Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (31 page)

His lips pulled into a tight line. “You never know. Maybe I'll do that.”

Bailey sighed and glanced around. “I'm not even sure what we're looking for exactly.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

They searched the cabinets and under things and between old pieces of wood. There was nothing.

“There's also the barn area,” Bailey reminded him.

“It's worth a look.”

They stepped through a door and, even though there hadn't been animals in this space for probably a decade, the smell seemed to be a part of the building. Bailey absorbed the odor of hay and dank earth and the musky scent of fading sunlight.

“This makes me want to grab a good book and a blanket and curl up in the hay with it,” Bailey murmured.

Ed looked over at her and smiled, an unidentifiable emotion in his gaze.

“What? What was that look for?” Bailey asked.

“Nothing.”

“It was most definitely something.” She raised an eyebrow.

“I just like the way you think, Bailey. I can't see myself curling up with a book, but curling up in the hay sounds nice.”

“Curling up in the hay by yourself sounds nice?” she asked.

He let out a quick laugh. “Let's just keep looking.”

Bailey didn't ask any more questions.

They searched each of the stalls, under the hay, between slats in the wood. Nothing.

Ed nodded up toward the ceiling. “Hayloft. Last place, other than the actual garage. I'm not sure my dad could have gotten up there, though.”

“He was rather sprightly up until the last couple of weeks. I mean, sure, he had episodes before that. But he didn't want to slow down.”

“Sounds like my dad. Maybe I should check it out first, just in case it's rickety.”

“No way. I'm going, too.”

“Enter at your own risk.”

“You know it.”

Ed climbed the wooden ladder first, but Bailey stayed on his heels. Once Ed reached the top, he stretched his hand out to help her up. Bailey flinched at the electricity that shot through them as their hands connected.

As soon as she could, she pulled her hand away and wiped her palm on her jeans. That spark had been unexpected, and she didn't know what to do about the fact that her heart was suddenly pounding out of control.

Ed seemed unaffected and coolly in charge of all of his emotions still. The feeling had been one-sided, and that was fine with Bailey. She wasn't looking for fireworks. Just to save her sister's life. And a job would be nice, once all this chaos was over.

Unfortunately the blast of electricity left her feeling unbalanced. She took a step away from the ladder, only to trip on something. Ed caught her arm, but that only diffused her fall. She hit the hay and a whiff of dust ballooned into her face, making her sneeze.

“You okay?” Ed asked, bending down beside her.

She pushed herself up and sneezed. “Yeah, just fine.”

“I told you it might be rickety here.”

She scowled. “Yes, you did.”

“Why don't you stay here while I check the rest of this place out?”

She flipped over, off her stomach and into sitting position. She hated to admit it, but he was right. “Sure.”

The loft was surprisingly large and, though she'd pictured only hay bales, there were several things that were covered up. She watched as Ed moved the sheet off the first mystery item. There were old bags of fertilizer. He searched between them and then put the sheet back over the stash.

As he was walking toward the next sheet-covered mass, the floor suddenly gave way. Ed went tumbling downward.

FIFTEEN

B
ailey screamed as she leaped to her feet and ran across the loft toward Ed. She slowed her steps as she got closer, fearing more of the floor would give out. But before she even reached Ed, he'd pulled himself out and sat against the wall. Hay sprinkled his hair.

“Told you it wasn't safe,” he muttered.

Something about the way he said the words caused Bailey to chuckle. Her chuckle turned into a full-out laugh, and Ed joined her. They sat there, both covered in hay and sneezing, and for probably no reason.

“I feel like we're two kids who've snuck up here without our parents' permission,” Bailey said, throwing a piece of straw from her hair to the floor.

“Tell me about it. I can't imagine my father coming up here, not at his age. We obviously can't even handle it.”

Bailey let out another long chuckle, the action a nice break from the tension.

Ed pushed himself up. “Let me check out these other two things, and then let's get down.”

Bailey swiped the ground with her hands and froze at what she saw. “Ed. Look at this.”

He carefully crossed the floor toward her and bent down. There was fresh, new wood underneath the hay. A section of this loft had been replaced.

Ed continued to wipe away the hay, and what almost seemed like a walkway right down the center emerged. “How did we miss this?” he muttered.

“I think it's right over the rafters. Listen.” Bailey knocked on the wood. The sound was dull and without any echo or reverberation.

Ed smiled. “I believe you're right. That would be the most secure part of the floor anyway. It makes sense.”

The walkway led to a covered object against the far wall. Bailey followed Ed, making sure to stay on the new section of planks. She held her breath when they reached the end. Ed glanced at her before pulling the sheet down.

What they saw there surprised them both.

* * *

Ed blinked at what was beneath the sheet. He'd expected more farm equipment. Maybe a filing cabinet, at best. Instead, he saw—

“Lab equipment? What in the world is this?” Bailey asked.

Ed shook his head. “I have no idea why this is here.”

He stared at the worktable. There was a microscope, some camera negatives, cellophane and developing fluid.

“Maybe your dad took up photography and didn't tell anyone?” Bailey offered.

Ed shook his head. “I wish there was a simple, logical explanation. That's highly unlikely.”

“If not photography, what was he doing with this?”

“I have no idea.”

Ed lifted things off the table, looking for a picture, a paper, a camera. There was nothing.

Of course his dad had covered his tracks. His dad was the best at what he did, and Ed wouldn't expect anything less. But that didn't help Ed find any answers. What exactly had his dad been up to?

“What are we going to do now?” Bailey asked.

“We?” Certainly Ed hadn't heard the question correctly.

Bailey nodded. “I'm in this with you. If someone hurt your father, then I failed in my job as his nurse. I was supposed to watch out for him.”

His heart slowed to a thud. “No one could have known.”

“Still, I feel responsible. I just don't understand how someone switched the medication.”

“Whoever did it was good. Whatever that information was that Elmer Martin brought to him, I have a feeling someone wants to get his or her hands on it. It's either because whatever's in those files is incriminating or because it contains highly sensitive information that's capable of bringing down organizations. Countries for that matter.”

Bailey shook her head and stepped closer, glancing over all the equipment. She finally paused. “I don't know what to say about all of this. I never remember your dad talking about photography. The only hobby I remember your dad talking about—besides fishing and golfing—was listening to his old James Taylor albums.”

Ed glanced at her. “James Taylor? My dad didn't like James Taylor.”

“He talked about him...”

“What?” Ed asked.

Bailey nodded, unwavering. “He mentioned him before he died. I figured he was talking about the singer/songwriter.” Bailey shook her head. “Is there someone else named James Taylor, Ed? Was that some kind of clue that I didn't even pick up on?”

“It's worth looking into. In fact, let's get back to the house and do that now. In the meantime, I'm going to give some more thought to this equipment and ask Wilkins about this walkway.”

“I doubt he could get up here to build this.”

Ed agreed. “But Todd could have.”

“It looks like maybe we're getting some leads.”

“Yes,
we
are.” Bailey grinned.

Somehow, being in this together didn't feel so bad at the moment. He only hoped Bailey didn't get hurt in the process. He would do everything within his power to ensure that didn't happen.

* * *

The next morning, Bailey pulled her jacket closer as the wind whipped over the boat. When Ed had returned yesterday morning from the mainland, he'd brought his boat with him, which allowed them the freedom to come and go as they pleased.

Today, they were going to meet with Mr. Carter's lawyer to hear the last will and testament being read. A knot of apprehension had formed in Bailey's stomach at the thought. She really didn't want anything to do with Mr. Carter's estate, but since he'd requested that she be there, she'd honor his wishes.

After they finished with that meeting, they planned to pay a surprise visit to James Taylor. Ed had called someone last night and had volunteered a limited amount of information to Bailey. Apparently, there was a man with that name affiliated with Mr. Carter through the State Department. He was now retired and living in a DC suburb. Nothing about him seemed suspicious.

Maybe—just maybe—he would have some answers for them. They so desperately needed answers right now, and each of their leads so far had seemed to fizzle out.

When they reached the mainland, the rental car Ed had arranged for them was waiting at the pier. Bailey watched carefully as Ed inspected the vehicle as though he was suspicious something might be wrong with it. It didn't do much to help Bailey relax on the drive. Had he been looking for a car bomb? A bug? She didn't ask; she figured it was better not to know and that Ed wouldn't tell her anyway.

“You know this lawyer?” Bailey asked. “A.J. Andrews?”

Ed shook his head. “Nope. Never met him, never heard of him.”

“Ed, I just want you to know that even if something was left to me by your father, I'm not going to take it. I don't do this job so people can leave me things after they die. I'm going to the meeting just out of respect for your father.”

“I know you're not a gold digger, Bailey. If my father wanted you to have something, you should take it. My father never made halfhearted decisions. If he left you something, it was for a reason.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm still not sure I'm comfortable taking anything.” She was just ready to get this meeting over with.

A few minutes later, they pulled to up a regal-looking redbrick building in downtown Richmond. Ed found a parking space on the street before they hurried up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors at the front of the building.

“Ed Carter. We've been expecting you.” The receptionist turned to Bailey. “And you must be Bailey. We're glad you both could make it.”

Bailey and Ed exchanged a glance. Did every client get this greeting?

“Come with me,” the receptionist continued.

They followed the woman across lush carpet, down the hall and to the office at the end. A man sat behind a desk there. He was younger than what Bailey had expected—probably in his midthirties. He had dark hair, appeared tall, and...he had a cleft in his chin.

“You're the man who stopped by to see me at Mr. Carter's house,” Bailey mumbled. He fit the description Mr. Wilkins had given her perfectly.

The man didn't flinch. “That was me.”

“Why'd you go to Smuggler's Cove?” Bailey refused to move from the doorway, not until the man explained himself.

“Why don't you sit down and I'd be happy to clarify.” He pointed to the leather chairs in front of him.

Bailey shook her head. “I'd rather you expound first.”

His wide, bright smile dimmed. “I was coming to check you out.” He laced his hands together on the desk. “I counted Mr. Carter as a friend, and I didn't want to see him make a mistake.”

“You wanted to make sure I was trustworthy, in other words.”

“In so many words, I suppose the answer would be yes. Last-minute changes to a person's will can raise red flags,” A.J. explained.

“When exactly did my father make changes to his will?” Ed asked, his eyebrows knit together.

“About a month before he died. I believe you brought him over here on the ferry, Bailey, and he said he had some errands he wanted to do on his own.”

Bailey nodded. “That's right. I went into town to do some shopping and take care of my own business.”

“Mr. Carter was here meeting with me.” He pointed to the seats again. “Now, I think you'd be more comfortable if you sat, but we can do this your way.”

Ed led Bailey to a seat, and they both made themselves comfortable. Bailey's mind was racing, though. Thank goodness Ed was with her now because she needed his wisdom. Quite possibly his protection, too, if she were to be honest.

“All right.” The lawyer pulled out a file and opened it. “I won't keep you in suspense any longer.”

* * *

Ed's mind raced as they left the attorney's office. There was something he didn't quite trust about A.J. Andrews.

He'd expected his dad to hire someone older, with more experience. Why had his father hired that man, of all people? Was his reputation so glowing that he'd overlooked the man's age? Was this man connected in some way with the CIA?

Neither he nor Bailey said anything after the meeting, except mentioning lunch. They found a deli down the street, ordered sandwiches and then found a corner booth to eat.

“What do you think?” Bailey asked. She took a long sip of her iced tea.

Ed shook his head. “I don't know what to think. Something seems a little suspicious about all of this.”

“You think your father was trying to send a message through his will?”

Ed shook his head again, trying to let everything set in. His father had left him the entire estate, with the stipulation that Ed not sell the property. He'd left Bailey access to the widow's walk whenever she wanted, as well as the golf cart and his collection of books.

Access to the widow's walk? What an odd bequest. If Ed owned the property, that essentially gave Bailey permission to use his property whenever she wanted.

“I don't expect to use the widow's walk whenever I want,” Bailey offered, wiping her mouth.

“I'm not opposed to you using it. The bequest was just strange, wouldn't you say? Not at all like my father.”

Bailey nodded. “Especially if you do settle down there one day. I certainly wouldn't want to interrupt your time so I could use the upstairs—what's rightfully mine.” She smiled, but her lips quickly flattened into a frown. “I don't know what to say. I never thought of your dad as eccentric, but...”

“My dad always did things on purpose. These things weren't haphazard. He had his reasons—I just don't know what they are.”

The will had also mentioned something about letters he'd left for both Bailey and Ed that better explained his decisions. What he hadn't said was where these letters were, and Ed had to wonder why he hadn't just left them with his attorney.

“Do you think the break-in at the office is connected with all of this?” Bailey asked.

Ed bit down. Before they'd left, A.J. had said that someone had broken in three nights ago. Nothing had been taken, but the police hadn't caught the person behind it, either. Whoever had broken in had tried to get to the attorney's files, but had been unable to breach the locks.

“It very well could be,” Ed said. “Nothing would really surprise me at this point.”

And Ed still couldn't wrap his mind around the equipment he'd found in the hayloft. The answers weren't coming together nearly as quickly as he'd hoped. He almost thought his dad...was hinting that Ed and Bailey should be together. What other reason would he have to grant her unlimited access to the house? It was the only thing that made sense.

Had his father known something that Ed hadn't? Had he seen something in Bailey that he thought would be good for Ed?

With every new answer he uncovered, the more tangled this web seemed to get. In the back of his mind, he wondered about Sanderson, as well. Was he involved with any part of this scheme? Had he discovered Ed's real identity and decided to come after him?

Ed was going to look into this attorney. Then he had to figure out how to honor his father's wishes while preserving national security.

* * *

“Any idea what we'll say to this James Taylor when we get there?” Bailey asked as they cruised down the road after lunch.

“Just let me do the talking. Follow my lead.”

She nodded, any hope she had of Ed just being a lawyer crumbling the more she got to know him. She had a feeling he was following in his father's footsteps. Did he also work for the State Department? Maybe. But there was more to his story.

They drove two hours up toward DC and finally pulled up to a country-style home located on several acres of property in the remote suburbs. The homes in this area were more than nice. They were luxurious and affluent.

“Stay close,” Ed cautioned as they got out of the car.

They approached the sweeping porch—Ed first—and rang the doorbell. Bailey observed the potted plants, the stained-glass window by the entryway, the cheerful welcome mat. At least the house
seemed
warm and welcoming.