“If I still had a relationship with Christ?”
“I knew you did. To what extent is what I wondered.”
He raked a hand through his hair on an exhale. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It’s not where it should be on my end, but God has held on tight and never let go.” He pulled her into his arms. “Just like I’m never letting you go.” He kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. “Never again?”
“Never. I promise.”
“A loved one for a loved one” continued to run through Luke’s mind.
“What’s up?” Kate asked as she packed her things in their duffel.
“Just something tracking in the back of my mind.”
“Care to share?”
He did. Leaving out all the gory and heart-wrenching details, he explained only Ebeid’s words, and she quickly inferred their meaning.
“That’s what has you so spooked. You’re worried Ebeid’s coming after me because I’m with you.”
Especially now. Especially if he learned how deeply Luke loved her—that they were to be married. For her safety, he should have waited, but he could no longer deny the truth of what he felt for her. Couldn’t have stood in her presence one nanosecond longer and not asked her to be his wife. He’d spent the last seven years hunting Ebeid. He might not have caught him yet, but he wasn’t putting his life on hold any longer.
He shook out his hands, the image of her wounded and bloody replaying through his mind. “If he discovers how much you mean to me . . .”
“No offense, but I’m pretty sure he’s already fully aware of how you feel about me. He blew up my home after all, and attempted to do so with us in it.”
“True.” She didn’t pull punches—another thing he loved about her. He bent, kissing her ring, his fingers tracing over the small diamond. It’d been all he could afford back then. “You’ll definitely need an upgrade,” he said. “Now that I can afford one.” He’d give her the wedding of her dreams.
“No,” she said, holding it up so the sunlight bounced off its princess-cut surface. “It’s perfect.”
He smiled. She would think so.
“A loved one for a loved one.”
“Hey.” She cupped his face. “It’s going to be hard—I know that—but I really believe God will help you—help us—triumph.”
He did too, but at what cost?
29
Rowing back in the rising sunlight across the still morning bay, Luke longed for nothing more than to stay at the lighthouse forever with Kate. It could be their shelter from the world, their secret hideaway.
He might have to talk with Chris and see if she’d be willing to sell. He could easily handle living there, though he would require a quicker getaway vehicle than a rowboat, just in case . . .
Just in case . . .
He shook his head. It was ingrained into him. He was going to live the rest of his life this way—always watching his back, always alert for danger, even after Ebeid was stopped. But at least he’d be doing it at Katie’s side.
“Hey,” he said as they tied the boat back up to the pier. “I’ve got a brilliant idea.”
She smirked. “Brilliant, huh?”
“After I leave the Agency, I still want to work in law enforcement of some kind, so I was thinking . . . what if I came and worked with you?” Anticipation and a tad of trepidation streaked through him as he awaited her response.
“I’d love that, but do you really think you’ll feel fulfilled doing PI work after . . . ?” She gestured at him.
“I’d pretend to not know what that means, but I got ya.” He was highly trained. “But being at your side and doing what God’s called me to do—which is striving to see justice done, through whatever method or place that may be—is all the fulfillment I need.”
She laughed as he tossed their duffel in the trunk. “Well, you would definitely bring a new skill set to the office.”
Luke considered where they’d end up tonight—though, looking back at the water and the lighthouse it hid, he was seriously considering staying there again tonight. It was obviously off Ebeid’s and, it appeared, Lauren’s radar. And it was full of the best memories he’d made in years, thanks to Katie. He glanced at the ring, his ring on her finger, and smiled.
She caught his gaze and smiled back. “Where are we off to now?” she asked as they climbed into her car and he started the engine.
“Your office.”
She frowned. “Not Declan’s office?”
“I need to dig up some information on Ebeid, and that’s going to require your particular set of skills.”
“Hacking?”
“Exactly.” He winked, anxious to see her in her element. She’d been good with the computer back in college, but from how all the guys talked, she had garnered mad skills during his years away, and he couldn’t wait to see her in action.
He also needed to set up a meeting with Malcolm, needed to let him know that Lauren had gone off reservation. Malcolm had brought her in, but no way he’d ordered her to kill them. Even he wouldn’t go that far.
An hour later, Luke checked in with Declan to update him about what they were doing. Declan agreed that Katie’s work was best accomplished from CCI.
Declan and the team were combing through all the evidence recovered from the warehouse, searching for a clue as to where Bedan may have relocated. If Ebeid hadn’t had a backup location set up, they’d just gained a day or two while he configured and equipped one, but knowing the man he’d been tracking for nigh on a decade, he’d bet his life Ebeid had planned for all contingencies.
The clock was rapidly ticking down, and the threat was higher than ever.
“So what am I looking for?” Kate asked.
“Anyone close to Ebeid who was killed.”
“By . . . ?”
“Anyone related to the U.S. via a raid, bombing, accident, hit . . .”
“Okay, and by anyone close you mean . . . ?”
“A lover.”
“Isn’t that against the rules for a Muslim?”
“Yes, but intel on Ebeid shows he didn’t become a practicing Muslim until he was in his early twenties. Prior to that, he lived unconventionally, for an Iraqi. I never thought to check who he may have had ties to before his conversion because it appears once he converted, he left everything and everyone he knew behind.”
“So you think he may still have cared for someone he left behind?”
“It’s possible. Just because you leave doesn’t mean you stop loving.” He knew that full well. Though it seemed almost impossible that a man as cruel as Ebeid could care for anyone or anything other than his cause.
“So I’m looking at his life in 1990, while he was in France?”
“Correct.”
“And he’s how old now?”
“Fifty.”
He leaned over her.
She arched a brow. “Are you going to stand there the whole time?”
He tilted his head in the affirmative. “Was planning on it. Why?”
“You’re a bit of a distraction.” Her cheeks flushed.
He swiveled her chair around so she faced him and then leaned her back. “Is that right?”
She smirked. “Do you want me to figure this out?”
“In a minute.” He took that minute to kiss her—long, slow, and tender.
“Well, that’ll help me focus,” she said after he pulled away and spun her back around to face the computer.
He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to call Malcolm.”
“Sounds good.”
Kate fanned herself after Luke excused himself to make the call. What was the man doing to her? She was strong, focused, determined. One kiss and she was swooning. It was ridiculous.
Tapping into the databases she needed to begin with, she started combing her way through, searching Ebeid’s name and scrolling back through time.
30
Kate felt as if she were watch
ing Ebeid’s life play out like a movie in reverse. She observed a lot of content before something finally captured her attention—something key.
“Luke,” she said, turning and jolting back when she saw he was standing less than two feet behind her, propped against the wooden post, his arms linked across his chest, and a charming smile on his lips.
“Sorry I spooked you,” he said, pushing off the post. “You were so engrossed, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Okay.” Her heart started to return to a somewhat normal beat. “But we’re going to have to work on you either not being so stealthy or, if that’s not possible, at least announcing your presence.”
“Deal,” he said, coming to sit beside her. “It was fun watching you doing your thing.”
She shook her head with a smile. “You’re weird.”
“Never claimed otherwise.” He shrugged with an impish grin and indicated her laptop with a tilt of his handsome head. “You’re really good at what you do.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair back into her cobalt headband. “Thanks. How’d it go with Malcolm?”
“He swears vehemently he would never order a hit on us. He agrees Lauren’s gone off reservation.”
“Because you turned her down? That’s just crazy.”
“Malcolm fears she might have accepted a contract from Ebeid. There’s been an occasional rumor of her taking a contract on the side, but no concrete proof ever came of the rumors.”
“Are you kidding?”
“I wish I were.”
“So, now what?”
“He’s got a team searching for her. They’ll bring her in.”
“Yeah. If they can find her. You said yourself, she’s one of the best.”
He leaned over her shoulder and shifted the conversation. “Looks like you’re on to something. . . .”
“I found a handful of pictures of Ebeid with this woman.” Kate pointed to the woman in said pictures. She was tall, blond, and slender. “These photos were taken right around the target time period, and they look like surveillance photos to me.”
Luke’s brow furrowed. “You think the two were involved?”
“From this image . . .” She pointed to one of them on a picnic, the woman’s head in a young Ebeid’s lap, Ebeid staring down at her with loved-filled eyes.
“We need to find out who that woman is,” Luke said.
“No need.”
Kate startled, and she turned to see David standing behind Luke. What was up with these stealthy spies?
“David.” Luke moved to shake the man’s hand. “You know this woman?”
“Yes. Her legend was Caroline Ladew.”
Luke arched a brow. “Legend?”
David nodded. “She was working for your Agency.”
“She was CIA?”
“She was a field agent, and an excellent one at that.”
“Was?”
“Ebeid killed her, and then discovered the biggest surprise of his life.”
31
Griffin and Finley entered the small but cozy reading room at the Brightview Senior Living Community in Ellicott City, Maryland. There were numerous Brightview facilities throughout the state, and as far as senior-living facilities went, Griffin had heard nothing but good things about them.
The facility was beautiful, clean, and well kept, and based on his interaction with the staff over the phone, and now in person, they appeared knowledgeable and compassionate.
Miss Sally, as the lady in her upper fifties and with a distinct southern drawl had introduced herself, led them to the room where Veronica Hood was reading.
“Roni,” Miss Sally said, “you have some visitors.”
The woman’s sparkling green eyes lit. “Do I?”
Though her face was wrinkled, she was strikingly beautiful with gray hair styled in a fashionable twist knot. However, he’d bet money her hair had been brown in her youth.
Like all of Hood’s victims, she was petite—maybe about five-foot-four, one-hundred and twenty pounds at most. Now to see if she was the overbearing sort.
He squeezed Finley’s hand before letting go and stepping forward to greet Joel Hood’s mother.
Veronica smiled as she slid her Kate Spade glasses on—the fashion knowledge courtesy of Finley. “My, aren’t you a handsome visitor?” Veronica said. “And”—she looked past Griffin at his wife—“a beautiful young lady.” She set her book aside. “Have we met before?”
“No, ma’am,” Griffin said.
“And polite as well.” She shook her head. “I always tried to raise my Joel with manners, but he required constant reminding. Such an inept boy. Just like his father.”
Ouch. Most definitely an overbearing mother.
“Joel . . . your son?” Griffin said, sitting beside Finley on the floral love seat facing Veronica Hood.
“Do you know my Joel?” Veronica asked.
“We had the pleasure of meeting him in Texas,” Finley said.
“He likes it down there. Only comes home to visit twice a year.” She certainly didn’t seem pleased with that.
“On special occasions?” Finley asked.
“Well, he claims his May trip is for my birthday, but I know it’s really for her.”
“Her?” Griffin asked, scooting forward on the loveseat.
“Stacey,” Veronica said with a touch of disdain, her teeth—stained by time—clenched.
“And Stacey is . . . ?” Finley gently pressed.
“She was Joel’s college sweetheart,” Veronica said.
“And he still comes back to visit her?” Griffin asked, though he feared there was a far darker dynamic at play.
“Oh no,” Veronica said, swishing her hand as if swatting away an unwanted insect. “Stacey went missing right before the end of Joel’s junior year in college.”
“In May?”
“Yes. Early May. The sixth. At least he’s always here for the sixth. Sometimes he comes a few days before and stays through the sixth. And sometimes he comes on the sixth and remains a few days after to visit, but he’s always here on the sixth.”
“And your birthday is?” Griffin asked, wondering why she was so confident Joel’s visits weren’t for her birthday.
“Not until the end of the month,” she said. “The twenty-eighth. Oh, he says work is always more hectic at the end of the month. That’s his excuse for coming earlier, but I know it’s a farce. He comes for the anniversary of when she went missing. It’s for her. After they met, everything became about her.”
He was coming back to celebrate the anniversary of murdering his girlfriend. Griffin stiffened. What a sicko. “And the other time of year he visits?” he inquired before they got knee-deep in questions about Stacey and the thread got dropped. Always best to be thorough, and Veronica had said Joel came twice a year.
“Christmas,” she said. “He comes the twenty-fourth and leaves the twenty-sixth. But I suppose at least he comes. Most folks here have no one at all at Christmastime. No one even brings them a gift.” She shook her head. “Shame on their family members. It’s not right. After all the work we do raising them, they just ignore us as we get older. At least Joel comes twice a year.”
“Is Joel your only child?”
“Yes.”
So that aspect of the profile had been correct.
“Is Joel married?” He’d hoped not, for a myriad of reasons.
“No. He never married. Poor thing. He was going to propose, and then Stacey went missing. He was heartbroken.”
“He told you he was going to propose?”
“Yes. He begged me to give him my mother’s ring, but he came back that night and was never quite the same. Stacey went missing a few days later.” She clutched her bony fingers together, wringing her hands. “I tried talking to him, but when pressed, he just said she never showed up for their date the night he planned to propose.” She sniffed and rolled her eyes in disdain. “Of course, I knew that was not the case. He was heartbroken over her
disappearance. Most assumed something bad happened to her, but I think she ran off with the man she was seeing behind Joel’s back.”
“Stacey was cheating on him?”
“He didn’t know, but I did.”
Griffin was a bit afraid to ask how, but it was crucial information. “How did you know?”
“We come from money.” Veronica smiled. “Lots of it. When I realized Joel was getting serious about Stacey, I had someone keep tabs on her.”
“Someone?”
“Yes, Albert. He is our estate manager and serves a variety of essential duties.”
“And he saw Stacey with another man?” Finley asked.
“Oh, yes. Intimately with another man.”
“Did you tell Joel?” Griffin asked.
Veronica’s hand shifted to her purple blouse as she clutched the linen fabric. “Oh no. I would never harm him like that.”
“But weren’t you concerned about him marrying her?” Finley asked, his wife’s thoughts no doubt mirroring his own. Was it possible the mother had Stacey removed from their lives?
“Albert reported that Stacey actually had shown up the night Joel planned to propose. She turned him down, of course, so I decided not to hurt him further by telling him about the other man. But, honestly, I couldn’t blame her.”
Griffin tried not to gape. She didn’t blame Stacey for cheating on her son? “Why’s that?”
“Because she and I were very much alike. Joel didn’t deserve her.”
This woman was beautiful on the outside, but absolutely cruel on the inside.
“Did he date again?” Finley asked. “I mean, did he recover?”
“Oh yes. He dated here and there, but to this day, I don’t think he’s had another serious girlfriend. Then again, his work consumes him.”
And his murders.
“It seems we’ve gotten off track,” Veronica said, patting her styled gray hair. “As I was saying, at least Joel visits and brings gifts for my birthday and at Christmas. They are never worthwhile, but he rarely does much that is.”
Definitely overbearing.
“That must have been hard as a mother,” Finley said, “having a son who didn’t excel.”