Deceived (8 page)

“I wasn't sure you'd come.” Roberts stood only inches from her and rested his arms on the railing. Jennie turned to look at him, barely able to make out his features. He smelled nice and had changed from his tropical touristy look to dinner clothes—a suit—maybe a tux. In the darkness she couldn't be sure. She wondered if he still had his gun. “You shouldn't have, you know. Not alone.”

Jennie couldn't decide if he was teasing or patronizing her.

“You told me to come alone.”

“And you always do what strangers tell you?”

“Only when they're government agents with a message from my dad.”

Roberts gazed into the darkness for what seemed like forever before he spoke again. “I caught the show you did on television,” he said, his voice barely audible in the wind. “Very impressive. You've turned into quite a young lady. Your father would be proud.”

“You knew my father?”

“Jason McGrady is an old friend.”

Present tense
. The butterflies in Jennie's stomach soared.
Don't get your hopes up
, she told herself. But Jennie had to ask. She had to know. “You said
is
an old friend. Are you saying that my father is still alive?”

He didn't answer. Jennie forgot to breathe and steeled herself against what she suspected would be a negative response.

Roberts ran a hand down his face. “That's a difficult question to answer.”

“Why? He's either dead or alive. I need to know. For once and for all, I need to know.” Her voice cracked. She gripped the railing even tighter.
You are not going to cry, McGrady. You're not.
“Mr. Roberts, these last few years have been like a roller-coaster ride for me. Maybe it's just been wishful thinking, but part of me has never been able to accept Dad's death. His disappearance was like a chapter in a book without an ending. I can't close it until I have the last chapter. After I did the television interview, J.B. and Gram told me Dad had died. The government even had a witness. It wasn't what I wanted, but at least it was an ending.”

“Jennie…”

“No, let me finish.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I would have let it end there, but someone locked me in the sauna last night and then ransacked my room. The only thing missing was Dad's picture. I couldn't help but wonder why someone would want it. Part of me wants to believe Dad's still alive, but if that's true, then Gram and J.B. and the government have all lied to me. And if my father is alive, that means he has deceived me too.” Jennie bit her lip, unable to talk around the lump forming in her throat. Tears slid down her cheeks and dripped onto her evening gown.

Roberts handed her a handkerchief. “Either way you lose.”

Jennie nodded and blew her nose. “Can you tell me the truth?”

“That's why I'm here, Jennie.” Roberts moved from the railing and suggested they find a place to sit. He then led her to the dimly lighted and deserted pool deck below, where they found a couple of chairs near a patio restaurant closed for the night.

“The truth,” he said in a voice that made Jennie wonder if he even knew what it was. “There's a passage in the Bible that says, ‘You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.' I hope that's true for all of us, Jennie.”

Roberts pushed his glasses against his nose. “Before I tell you about your father, I need your word that you will keep everything I say to you confidential.”

“But…”

“No one. Not even your mother or grandmother. I believe you have a right to know what happened to your father. Actually, since you were so determined to find him, we decided it would be better for you to know than to run the risk of your pulling another stunt like you did the other day. But there are conditions. I think you'll understand when you hear what I have to say.”

Jennie reluctantly agreed.

“You were right all along. Your father is alive.”

Jennie stared at him, wishing she could see his face more dearly. She wanted to hug him and hit him at the same time. “Where is he?” she finally asked. “Can I talk to him?”

“I'm afraid I'm as close as you're going to get.” Roberts leaned back in his chair and glanced around the deck as if he expected some clandestine figure to pop out of the shadows.

“Why?” Jennie asked. “It's not fair.”

“Life isn't fair.” He leaned forward again. “Five years ago, your father risked his life on a mission to bring down a well-known corporation posing as a front for a major drug operation in the Orient. His cover was blown during a drug run from Canada into the US. He'd infiltrated this bogus company and was hired on as a pilot. Unfortunately, someone in the company had run into him before. Didn't know his name, but recognized him as an agent. The company put out a contract on him. We intercepted, but there was no way he could continue working that case—and he couldn't go home. He either had to disappear or risk putting himself, the other agents, and his family in danger.” Roberts paused and gave his head a quick shake as if to dispel an unwanted image. “Have you ever heard of the Witness Protection Program?”

Jennie nodded. “Like where people drop out of sight and are given a new identity? Is that what's happened to Dad?”

“In a way. As a DEA agent he wasn't eligible for that kind of program, but he did opt to change his identity.”

“So what happened? How did he get away?”

“We faked his death. Since he was operating under a phony name, we figured they couldn't connect him to his real family as long as he didn't go home. It worked. As far as the drug cartel was concerned, agent Kelly O'Donnell, the name he'd been using at the time, was shot accidently by his own people in a drug raid.”

“But they told us Dad was missing. That his plane went down.”

“That was because we needed two different scenarios. And it left the door open in case things settled down. Jason hoped that someday he might be able to go home.”

“That was five years ago. Why hasn't he?”

“He changed his identity, Jennie, but not his vocation. He's still an agent.” Roberts frowned. “Unfortunately, he's made a few more enemies along the way.”

“So Dad's still in danger.”

“He's changed his identity several times since then, but yes. There's always the possibility someone will recognize him. And now you're in danger as well.”

“I don't understand.”

“You know that picture you got from Debbie Cole?” Jennie nodded.

“That's what he looked like several years ago. Talk about a fiasco. That picture was supposed to have been destroyed. She must have gotten an extra copy. Anyway, that doesn't matter now. When you showed the picture on television, you blew the cork off the bottle. If the wrong people saw it…” Roberts left the sentence dangling, but Jennie felt its impact as surely as if he'd said the words aloud.

Jennie gasped. The realization of what she'd done sank in and hardened in her chest like a clump of cement. “The picture—the television program. I let the whole country know who he was, that he was still alive and that he was my father.” She hugged herself to keep from breaking in two.
What have you done? Oh, McGrady, what have you done? You not only endangered Dad's life, but the entire family.
“Mom and Nick…”

“They're okay—at least for now. We've got agents watching the house just in case. Since the program doesn't give out addresses, we're hoping no one will be able to locate them, but we have to be ready just in case. Which is one of the reasons you needed to know. Since you appeared on television as his daughter, you may be in danger as well. You'll need to be extra careful. Don't go anywhere alone.”

“This isn't all my fault, you know. Maybe if you'd told me the truth earlier it wouldn't have happened. Why couldn't we have heard what really happened five years ago?”

“We didn't want to take the chance. The fewer who know McGrady's alive, the better.”

“So you lied. It seems like the government does a lot of that. They've even got Gram lying.”

“Your grandmother didn't lie, Jennie, and neither did J.B.—at least not knowingly. All they know is what they were told.”

Relief joined all the other crazy emotions jumbling around in her head. Jennie bit her lip. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad or angry. “That's really crazy, you know. You guys even lie to your own people. How does anybody know who to trust? For that matter, how do I know I can trust you?”

Roberts stared at a spot on the table. “You don't. But I hope you will. Unfortunately there is occasionally some deception involved, but sometimes it's necessary in order to protect people. Sometimes it's habit. Your father didn't want to lie about his death. But what choice did he have?”

“He could have told us. He could have taken us along.”

“You don't know what it's like. You'd have had to walk away from your home, your family and friends—not just for a few days, weeks, or even months—but maybe forever. You'd never have seen your grandmother, or your aunt Kate or Lisa…You'd always be looking over your shoulder, never knowing if the next person you meet is going to gun you down. Jason couldn't do that to you. He loved you all too much.”

“So he decided to leave us without even asking what
we
wanted?”

“He did what he had to do.”

Jennie glared at him, wishing she could see him more clearly. Was he telling the truth? It all seemed so strange. For five years she'd been wanting to know what had happened. Now she was talking to a man who claimed to have the answers. Questions flooded her brain. Dad was a hero—giving up everything for his country—for them. Some sacrifice.

“How could anything have been more important than being with Mom, Nick, and me?” Jennie asked. “He's never even seen his own son. Nick was born after he disappeared, you know.”

Roberts nodded. “I know.”

“Maybe Mom was right all along,” Jennie mused, talking more to herself than to Roberts. “Maybe my dad was more dedicated to his job than to his wife and children. Maybe he still is.” Jennie fought against the fury whirling inside her. It wasn't Roberts' fault that all this happened, Jennie reminded herself. He was just the messenger. Still, she couldn't help asking.

“Why couldn't he have quit working for the government? Why couldn't he have waited for a while and then come back?”

Roberts rubbed his forehead, then folded his arms on the table and leaned toward her. “I don't think a day goes by when Jason doesn't ask himself that same question.”

“Does he know about Mom? She filed for a divorce because he hadn't been legally declared dead. She's planning on getting married. Doesn't he care?”

“He knows. And of course he cares. But he wants her to be happy. Now that he's been officially declared dead, she'll be free to marry again. She'll finally get some compensation from the government.” Roberts paused as if wondering whether or not to go on. When he did, it was to ask some questions of his own. “Does she love this guy, Michael? What's he like? Jason asked me to check him out. He's clean—officially. But he'll want to know more about him than that.”

Jennie bit her lip. With every word he uttered, Roberts seemed to shove the possibility of Dad's return further and further away. “Michael's okay,” she said finally. “Nick's crazy about him. But he's not Dad. Why can't Dad just come back? If he's got a new identity, no one will recognize him. Maybe he could arrange to meet Mom and date her.”

Roberts shook his head. “I'm sorry, Jennie. I wish I could tell you everything will work out the way you want. It's not that easy.”

Jennie took a deep breath. “I guess not. Still, I wish he'd…never mind.” Her father had made his choices a long time ago. Fighting over it now with Roberts was pointless. And hadn't she been the one to defend Dad all these years? He was one of the good guys—a man who laid his life on the line every day upholding the law. He was a McGrady. Just like Grandpa Ian and Gram.
And like you.

Roberts stood. “It's getting late.”

“Can I talk to you again? There's so much I want to ask you about Dad.” Jennie unfolded herself from the chair and reached out to touch his arm.

“I don't know if that would be wise. If the wrong people see us together…”

“I can meet you again tomorrow night. Please, Mr. Roberts. You're the only connection I've had with my dad since he disappeared.”

“I'll see what I can do.” His voice had changed to a hoarse whisper. “Goodnight.”

Jennie nearly crumbled as he walked away. She wanted to run after him, make him stay with her until…
Until what? Until you run out of questions? Until he fills up the big empty hole Dad left in your heart when he disappeared?

That empty space seemed bigger now than it ever had. Jennie should have gone back to the cabin, but she didn't want to go to sleep. What she wanted more than anything at that moment was to climb into Mom's lap and cry. Only she couldn't go to anyone—not Gram, or Lisa, or even J.B. This was one problem she'd have to deal with on her own. Well, not entirely on her own. As Gram had often reminded her, “God is always with us.”

Jennie dabbed at the tears pooling in her eyes and blew her nose. She still had Roberts' handkerchief. She'd have to give it back. Somehow the thought of talking to him again cheered her.

Needing to distance herself from all that had happened, and feeling too wired to sleep, Jennie changed into running shorts and a T-shirt, then headed to the promenade deck to run a couple of laps. The wound in her leg ached with a growing intensity. She should have told Roberts about that, and about the break-in back at the house.

As she passed the darkened area at the ship's bow, her skin prickled. Someone could be hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting to grab her. She passed safely through the darkness and headed back into the light.