.

“They’re repeating your father’s interview.” He clicked the mute button to turn up the volume again.

“She’s gone missing and I have no idea where she is,” her father was saying to the reporter. “She left with a bodyguard after the wedding and failed to show up for the reception. Now the bodyguard has disappeared.”

“Do you think that’s true?” she asked Jesse. “Do you think those men disposed of Wilson’s body?”

“Maybe,” Jesse answered, his gaze fixed on the television as if trying to read her father’s mind.

“General,” the reporter said, “you’re the second retired military commander to make the news in the last three months. As viewers will remember, General Emmett Harlowe, a retired Air Force general, went missing in late August, along with his wife and daughter. All three were safely recovered but remain under protection, their abduction as yet unsolved. Do you believe your daughter’s disappearance could be connected?”

“I’m hoping my daughter is safe somewhere.” Her father gazed directly into the camera. “Evie, if you’re watching, remember how much your mother and I love you.”

“I still don’t understand what he’s doing here,” she admitted aloud.

“He’s talking directly to you,” Jesse answered. “What’s he telling you?”

She frowned, listening to her father’s words more carefully.

“Do you remember that Christmas in Falls Church, when you rode your bicycle up and down Oak Street? You loved that bike, but you had so much trouble learning to ride. Remember?”

She glanced at Jesse, grimacing. “So I was a little klutzy at age six.”

“But you never gave up,” her father continued. “And I don’t want you to give up now. Trust yourself—you know how to find the answers.”

“That seems really specific,” Jesse murmured.

“It does.” She looked at her father’s serious expression, trying to figure out why something about his demeanor seemed off-kilter. “He’s blinking a lot. Like he’s fighting tears. But his eyes are dry.”

Jesse watched for a second as her father looked into the camera, even as the reporter wrapped up the interview. “You’re right.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a recorder connected to that TV?”

“There is, actually. After your father’s interview aired the first time, I set the DVR to record the rest of this cable network’s news shows for the night. I thought we might want to see it again.”

“Can we replay it? I want to watch it again.”

“Sure.” Jesse bent close again, his shoulder brushing hers once more as he pulled a second remote from the coffee-table drawer. He pushed a few buttons and her father’s interview started replaying.

“See the blinks?” she asked. “It’s odd. They seemed almost—”

“Deliberate,” he finished for her.

“You see it, too?”

He nodded, his lips curving slightly. “The wily old leatherneck.”

“What?’

“He’s blinking in Morse code.”