“Are you in town long?” Meaning, was Emmett going to be breathing down Drew’s neck this mission.
“No idea,” Emmett said. “I’ll be here as long as it takes. How’s Staci?”
“As well as can be expected. She’s shaken and locked up safely at my place.”
“Take good care of her. Staci’s one of my favorites. Always has been. Sweet girl.”
Drew was in no mood to listen to Emmett sing Staci’s praises. He was too damn worried. “Staci suspects Beto Bevilacqua is behind this.”
Emmett paused, looking as if he was considering the idea. “This isn’t his usual MO.”
Drew held Emmett’s piercing gaze. “Definitely RIOT, then?”
“That’s our best guess. We’re trying to track down the shooter.” Emmett paused. “Don’t let this take your head out of the game. Stick to your mission. It’s delicate enough as it is. Let us handle this attack on Staci.
“We need the Fisherman to lead us to the Gardener and get them both before either can pass the satellite secrets to RIOT. It’s time we brought down this whole Pacific Northwest RIOT operation before they cause worldwide chaos.”
Drew blew out a breath. “But why attack Staci? Has the Fisherman threatened to back out or gone off plan?”
“Not that we know of.”
Drew frowned. “Could Staci know something? Something she doesn’t even know she knows? Since we separated, she’s been spending more time with her mom and Sam.”
“Find out,” Emmett said.
“I need to be able to let her out of the house without worrying she’ll end up dead.”
“Then make sure she’s safe. I’ll do what I can on my end.” Emmett paused. “Be kind to Staci. Make her happy. She went through hell for you in Ciudad.”
As if Drew didn’t know that.
Emmett looked up at the sky and watched a western tanager fly by. “You didn’t see what she looked like when we found her.”
Drew balled his fists and took a deep breath. No, he hadn’t seen her. Thank God. He’d have killed Bevilacqua on the spot. Fortunately for the Brazilian Bevil, Drew had been miles away in surgery, fighting for his life. It had been days before he’d been well enough to go to Staci’s hospital room and see her. Even prettied up, she’d looked fragile, bruised, and broken. Drew’d had the same urge to kill Beto then.
Emmett was still watching the slow-moving red, yellow, and black bird as it landed in a tree. “They tortured her with spiders, you know.”
No, he didn’t know for sure, only suspected. It was just like Emmett to drop that bomb on him now. Staci had always been afraid of spiders.
“Brazilian wandering spiders. Most lethal in the world. Ugly bastards, too.
“After all the beating and threats, that’s when she cracked and told them you mentioned you’d be in Minga Guazú that night. Remember, she never did reveal that you and Jack worked for us.”
Yeah, he remembered and was proud of her. She’d nearly lost her life protecting him.
But damn that bastard, Bevilacqua! Drew felt like punching something. Instead he hung on to his self-control, barely. He never should have mentioned, even in passing, that he and Jack were going to Minga Guazú that night. It didn’t mean anything to Staci so he thought it wouldn’t matter. He had no idea Bevilacqua even knew she existed, let alone would come after her. He still didn’t know how Bevilacqua had found her or discovered she was his wife.
“A woman like that’s worth hanging on to,” Emmett said.
“She doesn’t want me to hang on to her, as you say. She’s made that pretty clear.”
“Have you tried to convince her you want her back?”
Drew raised a brow. “I don’t see the point. She’s agreed to pretend we’re back together until the danger’s passed. Once Staci’s safe and we have the Fisherman, I am going to finalize this divorce.”
Drew was in direct defiance of Emmett’s wishes, but he didn’t give a damn. Emmett believed ex-spouses were a liability, a security leak waiting to happen. He could just go to hell. Once this was over, Drew wasn’t putting Staci in danger again.
* * *
Staci stared at the phone on the table before her, peeved as well as scared. No way could Drew order her around, fake happily reunited husband or not. The word obey hadn’t been in their wedding vows. She’d call when she felt like it. Right now she didn’t feel up to either talking or the lying it required.
Lying. She shuddered. All she wanted was an honest life. One where no one killed for the truth and the truth didn’t kill anyone.
She sat in her chair, deflated, contemplative. She was right back where she’d been these past years—living the life of lying that Drew had tricked her into.
She’d been a naive fool, falling hard for him from the minute they met. He was so genuine and true. Just the type of man she’d always dreamed of—smart, handsome, funny, adventurous, honest. By the time they married, he was everything to her. She couldn’t imagine not loving him passionately and sharing her innermost thoughts with him for the rest of her life.
Then came the day about a year into their marriage when her rose-colored glasses shattered and she discovered what Drew really was—a spy and a professional liar. Watching the man you love fall from the pedestal you’ve put him on was a horror she wouldn’t wish on anyone. She didn’t know him and couldn’t believe him. Who was he really? What part of himself did he keep from her? Why hadn’t she left him then, before he dragged her into his world of intrigue?
It was her own fault. She never should have begged him to take her with him on a mission. Never should have pleaded to go with him to the notorious city of smugglers and drug lords, Ciudad del Este, Paraguay.
But it had all sounded so romantic and adventurous. Drew had tucked her away in a sweet little apartment of her own, keeping her secret and safe from the world. Hiding her someplace where her inability to lie didn’t matter. He had his own apartment and kept up a cover identity separate from her. She never knew any of the details of it, not even where his apartment was.
It was safer for Staci not to know anything. Drew told her that if anyone ever found them out, she should claim to be his American mistress. No one of importance.
She sighed, remembering beautiful, hot spring nights in Paraguay with Drew. And the intoxication of having a clandestine affair with her husband.
Handsome, dark, cocky Jack Pierce with his slightly crooked nose, their friend from Seattle, accompanied Drew on the mission. He was the only other person in Paraguay who knew she was really Drew’s wife, and where she lived.
He stopped by, hung out, drank, complained about the chaotic traffic through town, and shot the breeze with Drew several evenings a week at her flat during the month she was there. The consummate considerate guest, Jack often came bearing a hostess gift, something he’d gotten from the smugglers’ markets—knockoff designer perfumes and sunglasses, pirated DVDs, a new memory card for her camera, all trinkets sold on the streets.
“You treat me better than Drew does,” Staci teased him, shooting a sidelong glance at her husband.
“I know better than to waste good money on that cheap crap,” Drew said.
Jack shrugged, a twinkle in his eye. “I have to buy something. It’s the price of admission to get through the streets.
“It’s just a shame you don’t smoke or snort coke, Staci,” Jack said. “Everyone’s pushing contraband cigarettes and drugs out there. It’s a pain fighting them all off.”
“Yeah, what a shame.” She shook her head.
“You know, you really should let me get you a nice AK-47. For when that one’s not around.” He nodded toward Drew. “In case trouble comes calling. I’d get you a good price.”
Staci shook her head again. “I bet you would. But I think it’s overkill. I have no idea how to use one.”
“Oh, they’re just point and shoot, really. Why do you think all the terrorists love them?”
Jack liked weapons. Actually, Jack loved we
apons. Staci had a feeling, though she didn’t know for sure, that Jack was trained as a sniper.
Another time, Jack tossed her a plain brown bag he’d brought with him. “A little something for the man of the house, though I think you’ll enjoy it, too.” He winked at her.
Staci looked in the bag and pulled out a pack of pills with Viagra spelled wrong on the box. She sputtered and started to laugh.
Drew’s expression remained neutral. Staci could see him plotting a revenge prank.
Jack grinned. “It was only a matter of time before I had to break down and buy something pharmaceutical off the street.”
Drew ripped the pills out of her hand. “Counterfeit Viagra? This stuff is probably ninety percent coke. Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m always looking for innovative ways to kill. But I don’t practice on friends.” He clapped Drew on the back. “Still, if I did, at least you’d go with a smile on your face.”
Jack was joking about killing people, of course he was. He was always joking.
Staci sighed. Jack. It’s so hard to believe you’re gone.
After Jack’s death, his widow, Willow, moved from Seattle, across Washington State, to a small town. Willow said she wanted to go somewhere safe, somewhere that nothing sinister or adventurous ever happened.
Staci swallowed a lump. She and Willow weren’t as close as they used to be. Staci felt too guilty about what had happened to Jack.
Whether it was tortured out of her or not, she’d told Beto the area where Jack and Drew were headed that fateful night. Why hadn’t she lied? Made something up?
Beto had called head drug lord Jose Carlos Meano and told him where to find them. One of Meano’s men tossed a bomb into the room. Drew escaped and was hospitalized. Jack was blown up.
Staci’s hands trembled. She put her head in her hand, forcing her thoughts back to mundane matters at hand. Anything to forget.
She wondered whether Drew expected her to call her lawyer and temporarily put a stop to the divorce proceedings. She glanced at a James Bond calendar on the wall and checked the date.
James Bond calendar. Nice, Drew. Very tongue-in-cheek.
Less than two weeks until the court appointment when they were supposed to finalize things.
She drummed her fingers on the table. What were the odds this would all be wrapped up by then so they could still get their divorce as scheduled? The thought of more legal fees made her cringe. Emmett and the US government better be ready to pony them up.
In the meantime, she was stuck in this dump. She looked around the room. She wasn’t his maid, but she couldn’t live in this disaster zone. Drew wasn’t usually this messy. Messy, yes. This messy, no. What had gotten into him? She hardly dared to think he was distraught over her. Then again, he had shown up wearing her favorite shirt.
She frowned and shook her head. No way.
She stood, ready to go upstairs and change into something more comfortable before tackling the heavy picking up and cleaning. Her feet were killing her and her belt was beginning to constrict like a corset. She pulled the belt off and slung it over her shoulder. She’d just slipped her shoes off and bent to pick them up when a knock on the door nearly gave her a heart attack.
Bevilacqua!
She froze and looked around for a weapon.
Oh, fine, Drew hasn’t shown me where any of his real spy gizmos are. It’s probably too much to hope he really does have a bulletproof invisible wall.
The belt in her hand was high quality and had a nice buckle. Not quite heavy enough to do much damage. Someone with more muscles than she had could probably use it to strangle another person with. She didn’t plan on getting that close to one of the Bevil’s henchmen. Not ever again. She’d defy Drew and jump out a window rather than let that happen.
Before she could develop a fully formed self-defense-and-escape plan, the doorbell chimed. And chimed. And chimed.
Wait a minute—Bevilacqua wouldn’t ring the doorbell. Come to think of it, he wouldn’t knock, either. He’d just shoot his way in.
Relieved, Staci inhaled deeply. New plan—ignore whoever it was and they’d go away. Staci started toward the stairs just as her uninvited doorbell ringer began an all-out assault, adding a series of door-shaking knocks to his unmusical repertoire. She froze.
Burglars!
What a crappy day. First being shot at and now this. Daytime burglars used this tactic to make sure no one was home before they broke in. She had to defend her territory and herself. Besides, she wanted her half of that monster TV in the living room. Between the pounding and her panic, she couldn’t think straight. How to stop them?
Yell at them to go away? Throw her sharp, heeled shoes at the door? Bash them with her belt buckle if they broke through? How many was she up against?
Drew would know what to do. Why wasn’t he here!
She tiptoed to the door, and peeked out the peephole while deciding her next course of action just as the urban assault on her door stopped.
Her stepdad stood on the stoop, holding a box of some kind. He was just turning to leave.
Staci let out a heavy breath and frowned, trying to calm her nerves. It was only Sam. Without thinking, she threw open the door to stop him. “Sam?”
He froze, looking confused, going pale as recognition crossed his face. “Staci? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you!” She was stunned to see him. He’d never just dropped by before. “What are you doing here, hammering our doorbell like a madman?” She studied him. “I must’ve really startled you. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Just embarrassed by my bad behavior.” Sam grinned sheepishly. “Your doorbell? I thought this was Drew’s place and you were at the house?”
She didn’t reply.
He held the box out toward her. “Sorry to scare you. I thought Drew was ignoring me on purpose to get me to go away.”
He cleared his throat and looked apologetic. “Your mom’s been at me to return this stuff to him. Says I’ve had it way too long. Now that Drew’s no longer going to be part of the family…”
Staci stared at the box. She recognized some of Drew’s tools and a couple of movies and video games.
Sam was a notorious borrower. And totally irresponsible about returning things.
Her next awful thought stopped her cold. Was she the last to know about Drew’s condo? She frowned. “How did you know he’s moved back and lives here?”
“I just found out.” Sam looked sheepish. “Mind if I come in and set this down?”
She moved out of the way to let him in and pointed to the kitchen table. “Go ahead and set it there.”
He nodded. “I stopped by Drew’s parents’ house first. I thought that’s where you said he was staying. His mom pointed me this way.
“She barely had time to talk to me, too busy packing. His folks are heading out on a Caribbean cruise tomorrow. Nothing stops those two from their vacations. They’ll be gone several weeks.”
That sounded exactly like Drew’s parents. Staci nodded, looking at her silver-haired stepfather. She guessed you could call Sam good looking for an older man, or maybe distinguished. Tall, slender, and well groomed, he’d stayed in decent shape. But Staci always found him a bit too slick for her tastes, and way too much of an engineer. He was dressed casually in dark jeans, a polo shirt, and black tennis shoes.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked.
“Taking a long, late lunch today to run some errands. Been putting in a lot of extra hours lately.” Sam set the box down and surveyed the surroundings.
She felt her face go warm. “Excuse the mess! I just got here and was about to change and start cleaning up. Drew isn’t much of a bachelor.”
Sam cocked his head and studied her. “Just got here? Cleaning up after him? What’s this all about? Do you mean to say you’re back with him?”
She froze. “Yes. Just.”
Her face became so warm she was su
re she was blushing for real now. Lying always did that to her.
“But why aren’t you at the house?” He looked rightfully confused.
She gulped. “We … we…” She bit her lip. Her mind went blank. Why hadn’t Drew told her what to say rather than joking around?
“We thought we’d stay here for a while before we move Drew back. A change of scenery. Neutral territory. No bad memories. That sort of thing.” She nodded, feeling her face grow warmer.
“Drew’s already paid the rent this month. We may as well get some use out of the place.” She forced a smile. The lie hadn’t exactly rolled off her tongue. Nor did the condo look like the ideal spot for a romantic reunion.
Sam gave her a pitying look and came over and gave her a hug. She accepted it stiffly. Sam’s hugs always felt a bit more like a feeling-up than strictly platonic comfort. What did her mother see in the man? Staci pulled away.
Sam frowned down at her. “Don’t take this wrong.” He looked as if he was measuring his words for a fatherly lecture.
Staci hated it when he tried to go parental on her. Sam was not her father. Never would be, never mind how he’d swooped in and assumed her late father’s wife and life.
Sam had been her father’s best friend, his confirmed-bachelor buddy who often went on family camping and fishing trips with them when Staci was young. After her father died, he married her mother, which gave Staci the creeps. Had Sam been waiting for his opportunity all that time? Had something more been going on between those two behind her father’s back all those years?
Her mother claimed it was their mutual love of her father and sense of loss that brought her and Sam together. Staci wasn’t so sure she believed her.
She clenched her teeth to keep from saying something she shouldn’t.
“You know your mom and I want you to be happy,” Sam continued. “But leopards don’t change their spots, honey.”
Now he has to go patronizing on me, too? She worked at not frowning.
“Whatever Drew’s promised you about changing may sound sincere now, but—”
“He is sincere!” About reconciling until he catches the sniper. But at this point Staci would have contradicted anything Sam said. She lifted her chin. “He quit the job he loved just to prove it to me. He’s promised to be home more so we can work out our issues.”