Trust No One (31 page)

“Reagan? Former President Reagan who hasn’t been president in like a hundred years?” MJ was beginning to think Tasha had totally lost it and here MJ was stuck in the car for absolutely no reason when she could be back in Texas with her baby.

“That’s the one.”

“Conspiracy theories to assassinate President Reagan are old news, and hello—who cares? He’s not president anymore. He’s not even alive anymore.”

“Apparently there really was a conspiracy, and our fathers were working on busting up the conspiracy.”

“Why would CIA investigate? Why not the FBI—unless it was an international threat?”

“Yes, of course. It involved Russia.”

“So, your father being from Russia would come in handy.”

“My father and your father both worked confirming the intelligence." Even in the dark, MJ saw Tasha’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, her white knuckles illuminated by the dashboard light. “Apparently the conspiracy thing had legs.”

“And these senators were involved?”

Tasha nodded. “According to the notes Ed left.”

“Okay, the senators and Russians working together to assassinate President Reagan. What? They wanted to stop the arms race?” MJ struggled to remember the history. She’d only been a girl. Reagan had some idea to end the cold war terror with Russia by building up a massive supply of weapons.

“Exactly,” Tasha said. “These senators—and others—were worried Reagan was going to bankrupt the country. Or pull us into a nuclear war."

“So their solution was to snuff the President.” MJ nodded, the senators were as whacked as Tasha obviously. “Totally makes sense. Right.”

“At the time, as far as senators go, they were young and ambitious, the bottom line is they hated all of Reagan’s policies. But he was wildly popular with the people. Guess killing him was the easiest way to keep him from getting re-elected.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Good plan,” MJ said, her voice heavy on the sarcasm. “Kill the president, conspire with the Russians, get someone you want in power.”

“You never know how some people think, why they thought killing would take care of the problem.” Tasha sounded as sincere and serious as a Reagan supporter might have been.

MJ blinked, then turned to stare at Tasha. “You’re kidding right? Aren’t you taking the same path killing these senators?”

“Did I say I was killing anyone?”

“Cut the bullshit. You’re here aren’t you?” MJ warned. “So spit out what you know and convince me why I shouldn’t turn your ass in and get back to my daughter.”

“Heard anything on the news about senators being murdered?”

“So someone’s keeping it quiet because this person was involved and doesn’t want anyone to know?”

“Exactly. And this person is powerful enough to manipulate Vista, or it’s possible there are still several players left.”

Several players? “And you plan on tracking them all down?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Why? What on earth would motivate you to track down these guys? This is old news...history. It doesn’t affect us today. Why can’t you let the past stay in the past?”

“The senators didn’t stop the plan to kill the President because they were almost caught. Intelligence hadn’t pinpointed all the players yet.”

“And yet their plan was never executed?”

“Right.”

“So something stopped them from carrying out the plans. Our fathers might not have found all the players, but they must’ve gotten close enough that the senators got scared.”

“Yes, they got scared all right.”

“But why do you care?”

“Because our fathers
did
stop the plan, just not the way they’d intended.”

Now, MJ was thoroughly confused. “Okay, they stopped the plan, good for them. The free world was saved.”

“My, aren’t we snippy. I thought you loved your father.”

MJ twitched at the insult, but refused to let Tasha guilt her. “Of course I did. But he’s been dead over two decades now. I have another life.”

“Aren’t you the least curious how they stopped the plan?”

MJ sighed. Stuck in a car with Tasha in the middle of the night over a thousand miles away from Texas reviewing CIA career highlights seemed only to be another time-wasting endeavor, regardless of how much MJ loved her father. But what choice did she have? “Okay, how did they stop the plan?”

“By dying.”

MJ gasped as if a front snap kick had just landed in her solar plexus. She struggled to breathe.

Tasha, ever the one for drama, let the tension drag out, MJ noted with a small observing part of her brain.

“What . . . ?” MJ squeezed out when she could talk again.

“Those men killed our fathers.”

Chapter 17

“No!” MJ’s world tilted. The air was suddenly too thin to draw into her lungs. Her head spun as fast as if she’d done a succession of tornado kicks in a row. “Car wreck,” she whispered, her throat closing. “Our fathers died in a car wreck.”

“Most definitely yes. Both our families died as a result of that car wreck. But it wasn’t an accident.”

“It was deliberate?” Reality took on a Twilight Zone quality. Someone killed her parents. All those years as an orphan because of men with insane ambitions. The dangerous career thrust upon her, Keith’s betrayal, nearly dying, losing her ability to have children or a normal life because of men with insane ambitions.

The path of her whole life was because of men with insane ambitions.

The thought of it... The thought was almost too much to grasp. Unconsciously, MJ tightened her grasp on the dog in her arms. He yelped.

Tasha scooped Cy into her lap, then reached behind her seat, pulling out a big brown envelope and tossed it in MJ’s lap. “Everything I’m telling you is in there.”

MJ picked up the envelope and stared at it, as if by osmosis the information would transfer itself to her brain. “Who helped them?” she heard herself ask in a tiny voice that couldn’t possibly belong to her.

“Many. Haven’t tracked them all yet. Obviously someone still alive remembers the plot, knows who was involved, put two and two together.”

“Someone who works for the CIA and gave . . . who Jeff? . . . the information at Vista?”

“Or it could be Jeff’s boss. Or someone who worked for both CIA and Vista. That’s the way Ed was leaning with his theories.”

“That narrows it down to about a half dozen people."

“And still leaves Jeff on the list.”

“Jeff? Jeff wouldn’t–”

“Honey, your boyfriend tried to kill you, I’m not sure you’re the best judge of men.”

“Yes, thanks for pointing that out.” MJ still held the envelope in her hand, certain now she didn’t want to open it. She was afraid it would tempt her in directions she didn’t want to—couldn’t—go.

MJ felt the weight of Tasha’s eyes.

“Hard to think about, isn’t it?” she asked.

Tasha’s gaze reflected the pain MJ felt. “What took so long?” MJ asked.

“It took Ed years to gather this information without alerting anyone to what he was doing. Even now, the information isn’t complete, and I’m still looking for the last link.”

“No. I understand that. I mean what took you so long to tell me?”

“When Ed died, you were still in recovery. I took the information he left, but didn’t look at it. I left immediately for a job. When I got back, I read over the info, and you still weren’t in shape to help me track this down.

“Next thing I know, you’re adopting a baby. New mommy. I sure wasn’t going to ask you to be a part of this.”

“But Vista brought me in anyway.”

“Yes, I thought they would eventually try to bring you in if there was a leak like I thought. They would be desperate to quietly stop me. I thought you would refuse, too.”

“I tried. They threatened to mess up the adoption.”

Tasha nodded. “Someone must be real panicky.”

MJ asked, “Did you ever consider going through the proper channels for justice? Instead of this . . . route?"

Tasha raised her eyebrows. “When you read that information, you come back and tell me the normal channels would work.”

MJ wasn’t sure she really wanted to know; from the little she already knew, she suspected Tasha was right. The sky hadn’t lightened enough for her to read anything anyway. “So, what’s next?” She realized now there would be no bringing in Tasha.

“Aside from hunting for the leak at Vista, I’m also looking for the link between Russia and the Senators.”

“Why don’t you go to Russia?”

“Yes, well, it’s looking . . . more like . . . that . . . will be necessary.”

Tasha hesitating over words? Totally out of character, what the hell? Suddenly MJ had that proverbial flash of insight and she knew. “You sent Niko.”

Tasha gave a tight nod, a tiny admittance to a weakness she rarely showed.

“And you haven’t heard from him.”

A headshake this time.

MJ remembered something Ben had said. “He might be in prison? Damn.” MJ’s heart took a dive to her stomach.

“I’ve got contacts looking for him, but so far no word.”

“Damn, damn, damn,” MJ repeated. Her stomach lurched with the thought of Nikolai missing, at the best in prison with no contacts, at the worst possibly dead. No matter his experience, his skill with the language, or his heritage, and no matter the end of the cold war, Russia was no country to mess around with.

Although death was and always had been a real possibility every time they went on a job. Most agents weren’t married, but MJ didn’t understand how the spouses of the ones who were, watched their loved ones walk out the door to possible death time and again.

She wouldn’t.

But no sense in thinking about it, since she’d never have to worry about it anyway. It was the reason Nikolai remained off limits to her, hard enough thinking about him as a dear friend in danger. And Ben might be coming out of a funk, but he’d no doubt go back into the field– Hang on, why the hell did she care whether Ben went back into the field or not?

Moving decisively beyond the thought, MJ flipped open the seal on the envelope, the sky now lightening enough so she could at least scan the contents.

Before she pulled out the papers, she looked around at the miles of tree-lined highways before them. “So where are we going?”

“To find that link,” Tasha answered so casually as if her plans were widely known and acknowledged.

“Hold it,” MJ protested, “I can’t get caught up in this. I’m trying to adopt Angelina. The adoption agency will certainly frown if I turn to a life of crime.”

“No crime. We’re only going to ask this old man questions, not kill him.”

MJ couldn’t resist. “Or screw him?”

Tasha shot her a disgruntled look. “Relax, the old guy’s in a wheelchair.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

* * *

Toll road after toll road, four hours later they crossed Ohio, approaching the West Virginia border when MJ’s cell phone rang.

“When I catch up with you, I’m going to wring your damn beautiful, deceitful–"

“Hello, Ben.”

“Ten frickin’ miles. I walked ten frickin’ miles on bare feet before my frickin’ cell phone would work. My toes were like ice cubes, I wasn’t sure they’d thaw out or break off.”

“At least we left you your clothes.”

Dead silence. One beat. Two. Three. Four. MJ waited. Five. Six.

“You expect me to be grateful for that?”

“Well, your penis didn’t turn to ice; frozen toes aren’t so bad when you look at it that way,” MJ pointed out, drawing a chuckle from Tasha.

“What?” Ben’s voice held no trace of humor.

“And, at least your cell phone was charged.”

“I have blisters the size of–”

“You’re welcome.” She couldn’t keep a grin out of her voice as she imagined the look on his face.

“It would’ve been fun to watch him walk those ten miles naked,” Tasha added, and MJ realized the cell phone reception reverberated through the small car. “That would’ve almost been worth sticking around for. Next time we’ll take his clothes.” Tasha winked at MJ.

Ben heard her as well. “Not to disappoint you, Tasha, I won’t be shucking my clothes around either one of you, now.” His tone clearly indicated frustration.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Tasha said toward the phone with a grin that resembled a contented cat.

“Puh-lease, both of you.” MJ shook her head. Life with these two promised not to be boring, but frankly she was ready for boring again in the form of a small Texas town.

Ben’s voice lowered, perhaps with the hopes of keeping Tasha from eavesdropping. “You ran out on me again.”