Secret Agent Minister (15 page)

Which would stay with him a lot longer, gnawing at his soul, Lydia thought. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I could have waited until we were home, until we knew we were clear and safe. I could have made him take a rest, get some counseling. Retire maybe. I could have saved all of them, Lydia. Don’t you see, I could have saved Eli and his family. All of them. But instead, I had to be self-righteous and sanctimonious, for the greater good. For the sake of CHAIM. I had to make a tough decision, and it was the wrong decision.”

Lydia wanted to hold him, to help him. But she didn’t dare touch him, not now when he was so caught up in his own misery. He’d only push her away again. “You did the best you could.” Even that reassurance sounded lame and inadequate in the face of his pain.

He turned away again. “Well, my best wasn’t good enough.”

And suddenly, standing there in a wildflower meadow with the purple mountains’ majesty all around them, Lydia understood why he couldn’t tell her he loved her.

Because his best might not be good enough.

Because in his mind, he might fail. Again.

T
hey found the cabin just before sundown.

Dev lay on a narrow ridge, his hand holding Lydia’s, as he scoped the woods and trees. He had to be sure no one else had beaten them here. And without a weapon, he could only protect Lydia with his fists and his wits, both of which were not working at full capacity right now.

Protecting Lydia. That was his goal. But he was trying to protect her from so much more than the people who were after them, so much more.

He hadn’t told her the end to the story.

And he probably never would. Too many people could get hurt, or worse.

“Let’s take the back way in,” he said now, pushing the dark thoughts out of his mind as he focused on staying alert. “I want to be sure no one else is here.”

“We didn’t invite anyone else,” she said, back to her quick quips and wry retorts again.

Dev hated the way she’d gone all quiet and reflective after he’d bared his soul to her earlier. She’d stopped asking, stopped pushing, and now he had to wonder if she was so full of disgust and loathing for him, in spite of her reassurances, that she couldn’t bear to hear any more details of his past. He couldn’t blame her for that, not at all.

But, oh, how he wanted Lydia’s respect again. And now he ached, wanting her love, too. She loved him; he knew that without a doubt. But love was a very fragile thing. It could quickly change to hate and resentment. He’d witnessed that with Eli. He couldn’t bear that with Lydia. No, better to let her think the worst of him. Because whatever she was thinking now couldn’t compare to how she’d feel if he told her the whole truth.

Determined not to let that happen, he guided her in a low crouch through the thick foliage around the perimeter of the square cabin, his eyes scanning the open pasture and winding stream that bordered the property. Then he glanced up toward the hills and ridges behind the cabin.

“A lot of hiding places around here,” he whispered to her. “But maybe we won’t get any company tonight. This place is so off the map, even CHAIM operatives shouldn’t be able to find it.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Lydia replied. “Probably very peaceful and soothing in most cases.”

But this wasn’t like most cases, Dev reasoned. This was not a vacation. This was survival. “Eli always came here to find his center, to get his head together,” he said. “I think he probably came here after South America.”

Only Dev never had found Eli here when his wife lay in a coma, when she needed her husband by her side. Of course, Eli would have been on full alert back then. He’d probably left long before Dev even made it over the last ridge. Eli Trudeau had been raised in the swamps of Louisiana, so the man knew how to disappear.

He also knew how to reappear without warning.

And for all Dev could see, Eli could be out there right now, watching them, waiting to seek his own brand of vengeance. Dev would almost welcome that, if not for Lydia.

Taking her with him, he did a quick scan of the back of the house, where a tiny deck reached out toward the mountains. He didn’t like entering a place cold, without benefit of equipment or weapons, but Lydia needed to rest and this was his last chance, his last hope.

Maybe Eli would come and they could get to the bottom of this once and for all or at least try to make things even.

“Okay, let’s go inside and see how things are,” he told Lydia. “Stay close.”

“Like I’d run out into these mountains on my own,” she retorted.

Dev didn’t need to remind her that early this morning, she’d almost done that very thing. They both knew this had been the longest day—trekking through the mountains was hard work on a good day—but they were dragging a lot of excess emotional baggage. Or at least, Dev knew he was.

They crept quietly up onto the porch, then Dev kicked at the door, opening it wide. “No need for locks out here,” he whispered. “At least never before.”

He did a quick scan of the dim room, enough natural light left to allow him a clear view of the drab fixtures. It was a small kitchen. “No electricity,” he whispered over his shoulder. “But I think I can remember where he keeps matches and flint. And there should be some oil lamps around here somewhere.”

“What about food?” Lydia asked. “I’m so hungry.”

“We might find some rations somewhere in here. There’s an old well for water and washing, and he used to keep potable water on hand.”

Dev held her behind him, protecting her with his body as they slowly entered the quiet, empty room. Then the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Turning to Lydia, he put a finger to his mouth to silence any words. Pulling her close, he backed toward the door. What had it been? A sound, a soft creaking of wood? Maybe some nocturnal creatures scurrying away? But something wasn’t right.

Something wasn’t right.

At the door, he turned her around. “I think—”

“You thought right, bro.”

Dev heard the familiar Cajun accent coming from deep inside the dark cabin.
Eli.

“C’mon on back in, Pastoral. You’re always welcome in my home,
mon ami.
”

Lydia gasped, stared at Dev with a questioning look.

Dev sent her a warning message to stay silent. “Eli, is that you?”

“Stupid question. This is my cabin, after all. Why wouldn’t it be me?”

Dev held tightly to Lydia, willing her to stay quiet. “I thought you were going to take the long way back here.”

Then they heard footsteps moving through the tiny cabin. And suddenly, Eli’s body formed a dark silhouette in the middle of the kitchen.

“Hello, Pastoral. It’s been a while.” He bent his head, his expression full of caution and warning as he lifted his gaze toward Dev. “I tried to meander, you understand. Tried to get rid of the hound dogs on my trail, but—” He shrugged, winked, tilted his head to the left.

Dev tried to read Eli, careful to keep Lydia behind him. “But what? Are you ready to get things settled between us?”

Eli shrugged again, grinning, but Dev didn’t miss the warning in his friend’s coal-black eyes. “Me, I’ve got a lot of things that need settling.” Then Eli cut his gaze away toward the left again.

That action brought another person into view.

Eli nodded toward the other man. “But him, he has even more at stake in this little game,
oui.
”

Dev felt Lydia stiffen behind him, felt the fast-moving current of adrenaline flowing through his system as he stared at the man moving toward Eli.

“Hello, old boy. So good to see you again.”

The Peacemaker was standing beside Eli. And he had a Colt .45 aimed at Eli’s head.

Eli smiled, but the look in his dark eyes was deadly. “I told you it wasn’t me, Pastoral.”

Dev registered that, his gaze centered on the tall, gray-haired man holding Eli by the arm. “Why?”

The Peacemaker didn’t respond at first. He just stood there staring at them. Then he said, “I don’t have to explain my actions. I don’t need to explain anything to you.”

Dev glared at him, hating the smug, condescending expression on the man’s face. His mind raced with ways to get Lydia out of this situation. He moved a fraction, holding her behind him.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Pastoral,” The Peacemaker said, his gaze slipping over Lydia. “She is such a pretty woman, isn’t she? And so very hard to kill.”

“You—” Dev rushed forward, and found the gun aimed at him.

Lydia screamed, moving forward, too. “What’s going on?” she said. “I mean, why are you so determined to kill both of us? I don’t know anything. I just want to go home.”

Dev settled back, his arm pressed behind him to keep Lydia from rushing in with her own brand of justice.

The old man pushed Eli toward them, then turned the gun on all three of them. Eli sent Dev a look that said “How are you going to get us out of this one?” Dev wondered the same thing.

The Peacemaker shook his head, still glaring at Lydia. “But, my dear, you do know things. You now know all about CHAIM. Such a sanctimonious organization, don’t you think? Taking the law into its own hands, so to speak. Seeking the ultimate justice where others have failed. You know our secrets now, dear, and you know my face. I can’t allow that.”

Dev noticed how Eli had moved closer, helping him to shield Lydia. A plan formed in his head. He knew he could count on Eli to get Lydia out of this cabin and keep her alive out there. He’d just have to distract this madman so they could make a run for it.

“Let her go,” he told the other man, his hand slicing through the air. “She got caught up in this when you had my friend murdered in Atlanta.”

“Didn’t she, though?” The Peacemaker said. “And you, being so very noble, took her on the run with you.”

“I had to protect her,” Dev retorted. “I’m going to protect her.” He sent a brief look toward Eli. “No matter what.”

“Not if you’re all dead,” the older man said, his smile serene. “I had to abort my plan down in New Orleans, but I’m getting tired of chasing you all over the country.” Then he nodded toward Eli. “But this one, he brought me right to you. Once I nabbed him, he was more than willing to help me out, just to save that crazy Kissie.”

Dev looked toward Eli, giving him an expression of gratitude. Then he hoped his friend would see the signals in his eyes.
I need your help
.

Eli let out a snort, but nodded briefly at Dev.
Message received.
Then he made a big show, sighing, shifting, his expression serene and misleading as he cut his gaze toward The Peacemaker. “Now tell me again exactly why you need to eliminate all of us?”

The Peacemaker kept his gun trained on them. “It’s a long story, really. Let’s just say you both stirred up a hornet’s nest down in Rio Branco. Your actions have jeopardized my operations there. You were trespassing on my estate, you see.”

Eli grunted, then lifted his dark eyebrows. “You’re a drug lord,
oui?
”

The older man laughed, held the gun higher. “That’s such a derogatory way of describing it, don’t you think? I provide a service to people. I have my own religion, my own way of teaching the word of God.” He shrugged, shook the gun at them. “It’s that simple.”

“Why?” Dev asked again, needing to know how a supposedly good, faithful man could go so terribly wrong. But then, he reasoned, there was evil all over the place and some couldn’t overcome the temptation.

The Peacemaker gave him a simmering smile. “It was just so…easy. The money, the power, the ability to control something. I had the perfect cover.”

Dev nodded. “You used your CHAIM position and your connections. How could you do that?”

“Easy. I took what was offered.”

Eli stopped smiling, and Dev recognized the deadly calm of his friend’s whole countenance. “And you got rid of anyone standing in your way, right?”

“Unfortunate, but necessary. You two rushed in to save that silly girl, and, well, that brought too much attention to my little community.”

Dev saw Eli’s expression change, a darkness settling like a shadow on a mountain over his haggard features. “You killed my wife.”

The Peacemaker didn’t respond. He just stood there, a blank look on his face. Quiet came over the room as Dev watched Eli wrestling for control. Dev prayed Eli would stay centered and do what needed to be done to bring this man to justice.

“Did you kill my wife and my unborn child?” Eli asked, his fists clenched tightly at his side, his eyes as wild and dark as a forest creature’s.

“I’m so sorry,” The Peacemaker said, his voice filled with a false inflection of pain. “If Devon here hadn’t reported your extracurricular activities, that might not have been necessary. But when he brought your noble mission to a halt and you went off snooping on your own…well, things just got too hot. I couldn’t take that risk. I mean, how would it look if one of your CHAIM superiors was accused of being the head of such a mighty cartel? Not good at all. Especially considering that poor girl also knew too much about me. I couldn’t let you rescue her and return her home. I’m very sorry, truly I am.”

Dev felt sick inside, seeing the deranged gleam in the man’s eyes. This man, so high up and such a legend within the ranks of CHAIM, had turned into an evildoer of the worst kind. Murder, drug trafficking, illegal activities, and all beneath the guise of helping Christians. Dev felt such shame washing over him. It was he who had brought them all to this moment.

Then he heard a voice as clearly as if someone were standing right beside him. “Not you. But him.”

Dev felt a new courage pouring over him. He looked toward Eli, saw the rage and torment there in his friend’s dark eyes. But he also saw something else. Eli’s eyes shone with a new understanding, a new hope and a forgiveness that had not been there since the awful events of that day.

Dev knew what he had to do. He had to make this up to Eli and he had to save Lydia. He could almost read Eli’s thoughts.
Now, bro.

Stealing himself, Dev said a quick prayer. Then he stopped thinking and went on adrenaline and impulse. “You will not get away with this,” he said, just before he lunged toward the man holding the gun.

The gun went off and the fight was on.

Lydia screamed, her mind going numb as Pastor Dev moved like lightning toward the other man. She heard the gunshot, saw the two men engaging in an all-out battle. But before she could see if Pastor Dev had been hit, she was dragged away.

By him. By Eli Trudeau.

“Let me go,” she shouted, kicking and screaming as he lifted her up and stumbled out the back door. Lydia’s efforts were fruitless. The man was solid muscle, as tightly built as an iron freight train.

“Let me go,” she cried, glued to the open door, tuned to the noises coming from within. She could hear crashes, shouts, grunts. “I have to get back to him.”

A big hand came over her mouth as Eli set her on her feet behind a jagged rock. “Shut up,” he said into her ear, his tone almost conversational. He wasn’t even out of breath. “If you behave, I’ll take my hand away. Don’t make me have to gag that cute mouth of yours.”