Nobody's Hero (10 page)

Oh yeah. She certainly understood that line of thinking.

“Exposing my life to the world will make me safe how exactly?”

“Not the world, Callah. Burkette. Everyone will know you’re in danger. Danger you don’t know or understand. You’re one of us. People here will do everything in their power to keep you safe.”

One of them. She wanted to laugh. God, she was so tired. She wished she still had the gun she’d left in Riley’s truck. Then maybe she’d feel safe. “And it’ll just happen to sell a few thousand papers too. Nice how that works.”

“I’m not going to apologize for my job, Callah. It’s what I do. The fact that I think it’ll protect you is an added bonus.”

“Whatever, Riley. Whatever. Write the story. Make it killer. Add all the good stuff. The way Charlie totally demoralized me. The way I let it happen. The way I moved back to Burkette to find safety and security in the expected and found instead that my entire life has been constructed on a lie.”

He started forward and she held out her hand. “Don’t touch me, Riley. Just write the damn story. First though, I think we should talk to the nice men sitting out there so we can make sure we have all the gory details. What do you think? It might be good for a few more copies. Who knows? You could get lucky and win a Pulitzer. Get hired by CNN. Write a book and go on Oprah. Throw in all the juicy stuff, and they might even make a movie. Trust me when I say they’d love you in Hollywood.”
 

As Callah’s angry words slammed into Riley, he tried to let them bounce off. He knew he had to let her vent. Hell, he didn’t blame her. This whole thing sucked. Someone had screwed up. Big time. The men waiting in the hall were just two of those someone’s.

Honestly, in a way she was right. He wanted this story, but more than that, he wanted her safe. Getting the story to the public was one way to make that happen. After her stunt with the gun, she was lucky they even had this chance.

“I just want you to be safe, Callah.”

She smiled in sad disbelief. “You’re a reporter, Riley. It’s okay. I get it.”

He wasn’t going to argue with her. Not now. Later, once the upcoming interviews were over, she’d remember what they’d shared at the cabin, and then she’d know she was more than a story to him.
 

Mack set a Diet Coke in front of her and she popped the top with a thanks. Riley saw the worry on Mack’s face. Knew his editor was wondering how the suits outside might screw with the biggest story to hit Burkette.

It was time to find out.

“Call ’em in, Mack. Callah needs to know the truth.”

The truth. Right. Callah wanted to laugh. And the whole
Callah needs to know
thing. Yeah. So selfless of him. Like he wasn’t salivating at the idea of more explosive details for his story.
 

The dog walker was followed by a trusty sidekick. Younger. Leaner. An all-American golden boy.
 
Her unease didn’t go away as Mr. dog walker flipped open his wallet and introduced himself.
 

“Ms. Crenshaw, I’m Special Agent Vince McBride with the FBI.” He pointed to the man standing to his side. “This is my partner Special Agent James Conroy. We’re sorry for the scare you had today, and we apologize for any inconvenience our surveillance might have caused you.”

Inconvenience. Callah choked back a laugh. These men standing in front of her had answers she needed, so she wasn’t going to waste time berating them.

“Nice to meet you both.” Years of training made the words sound cordial even though she wanted to scream, to rage.
 

The dog walker, Agent McBride, cleared his throat as he took a seat across from her. “I’m sure you have questions Ms. Crenshaw. We don’t have all the answers, but what we do know, we’ll share. If you’d like this to be private, I’m sure Mr. Sorenson will understand.”

This time she did laugh. Obviously, this guy did not know Riley. Besides private was the last thing in the world she wanted. Because even though she hated it, she figured Riley was right about one thing. The secrets had to stop.
 

“I’ve decided privacy’s overrated. Besides, I’m sure Riley’s as interested in hearing this as I am.”

The agents looked at each other then finally shrugged and sat across from her. Agent Conroy opened a brief case. He pulled out an envelope similar to the one that had been mailed to Riley and laid out four photos.
 

“Do either of these people look familiar?”

Her breath caught as she looked at the photos. Younger versions of the people in the wedding photo Riley had shown her earlier. The man in the photo near her looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a Led Zeppelin album. The woman’s big hair and dress made her look like an extra in one of those 80s teen flicks. In the other two photos both were in full military regalia.

“I,” she tried speaking, but her voice cracked, and she had to start over. “I don’t know these people.”

The young agent looked at the dog walker, found the answer he sought in what she figured was some silent secret agent communication, then leaned forward, his face intense as he spoke. “Their names are Olivia and David Duncan.”

She nodded, still not understanding. “They’re in a photo sent to Riley.”

Both men seemed surprised, and Riley produced the photo, laid it next to the ones already on the table.

“We’ll have to keep this. It’s not a photo we have on file.” McBride picked the print up, searched for identifying marks just as she had, then put it back on the table.

She couldn’t stand this any more. “Who are they? What’s going on?”

“The story we’re going to tell involves the Duncan’s, your family and you. When we’re done, if you have questions. We’ll answer what we can.” The older agent, McBride, sounded practically gleeful as he spoke.

Callah wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the story. But she knew she had no choice. She needed to know who these people were. Her life might depend on it.

Holy crap.
 

Riley looked at the smiling people in the photos from another lifetime and knew what the agent was going to say. He saw the train wreck coming and couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Damn, this was going to hurt her. He grabbed her cold hand in his and waited for the agent to speak, for Callah to react.

Agent Conroy pointed at the young man in the photo. “David Duncan was your natural father.” He pointed at the other photo. “Olivia, your mother.”

Other than clenching his hand and letting out a slight gasp, Callah didn’t react at all, and Riley knew she didn’t believe it. Not yet. But she would soon. These agents had more proof than the mother and daughter’s uncanny resemblance.

As the story unfolded, each layer revealed a darker secret. And he knew when it was over he didn’t have the capabilities to keep her safe, but he’d do his best because she needed him. Judging by what he’d seen of these agents so far, he was all she had.

It felt like an out-of-body experience. Not that she’d ever had one. It was just so completely unreal. Callah sat in the cold room watching the cold men tell their cold story, let Riley hold her cold hands in his.

She was there, but not. Somehow she was watching, listening, even reacting, but not really. Everything echoed. She locked her eyes on the photos on the table as Agent Conroy unraveled his outlandish story, and she let Riley hold her hand because obviously that’s what he needed to do. Whatever. She didn’t care.

Supposedly her parents were undercover agents in a top-secret military program developed during the cold war.

They fell in love and resigned from active intelligence once they decided to start a family. Straight out of a movie. Callah almost laughed at the irony, except the small pain balled up in her throat threatened to turn into an all-out sob at any second.

When Olivia and David learned of an illegal weapons program at a nearby military base, they set up a meet with an active agent. That agent and Daniel Duncan were found dead in the Duncan residence, and Olivia Duncan disappeared with her young daughter.
 

Agent McBride pointed to the couple in the photo. “Ms. Crenshaw, new evidence leads us to believe you are Olivia and David Duncan’s daughter and that the man who raised you as his child was involved in the hit ordered on your birth parents.”

Callah shook her head, trying to make sense of the fragments of her so-called life lying on the table. She yanked her hand from Riley’s and looked at the photos of these strangers. Of these people who meant nothing to her.

Agent Conroy reached in his pocket and she wanted to beg him to stop. To leave her alone. To go away and pretend they didn’t know who she was.

Beside her, Riley stood, walked around her seat at the conference table. She wanted to scream at him. To tell him her life was more than a story, but she couldn’t even make her voice work. All she could do was focus on the agent’s hand as he slowly brought out one last photo and let it drop oh so softly to the walnut table.

Callah took one look at the photo and everything happened at once.

“No.” The voice wasn’t hers, but the word was. Her feet hit the floor, the soft soles of her sandals skidding as she pushed the chair backwards.

“No. There’s something very wrong here.”

The voice she heard sounded different from her own. Panicked. Low.

Her hand shook as she pointed at the new photo on the table. “This is some sort of sick joke. I don’t know who you are or why you’re doing this, but there’s no way any of this is true.”

And yet, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the photo of the smiling family. The man and woman so obviously in love. The little girl sitting between them, her thumb in her mouth, her blonde ringlets falling to her shoulders.

The little girl in the picture was her.

She’d seen a million photos of herself at that same age. Never had she seen the other people in the pictures. Never before this day.

Riley covered her hand with his, and she yanked away. “Stop it.” She looked at him and tried to be outraged that he was trying to comfort her. He’d started this entire mess when he’d called this morning with his outrageous story.

The agents watched her with eyes that looked practiced in this sort of thing. She focused on McBride. This man was lying. He had to be.

“Who are you? Why have you been following me around? Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook as badly as her voice, but she wanted answers. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were right away? You talked to my ex-husband a long time ago. I saw you.”

Agent McBride acknowledged the truth of that statement with a nod of his head. “Yes, Ma’am. We thought it best to watch, to wait and see…”

“Wait and see what?”

“Your birth mother may still be alive. If she is, we hoped she would come forward. We’re unsure what exactly her involvement was in the murder. She could be a victim or an active participant.”

Callah didn’t know the woman in the photo, but what they were accusing her father of, “You’re wrong about my dad. He would never….” Her voice trailed off as she realized she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Agent Conroy took over. “You need to be prepared, Ms. Crenshaw. Olivia Duncan could make contact with you now. Her training….”
 

Agent McBride interrupted. “Olivia Duncan was a top-level field agent. Suffice it to say she could be very dangerous.”

“I don’t know these people. What could she possibly want from me?”

“Ma’am, that’s why we’re here now,” McBride said. “There must be a reason your ex-husband was killed. Something shifted in the last year and a half. Something that could lead to you.”

Callah shook her head in disbelief. “You’re wrong. You have to be.”

“We’ve been searching for her, and you, for twenty-seven years, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“No.” Callah scooted the photo across the table.
 

“Ma’am,” Agent Conroy looked apologetic as he spoke. “I’m sorry. But you’re in danger, and denial isn’t going to change that fact.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re kidding me right? You come here to tell me that this woman, this Olivia Duncan,
my natural mother
, might be after me. That my life is a lie, and that I’m in danger. And I’m supposed to just accept it all like it’s some kind of Christmas present.”

“No ma’am.” The agent agreed with her and that just pissed her off.

She swallowed her frustration. This was a puzzle. That’s all. These people and their story were simply pieces to that puzzle.
 
“Is my father aware that we’re having this discussion?”

Agent Conroy nodded. “Yes ma’am. The Colonel is fully aware that you now know the truth.”

“Can I talk to him?” The question was whispered, and it took every ounce of will she had not to cry.

“Ma’am, the Colonel is still being interrogated at this time. After that, his lawyers will be contacting you to set up a time for visitation.”

“You should be aware that anything you say to him will be recorded and could be used against him at trial,” McBride added. “I’m sure Washington will want you to speak with Colonel Crenshaw soon.”

She wanted to break down. To tell these agents to go to hell and take their stupid story with them.