Bridal Armor (5 page)

“Which is why I’m here. Someone thinks they are back in business. I thought you might take the news better from me.”

“Who’s the source? What are your orders?”

“As I said, the source was need-to-know, but I was assured the information is verified and legitimate.”

He swore. She couldn’t blame him; she felt the same way working in the dark like this. “My thinking was we’d review who had the most to gain from this kind of allegation and trace it backward to the real source.”

He was quiet a long time, focused on the slippery roadway she assumed, as they slogged up the mountain toward the cabin.

“How can you run any sort of valid investigation if you don’t have all the facts?”

“Come on, Thomas, you already know the answer. We work in the shadows and follow orders. If you have facts to share, I’m all ears.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the lousy condition of the road or the fading adrenaline, but Thomas didn’t seem eager to give her any reply. Pushing him felt counterproductive, so she used the silence to pray they could figure this out before his enemies caught up with them.

Chapter Six

Glenstone Lodge, 7:00 p.m.

Victoria Colby-Camp looked out over the muted landscape that fell away from the wide windows of the chalet resort. In just a few short hours, what had been a stunning view full of color had turned into something more appropriate for the monochromatic beauty of an Ansel Adams exhibit.

“We certainly went from autumn to winter in record time.” She couldn’t help being in awe of nature’s power. “It only adds to the beauty up here.”

“I doubt anyone trying to drive through it would agree with you,” her husband noted.

She thought of his car accident during a case in Texas and rubbed the resulting chill from her arms. “Lucas, you said Thomas would stay in Denver tonight.” She hoped he wouldn’t attempt reaching the lodge in this weather.

“And he will. Don’t worry about him, he’s safe. You look lovely.” He kissed her softly, and her heart fluttered. Even after all these years his touch thrilled her. “Almost perfect.”

“Almost?” She caught the teasing tone and leaned back, wondering what he had up his sleeve.

He drew a slim, velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Something to commemorate the occasion.”

“Occasion?”

“An entire resort full of friends who have become our family? There have been plenty of our investigators who’ve married, but this feels like a milestone. The interlinking of the very best, the Colby Agency and the CIA, with the solemn vows of marriage.”

“Hmm. I could get used to this.” Victoria opened the box and couldn’t suppress a sigh. “Oh, Lucas, it’s gorgeous.” Sapphires sparkled among diamonds in a gleaming platinum setting. “Help me put it on. My hands are shaking.”

“You’re steady as a rock about everything else,” he said with a smile.

“I’m entitled to a weakness.” She kissed him. “Or two.”

They left their suite to join the party downstairs, meeting Ian and Nicole Michaels at the elevator. Ian had long been Victoria’s second-in-command at the Colby Agency. He had been at her side almost from the beginning.

“This was the best idea,” Nicole said to Victoria while they waited. “Every room has an amazing view. We saw some deer out near the trees before the storm rolled in. The children were ecstatic.”

The four of them boarded the elevator and Victoria’s heart was full seeing the people she cared about most so happy and content. Though her agency worked hard to be the best in the business of private investigations, Lucas was right: these people were their family.

“It may be a wedding party,” Ian said with a wink for his wife, “but this kind of snowfall requires more than a mere snowball fight. I’m going to have the groom add an all-out war to tomorrow’s schedule.”

“Choose sides carefully,” Nicole threatened. “I think the bride has the groom wrapped tightly around her little finger. Levi may not be entirely dependable.”

“What do you think?” Ian looked to Lucas. “Boys against the girls?”

The elevator doors parted. “Only if you’re prepared to lose.”

Nicole elbowed her husband. “Now
there
is an intelligent man.”

Victoria smiled. It wasn’t often the Colby family, much less anyone from the CIA and its Mission Recovery team, could just relax and enjoy.

As they entered the great room, Victoria’s breath caught. The decorator had outdone himself. Despite the rustic lodge setting, the white satin bows and the elaborate flower arrangements added the perfect element of bridal glamour. White candles flickered amid bowls of what looked like pearls. Yet it was the bride and groom-to-be who positively glowed as they chatted with Levi’s mother near the massive stone fireplace.

Casey spotted them and hurried over. After a quick hug and an admiring examination of Victoria’s new bracelet, she turned to Lucas. “Have you heard from Uncle Thomas?” Her bright smile dimmed just a little. “He hasn’t called Mom or me.”

“His plane landed on time,” Lucas assured her. “He considered hoofing in on a pair of cross-country skis, but I told him to stay in Denver tonight.”

“There’s an image,” Casey said with a quick laugh. “I just expected him to call me when he landed.”

Though she doubted anyone else noticed, Victoria saw the brief flicker of surprise in Lucas’s eyes.

“With this kind of storm the networks must be swamped and there are probably localized power outages already.” Lucas wrapped an arm around the bride’s shoulder, guiding her back into the party. “No reason to worry. The roads will be clear enough for him to travel tomorrow.”

Casey took a deep breath and smiled as Levi joined them. “Uncle Thomas is safe in Denver,” she told her husband-to-be.

“That’s great news.” Levi was clearly relieved, as well. “The weathercasters say this monster storm will be long gone by our wedding day.”

As the delighted couple drifted off to chat with other guests, Victoria gave Lucas a pointed look. He’d gone way overboard in his assurances. Something was up.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Chardonnay, please,” she answered. “But that won’t distract me from wondering what you’re up to.”

“Terrible to waste good wine and good company worrying over what can’t be changed.”

She shrugged a shoulder and turned on a bright smile. “You’ll tell me eventually.”

Though he’d been surprised by Thomas’s lack of communication with his niece, Victoria knew her husband well enough to know he wasn’t particularly worried about his friend. Come to think of it, he wasn’t the sort of man one worried about. Thomas Casey was James Bond personified. There was little he couldn’t overcome with a roll of duct tape and a toothpick.

Lucas cleared his throat. “In the meantime, we’re snowbound in a beautiful chalet with good food and people who love each other. I, for one, intend to enjoy it thoroughly.”

With a glass of wine in her hand, Victoria visited with the bride’s mother, listened to the bride and bridesmaids’ adventures in shopping and planning for the big day and kept a keen eye on her husband.

She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or worried for the storm’s interference with the cell service. It was nice to relax and focus on the life and promise bustling around her, but semi-retirement or not, she was accustomed to staying in contact with the world.

When the resort opened up the dining room for dinner, Lucas appeared at her side. As with the rest of the arrangements and activities so far, everyone seemed delighted and happy. Again, the decorations were well-done. The lovely touches of white reflected the winter wonderland outside.

Victoria was pleased to see Casey and Levi relaxed, but she caught the telltale look in her husband’s eyes. “You’re thinking about Thomas.”

“Only that it’s a shame he’s stuck in a hotel room missing this.”

“Well, the food is definitely better than any room service he might order tonight.”

“So’s the Scotch,” Lucas said with a wave of his glass. “How is the bride?”

“I’d say she’s managing her nerves. Levi and her friends are keeping her distracted. Her mother is steady as ever.”

“She’s had a lifetime of practice waiting out unexpected delays first with her own work as well as her husband’s in the CIA, not to mention her brother, Thomas. Raising a daughter determined to follow in their footsteps and now having to handle all this without Casey’s father.”

It had been a year since Casey’s father died but Victoria felt sure it wasn’t easy to be the mother of the bride without her lifelong partner. She took a sip of her wine. “I’ve always thought weddings are just a shade easier for a groom’s mother. For Casey and her mother’s sake, I hope Thomas gets here first thing in the morning.”

“I can’t imagine he’ll waste any time,” Lucas said. “Walking her down the aisle might make him nervous, but only in the best possible way.”

Victoria smiled, anticipating the wedding. “It’s sure to be a memorable moment for all of us.”

Chapter Seven

Jason spent another thirty minutes tailing the Jeep, while he waited for word from the office. Naturally, there were plenty of places she might be headed, but he just didn’t believe she was going anywhere other than Glenstone.

The blizzard was getting worse and he knew better than to miss the next check-in, or worse, have no new intel on DeRossi when he called.

He had the woman’s photograph and the information on the temporary license plate. It would have to be enough for now. Resigned and frustrated, he took the next exit and headed back to Denver and DeRossi’s hotel.

Orders or not, there was no way he would sit back and allow open season on Director Casey to go unanswered. The man had done too much for Jason, personally and professionally.

He turned up the volume on his phone and opened the police scanner app in case they got into some new trouble.

The director was more than a boss or mentor; the man never asked his Specialists to do more than he himself was ready to do. Lessons and memories flashed through his mind as he battled the weather to get back across town.

Nearing the airport, he dialed DeRossi’s hotel and asked for her room number. When no one picked up, he ended the call and then dialed her official cell number. That call went straight to voice mail and Jason hoped it meant his search of her room wouldn’t get interrupted.

He found a parking space that afforded a quick exit if necessary and braced for the long walk through the bitter weather. Cold and wet, the warmth of the lobby was a welcome relief. He brushed the snow from his hair and rubbed the chill from his hands as he strolled toward the main elevators. He pressed the button for the floor above DeRossi’s and, knowing how to blend in, he chatted about the unexpected weather with the other guests who boarded the car.

When the elevator stopped at his floor, he exited and deliberately took the long way around toward the stairwell nearest the service areas. It took him a few minutes, but he found a maid with her cart and gave a room number. He sweet-talked her out of extra towels, while pocketing her key card, then headed for the stairs.

Down one flight, towels under his arm, he moved quickly to DeRossi’s room. He knocked, paused, then swiped the card through the reader.

His gaze swept the room, taking in details with one swift glance. She’d left clothes on hangers, and the luggage rack was out, but there wasn’t any luggage in the room. He spotted a cell phone charger in the outlet by the desk, but the tablet he’d seen her use at lunch yesterday wasn’t here. Everything pointed to her intention to return, so he quickly searched for any clues about why she had intercepted the director.

“What do you know that I don’t?” He whispered the question into the empty room as he opened drawers, peeked under both mattresses and searched in and around the mini fridge and microwave.

Finding two wigs explained how she’d slipped by him, and it made him feel all the more determined to find something relevant now.

He paused, hands on hips, feeling every second tick by. Holt wanted to know what DeRossi knew and Jason couldn’t imagine admitting another failure today. The main area of the room was clean so he moved toward the bathroom and vanity, mentally crossing his fingers he’d find something to report.

All of the places he would have hidden something vital were empty. He worried someone might have beaten him to the search, but the room was so clean there was no way to tell. The stunning redhead he’d run into twice already popped into his mind and he pulled a penlight out of his inner pocket. Turning it on, he scanned the room for any sign of her, but came up empty. Jason shook his head. Finding a stray red hair was a long shot and he had to quit following tangents and find something worthwhile for Holt.

He knelt down and peered at the underside of the sink and swore at the flap of tape hanging down.

Surely there had been a more infuriating assignment in his past, but he was hard pressed to remember it right now. He stood up, searched the pockets of the clothing she’d left behind, but there was nothing.

DeRossi had proven more of a challenge than he’d anticipated, and it only put his instincts on high alert. The cosmetic case on the vanity was the only item left he hadn’t examined and, with hope dwindling, he poked through it.

Beauty tools, small pots and tubes in various colors and a fabric headband did nothing to shed light on her purpose with the director.

He was running out of time. Any minute the maid would report her key card missing and a few basic questions would have the security team searching for him.

Frustrated, he checked his reflection in the mirror, tucked away the penlight and smoothed his suit jacket. What had he expected? A detailed outline of her plans signed by DeRossi lying on the desk?

He was reaching for the door when it hit him. Turning back to the vanity, he went through the cosmetic case once more, confirming what wasn’t there. No toothbrush or toothpaste.

“Well, well.”

She might have a reservation for this room through Monday, but she had something else planned between now and then.

The second examination of the cosmetic bag proved more valuable as he spotted a tube he’d assumed was just a different brand from the rest of her cosmetics. No, this wasn’t a lipstick, it was a flash drive.

He might not know exactly where she was going, but he was finally getting somewhere. Provided this wasn’t just a collection of her favorite photos. And it was a relief to know he wouldn’t be wasting time loitering in the lobby for her return.

Re-energized, he glanced through the peephole. Seeing no activity in the hall, he pulled the door open a crack and then slipped out. Keeping his head down, he walked toward the opposite stairwell and dropped the key card on his way back down to the lobby.

He reached his rental car without incident and cranked the heater as he called Holt to bring him up to speed.

“Did you find DeRossi and the director?” Holt demanded.

“Not yet, but I know where she isn’t.”

“Meaning?”

He thought of the flash drive, but didn’t want to mention it until he knew it mattered. “Her room is clean, but she’s not planning to be back tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Jason hoped he wouldn’t have to explain his certainty.

“Any sign of the problem child?”

“Maybe.” For some inexplicable reason, Jason hesitated to mention the explosion or that he’d spotted the redhead there. This was Holt, his boss, trusted as Thomas Casey’s second-in-command for years. “DeRossi had a rental car stashed in long-term parking. It was blown up a couple of hours ago. No casualties,” he added before Holt could ask.

“Any clues?”

“Nothing substantial yet.”

“Stay on it and stay alert.”

The line went dead and Jason stared at it for a long moment, a part of him wishing he hadn’t passed along that much information.

Something felt off and he just hadn’t been able to put his finger on it just yet.

He called around until he found a motel with a vacancy on the west side of town. It was his third room in as many nights and he experienced the rare sensation of wishing for some stability.

As a Specialist his stability was the team, not the location. Sleeping in the same bed two nights in a row had never been that important to him. This was the wrong time to be thinking of anything other than the enigma that was this case.

It took him twice as long as it should have to reach the place and Jason was thrilled to finally be out of the car. He tossed his bag on the bed and set his laptop on the desk, turning it on. While it booted up, he put the frozen pizza he’d picked up from the kiosk in the lobby in the microwave. Before he left town he vowed to have a thick steak at the best steak house in the city.

He was about to put the flash drive in the port when his cell phone rang. He waited for the second ring to display the caller’s information, but the unknown number icon flashed on the screen along with a local area code. “Jason Grant.”

“It’s Casey.”

Adrenaline fired in his veins. “Sir. Are you safe?”

“For the moment, but I haven’t reached the resort yet. Agent DeRossi needed to ask me a few questions away from the office.”

Jason actively listened for any distress in the director’s voice, any clues to his location. It was a relief he sounded at ease, if not relaxed, but he would have preferred some direction.

“Sir, I’ve been ordered—”

“I’m changing your orders. I need you to pull an immediate background check with last known location and contact on a criminal known as Whelan. Off the record.”

Jason wanted to explain his current assignment and give the director some warning but it would have to wait. “Should I report back at this number?”

“No. Send it on to Lucas Camp. He’s at the lodge with the wedding party.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll explain later. This information is only for Mr. Camp.”

Jason promised, and surprisingly the director thanked him before ending the call. He was used to Holt’s more abrupt style of barking an order and hanging up before anyone had a chance to ask a question.

Tempted as he was by the flash drive, Jason worked on Whelan’s background first. Being a Specialist gave him access to several databases that didn’t officially exist, but going through normal channels meant someone would know he’d been poking around.

He didn’t think that’s what the director had in mind. Whelan was widely known throughout the intelligence community as a creative genius with all things that could catch fire or go boom. He was also known for selling his skills to the highest bidder and he regularly evaded custody and prosecution for his destructive and usually lethal devices.

Jason had only bumped into his work once before. Twice if he counted this afternoon. Assuming the director’s inquiry meant he thought Whelan was behind the explosion at the airport parking lot.

Fortunately, he still had discreet friends who could help him learn what Casey needed to know. He winced as he checked his watch and did the math, knowing he’d wake up Brian O’Marron, his pal he’d met during a short stint with Interpol.

He entered the number and waited for it to ring on the other side of the Atlantic. The motel phone would have been more secure, but O’Marron wouldn’t bother to answer an unknown caller at this hour. While Mission Recovery analysts might dump his phone logs if things fell apart on this assignment, Jason knew that would take some time. And if questioned, he could offer other valid reasons beyond the director’s concerns for making this call. With the phone to his ear, he rubbed his temples trying to get ahead of the tension headache he felt building behind his eyes. This was the safest of his limited options to get the information the director needed.

Provided O’Marron ever answered his damn phone.

After exchanging not-so-pleasant greetings considering the imposition of time, Jason explained his call. “There was an incident today with a car bomb at an American airport.”

“Denver,” O’Marron said. “I heard.”

“Then you’re saying he’s here?”

His friend went so quiet Jason thought the call had dropped. He held the phone out and verified he still had a signal.

“Were there fatalities?”

“No,” Jason replied.

“Then it’s bloody well not Whelan.”

O’Marron had a point. “Humor me. What do you know about his recent activity?”

“Did you catch the usual signature?”

“No, but it took me a few minutes to get to the scene and the blizzard could have masked that by the time I arrived.” The redhead came to mind again. “Has he picked up an apprentice or held a clinic lately?” They both knew he’d done both in the past. The man would do anything for cash.

“Level with me and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Keep yanking me around and we’ll do this in person.”

“As if I can’t have you stopped, strip-searched and detained at the border.”

Jason laughed. His friend would be surprised when his stunt failed. Mission Recovery had unprecedented credentials and a variety of ways to circumvent that type of power play. “Hospitable as ever. Come on, help me out and I’ll owe you one.”

“You’re confident this is Whelan’s work?”

The fact that Director Casey thought so was enough of an endorsement for Jason. “Unless you have intel that says otherwise, yes, I think we can credit him with today’s incident.”

“Except no one died.”

“Come on, O’Marron.” Jason bit back the sharp retort. “If you can’t give me confirmation, give me something to rule him out. And hurry. I could lose the call any minute with this storm.”

“Whelan entered the States four weeks ago, escorted by American authorities.”

Which was O’Marron’s way of saying it could be anyone from the CIA to Homeland Security who’d extended an engraved invitation to Whelan.

“Where was he before that?”

“Germany, again, but he slipped our net.”

“Anything on recent associates?” Like a gorgeous redhead with a killer smirk? The signal popped and crackled, and O’Marron’s voice came through in fragments.

“...rumor about a contract...an American agent. Doesn’t...stock in that...said they met—”

Jason nearly threw the phone when it showed the signal had been lost. There were too many possible interpretations of those fragments. With a measured sigh he set the phone on the charger. O’Marron had given Jason more than he’d had before. Now he just had to get that information to Lucas Camp.

He turned on the television and scanned the local channels, all of which were reporting on the freak storm. The way this was unfolding, Jason would rather do this face-to-face, but there was no way he’d get up to the Glenstone Lodge tonight in a rented sedan without snow tires.

If the cell towers were out here, chances were good they weren’t working any better in the higher elevations. He picked up the room phone and heard a dial tone.

Hopeful, he drafted a quick note for Lucas, making it as secure as possible under the circumstances, and then he headed down to the front desk.