Текст книги "Secrets"

Автор книги: Cynthia Eden

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

He’d stitch that wound up himself once he was clear. Another scar to join the others that marked his body. Another wound that she would pay for.

His bloody fingers curved around the handlebars. A glance over his shoulder showed him the billowing black smoke that was rising into the air.

I need to make sure she’s gone.

He wasn’t about to leave Jennifer’s death to chance. He drove the motorcycle back toward that smoke. He saw the wreckage. The flames.

But no blood. No bodies. No sign of Jennifer or her hero at all.

Chapter Four

“You could have been killed!”

Brodie had finally stopped their mad, frantic race away from the flames. They were back near the horses, and the animals neighed when they saw Brodie.

He grabbed her arm, his grip tight and his face angry. She tensed. “The car was wired to explode,” Brodie snapped. “If you had lingered inside for just a few seconds more—”

“I’d be dead,” Jennifer finished as her breath heaved out. “Right, I get it.” He didn’t need to scare her with what-if scenarios, since she was already pretty terrified as it was.

His gaze fell to her hand and the manila envelope that she clutched. “You really think whatever is in there—you think it was worth dying for?” Before she could answer, he shook his head. “I didn’t think I’d get to you in time.”

“Brodie—”

“I was afraid.” His words were whispered now, but his eyes were still bright with fury. “In my mind, I saw you dying right in front of me.”

Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a soft, light kiss. It was a kiss of desperation. Passionate. Wild with need.

She leaned toward him and kissed him back just as fervently. She’d been afraid—for him—when those bullets started flying.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Brodie whispered against her lips as his head rose a bit. “Don’t.”

Jennifer couldn’t give him a promise that she might not be able to keep.

He drew a ragged breath. His mouth came toward hers again. She rose up, leaned into him—

And he yanked the envelope right from her hand.

No! “Brodie—”

He ripped open the envelope. A black-and-white photograph spilled out. As soon as she saw the image, Jennifer knew her carefully constructed world was about to fall apart.

Because it was an image of her, an image that had been taken years ago. She was standing beside Brodie’s mother, standing right outside the McGuire ranch house.

She knew exactly when that image must have been snapped. Because despite what Brodie believed, she had visited the McGuire ranch in the past.

She’d been there...days before both of Brodie’s parents had been killed.

His fingers whitened around the picture. “It’s a fake.” His voice was a hoarse rasp, one that she barely recognized.

There was so much pain on his face.

She wouldn’t lie to him—couldn’t lie, not then.

“It’s a fake,” he said again, but this time his gaze flew up to meet hers.

Jennifer shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

Shock came first, then anger. Betrayal. “What is going on?” Brodie demanded.

Seeing that picture, knowing that she’d been tracked to the home of Brodie’s parents, Jennifer just couldn’t keep up the lies. Not when he’d been seconds away from dying. Because he was saving me. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“I’m figuring that out.”

But he was learning the truth...too late.

* * *

FOUR ANGRY MCGUIRE men glared at Jennifer. She was back at the McGuire Securities office. Davis hadn’t seen any sign of the man on the motorcycle. He and Brodie had searched the area, but they’d turned up nothing.

And then they’d taken her in for questioning.

Like I’m the criminal.

Maybe...maybe she was.

Grant McGuire was seated behind his desk. From her research, she already knew he was the eldest McGuire brother. His eyes raked over her, and his face was a stone mask. Grant was the former army ranger. The one who’d first formed McGuire Securities after he’d left the military. From what she’d learned about Grant, the man was a force to be reckoned with and definitely not someone you’d want as an enemy.

It’s a pity he seems to be my enemy now.

Mackenzie “Mac” McGuire stood to the right of Grant. He was the one who’d been in Delta Force. When he spoke, his voice was clipped, hard. He looked like the other McGuires—same green eyes, same handsome but hard features. Same glare at her.

Davis and Brodie were to the left of Grant. Brodie was glaring at her, and Davis, well, he kept casting nervous glances at his twin.

She felt rather nervous when she looked at Brodie, too.

“Ms. Wesley,” Grant’s voice was smooth, totally lacking emotion. “There’s a date and time stamp on this image.”

Yes, unfortunately, there was.

“You visited our parents just days before their death. That was a visit that none of us were aware of.”

That had rather been the point. Secret visits were supposed to be secret.

“Why?” Brodie rasped. “Why did you see them?”

She took a bracing breath. The why was actually easy enough. The rest of the story would be the gut-wrenching part. “Because you saved me.”

His brows shot up. “What?”

“You risked your life to save mine. After what you did for me, did you honestly think I’d walk away without trying to repay you?” I always pay my debts. Her gaze slid to the picture. Brodie’s mother had been a lovely woman. Kind and friendly. And Brodie had gotten his dimples from her.

“How did you even find my mother?” Brodie stalked around the desk and came toward her. “You only had my first name. You wouldn’t have been given clearance to a SEAL’s files.”

“I have more clearance than you know.” Her clearance was a big part of the problem. Her hands tightened around the arms of her chair. “You risked your life for me. I just wanted to...to show you I was grateful. I found your parents. I offered them—”

“Money?” Davis supplied.

“Yes.” Because money had been all that she could offer them. She’d been paid well for the work that she’d done over the years, so she’d wanted to give that money to someone who deserved it.

“How much?” Brodie gritted out.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

His eyes widened. “And my parents took the money?”

“Not at first.” At first, his mother had been shocked. She’d been adamant that her son had just been doing his job. But... “Something changed. I was only in town for two days. I told her to call me if she changed her mind. I tried to convince her to keep the money. She could use it for the ranch. For her retirement. Something.” And she wouldn’t feel so guilty for the risks Brodie had taken. “An hour before I was scheduled to leave, she called me at my hotel. She wanted the money, but she needed it to be in cash.”

Brodie’s brows climbed. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“It’s true!”

“My mom didn’t need money! The ranch was fine. My brothers and I—we always sent her money. She wouldn’t take that kind of cash from a stranger.”

A desperate woman will do anything. The last time she’d seen Brodie’s mother, nervous tension had clung to the woman.

“I got her the cash. I delivered it to her at the ranch.” Her gaze slid to the photograph on the desk. “That’s when that image must have been taken. The bag in her hand? That’s what I put the cash in.”

He whirled back toward the photo. Silence filled that room, stretching uncomfortably.

When Jennifer lifted her gaze, she found Grant staring straight at her with an unreadable gaze.

“Do you know who killed our parents?” Grant asked her, his voice quiet.

Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t even find out they were dead until...until a few months ago.” When her stalker had appeared. When she’d realized there was a very short list of people who could help her, people she could trust.

Brodie had been at the top of that list.

So she’d started researching her onetime hero, and then she’d learned about the tragedy that had wrecked his family.

After she’d given the money to Brodie’s mother, Jennifer had left Austin and been flown straight to Paris. Another assignment waited, and she hadn’t been able to look back.

If she had...could she have changed the fate of Brodie’s parents? Even since seeing that black-and-white photo, a new fear had risen within Jennifer. Had they died because of her? Had she taken danger right to them?

“I didn’t make the connection between their deaths and me,” Jennifer whispered. “Not until I saw the photograph. I didn’t think anyone knew what I’d done. I tried to be so careful.” Her heart hurt in her chest. If she was truly the cause of all the pain that Brodie had been through, when she’d just wanted to help him...

“Why would you need to be careful?” This time, it was Mac who spoke as he stepped forward. He’d been so still before, but she’d been aware of a wild intensity that seemed to cling to him. His eyes—a shade lighter than Brodie’s—narrowed on her. “Who cares if a society princess visits a ranch in Texas? Why would that matter to anyone?”

If she had been just a society princess, then it wouldn’t have mattered. Her gaze sought Brodie’s. This was the moment she’d dreaded. “I’m not who you think I am.”

He closed the distance between them once more and seemed to surround her. “Tell me something I haven’t already figured out.”

He stared at her as if she were a stranger. To him, she probably was.

Sometimes, I feel like a stranger to myself. “When you found me in that little room...when my captors took me, I wasn’t being held because someone wanted to ransom me.” The breath that she inhaled seemed to chill her lungs. “I was being held because someone had found out that I was working undercover for the US government. My cover was blown, and they were going to kill me.”

Brodie shook his head. “No, your father—”

“Nate. Nate Wesley.” She said his name softly as she pictured him in her mind, dressed in his expensive suit, a gold ring flashing on his pinkie finger. Oh, but he’d been perfect in the role of her father. “I’ve never been a society princess, but I was picked to play that part. Just as Nate was picked to play the role of an oil magnate.” She smiled at him, and the smile felt sad on her lips. “All intel isn’t gathered on the battlefield. Sometimes, secrets are shared in boardrooms and ballrooms. A cover was made for me. A cover was made for the man who acted as my father. We were given missions to complete, jobs to do.” And they’d done them. Again and again.

Jennifer nervously wet her lips. “After you rescued me, I had one job to complete in Paris. I did it, and I got out of the business.”

“Spies don’t just get out of the business.” Grant was studying her with calculation. “It’s never that easy.”

A spy. Yes, for all intents and purposes, she’d been a spy. “Nate and I were expected to be in certain circles. Certain wealthy, connected circles. If you lose your wealth, well, to the people who moved in that world, you were dead. They immediately cut you from their lives. To get out of that cover...reports were leaked that Nate was losing his wealth.” Only Nate had wanted to carry things one step further. He’d wanted to sever all ties to his former life. “Then he had the...accident...on his boat.”

“I’ll be damned.” Mac paced to the window. “Is he even dead?”

She wasn’t about to reveal any more intel on Nate. He had a new life somewhere. A new wife. She wasn’t going to draw him back into this nightmare.

“The man on the phone...” Brodie’s voice was low and hard. “He said you killed your father.”

“He’s wrong.”

“Or you’re lying,” he threw right back.

Jennifer flinched, but she’d expected his attack. His rage was palpable. I knew he’d feel betrayed. The last thing she’d wanted to do was hurt him.

“I mean, you’ve lied to me before, right? So how do I know you’re not lying right now?”

Their gazes locked. He was leaning over, so close that she could see the flecks of gold hidden in the green of his eyes.

“Why did you even seek me out?” Brodie demanded. “Are you being stalked or is this some giant setup? Hell...that hit-and-run, the gunshots today—they were aimed at me, not you, weren’t they?”

What? Was Brodie seriously suggesting that she was somehow setting him up to die? She put her hands against his chest and shoved back. “Stop it!” She jumped to her feet.

But Brodie blocked her path before she could storm away. “Why did you come to find me?”

“Because you were the only one I could trust!” Jennifer basically yelled her confession at him. “I’m not in the business any longer. That means I’m pretty much dead and buried to the government contacts I had before. The whole deny-all-knowledge bit, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. And the friends I made back then? When I was the oil magnate’s daughter? How fast do you think they vanished when word got out that the business was broke?”

A muscle jerked in his jaw.

“You saved me before. You risked your life. You showed me that you could handle dangerous situations. I believed that I could trust you.” He hadn’t been working a secret agenda. She had. “When my back was against the wall, I needed someone I could depend on to help me. I thought that person was you.” Her spine straightened. “But I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry I bothered you. You won’t be seeing me again.”

She turned from him and took two steps. Before she could take a third, his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her back against the hard expanse of his chest. “You don’t get to vanish that easily.” His words were a whisper against her ear, and she recognized them for the threat that they were.

Her eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know anything about your parents’ death. I can’t help you.”

When he turned her in his arms, Jennifer forced her eyes to open.

“What happened to the fifty grand?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did they need the money?”

He could ask those questions all day long, but her answer would still be the same. “I don’t know. I didn’t question your mother. I just gave her the money and left.”

He stared at her as if she were a stranger. I’m not, Brodie, I’m not!

“If I knew, I would tell you. Do you honestly think I’d lie to protect some killer?”

When he didn’t answer but just stared back at her, Jennifer’s eyes darkened even more with her own growing fury. “For years, I worked to protect people. I risked my life to put criminals away—criminals who dealt in arms trades, drugs. I put everything I had into my job.” Until she’d felt there was nothing left of her to give. “I would never protect a killer.”

He had no clue about what her life had been like. By the time he’d burst into that little room, she’d been playing the role of Jennifer Wesley for so long that she didn’t know how to be anyone else. She’d felt hollowed out, empty.

And she’d been moments away from her own death.

Then Brodie had appeared. He’d offered her escape. Life. A second chance.

Behind Brodie, Grant cleared his throat. “You came to McGuire Securities because you had a stalker after you.”

There was no past tense. The guy was still chasing her down. The near death by explosion she’d experienced that morning should be proof of that.

“‘I know,’” Brodie whispered. He shook his head. “That’s what he meant by that picture, right? The guy knows you aren’t really Jennifer Wesley. He knows what you did for the government.”

She was afraid that he did.

Brodie’s hold tightened on her. “He took the picture of you at the ranch years ago. If he was following you then, that maniac could be the one who killed our parents.”

“Brodie, I’m—”

He yanked his hands back, as if she’d burned him. “If he saw you pay them fifty grand, then he could have thought they were working with you. That they were involved in your undercover missions. The hit on them always looked professional.”

Mac swore.

Her gaze flew around the room, and she saw that Davis had frozen—no, his body had frozen, but his eyes were blazing with emotion.

“The man watching you could have killed them because he thought they had intel on you.”

She hated the torment in his voice. “If all of this is true...then why didn’t he come after me sooner? If he wanted me dead for all these years, then why did he wait?”

His eyes glittered. “I guess that’s a question we’ll have to ask the SOB...when we catch him.”

* * *

SHE WAS BACK at the ranch, only this time, Jennifer sure wasn’t feeling like a welcome guest. Grant and his brothers had grilled her for most of the day. She’d told them as much as she could without revealing classified information.

She knew Grant was using some of his government contacts to try and corroborate her story. She’d tried to tell him that he’d get no corroboration. She’d been too deep undercover to have official records at the government agencies.

Denial is the only rule they’ll follow.

Nervous energy hummed through her as she paced in front of the fireplace. Brodie had been so distant with her. And she didn’t blame him. She’d known that when the truth came out, he’d turn from her.

So she’d grabbed tightly to him last night. Taken the pleasure and let the fear go.

That fear was back with a vicious force now.

“I’m heading out.”

She whirled toward him. She hadn’t even heard the guy approach.

“The police are done with their crime scene analysis at the bomb site, and they found nothing.” His hands were clenched at his sides. “I’m going for a look myself. They could have overlooked something, and if they did, I’ll find it.”

Her chin lifted. “I’m coming with you.”

“Jennifer—”

“Give me a weapon, and I can guard your back. I’m far from helpless.”

“I never thought you were. I wouldn’t make that mistake.”

His words dug into her like bullets. “I want to catch this guy just as badly as you do.”

He held her gaze.

“I’m coming with you,” she said again, and, after a hesitation that lasted too long, he finally gave a grim nod.

They didn’t talk on the way to the stables. As soon as she walked in, the scent of fresh hay hit her. The horses neighed at her approach. She brought her mare forward, the same horse she’d ridden before, and the black beauty bumped her nose against Jennifer.

“Lady,” Brodie muttered. “Her name’s Lady. She used to be Ava’s horse, until Ava got so terrified of this place that she couldn’t come home.”

Jennifer stroked Lady’s mane.

“Ava was only sixteen when she came home and saw our parents’ murder. She told me...Ava thought they were going to kill her, too, but she ran away. Managed to make it to the Montgomery ranch—they’re our only neighbors within miles out here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “When the cops couldn’t find any leads, gossip started spreading that Ava wasn’t a victim. That she’d been in on the killings all along.”

Her heart ached for him—for Ava.

“We’re going to prove that Ava is innocent. And the people who killed my family—they’re going to spend the rest of their lives in prison, if they don’t get the death penalty.”

He took out his own horse, controlling the steed easily. The sun was starting to set as they made their way out of the stables. Streaks of orange and gold shot across the sky. Jennifer stopped, her breath caught by the gorgeous sight.

“Ava can’t see the beauty here any longer,” Brodie said, his voice sad. “All she sees is the blood and the death.”

Jennifer’s gaze slid away from the sky and locked on him. “What do you see?”

He wasn’t looking at the setting sun. He was looking at her. “Dreams that were lost.”

Her heart seemed to stop.

“This was my safe haven. Whenever I’d come back from my missions, my tours, I knew this place would be here for me, waiting. No matter what hell I faced, my refuge was waiting for me.”

Until that refuge had been ripped away.

“Davis and I...we rebuilt the main ranch house. We didn’t want Ava to walk in and see—” He broke off, clearing his throat. “We tried to keep the good memories and get rid of the bad ones, but it just didn’t work.”

She hurt for him and all that he’d lost. “Maybe you should try making some new memories.”

He gave a grim nod even as his eyes raked over her. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to give up the life you had before and start somewhere new?”

“I didn’t really have a life before I became Jennifer Wesley.” She hadn’t meant to say that. Jennifer jumped on her horse. “We don’t have a lot of daylight left. We’d better hurry.”

“Jennifer...”

Her mare rushed forward under Jennifer’s guidance. She’d bared enough of her soul that day.

* * *

THERE WAS YELLOW police tape still up at the scene of the explosion. Brodie secured his horse and walked forward cautiously. The ground was blackened, and every time he thought about how close Jennifer had come to death—

He forced himself to take a deep breath. She’s alive.

She was also a very, very good liar.

“I want to scout around the woods, see if this guy left any other tracks.” He studied the scene around him. The stalker had driven out there on an old dirt road. He’d left the Mustang, setting it up as the perfect bait.

Then he’d waited...just waited for them to follow the signal from that phone.

Boom.

“The cops traced the motorcycle’s tracks to the main road, but the guy vanished there.” Either he’d kept going on the bike, hitting old trails and dirt roads, or he’d had another vehicle waiting for him. It would have been a simple matter to load the bike into a truck or a van and then vanish.

A simple matter...especially since they were dealing with a professional. A man who seemed to particularly enjoy fire. First her house, now the car.

What would be next?

Brodie figured the guy had stuck to the old trails. Davis had set up a watch position near the main road, but he hadn’t seen the guy on the motorcycle come roaring through. Not after the explosion.

“Stay close,” Brodie ordered Jennifer. If the guy had come back, he could be hunting them at that very moment.

He wanted to find the man. If that jerk had been responsible for killing Brodie’s parents...

I swear I will make him pay.

He’d learned to track at an early age, but when Brodie slipped into the woods near that old dirt road, he didn’t see any signs of his prey. Branches weren’t broken, and the earth wasn’t disturbed. No footprints had been left behind.

He kept searching, fanning out. Jennifer was silent as she followed him.

Guarding his back, just as she’d promised.

The sun sank deeper into the sky. The gold vanished, and the streaks of red started to look more like blood.

But still he found no trace of the stalker.

The guy is good.

That fact made him exceptionally dangerous.

“Nothing,” Brodie snapped when they went back to the horses. “The guy is a ghost.”

Jennifer’s gaze swept the area. “Ghosts can’t hurt you. It’s only the living who can do that.”

She reached for her horse’s reins, but Brodie’s hand flew out, and he caught her wrist.

“Why did you come to my bedroom last night?” Because he was starting to think that the woman was playing him, pulling him into some kind of game that he didn’t understand. He wanted to trust her, but she’d been lying to him from the start.

“Because I wanted you.” She was staring down at his hand, and his fingers tightened around her wrist. “I was tired of feeling afraid. When I’m with you, you push the fear away, at least for a little while.”

“Jennifer...” Then it hit him. Is that even her name? He dropped her wrist and stepped back. “What’s your name?”

Her head jerked up.

“Jennifer,” Brodie snapped out. “She’s just pretend. A cover. What’s your real name?”

She flinched, and what could have been guilt knifed through him because he saw the pain in her eyes. She’s been lying to you. You have to protect yourself. Protect your family.

And you have to use her to find your parents’ killers.

“Jennifer is my real name,” she whispered. “It’s easier...in the business...if you keep things simple. Keep your first name the same or close to your real one. You’re already used to answering to that name. Seems more natural.” Her gaze slid away from his. “Wesley isn’t the last name I was born with, but I’ve had it for so long that...well, the other name doesn’t matter anymore.”

She climbed onto the horse. He wasn’t about to let this go, not yet. “What about your family? Your real family. Do you ever see them?”

Her hand slid into the horse’s mane as she leaned forward. “I don’t have a family, Brodie. I spent most of my teen years bouncing from one foster home to another.” She gave a slow nod. “That’s one of the reasons I was recruited, you see. It’s better not to have close ties with anyone.”

Better?

“They gave me the option of dying.”

“What?” Shock punched him in the gut.

“I could have started with a brand-new identity, someplace else. But I thought I was safe as Jennifer Wesley. No one knew the truth about me. No one outside of my division was supposed to know.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I guess I was wrong about that.”

The sun had fallen even deeper into the sky. Jennifer shivered.

Get her in for the night. In case that maniac is out there, watching, waiting...

“Want to hear something ridiculous?”

He mounted his horse, then frowned at her.

“You knew Jennifer Wesley. If I became someone else...” Her smile was bittersweet. “Someone with a new face and a new name, then it would be as if we’d never met before.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to lose everything again.”

Then her horse rushed by him. He stared after her a moment as her words replayed in his head. Part of him was furious with her for her deception. But another part...

As if we’d never met...

Another part was determined to keep Jennifer as close as he possibly could. Brodie spurred his horse after her.

* * *

HIS PLAN HADN’T WORKED.

Brodie hadn’t turned on Jennifer. He hadn’t kicked her out, hadn’t left her to face the wolves on her own.

He’d seen the picture, but the fool must have chosen to believe whatever lies she’d spun.

Jennifer Wesley was very skilled when it came to lying. After all, he’d believed her lies, too—every word that came from her sweet lips.

Then he’d been captured, tossed into a cell, and forgotten.

Did you really think you wouldn’t have to answer for your sins against me?

He’d had eyes on her, even when they’d been an ocean away. And now that he was killing close, there truly would be no escape.

He wondered if Jennifer realized he’d just been playing with her so far, drawing out the kill.

In that alley, he’d just had to spill first blood. It was the way the game always started.

Then he’d started that fire at her home, a carefully timed explosion, but he’d known she would escape. The fire wasn’t set to kill. It was set to destroy your safe haven.

The hit-and-run outside McGuire Securities? That had been just a little taunt to let her know he was close.

He’d set the bomb in the Mustang with a time delay. He’d wanted her to get out of the vehicle and wanted Brodie McGuire to see the photograph. That image should have made Brodie cast her aside.

Then he would have moved in for the kill. Jennifer Wesley’s death would be an intimate event. He’d take her far away from the rest of world. It would be just the two of them, for days...until he ended her suffering. And he would make her suffer, just as she’d made him endure years of torture.

Jennifer Wesley’s past had come back to haunt her.

You reap what you sow.

Time to up the stakes.