Secret Identity (18 page)

He grimaced. “Jesse and I didn’t see eye to eye about my working for MacLear. He thought I should have joined the Marine Corps like he did. Like my brother Wade did later.”

“And now he owns a private security company like MacLear,” she said with a wry smile.

He shook his head. “Not like MacLear. Jesse is nothing like Jackson Melville. My brother and I don’t agree on everything, even now. But I would trust him with any of my deepest secrets.” He met her gaze with conviction. “I’d trust him with any of yours.”

She cupped his jaw with her palm. “You’re lucky to have family like that.”

She’d never told him anything about her own family situation, of course. Knowing she was a CIA operative, he’d never expected her to. He wasn’t sure he could expect her to tell him anything now, either. But he couldn’t help wondering why she seemed so utterly alone in the world.

What kind of background must she have had to cut herself off so willingly and completely from her family?

“Let’s do it,” she said.

He leaned toward her, his voice a low growl. “Do it?”

She smiled, pressing her fingertips against his mouth. “Slow down, big boy. I meant, let’s talk to your family.”

He drew back again, studying her face. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?”

He nodded. “You can trust them all.”

JESSE COOPER LEANED BACK in his desk chair, his gaze directed toward the panoramic scene outside the wide plate-glass window of his second-floor office. Waning sunlight cast deepening shadows across the gently sloping landscape leading down to Gossamer Creek. If he followed the meandering waterway to the south, he could reach Gossamer Lake within ten miles. Beyond the creek, there was a steep drop-off, giving him an unimpeded view of Chickasaw Valley. The breathtaking panorama of rolling farmland and wooded wilderness made his office the envy of everyone who worked at Cooper Security.

None of his family had seemed to worry much about how he’d been able to afford the large, modern office space so soon after deciding to open Cooper Security. He supposed his reputation within the family for being the straight shooter had been enough to forestall any questions that might have occurred to them.

He wasn’t thrilled with keeping things from them, in truth, but when he’d taken on this job, he’d agreed to certain terms.

Absolute discretion was one of the biggest.

The phone on his desk rang, the call coming in directly to his phone, bypassing the switchboard. He never worried about the phone ringing while he was away—Heller never called on the landline unless Jesse called first. And Jesse never called unless it was an emergency.

He wondered if Maddox Heller would consider Amanda Caldwell’s arrival an emergency.

He answered on the third ring. “Cooper.”

“Which one?” asked the low Georgia drawl on the other end of the line.

“The sane one,” Jesse answered with a grin.

“I didn’t know there were any,” Maddox Heller zinged him.

“Funny.”

“What you got?”

Jesse told his old friend about Amanda Caldwell’s arrival and what Rick had told him of their ordeal in Tennessee. “Looks like MacLear’s SSU has reconstituted itself on the down low.”

“Damn,” Heller murmured. “I really thought we were shed of those cockroaches.”

“Guess we’ll have to get back to stomping on them one at a time,” Jesse replied. “But the more pressing question is, what do they want from this woman?”

“What do you know about her?”

“She’s someone my brother knew when he was working for MacLear in Kaziristan. Nobody’s said so, but I get the feeling she might have been CIA. I don’t have any contacts with the company, but I figured you might.”

“One or two,” Heller admitted. “Let me do some asking around.”

“Thanks.” Jesse heard the sound of a child’s voice over the line. “Is that your kid?”

“Yeah, Iris is working at the greenhouse today, so I’m watching Daisy. I swear, that baby’s grown an inch since she got out of bed this morning.”

Jesse felt a twinge of envy. He’d had a chance, once, to be a husband and father. He’d chosen the Marine Corps instead. For the most part, he didn’t regret the choice. But once in a while, something like the sound of Maddox Heller’s daughter laughing on the other end of the line brought home the things he’d given up for his service to his country.

“Give me a day. Then call me and I’ll check back in with what I’ve learned,” Heller said.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Cooper, what you’re doin’ for me outweighs anything I can do for you. I know what it cost you when I asked you to do it. I’m not likely to forget that anytime soon.”

“It’s not the big sacrifice I thought it would be,” Jesse admitted, turning away from the window. He was finding his work at Cooper Security more satisfying than he’d imagined he could. It was still service, after all.

Without the government middleman.

AMANDA HAD STIPULATED only a couple of ground rules. First, she would talk only to Coopers. None of the other agents at Cooper Security were invited to the powwow. And second, she wanted to have the meeting at Isabel’s house. For whatever reason, she’d begun to think of the rambling old farmhouse as a sanctuary, the first place she’d felt safe in a long time.

How much of that sense of security was a result of having Rick constantly by her side, she didn’t want to contemplate.

She was relieved that the Cooper siblings began arriving before her jittery hormones could escalate the sexual tension between her and Rick.

She’d like to think she was wise enough to keep her wits about her, especially in the middle of a dangerous situation still developing. But now, as during the time they’d spent together in Kaziristan, she found herself in grave danger of losing control when Rick was around. She’d taken far too many chances when they were sneaking around Tablis in search of places to be alone and give in to their mutual passion.

She had to be smarter now than she had been then.

Isabel had arrived first, with food, the unmistakable aroma of smoked pork wafting all the way to the bedroom, drawing Amanda to the kitchen. She found Isabel at the counter, pulling takeout boxes out of a huge bag emblazoned with a bright red logo that read Billy’s Pit Stop.

“Hope you’re not a vegetarian,” Isabel said with a grin.

“If I were, the smell coming out of those boxes would convert me,” Amanda replied with an answering smile. “What can I do to help?”

“Sit down and keep me company. You need to be resting.”

“Please, don’t mommy me,” Amanda growled in frustration. “I’m feeling so much better, and I’m ready to pitch in and do my part.” She leveled her gaze with Isabel. “Of everything.”

Isabel nodded slowly, her smile fading. “I know how frustrating it can be when you’re sidelined.”

Amanda caught a glimpse of the sadness she’d seen in Isabel’s eyes earlier. This time, she couldn’t quell her curiosity. “You were sidelined?”

Isabel sighed. “Permanently, I guess. I was put on desk duty at the FBI after my partner was murdered in a bombing a few months ago. I just didn’t have the heart to be micromanaged when I wanted to be out looking for his killer.” Her lips thinned with irritation. “Insubordination doesn’t go over very well in Washington.”

“So you didn’t quit?”

“Oh, I quit,” she said with a nod. “But only because I saw the termination coming.” Isabel was saved from any further explanation by the sound of the front door opening. She shot a wry look at Amanda. “Family never knocks.”

A slim, wiry-looking woman in her late twenties entered the room, carrying a couple of plastic jugs of tea, one in each hand. She had wavy auburn hair, storm cloud–gray eyes and a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Despite the different coloring, there was enough resemblance between the newcomer and Isabel for Amanda to assume this was another of Rick’s sisters.

“Amanda, this is my sister Megan. Meggie, this is Amanda.”

Megan set the jugs of tea on the counter and smiled at Amanda. “Nice to meet you, finally.”

Amanda made a mental note to ask Rick just how much he’d told his family about her. “Same here.”

“Shannon’s on the way,” Megan told Isabel, reaching up into the overhead cabinet and bringing down several drinking glasses. “That’s our younger sister,” she added for Amanda’s benefit, flashing a wicked smile. “The baby of the family. Prepare for a display of merciless teasing.”

“She’s twenty-six, but feel free to treat her like she’s still in high school,” Isabel said. “We all do.”

“I’m feeling lucky to be an only child,” Amanda murmured.

“Oh, it’s not all unrelenting cruelty,” Megan said with a laugh. “Let an outsider mess with any one of us and there’s hell to pay from all of us.”

“I’m kind of counting on that,” Amanda admitted.

“Rick asked Alicia to come, too,” Isabel said. “I know she’s not strictly part of our family—”

“Cousins-in-law are in the gray zone,” Megan agreed.

“—but we all agreed that she can offer something we can’t,” Isabel finished.

Amanda arched an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“She’s a licensed hypnotherapist,” Megan answered.

Amanda felt a flutter of alarm. “And that’s good because?”

The two sisters exchanged quick looks before Isabel turned to Amanda and spoke in a low, serious tone. “Because we think you should undergo hypnosis.”

Chapter Eleven

Rick arrived at Isabel’s house just as Alicia was driving up. He joined her on the flagstone walkway, eyeing her with a little curiosity. He hadn’t invited her to the family conference, wanting to ease Amanda into the circle of family trust one step at a time.

“Surprised to see me?” she asked.

“Not because I think you shouldn’t be here—”

“But you didn’t want to overwhelm Amanda?” she guessed accurately. At his nod, she added, “I figured that.”

“So who invited you?”

“Megan and Isabel.”

“Do I want to know why?” They had reached the front door of the farmhouse. As Alicia started to knock, Rick forestalled her, opening the door without the formality of an invitation. “Family,” he said with a wry grin.

“Yeah, still having to get used to you Southern people and your quaint ways,” Alicia answered in a low, equally wry tone.

They found Amanda in the kitchen with Isabel and Megan. Tension floated through the air, as tangible as the mouthwatering aroma of barbecue.

“You told her already?” Alicia eyed Rick’s two sisters, who looked both guilty and annoyed.

“They did,” Amanda answered for them, her eyes flashing cold blue fire.

“Told her what?” Rick moved to Amanda’s side.

Isabel’s eyebrows lifted slightly at his show of solidarity with the outsider. “That we think she should consider hypnotic regression,” she answered, her tone defensive.