Person of Interest (9 page)

Any other emotional wringers she put herself through related to him were a total waste of energy.

Slowly, piece by piece, she put the contents of her closet back to order, purses and all.

She thought about snagging a few items to take back with her, but she wouldn’t be there much longer. There was no need.

As soon as she opened the door she flipped off the closet light. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She thought about turning on the flashlight but there was really no reason since she knew her way around her own bedroom.

“You finished with what you came here to do?”

She stumbled back, gasped, before her eyes finally made out the image of someone sitting on the bench at the foot of her bed. The voice left no question as to identity.

Hennessey.

“Yes, I guess so.”

Since he made no move to get up she sat down next to him.

Joe told himself to get up, to get the hell out of her bedroom, but he couldn’t.

He kept torturing himself over and over with the images her words evoked even now. He knew with certainty that Maddox had made love to her in this
room. With her on top…with him behind her. His hands on her breasts.

Every breath he drew into his lungs carried the scent of her. Her room, her whole house, smelled of her. Nothing but her. She was a doctor. She was never home long enough to cook. Only to soak in a tub of fragrant water. To shower with her favorite soap and shampoo.

She didn’t wear perfume. Only the soap or maybe the subtle essence of the lotion sitting on her bedside table. He hadn’t needed to turn on a light since arriving to see any of this. He’d been here with the techs when they’d gone through her things. He’d touched the undergarments she wore next to her skin. Had inhaled the scent of her shampoo.

And then he’d watched her. Twenty-four/seven for weeks. Until he’d thought of nothing but her.

“He used me, didn’t he?”

The fragile sound of her voice carried more impact than if she’d screamed at him from the top of her lungs.

“Yes, we believe so.”

Silence.

“For how long?”

“That we don’t know.”

“That’s why you said you wouldn’t lie—” she swallowed “—like he did.”

“Yes.”

“So…” She sucked in a ragged breath, tearing the oxygen out of his with the vulnerable noise. “Maybe it was real in the beginning?”

“Maybe.”

More silence.

“I loved him, you know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears he heard in her voice. “I know.”

“Do you know how he died?”

That information was off-limits to her…but how could he let her wonder. “He died in the line of duty. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Will you take me back now?”

“Yes.”

Joe stood. He reached for her hand and led her from her room, along the short hall and down the narrow staircase. He’d been in her home enough times to know the layout probably as well as she did.

He locked the door for her when they’d exited the rear of the house. Then they walked quietly through the moonlight until they reached his sedan.

Nothing else was said as they made the trip back to the safe house.

Joe took several zigzagging routes to ensure they weren’t followed.

Daylight wasn’t far off when they finally parked in the garage.

She got out and went inside. He didn’t follow immediately.

He needed to walk off some of the tension shaking his insides. He’d alternated between wanting to yell at her and wanting to kiss her. Managing to get by without doing either was a credit to his sheer willpower.

He’d wanted to make her forget that bastard Maddox, but he’d resisted.

She didn’t need him taking advantage of her vulnerability.

He might be a lot of things, but that kind of jerk he wasn’t.

Inside the house he trudged up the stairs. He dreaded lying down again knowing sleep would not come. Their earlier candid discussion had kept him awake the greater portion of the night as it was.

He’d known when she left the house.

He’d followed but hadn’t interfered at first, only when she’d stayed too long he’d had no choice.

The time he’d given her had been enough. She’d come to her own conclusions in her own time which was best. Anything he’d said or asserted would only have been taken with a grain of salt, would have put her on the defensive.

He didn’t bother with the light in his room. Just kicked off his shoes and peeled off his shirt, inhaling one last time the smell of her where her arm
had brushed against him as they’d sat on the bench in her room.

He stripped off his jeans and climbed into the bed. He was tired. Maybe he’d catch a few winks after all.

The instant his eyes closed her voice whispered through his head. Every intimate detail she’d relayed today echoed through his weary mind. He fisted his fingers in the sheet, tried his best not to think about how her nipples would feel against the palms of his hands. He licked his lips and yearned for her taste.

He could have gotten up and taken a cold shower. Probably should have. Instead he lay there and allowed the sensuous torture to engulf him. Didn’t resist.

He was too far gone for that.

E
LIZABETH LAY
in her bed, her knees curled up to her chest. Director Calder had known the truth. Hennessey had known. Maybe even Dawson.

She was the only one who hadn’t had any idea that David was using her.

How could she have been so blind?

She clenched her jaw to hold back the fury. How could he do that to her? He’d professed his love for her and all along he’d been using her.

How long had he planned his little coup?

At least one thing was for sure, he hadn’t gotten to enjoy the fruits of his evil deeds.

A part of her felt guilty for thinking about his death that way, but the more logical part of her reveled in it. He might have used her, but he’d paid the ultimate price in the end. Along with three of the agents she’d given new faces.

Her stomach roiled with dread.

Who else would die before Hennessey could stop this?

Was there nothing she could do?

Give them new faces?

But if it were that easy the CIA would have suggested it.

No.

It would never be that simple.

Hennessey would have to risk his life to get close enough to the devils behind this to take them out.

One was a woman.

A woman who would undoubtedly expect him to make love to her as David likely had. And then she would know that Hennessey was an imposter.

Heat rushed through Elizabeth in spite of her troubling thoughts. She just couldn’t help the reaction. She needed him—wanted him.

But that would be yet another monumental mistake on her part. She didn’t need to make any more mistakes far more than she needed to indulge in heart-pounding sex with Hennessey.

But she could dream about him. And how it would feel to have him kiss her and hold her close.

There was no rule against fantasies.

She remembered that night three months ago when he’d held her against him in the darkness. His body had felt strong, powerful. His muscles hard from years of disciplined physical activity and maybe from the feel of her backside rubbing against him.

When she’d touched him tonight…felt the size of him against her palm, she’d wanted to rip off his clothes and look at all of him for a very long time. Just look. Then she wanted to learn all there was to know about him on a physical level.

How he tasted…how his hands would feel gliding over her skin…

She drifted off to sleep with that thought hovering so close she could have sworn it was real.

Director Calder remained seated at the table but Joe was far too restless to stay in one place. He poured himself a fourth cup of coffee and grimaced at the bitter taste.

“You’re absolutely certain you’re ready to do this?” Calder asked once more. “Any further delay could be detrimental to our chances, but I’m not willing to run the risk of sending you in too soon.”

“Do I look ready?”

Joe faced the man the president himself had chosen to oversee one of the nation’s most important security agencies and let him look long and hard. He’d put the colored contacts in this morning. He’d wanted to try them out while Elizabeth was preoccupied going over dates with Dawson.

Calder moved his head slowly from side to side. “You look just like him.” He blew out a breath. “It’s uncanny, Hennessey.”

Joe nodded. “I know.” Even he had been shaken this morning. As he’d gone about the morning ritual of going to the john, he’d caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and done a double take. His tousled hair had looked like it always did first thing in the morning, but his face…well, suffice to say it wasn’t his.

The swelling and redness was gone entirely—at least as far as he could tell. It was as if he’d gone to bed last night with a little of both and then this morning
poof.

He’d gone back to his room and called Dawson. He needed a distraction for Elizabeth until he could get used to the change himself.

She’d mentioned a day or so ago that sometimes this sort of abrupt change happened, but he wasn’t prepared. He seriously doubted that she would be either.

Once he’d put the contacts in he’d had to brace himself on the counter to keep from staggering back from the mirror. The transformation had been incredible.

He, for all intents and purposes, was David Maddox.

“We knew Elizabeth was good,” Calder went on, “but this is beyond our greatest expectations.”

Joe had been watching this new face emerge from the aftermath of surgery and he’d known the transformation would get him by, but this was far more than that. This was almost scary.

He thought about Elizabeth and the way she’d sneaked back to her home the other night. He’d wanted to comfort her. To hold her until she came to terms with the way Maddox had used her. But he’d held back. She hadn’t needed any more confusion. She’d needed someone who understood…someone to listen and he’d done both those things.

In the three days since she’d been distant. Not that he could blame her. She’d just learned that the man she’d loved had cheated on her, used her. Had likely never really cared about her. That was a hard pill to swallow, even for a fiercely intelligent woman who was also a skilled surgeon.

Learning the truth had, in a way, facilitated what had to be done. Elizabeth had focused more intently on their work and so had he. A lot had been accomplished.

He was ready for this mission.

“Where is she now?”

“She’s with Dawson. He’s going over significant dates with her to see if she recalls anything relevant.”

Calder frowned. “Haven’t we already done that?”

“I needed her distracted for this meeting.” Joe leaned against the counter and forced down more of the coffee.

“You’re still convinced she had nothing to do with this,” Calder wanted to know.

“Totally convinced.” Joe set his cup in the sink. He’d had all of that brew he could stomach. He moved to the table. Though he still felt too restless he needed Calder to see just how convinced he was. “She had no idea what Maddox was up to. I think you know that.”

Calder nodded. “I do. It’s Allen who’s still not on the same page with us. But I’ll take care of him.”

Joe breathed easy for the first time since this operation started. He knew what Maddox had done. No way would he stand idly by and let Elizabeth take the fall for anything that bastard did.

“Is it essential that we wait the next three days before I go in?” Joe ventured. He knew the plan as well as anyone, but he wasn’t sure staying here with Elizabeth for seventy-two more hours was a good idea.

“We have to trust our intelligence, Hennessey,” Calder said, telling him what he already knew but didn’t want to hear. “Word is that she’ll be in-country in just over forty-eight hours. We don’t want to rush this thing.”

The director was right, no question. But Joe’s instincts kept nagging at him to get into position. There was nothing specific he could put his finger on. The best analysts in the world were processing new intelligence every hour of every day. If anything had changed, Joe would know it right after Calder.

The fact that Calder was literally sitting in on this one personally made it the highest priority mission. So far three agents had been ambushed, two while involved in an ongoing mission. Stopping those assassinations was imperative. Additionally, Dr. Elizabeth Cameron had been Calder’s brainchild. He had personally brought her into the Agency’s family. He and Dawson, discounting Maddox, were the only ones allowed to approach her, until this operation. Joe had a feeling that Calder felt responsible for the woman’s safety as well as her actions, good, bad or indifferent.

When Calder had gone, Joe went back to his room to study his reflection in an attempt to grow accustomed to the face staring back at him. It wasn’t easy, considering he would have liked to rip Maddox apart himself if someone hadn’t beat him to the punch. That the bastard’s body hadn’t been recovered only infuriated Joe all the more. But three credible eyewitnesses had testified to what they had seen. The shooter had been found but he’d refused to talk and ended up offing himself the first chance he got.

Whoever had sanctioned Maddox’s termination was powerful enough that his reputation alone had ensured the shooter wouldn’t turn on him.

The remaining questions were about Maddox’s associates. Who had wanted the list of agents with
new faces? Even if Joe infiltrated the group, could he be sure they would talk? Not even the CIA could stop a nameless entity. A name, a face, they needed anything to go on.

Before more bodies piled up.

“I’
M SORRY
, Agent Dawson,” Elizabeth said finally. “That’s everything I remember. If there was anything else during that time frame I can’t recall.”

“That’s all right, Dr. Cameron.” He closed the document on the computer. “What you remembered will be useful.” He stood then. “We should probably get back.”

Elizabeth followed him from the borrowed office in the rear of the downtown library. She wasn’t sure why he had insisted they review all the newspaper reports from the three months prior to David’s death. Maybe to prod her memories. She hadn’t remembered anything she hadn’t told them already. But she hadn’t minded taking another shot at it. She was only human. It was just as likely as not that she could have forgotten something relevant.

But she hadn’t.

If she were honest with herself she would admit that getting away from the safe house for a few hours was a good thing. Other than her one excursion back
to her brownstone she hadn’t left in three weeks. She was thankful for the respite.

The other night when she’d had to face the reality of what she’d denied about David for months she’d almost asked Hennessey to sleep with her. She’d so desperately needed someone to cling to, she’d resisted that crushing need by the slimmest of margins. Thank God he’d had his head about him. All he would have had to have done was touch her, in the most innocent fashion, and she would have surrendered without a fight.

For the past three days she had felt pretty much numb. Empty, really. Everything she’d thought to be true about David was nothing but lies. Learning that truth had hurt, but not so much as it would have had she not suspected that there was someone else months before his death.

But just beneath the numbness she had felt these last few days lay something else that simmered steadily. She told herself it was nothing, but that was a lie. She’d been attracted to Hennessey since that first night three months ago when he’d shown up to play bodyguard. That attraction hadn’t abated. Not in the least. But with David’s death and the idea that agents she had given new faces were dying, she hadn’t been able to think about that for any length of
time. Even now, maybe it was the exhaustion or just the plain old emptiness still hanging on, her developing feelings for Hennessey were too far from the surface to analyze with any accuracy.

And why in the world would she even want to go there?

Hennessey was the farthest thing from what she needed as a man could get. He represented everything wrong she’d done in her last relationship.

Why couldn’t the irrational part of her that wanted to reach out to him see that?

He was one of those dangerous types. A man who risked everything, every single day of his life. She couldn’t count on him any more than she had been able to count on David, excluding his various and sundry betrayals.

What she needed was safe, quiet, bookish.

A man who spent his days behind a desk reviewing accounts or reports. Not some gun-toting, cocky hotshot who kicked ass at least twice before lunch most days.

She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind as Dawson took the necessary clandestine route back to the safe house. Thank God no more agents had died.

And although she hadn’t seen Hennessey this morning she knew the time was close at hand for his
departure. The swelling and redness had been all but gone yesterday. She’d struggled with focusing on the work rather than the end result.

It was far less painful to look at each feature individually rather than to look at his face as a whole. But the one saving grace was his eyes.

Joe Hennessey had the most amazing blue eyes. Even with his face changed, those startling blue eyes made it virtually impossible to notice anything else.

His flirtatious personality emanated from those eyes.

The deep brown of David’s still haunted her dreams occasionally, but lately the only man she’d been dreaming about was Hennessey.

Such an enormous mistake.

Why couldn’t she get that through her head?

She saw it coming. If she could just hold out a little while longer.

Three more days and she would go back to her life. He would go wherever it was David’s associates were suspected of being and most likely they would never again see each other. The end.

She squeezed back the emotion that attempted to rise behind her eyelids. She’d done her job, had prepared Hennessey for the operation. There was nothing else she could do. Nothing else she should do
until this was over. Then she would reverse the procedure, assuming he survived.

Getting on with her life was next on her list. She could not wallow in the past or pine after a man who would do nothing but bring her more heartache.

She had to be smart. Making the right decisions about her future had to be next on her agenda. Her career was everything she’d hoped it would be. Now if she could only say the same about her private life.

There was only one way to make that happen.

Put David Maddox and anything affiliated with him out of her head. Move forward and never look back.

It was simple.

But before she could do that she had to be sure she had passed along every tidbit Joe Hennessey would need to survive the coming mission. Even though she fully understood that a relationship between them would be a mistake, she didn’t want him hurt. Whatever she could do to facilitate his efforts was not only necessary but nonnegotiable.

By the time she and Dawson had reached the safe house it had started to rain and a cloak of depression had descended upon her despite her internal pep talk. The sky had darkened, much like her mood.

When the garage door had closed, ensuring no one who might be watching had seen her emerge
from the vehicle, she got out and went inside. She shook off the nagging weight that wanted to drag her into a pit of regret and dread. This wasn’t the end, she assured herself, this was a new beginning.

Hennessey would move on with what he did best and she would refocus some of her energy into her personal life. She’d neglected that area for far too long.

Life was too short to spend so much time worrying about all the things she’d done wrong. All the mistakes she’d made. She had to look ahead, move forward.

How many times did she give her patients that very advice? All the time. The kind of devastation that wrought physical deformities more often than not was accompanied by chronic clinical depression. At times, even after full recovery, a patient would linger in the throes of depression’s sadistic clutches. Patients had to make a firm choice, to wallow in the past or move into the future.

She had to do the same.

No more dwelling on yesterday. Time to move forward.

Elizabeth hesitated at the door, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and took a long, deep breath.

“Your future begins now,” she whispered.

Without looking back, Elizabeth pushed through the door and into the laundry room of the safe house.

The smell of Chinese cuisine alerted her to the time. Lunch. Stark must be on duty. Whenever he was the agent in charge of bringing in meals, his food of choice was Chinese. Not that she minded, she liked fried rice, a lot.

Agent Stark looked up as she entered the kitchen section of the large living space. “You’re just in time, Dr. Cameron.”

She inhaled deeply. “I noticed.”

“I see you made it back, Doc.”

Elizabeth looked up at the sound of Hennessey’s voice. Her chest seized and her eyes widened in disbelief. She closed her eyes and reopened them in an effort to clear her vision. It was still him…
David.

“I started wearing the contacts,” he said as he tapped his right temple. “The change in eye color definitely put the finishing touch on the look.”

He said the words so nonchalantly. She blinked again, told herself to breathe. She couldn’t. Managing a nod was the best she could do.

Hennessey gestured to the counter. “You hungry?”

He moved like Hennessey. He spoke like Hennessey. But no matter that she told herself that what
she saw was an illusion she, herself, helped to create, she just couldn’t get past it. Pain twisted in her chest, radiated outward, encompassing her entire being.