Love Inspired Suspense June 2015 - Box Set 2 of 2: Exit Strategy\Payback\Covert Justice (44 page)

“You look like a cat burglar,” he blurted out. In skintight black clothes, her hair pulled up in a tight bun and with her face covered in black paint, Heidi could have walked within a few feet of him and he'd have missed her.

Her companion laughed. “An accurate description.” He stuck out a blackened hand. “Max Jacobs. Pleasure to meet you.”

Blake shook the hand, noting the firm grip, the hint of a challenge in the squeeze. This guy meant business.

Heidi grinned, her teeth shining bright in her darkened face. “Max is my partner. I wanted you to meet so if you see him around, you'll know he's one of the good guys.”

Max snickered. “Even if I do look like a criminal.”

Heidi's partner was a man. He shouldn't be surprised. He'd guess most undercover FBI agents were men. Still. He didn't like it.

Not that it was any of his business. And one thing was for sure, if Heidi landed in some kind of trouble, this guy looked like he could handle himself and anyone who tried to mess with her. There was some comfort in that.

“Mr. Harrison—” Max said.

“Please, call me Blake.”

Max nodded. “Okay, Blake. Listen, man, I know she rolled up in here and dropped a bomb on you. If you need to talk, want to ask questions, we get that. Your little girl has stolen the heart of every agent on this team. We'll protect her with our lives. You and your family are doing an incredible thing here and we appreciate it.”

Blake nodded as he tried to come up with something to say. “Thank you” seemed inadequate, although he meant it. “I don't think I'm doing anything incredible, but I do hope you'll pass my gratitude on to the rest of the agents. My daughter, and my entire family's safety, is my greatest concern and I—I'll rest easier knowing you guys are looking out for them.”

“I get that, man.” Max turned to Heidi. “I'm gonna check in with the team before I turn in.”

Max blended back into the night and Heidi watched him go until the door opened and closed again. Then she turned back to Blake. “That's Max.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

“Yeah. He is.”

“Y'all are close?”

“Like siblings. We fight like you and Caroline, make up quick. Would kill anyone who messed with the other.”

Most people meant that figuratively. In her case, it was probably literal.

“I have to turn in, as well. I hear my new boss is a stickler for promptness.”

“I've heard that, too.”

She backed up a few steps. “He's a good guy, calling to check on me and make sure I wasn't being attacked by strangers. Impressive.”

She jogged toward the cabin.

“Good night, Blake.” The words floated back to him. Seconds later, the dead bolt slid home on her door.

She didn't think he'd overreacted. She knew he'd been checking on her and she was impressed.

Not that it mattered what she thought.

EIGHT

M
onday morning blared into Heidi's consciousness with a phone ringing well before daylight. She rolled over and fought her eyelids' desperate attempts to slam shut as her hands searched the pillow for her phone.

“Zimmerman,” she said.

“Sorry to wake you, Z. It's Richards.”

She'd worked with Kyle Richards for a few months when she did TacOps early in her career and knowing he was running the surveillance side of this case helped her sleep at night.

Except when it didn't. “What is it?”

“Got something, might be nothing.”

“Let's hear it.”

“One of the heat signatures in the Kovac house disappeared.”

That woke her up. “What?”

“We've had two heat signatures since Kovac came home last night. Now we have one.”

“Did he go outside to smoke?”

“It didn't move, Z. It's gone.”

“You ever seen anything like this before?”

“A few times. I'm guessing there's either an underground room or a panic room.”

“Is this the first time we've noticed it here?” Heidi did a few air squats to try to get some blood pumping. The clock said it was too late to go back to sleep.

“Yep, but that doesn't mean it's the first time it's happened. We don't have the manpower or equipment to check for heat signatures all the time. We spot-check. Happened to have the equipment on when one of them up and disappeared. Freaked Jillson out.” Richards snorted and Heidi heard a distant “Did not!” through the phone.

“We'll keep checking for it to reappear and will let you know when it does.”

“I assume looking for this room will be a priority Friday night?”

TacOps could study a suspect and their routines for as long as ten weeks before planning a home visit. But Katarina Kovac had made dinner reservations in Asheville and the TacOps team was confident the Kovacs would be away from home for at least three hours on Friday evening. Not as much time as they'd need, but it would be a start.

“You got it.”

She yawned.

Richards chuckled. “Sorry about waking you up, but I thought you should know we're on alert over here. In case something goes down—”

“No apologies. It's what I want you to do.”

“That's why I like you, Z. You're one of the few agents who don't cuss me out when I call them this early.”

“I try to keep my malevolent thoughts to myself,” she said.

“Whatever, but listen.” Richards paused and his voice lost the teasing tone. “You need to be careful. I don't know what's going on, but I've done this a long time, and people who act like these folks are not normal.”

“No one is normal.”

“I know, but these people are nowhere near it. I'm serious, Z. I have a feeling about this one and I'm rarely wrong. Keep your head in the game. We've got a live one over here.”

Heidi was still thinking about Richard's comment as she walked into her office three hours later. Nothing about this case had gone as anticipated. After two attempts—maybe a third, if the stroke really hadn't been from natural causes—in as many days, all had been quiet for a solid week. It made no sense. What kind of moron criminal tipped his hand before he was ready to act? And why target Blake or Caroline Harrison?

She sat at her desk and scanned her calendar. Today she'd be paying a visit to the company that provided the small chips HPI melted and extruded into custom containers. She and Blake were leaving at 9:00 a.m. and should be back in time for the afternoon meeting.

A whole day alone with Blake Harrison.

This should be interesting.

* * *

They got in the car, she with a cup of tea she'd brewed a few minutes earlier, he with a bottle of Mountain Dew. The company had Coke machines in the break area, but Blake Harrison had a small fridge in his office stocked with nothing but Mountain Dew.

“What's with the Mountain Dew?” Not the most important question on her mind, but it was driving her nuts.

“What's with the tea?” He rolled his eyes. “You brew the stuff in your office from your own special little pot and your special-ordered loose tea. You have some nerve to mock my Dew.”

“I'm not mocking it.” She'd ignore the fact that he'd just mocked her tea. For now. “I'm asking.”

“You first,” he said.

“Fine.” She'd accept the challenge. “Tea bags are gross.”

“What?”

“Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sweet iced tea, and I realize it's usually brewed from bags, but let's face it, the sugar covers up most of the tea-bag taste. When I'm drinking my tea hot, I want to taste tea, not paper.”

“You can taste paper?”

“You can't?”

He shook his head. Maybe he'd realized the futility of arguing with her on this point.

“Where'd you learn to drink tea?”

“My roommate in college, Sara. Her mom is British. She grew up having tea every afternoon. It rubbed off on me. Then I went to England one summer with her and I claimed the tradition as my own.”

“Explains a lot,” he said with heavy sarcasm.

“Hey, that's what I am. A weird compilation of all the people who've touched my life. I don't have the family history you have—years of tradition, people who've known me since birth, a family to remind me of how we've always done things. Over the years, I've picked up all sorts of random stuff.”

“Like the tea.”

“Like the tea.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What else?”

Heidi stared out the window for a while. “New pajamas for Christmas Eve.” She blinked back the sudden moisture in her eyes. “There was a family. They were wonderful to me.” Why had she brought this up? Why?

“They did new pajamas?” The gentleness in his prompt triggered another rapid round of blinking. That Christmas. The best one she'd ever had. The new pajamas wrapped under the tree. The hoots of laughter as they all went to try them on and then posed for the pictures.

The insistence that she be in the pictures. She could still hear David Thompson's words. Feel the warmth in his smile.
You're part of the family, Heidi.

She wondered if he would be proud of the woman she had become. Uncle Frank said he would.

“Heidi?” Blake's worried voice cut through her reverie.

“Yeah, sorry. Memories,” she said.

“How many families?”

She knew what he meant. “I lost count. I only remember the ones that were horrible or beautiful. Some of them were too brief to register.”

“How did...” Blake's hands flexed on the wheel. “How did you...?”

She knew what he was curious about, even without him asking. “Do you want to know how I wound up in foster care, or how I survived the system without a criminal background?”

“Either? Both?”

This was dangerous territory. Scary. She couldn't tell him everything. The horror, the pain, the confusion, the senseless death. The damage to her sense of self, physically and emotionally. The new face, the new name, the new...everything.

“Sorry,” he said. “You don't have to tell me.” She glanced at him in time to see the red tinge his neck. Why would he be embarrassed?

“No, it's a fair question. I'm trying to decide how to answer it.”

“Trying to think up a slick version?” The teasing in his tone took the sting out of his words.

She swatted his arm. “No. It's complicated and some of it I'm not at liberty to discuss.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

She blew out a long breath.
Here goes
. “I never knew my father. He split when I was a baby. My mother, well, I think she tried. Maybe she didn't. I don't really remember her. Regardless, I went into foster care at age eight.” She swallowed back the memory of that first night with a strange family. The house was warm and she'd had plenty to eat, but she'd cried herself to sleep wondering what would happen to her mother.

Blake didn't press. She'd have to be very careful about what she said from here on out. He was such a good listener, it would be far too easy to slip up and say more than she intended.

“I was a pretty good kid, but it was hard. Hard to do well in school when you change schools with each new family, hard to even care when college seemed so out of reach. Sometimes a guidance counselor or teacher would see something in me and make an effort, but I'd wind up switching schools and having to prove myself all over again.”

She took a sip of her tea. “I wound up in a bad situation.” She still had the scar over her eyebrow to remind her of that one. “Someone made a phone call, and next thing I knew, I wound up with a family unlike any I'd ever known. New clothes that fit. My own room. No one yelling. Compassion. Acceptance. They saved my life.”

“Wow.”

“Yep.”

“I'm sure they are proud of you.”

Heidi tried to respond, but her throat constricted.

“Heidi?”

“It's okay. I, um, I think they would be. They, uh, they died.” She couldn't bring herself to say it had been an accident. There had been nothing accidental about the inferno that took them from her.

“Heidi. I'm sorry.”

His hand reached for hers, and for some reason, she allowed him to give it a gentle squeeze. He couldn't have meant it as anything more than comfort, but his touch sent a tingle up her arm and she missed the sensation of his hand on hers as soon as he pulled it away.

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen. I'd only been with them a year. They had planned to adopt me but the adoption never went through. Uncle Frank was the only surviving family member. He put me through college, looked out for me. Saved my life for the second time.”

She'd said more than she'd intended. Way more. Time to change the direction of this conversation. “Enough of my drama. Let's talk about something else. What's Caroline's story? No steady boyfriend? No ex-husband? Does she do anything other than work?”

He must have sensed she didn't want to talk about herself anymore and he shifted gears with her. “Caroline dated a guy in college. He died. Hit by a drunk driver.”

“No.” That hadn't been in her file.

“She had a hard time. Took a semester off. When she went back, she was all about work and family, nothing else. Graduated summa cum laude, came to HPI and took our finances into the modern age.” He leaned his head against the headrest and his hands flexed on the steering wheel. “She discovered the discrepancies in the accounting. She came to me one day, trembling, holding a spreadsheet. Told me she'd tried to find an explanation that made sense, but the one that didn't make sense was the only one that fit.”

Heidi could only imagine how hard that had been. She'd seen how close Caroline and Blake were. For her to have to tell him his wife had been taking money from the company accounts had to have been excruciating.

“Anyway.” He blew out a long breath. “She's amazing, but she works too much and her friends from childhood and from college have all gotten married. Some of them have kids. She feels as if she's already missed out on those opportunities. She doesn't talk about it much, but when she does, she always sounds hopeless. Like she's trapped here. I've told her to look for work somewhere else, take a leave of absence, travel, whatever. Told her she can always come back if she wants, not to feel like she has to stay, but she won't go. And now with Dad...”

Jeffrey Harrison's recovery had been remarkable, but Heidi could see how Caroline would take his health issues to be one more sign that she needed to stay close and focus on the family rather than on herself.

“I'm sure someone will come along and realize what a prize she is.” That's how it worked, wasn't it? Not that she would know from personal experience. She had a gift for terrifying men into running for their lives long before she ever had a chance to determine if they were worth hanging around. The only one who'd stayed long enough to see what the Kovacs had done to her had skipped out soon after, confirming her suspicions that there was no point in pursuing relationships. They never worked. At least, not for her.

Not that it mattered. She'd known since the day the Kovacs had scarred her for life that her purpose here was about one thing. Stopping them from ever hurting anyone again the way they'd hurt her.

Anyway, the dating scene had never appealed to her. Why would she waste her time with boys who had no idea how dangerous the world was? She'd spent her college summers learning how to run surveillance and slip in and out of buildings undetected. She'd spent hours mastering Hungarian, years pushing every selfish impulse to the side so she could someday take the Kovacs down.

And that's what she was going to do.

* * *

Blake pulled into the parking lot of their largest supplier and cut the engine. He'd been looking forward to having this time with Heidi, and it had been enlightening. He had many more questions, but he could tell when she'd said all she would say and he had enough sense to know pressing her would be counterproductive.

Trying to understand where she'd draw the line on what she would and would not discuss was giving him a headache. Or maybe the headache had already been there. He'd been up late last night, but even his morning Mountain Dew hadn't helped him perk up. Good thing he'd brought another for later.

“Are you okay?” Heidi's eyes narrowed in concern.

“Yeah.” No way would he own up to how miserable he felt. Not when he knew she'd been out running around all hours of the night doing who knew what to keep his family safe, and she sat here all bubbly and energetic. He might have to cave and try drinking some of her fancy-pants tea. “I'm good. Let's check this place out. If we get done early enough to beat the rush, I'll take you to a great burger joint a couple of miles from here.”