Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 (37 page)

“Where are we going?”

“Virginia,” he answered, short but not sweet.

“What's in Virginia? Is that where the musclemen are from?”

“No. It's where I'm from. And it's also where the locker is that your key, or I should say
my
key, belongs to. Buckle up. We have a long drive.”

Lacey peered over at the speedometer and rolled her eyes. “At the speed you're going, you're right. This could take forever.”

CHAPTER THREE

“M
erry Christmas.” Wade pulled away from the drive-through doughnut shop, passing over a steaming paper cup to Lacey. Her long dark lashes blinked over her sleep-fogged eyes as she roused from her slumber with a wide yawn. She looked at the cup in his hand quizzically. “Coffee,” he said. “Black. I figured that's the way you liked it.”

She arched a dark eyebrow at his presumption of her drink tastes, but quickly unhooked her arm from his uncle's makeshift sling so she could grab the warm cup in both hands. She averted her gaze to the passenger window while she sipped. Her deep sigh proved he'd been dead on about the not-so-dainty Lacey's coffee tastes.

“Thank you,” she mumbled after another sip, her deep Southern voice resonating through the cabin. Such a strong voice for a small woman, he thought. But it was good that she was small. As it was, her legs were plastered to the door because Promise and her seventy-pound frame took up most of the confined space. Wade was glad to see Lacey give the dog room, even if that meant an uncomfortable ride for herself. “And I guess I should say Merry Christmas to you, too. I suppose this is not how you planned on spending the holiday, or your military leave, for that matter. Not that I care.” She turned his way, her chin lifted. “Because I don't.”

With his view to the road, he hoped she couldn't see him suppress a smile. “Of course not. Why would you? But let me set the record straight, just so you don't lose any more sleep over my missed holiday, while you're not caring, of course. They're not my plans. They're my sister's. I'd just as soon have stayed on base. So
my
plans didn't work out anyway this year.”

“I always say making plans is useless,” she said, taking another sip. “Just go unless God tells you no. That's my motto.”

Wade huffed at her silly remark. “No offense, Lacey, but I don't think your
motto's
working for you.”

“Offense taken. You don't know anything about me.” She took off the handkerchief and tossed it at him. He picked it up off his lap and stuffed it into his combat jacket's bottom-right pocket. Apparently, he'd touched on some nerve, but why stop there?

“I know all I need to know about you. You came north on Christmas Eve with nothing but a key and not a thought to what you might be venturing into. You were nearly killed because of your ‘just go' motto, and yet, you put yourself right back into the line of fire for a glimpse at some shiny cars. In the army, we have a term for people like you.
Liability
.”

“Now, see, I like to think of it more as quick-witted. After all, you're here right where I wanted you. When I showed up on your doorstep, you weren't going to give me the time of day. Just admit it. ‘Go home,' you said. Now you're stuck in a car with me while I interrogate you to my heart's content. I'd say my motto is working out just fine.” She blew at the steaming cup and turned to her window, mumbling, “Just don't tell my mother.”

Wade eyed the back of her silky hair. It was knotted a bit from sleeping on it all night. He wished he had a comb for her. A cough escaped his throat at his outlandish thought. Promise lifted her head to assess his well-being. To assure her he was fine, Wade jumped back into the conversation. “Your mom doesn't see things your way, I take it. I think I like her.”

“You would.” Lacey swung to face him again. Her hair fell in a huge chocolaty curl over her shoulder.

Again with the hair, he thought. He was so used to grooming Promise on a daily basis, he must be going soft.

Lacey put out her free hand. “Speaking of which, may I use your phone? My parents are going to be expecting me for Christmas dinner tonight, and I don't see that happening now.”

Wade's attention drifted from her outstretched hand to her expectant face as her words registered. When they did, he barked out a laugh. “See what I mean? Your motto's not working for you. You thought you'd be home for Christmas dinner after driving up the East Coast one day and back down the next? That made sense to you?”

She pursed her lips in irritation. “Just give me the phone.”

“Can't. Chucked it.”

Her hand dropped. “What do you mean you chucked it?”

“It's called Planning Ahead 101. Let me enlighten you. These aren't your street gangs doing drive-bys. For us to move forward safely, we must think strategically not only with our strategies, but theirs. That means lose anything they can even remotely trace us with. So sayonara, phone.”

Lacey put her coffee in the cup holder and sagged against the hand-stitched leather seat with a sound of defeat. Promise, sensing turmoil around her, immediately stirred and pushed to a sitting position. Wade reached out to touch her so she would feel that he was fine, but before he did, Promise brought her paws to Lacey's lap and rested there with imploring eyes.

Wade felt his mouth drop. Promise had never tried to comfort anyone besides him. Wade wasn't jealous; he was just surprised. He watched to see if it would work, and sure enough, a few absent strokes from Lacey and Promise had succeeded with her mission—to calm her down.

And Lacey didn't even realize it.

That part Wade was jealous of. He wished Promise always succeeded with him like that, but there were times...

“Fine.” Lacey broke into Wade's dispiriting thoughts. “I get it. Phone's gone. It's for our own protection. I'll find a pay phone or something.”

“Your parents' phone most likely has a trace. You can't call anyone.”

Lacey's face crumpled in an instant. “You're serious. This is bad.”

“Your brother is dead. You tell me.”

Lacey glanced out the window to the late-morning sun rising up from Virginia's eastern seaboard. “I can't tell you anything because
you
won't tell
me
anything. How can I plan ahead when all I have is a key?”

“All right, Questions. What do you want to know?”

“First, I want to know who these people chasing me are.”

“I don't have that answer because I, myself, don't know.”

“Then, how do you know they can track us?”

“Because they found your brother when it was his business not to be found. Your brother was a research analyst in the United States Army's counterintelligence department. Do you know what that entails? Let me enlighten you. Gathering intelligence under the radar.”

“So you think he died because of something he knew.”

“I
know
he died because of something he knew.”

“Did it have something to do with the army?”

“No. It had something to do with me. I meant it when I said I killed him. I may not have caused the explosion, but I set the fuse when I asked him for help.” Wade gripped the steering wheel and took the next turn for a parking area. He shut the car down and kept his eyes in the rearview mirror. After thirty seconds, a black Lincoln slowly drove by. He kept the info to himself. No need to cause Lacey to make more panicked decisions. She may think she made her choices calm and collected, or quick-witted, as she touted, but her past choices weren't life-and-death as they were now.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Train station. There's a locker inside that the key belongs to. Jeff and I used it as a dead drop.”

“What's that?”

“When two people want to pass information to one another without being seen together, they can establish a place to leave the intel.”

“Intel? Why does this all sound like some sort of spy mission? Wait. Was Jeff a
spy
?” The idea looked as if it was about to make her head implode. Wade knew the feeling.

“Not Jeff. He was just helping me get information on the side.” Wade swallowed hard. Once he told Lacey all he knew, she would be in so much danger. But as of last night, she was a target anyway. Whether she knew it or not, she was a dead woman by just being near him. “Your brother wasn't the spy, Lacey. The spy was my mother. And apparently, she's still killing people from her grave. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're most likely next.”

* * *

Wade's mother was a
spy
? For whom? Lacey puzzled over this while they hustled toward the train station. She had never known anyone who was a spy, or even knew someone who knew someone. She supposed they were out there, but that world was so far out of her reality, it seemed as if it belonged to Hollywood. Except the bullets that came her way last night weren't blanks, and for someone to use real bullets on her, they obviously didn't want some secret to get out. She wished she could tell them she didn't know anything, their secrets were safe. But she supposed now she did know something and that made her a liability to someone.

Liability
. Just as Wade had referred to her. She didn't want to let on, but his term for her hit hard. How many times had she heard her mother say Lacey would be the death of her?

Lacey swallowed hard and put it out of her mind for Wade's ogre of a mother instead. “So all this cloak-and-dagger stuff has to do with your mom?”

“Not here,” Wade said with his hand at her lower back, pushing her toward the entrance. “We'll talk later.”

Concern saturated his voice. She glanced back to see him searching the road to his left. “Are the shooters here? Did they find us? It was probably your driving. You should let me drive next time.”

“There won't be a next time if we don't keep moving.”

Lacey ducked deeper behind the collar of Clay's suit coat as she picked up her step.

Promise barreled along with her, matching her stride, protecting her like a guard. Wade hadn't even had to tell her to do so, the dog was so smart.

They reached the entrance door, but at someone's yell to “Stop right there!” they halted in their tracks.

Lacey shot a look to her left, expecting to see one of the musclemen, but instead, she made contact with Wade's muscled back in her face. He completely stepped in front of her, pushing her behind his wide frame as if she needed his protection. She may be small, but she could hold her own.

Lacey shifted to Wade's right to see who shouted at them to stop. One look, and she saw a security guard headed their way. But one glance from Wade, and she knew he was about to blow his top.

“Get back behind me until I know it's safe,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Just because I'm Jeff's little sister, you don't have to protect me. I'm tough, and he taught me everything I need to know to ward off danger.”

“This isn't your little racetrack. The moment you left home to come see me, you put yourself on a much more dangerous course. One that puts me in a position to protect you. Now get behind me.” His blues blazed like ice.

Lacey slunk back behind him as the guard stepped up. “That dog can't be in here.”

“She's a service animal,” Wade replied, his voice monotone. “Where I go, she goes.”

“You don't look disabled to me,” the guard said, and Lacey dropped her mouth in astonishment at the guy's callous remark.

With every second of being kept hidden, Lacey felt her blood boil. A look to her feet and she could see the toe of her boot tapping. The next second, Promise nudged her clenched fist and grabbed her attention. Slowly, Lacey released her fingers to dig them into the dog's soft golden-red fur. She watched her fuzzy eyebrows bounce, first one then the other. It reminded Lacey of a dancing caterpillar, and made her giggle. So quick, her anger simmered to a slow boil, then to nothing. There was just no getting angry around this animal. Promise offered so much love and made a person redirect their negativity into a positive response to return her love back to her.

“No, I don't suppose I do,” Wade replied to the guard. He reached into his back blue-jeans pocket under his army coat and removed his wallet. Lacey could hear him flap out a folded piece of paper she could only assume he handed over to the guard to read.

Lacey thought he would say more about his PTSD injury, but he didn't.

“We're very strict about animals on the trains. Service animals only,” the guard said.

“As you can see by the document, she's certified.”

That was all Wade planned to say? Lacey risked a glance from behind the patch on his upper right arm. The guard pored over the paper, obviously hoping for some falsification. She couldn't stand here and allow this unfairness to go on. She had to speak her mind.

“This man is a captain in the US Army. He fought for you to keep your freedom. He has a right to have this dog to help him now.”

“Lacey,” Wade warned. “Not every battle is worth the fight.”

“Promise is worth it. And so are—” She stopped abruptly. The false words of affirmation stuck on her tongue. However indirectly, this man was responsible for her brother's death.

“Not to worry. I know I'm not worth it.”

The guard handed the paper back. “Where's the dog's vest and leash?”

Wade reached into one of the many pockets of his coat and traded the paper for something red. “I have the vest here, but we had to leave in a hurry and the leash was forgotten.”

An excruciating amount of discretion time punctuated the conversation. Finally the guard said, “The dog should be on a leash...but since it's Christmas, I'll let it go. Just put the vest on her.”

Wade snapped the red service cape to Promise's collar, then grabbed Lacey's arm to move her forward, but the guard halted them again with “Hey, buddy.”

Wade turned back. “Yes?”

“Just so you know, I am thankful for your service.” The guard nodded and went back to his post.

Wade didn't wait for any more interruptions. “We've got to move,” he said, hustling her forward.

He led the way down some stairs to a row of lockers against a wall. After a quick look around the near-empty station, he put out his hand for the key.