Deliberate Deceptions: Hauberk Protection, Book 3 (2 page)

“I never said I love Chad.” She’d never admitted it in words but… She thought back, desperate to remember exactly what had been said that day. Was the fight itself enough to tell Harris—and everyone else who’d overheard—how she felt?

“Maybe not in so many words that day, but you did discuss it with Doc Brewer at your last assessment, didn’t you?”

“Those files are private.” Her eyes widened at his implication. “Harris read them?”

He nodded. “We just discovered someone accessed them last month. We can only assume it was Harris.”

“You’ve read them too,” she whispered.

“I’m in charge of the unit, Lauren. I read everyone’s reports. But I didn’t need a report to tell me you still had strong feelings for Chad.” He chuckled darkly. “Luckily for you, the way you insisted on not being stationed back here in the States led everyone else to assume it was out of hatred for Chad, not love.”

“I didn’t want to come back because I wanted to avoid Thalia.” Not to mention avoiding the park where she used to take Emily for walks. The hospital where she was born. The Mall where Chad had proposed on the steps of the Lincoln Monument. The condo they had worked so hard to buy that had later become their prison thanks to the media frenzy after Chad had defied Bureau protocol.

“I didn’t know what Thalia had done until you two had that fight, Lauren,” Cooper said quietly. “If I had, I would have said something sooner.”

“Do you know what she did?” She blew out her breath in a slow stream, forcing her shoulders down.

“I know that she was the one who recommended you to Sir Ian when he was running the Brigade and arranged for you to stay out of the country. And I know she hired the solicitor in London so it would look to Chad as if you were seeking the divorce, not him.” He tilted his head as he observed her. “Am I right in assuming she’s the one who recommended you stay at Tranquil Pastures?”

“Yes. Damn it, I should have flown back here and talked to him face-to-face instead of believing her or that damned lawyer. I had no idea she hated me that much.”

“It’s not that she hated you, it’s that she loves her brother over everything else. And why wouldn’t you believe her? What reason would you have had to suspect she was lying when she told you Chad was with someone else, that they were living together?”

Not to mention how he’d never replied to any of the letters she’d sent him that first year or the ones from Dr. Maudsley either. Had Thalia found some way to prevent Chad from getting them? Did it matter anymore?

She closed her eyes in an effort to calm the maelstrom raging inside. At her anger at Thalia for interfering. Her disgust at not discovering the deception for all these years burned with glowing embers of long-simmering resentment. Her rage against Harris burned brightly, its flames licking hungrily at her patience

“Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe she just saw the inevitable. We were already in counseling. Neither of us handled Emily’s death well. With Chad facing the inquiry and all that press…he was better off without having me distracting him.” She settled back in her seat.
 

She’d mourned the loss of her marriage as much as she’d mourned her daughter.

“So you’re not interested in resolving any issues between you and Chad? Seeing if there’s still a chance of having a relationship with him?”

God, don’t give her hope. It would only be torn from her the way it had been before. She couldn’t take losing Chad again. “Just how would we do that after all this time?”

Cooper laid out his plans quickly and succinctly, hope rising in her soul with each step he revealed. The hopes mingled with the thought that he was crazy. Or brilliant. Maybe both. His plan would keep her safe, as well as Chad. Plus, it would let her finally see Chad again, to find out if he hated her for being so weak that she’d walked away when he’d needed her most. No, not walked. She’d run away with her tail tucked between her legs. Cooper was right—she needed to see Chad face-to-face one last time. If for no other reason, to apologize. And explain.

Icy fingers of fear doused the flames. What if Cooper’s plan didn’t work? He leaned forward. “If you’re worried about Thalia interfering again, she’s been taken out of the equation. She and Spencer are staying with a friend of mine who can keep them safe until Harris is found.”

“What about Sam Watson? How are you going to explain about me considering he doesn’t know about the Brigade?” There were so many stumbling blocks to his plan, and Hauberk’s owner wasn’t the least of them. If he decided not to help, he’d move heaven and hell to keep her and Chad apart. Maybe he’d even known Thalia’s plan from the start.

“Ed Weir is on his way to Hauberk as we speak. That’s why we’re waiting here on the tarmac. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be getting back on the plane and flying off to wherever Hauberk plans on stashing you. Somewhere Chad will be your captive audience.”

Would it be possible to undo the ten years—more—of damage that distance and ill feelings had wrought between them? He hadn’t answered her question about whether Sam knew about his involvement with the Brigade.

“You’ll have that second chance at your marriage you told Brewer you wanted.”

Did she dare hope that? Or was it too late? Had too much time built a wall between them? Would it be too high for her to scale, to tear down and rebuild their marriage? Could they stay alive long enough to find out?

 

 

The last invoice stamped and initialed, Chad placed it on top of the rest in his out box with a sigh. Damned paperwork. It didn’t matter how much he signed today, there’d be a whole new pile waiting for him tomorrow.

He opened his top drawer and stared at the silver-framed photograph. Emily with her beautiful, toothless grin, her chubby fist clutching her favorite stuffed bear. Lauren holding Emily, her expression bright and proud. Who knew when that picture had been taken, less than a month later the chuckles and smiles would change to anguished sobs that, to this day haunted his dreams.

The day after he’d been served with the divorce papers, he packed the picture away. The following day he’d retrieved it. He’d compromised by tucking the frame where he could look at it without anyone else knowing. At least he’d managed to wean himself down to looking at it only a couple times a day instead of several times an hour.

“Got a minute?” Hauberk’s owner, Sam Watson, filled the doorway. Only the sharpness of his gaze belied the casual way he leaned against the frame. Sam probably knew about the picture and its hiding spot so why the hell did he bother with the deception?

Even so, Chad slid the drawer shut and nodded. “Of course.”

Sam closed the door behind him, then settled himself into one of the visitor’s chairs opposite Chad, the leather creaking beneath his weight.

They discussed the various reports that had come in the night before, the state of the new office Sam was setting up in Seattle, and a half dozen other unimportant topics that had Chad responding by rote. While Sam droned on, Chad rolled his pen in his fingers. The light fractured on the brushed gold, the engraved initials so worn they were barely legible. His sister Thalia had given it to him—crap, fifteen years ago. The day he’d graduated the FBI’s academy.

Sam pulled a cigar from his pocket and eyed it. “Damn, I wish I’d never promised Sandy I wouldn’t smoke during office hours.”

“You’re the boss. Tell her it’s your office and light up anyway.” He suppressed the smile that threatened to break out imagining their assistant’s righteous indignation. Sandy would have Sam quivering in a corner in a heartbeat.

As he’d expected, Sam snorted. “Yeah, right. Then she’d move all my files on my computer, or rename them so I couldn’t find anything.”

“More likely she’d serve you one of those flowery teas she likes. Force you to drink it in front of Jimbo Williams.” They both knew how one of their wealthiest and most influential clients judged a man by how he took his coffee.

“Shee-it. I can hear him now.” Sam adopted a nasal tone pitched two octaves higher than his usual bass. “
No real man puts pansy-assed creamer or sugar in his coffee
,
Sammy, not if they’ve got a dick between their legs. Don’t send some pinky-wavin’ tea drinker to guard me either. You might as well cut off my nuts and call me Sally.

Controlling the smile at Sam’s perfect imitation of their client, Chad carefully placed the pen so it lined up with his day planner. “Why are you here, Sam?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t come here to discuss Jimbo Williams.” He lined the day planner up at perfect angles to the blotter that was precisely in line with the desk edge. “Or the new office in Seattle. Or how the newbie screwed up last night.” He looked pointedly at Sam. “By the way, I will talk with him about that, not you.”

Sam grimaced and slid the cigar back in his pocket. “A little birdy told me that on Sunday the Post is running a ‘where are they now’ feature and you’re one of their targets.”

His balance tilted as if someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. “Aw fuck, Sam, you know they’ve played that angle before. Hell, the fires were still burning in the Pentagon when that headline hit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam had been mentioned often enough but, according to press reports, he’d been following orders like a mindless robot. “I also know of the cases our office was handling back then, none involved any of those terrorists and there’s no way your decision was responsible for the attacks. You know the press. They’ve got to have their story and they’re ready to use any angle they can to boost their sales.”

Chad tilted his head to one side then the other in an effort to loosen the tightening neck muscles. “So we wait it out. It’ll be a headline for the weekend, then some other scandal will erupt and they’ll move on. Face it, Sam, it’s a non-event. I’m old news.”

“Maybe so, but why don’t you take a few days off yourself? Take a vacation. Get out of Washington.”

Chad blinked before he caught himself. “You think I’m going to run out when you and Rosie are due to leave for Hawaii in—” he checked his watch, “—nine hours? Someone has to stay and look after this place.”

“Yeah, about that.” Though Sam didn’t look away, he shifted in his seat as if he were uncomfortable. “We’ve rearranged things. Looks like I’m gonna be around for a while.”

Rosie had been fretting for weeks about finally meeting Sam’s mother but there’s no way in hell she would have cancelled out. So why…shit. Sam wanted to distance Hauberk from Chad’s sullied reputation. After all he’d done to help build up the company until it was one of the biggest on the eastern seaboard?

“You think I’m a detriment to the company.”

“Shee-it, no.” Sam’s hand drifted to his pocket, seeking the cigar again. With a curse, he lowered his hand, his fingers flexing, restless. In other words, yes, but he couldn’t admit it.

“Do you want my resignation? Because if you do, it’ll be on your desk in thirty minutes. You want to buy me out too?”

“No, I don’t want your resignation or to buy you out. You’re half of Hauberk, for fuck’s sake.”

“But you don’t want me around the office for a while, do you? You don’t want our clients reminded of why Hauberk got started. Because of my fuck-up.”

Sam stood and leaned over the desk, planting his fists on either side of the blotter. “I suggested you get away because you’re more than my partner, you’re my friend, damn it. I suggested you get away because I hate to see you hounded by the press, enduring the crap they fling at you. You took the heat for me back then, at least let me take some heat for you now.”

“I deserved the heat. And those reporters?” He flung an arm toward the window. “They were right. If you and Jill had been available for another case, it would have freed up two other agents who might have freed up two other agents somewhere else who might have tumbled onto the 9/11 conspiracy.” He played his trump card. “Maybe Jill would still be alive.”

Sam’s expression went blank, and his voice lowered, a sure warning sign he was approaching meltdown. “That’s a low blow, even for you. Especially for you.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? I’m the one who sent you two undercover without authorization. If you hadn’t been following my orders, Jill wouldn’t have been killed, and you wouldn’t have ended up flat on your back in hospital with a bullet a half inch from your heart.”

“Maybe Jill would still be alive, but Thalia—your own sister, damn it—would be dead. Butchered.” Sam folded his arms across his chest, a sure sign he was settling in for a fight he didn’t intend to lose. “Who knows how many others Vandeburg would have killed that night? Or gone on to kill another night if I hadn’t taken him out?”

Even hearing that man’s name was like having someone twist a knife in his guts. Goddamn the bastard. How many people—living and dead—had David Vandeburg destroyed? Was he still destroying?

“It was the MPDC’s responsibility to catch him.” He was relieved that his voice stayed level as he recited the mantra his superiors had chanted right before they’d taken his FBI badge and let the door hit his ass on the way out.

“We both know they were only doing drive-bys. They wouldn’t have caught him that way. You think I haven’t gone over your decision a million times? Wondered if maybe those headlines were right? You made a decision to catch a killer when everyone else turned their backs because of who he was killing. Because of you, we stopped a serial killer.”

“The point is I went against orders. I deserve the heat, Sam. Every fucking bit of it.” His voice was flat, betraying none of the rage that roiled in his chest. Thalia might not be dead, but she’d never walk again. He’d failed to protect her despite everything he’d done.

A knock on the door had them both turning around. The head of Hauberk’s International group, Troy McPherson, strolled in, looking grim, followed by another man Chad didn’t recognize. “Sam, Chad, I’d like you to meet Ed Weir. Ed’s got an employee who needs a safe house.”

“Nice to meet you, Ed.” Sam rose to shake Weir’s hand. “Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll work out the details.”

Weir sprawled on the couch instead of taking the leather visitor’s chair Sam pushed his way. He hitched one ankle onto his knee. “As McPherson said, I’ve got a business associate who needs to be kept somewhere safe until we can find the bugger who’s threatening her.”

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