Code conspiracy, p.19
Code Conspiracy, page 19
A swarm of dark-suited agents swarmed into the room, guns drawn, and Gray’s Delta Force team gave way to them.
“Oh, well.” Jerrica flicked her fingers in the air. “My father did break the law.”
Epilogue
“Now, this is my kind of party.” Jerrica wiggled her red-polished toes in the water as she sat on the edge of the Prescotts’ pool, Gray beside her.
Martha Drake, Cam Sutton’s girlfriend and the CIA translator who’d been sent the initial emails implicating Major Denver, sipped a sweating glass of iced tea. “I just can’t believe Patrick Collins, the assistant director, was involved. Or, wait, maybe I can believe it. He never took our investigation seriously, did he, Cam?”
“It wasn’t just Collins. We couldn’t get anyone to take action. The setup against the major should’ve ended there.” Cam scooped up some water from the pool and dribbled it on Martha’s thigh.
“You can’t believe it? How do you think I felt about that?” Sue Chandler, Hunter Mancini’s fiancée and the only CIA officer present, motioned to their son on the edge of the pool. “Jump!”
“Daddy. I want Daddy.”
“Of course, you do.”
Hunter used his powerful stroke to swim across the pool. He patted his chest. “Right here, buddy.”
“You can’t jump yet.” Asher Knight lowered his wriggling daughter into a plastic inner tube while his fiancée, Paige, held it steady. “Paige and I knew the plot had to go all the way to the top. They’d gotten to the doctors in rehab. I’m just sorry I played into their hands.”
Paige kissed him over their daughter’s head. “That wasn’t your fault, Asher, and the fact you discovered what was happening, despite your injuries, helped Major Denver even more.”
Cam saluted. “That’s right, Asher. We only hated you for a few weeks.”
“At least my fellow volunteer at the Syrian refugee camp finally debunked the story of Major Denver being involved in the bombing there.” Hailey Duvall, Joe McVie’s girlfriend, slipped into the pool and ducked her head beneath the water, ruining a perfect hairstyle. When she popped up, she pointed a toe at Jerrica. “If you’re looking for a few reputable charities to fund with your money, Jerrica, I can give you the info.”
Joe came up beneath Hailey and lifted her in the air. “Run, Jerrica. She’s going to turn you into a do-gooder like her.”
“What I can’t believe is the traitors were actually going to use sarin on American citizens. The nuclear weapons components stashed at the embassy outpost my brother was guarding must’ve been decoys for Major Denver.” Logan Hess’s girlfriend, Lana Moreno, rubbed some suntan lotion on her mocha skin.
“Let me do that.” Logan smoothed the oil on her back. “Your brother is a hero, Lana. When is that baseball field going to be dedicated to him?”
“Soon.” She grabbed Logan’s oily hand and kissed it. “I just hope you’re not deployed when it happens.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
All heads turned at the sound of Major Denver’s voice.
Cam waved his hand in the air. “The man finally shaved his beard and cut his hair, which actually makes you look older.”
Denver threw a plastic football at Cam’s head. “Watch yourself, son.”
The major sat on the edge of a chaise lounge. “Did you all hear that the drone was located, thanks to Jerrica, and disarmed?”
“My father told us.” Gray kissed the inside of Jerrica’s wrist.
Martha pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was happy to hear you and your fellow Dreadworm coworkers aren’t going to face any charges.”
“We cooperated fully and gave them evidence against Olaf in the murder of Kiera Cramer.” Jerrica shivered despite the warm sun on her bare back.
“Not to mention, you saved the country.” Gray cupped her jaw with one hand.
“Hear, hear!” Major Denver raised his glass in the air, and the others followed suit.
“And our own Major Denver is not facing any charges for going AWOL.” Gray raised his glass.
Sue swiveled her head left and right. “Looks like you’re the only one not paired up, Rex.”
“I’m good.” He held up his hands. “The last thing I need right now is dates.”
Denver jumped into the pool, splashing everyone and acting as a catalyst as the others followed him into the water.
As Jerrica shifted closer to the edge of the pool, Gray put a hand on her waist. “Do you know where your father is going to be imprisoned?”
“They haven’t told me yet.” She rubbed the end of her nose.
“I’m sorry it came to that.”
“He’s not. He was tired of looking over his shoulder, tired of kowtowing to Olaf. At least now I can visit him.”
“Have I told you how amazing you are, hacker girl?”
“Just about a million times. It broke my heart when I saw the look on your face when you thought I’d sided with Olaf.”
“I should’ve known better.”
“Why? I never gave you much reason to trust me.”
“You gave me plenty of reasons. Except...” He smoothed his hand over her thigh.
“Except what?”
“I don’t think you’ve told me you love me since I stumbled back into your life.”
“Oh, I’ll have to remedy that right now because I do—with all my heart.” She leaned over and touched her lips to his ear.
Just then, Cam grabbed her ankles and pulled her into the pool. “C’mon, we’re ganging up on Denver. It might be our only chance while he’s still feeling indebted to us.”
Jerrica rolled onto her back and pushed off the side of the pool with her feet. She tilted her head back and shouted, “I love you, Gray Prescott.”
After all, she didn’t have to keep her love quiet anymore.
* * *
Don’t miss the books in Carol Ericson’s previous military miniseries,
Red, White and Built: Pumped Up:
Delta Force Defender
Delta Force Daddy
Delta Force Die Hard
And be sure to check out the first two books
in her Red, White and Built:
Delta Force Deliverance miniseries:
Enemy Infiltration
Undercover Accomplice
Available now from Harlequin Intrigue!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Deadly Cover-Up by Julie Anne Lindsey.
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Deadly Cover-Up
by Julie Anne Lindsey
Chapter One
Violet Ames drove slowly along the familiar winding roads of River Gorge, Kentucky, wiping tears and saying prayers. It had been years since she’d visited the rural mountain town where her grandmother raised her, and this wasn’t the return trip she’d planned. Her version had involved an abundance of hugs and triple servings of Grandma’s double chocolate brownies, but there wouldn’t be any of that tonight.
Violet divided her attention between the dark country road before her and the sleeping infant behind her. Eight-month-old Maggie dozed silently in her little rear-facing car seat, having given up tears to fatigue only moments after the car exited the hospital parking lot. Violet rubbed her heavy lids and tried to stay composed, but it had been a tough day.
According to the midmorning phone call she’d received from River Gorge General Hospital, Violet’s grandma, a seventy-eight-year-old widow, had fallen from a ladder in her barn and nearly killed herself. The notion was unfathomable. Grandma’s barn was old and left unused after her grandfather’s death many years back, so why was her grandma even in there? And why had she climbed the ladder? There was nothing to reach with it except an old hayloft housing a decade of dust.
Violet gripped the aching muscles along the back of her neck and shoulders with one hand, steering carefully with the other. She couldn’t get her mind around the awful day. “What would have possessed her?” she whispered into the warm summer air streaming through her barely cracked window.
That was a million-dollar question, because no one at the hospital had a clue.
Her grandma, the only one who could explain what on earth she’d been up to, was lying unconscious in a bleach-and bandage-scented room, worrying her granddaughter half to death. She’d undergone surgeries for her broken hip and wrist and received sutures on her cracked head and a wrap for her swollen ankle. What she hadn’t done was open her eyes.
Her doctor said she’d wake when she was ready, and he had faith that would be soon. He’d suggested Violet be patient.
Patience wasn’t Violet’s strong suit. In fact, she wanted to scream. Her grandma had been Violet’s entire world before Maggie was born, and she knew it. Violet had made her promise to be careful with herself the year she moved from River Gorge to Winchester, nearly two hours away. And she had. “Yet here we are,” Violet muttered.
She thumped the steering wheel with one palm as hot tears spouted anew.
Maggie started behind her, jostling the car seat’s reflection in Violet’s rearview. Violet couldn’t see her face, but she heard the squirms and soft complaints as Maggie tried to find sleep once again.
Violet pressed her lips into a tight line, then wiped the new round of tears from her cheeks. They’d be at Grandma’s house soon, where they could get a good night’s sleep before returning to the hospital tomorrow, where hopefully they’d get some answers. Or better yet, find Grandma awake.
Soon the bumpy road grew steadily more uneven until cracked pavement gave way to sparse patches of dirt and loose gravel. Stones crunched and pinged beneath the tires and frame of Violet’s little yellow hatchback as she maneuvered the final stretch to her former home.
A small smile pulled through her heartbreak as Grandma’s farm came into view. Ghosts of her younger self on bicycles and horseback rushed down the drive to meet her, chased by the beloved hound dogs and yard chickens of her youth, sprayed with a garden hose held by her grandfather before he passed. Carried in Grandma’s arms when her mother waved goodbye from the passenger seat of a station wagon driven by a man she barely knew.
Violet rolled to a stop in front of the old white farmhouse, nausea fisting in her gut and fat tears blurring away the world before her. She shifted into Park and climbed out to inhale the sticky night air. Summers in River Gorge were scorching hot with the constant threat of a thunderstorm. A volatile combination Violet had always loved.
She peered at her sleeping daughter. “This will be fine,” she whispered. “Grandma will be fine.” Unwilling to wake Maggie, Violet unlatched the entire car seat and hoisted it into her arms, baby and all.
With any luck, Grandma still kept a spare house key under the plant in the big red pot outside her dining room window.
Violet carried Maggie to the potted flower garden near the front steps and tipped the planter back with one foot. “Shoot.” Nothing but bugs on the mulch-covered ground beneath.
She turned for the porch. All hope wasn’t gone. Her grandpa used to keep a spare above the front door. Grandma had hated it because she was too short to reach without something to stand on. Violet, on the other hand, hadn’t had that problem since middle school when she shot up to five foot eight and a half and stayed there.
She slowed on the steps when she caught sight of the front door already ajar.
Could the paramedics have forgotten to lock up on their way out?
Had they even gone inside the house if Grandma had fallen in the barn?
Violet flipped the interior light on and swung the door wide. Maybe her grandma hadn’t fully secured the door before heading outside to the barn, and the open door had gone unnoticed by the EMTs.
Eerie silence greeted Violet as she edged her way inside, trying desperately not to wake her daughter. She set Maggie, in her car seat, against the far wall, then pushed the door shut behind them. “Hello?” she called, as much from habit and manners as anything.
The fine hairs along Violet’s neck and arms rose to attention. The couch cushions were all slightly askew and a small drawer in the side table was open. She double-checked that the television and DVD player were still there, then shook her head in a relieved sigh. It wasn’t a robbery.
Violet rubbed the gooseflesh from her arms. Of course it wasn’t. No one in town would bother breaking into her grandma’s house. For one thing, everyone was perpetually invited in, and for another, it was a small town. Folks here knew her grandma barely got by on her grandpa’s small pension. Besides all that, there was nothing to take that Grandma wouldn’t freely give.
A small sound rose on the night air, perking Violet’s ears and causing her to rethink her theory. Another little bump drew Violet’s attention to the kitchen near the back of the home and jerked her heart rate into a sprint.
She pulled her cell phone from one pocket and dialed the local authorities before inching away from the darkened hallway, back toward the front door and Maggie.
“Hello,” she whispered to the tinny voice answering her call. “I think there’s someone in my grandma’s house.”
No sooner had she uttered the words than a hulking shadow erupted from the home’s depths, bearing down on her fast with long, pounding strides. Violet screamed as his iron hands connected with her shoulders, knocking her end over end as he barreled past her and out the front door.
Maggie screamed in her car seat as the calamity of her mother’s crashing body mixed with the loud bang of Grandma’s front door hitting the wall.
Violet scrambled onto her hands and knees, then raced to Maggie’s side. She climbed off the ground slightly bruised but wholly motivated to get her baby to safety. She wasted no time escaping the house with Maggie and locking them both into her car, engine running, while she waited for local authorities to arrive.
* * *
WYATT STONE DOUBLE-CHECKED his GPS as the quiet country road turned to gravel beneath his sturdy truck tires. He knew Gladys Ames lived on a rural property, but this was nearly isolated. No wonder she had been scared.
He drove with one hand on the wheel while he dug through a pile of papers on his dashboard with the other, fishing for a business card in decent condition. Normally, Wyatt was better organized, but his fledgling private security business had been growing legs faster than he could keep up or recruit a staff large enough to handle all the work, and that left Wyatt running on caffeine and determination more often than sleep and preparation.
A set of bobbing headlights appeared around the next pitted gravel bend and headed his way, demanding the lion’s share of the narrow road and forcing Wyatt’s truck onto the grass with two wheels. The sheriff’s cruiser lumbered past at a crawl, leaving Wyatt to wait for the opportunity to forge on. Once he could, Wyatt pressed the gas pedal with a little more purpose than before. Gladys Ames had sent several messages to Fortress Security over the past few days, arranging for protection while she “handled some business,” but Wyatt wasn’t supposed to start work until tomorrow. So what had she gotten herself into that required a sheriff’s presence since their last correspondence?
He slid his truck into the space behind a small yellow hatchback and climbed down from the cab.
A brunette with a baby in one arm and a half dozen assorted duffel bags dangling from her shoulders and hands froze at the sight of him.
It wasn’t the first time a lone woman had looked at him that way. It wouldn’t be the last.
His size and general appearance put most folks on edge, especially women. Certainly at night. Definitely alone.
Wyatt stopped moving.
“Ma’am.” He tugged the curved brim of his worn-out Stetson and nodded. “I’m Wyatt Stone from Fortress Security, a private protection agency in Lexington. I’m here to see Gladys Ames.”
This dark-haired beauty didn’t speak or budge, though her arms must’ve been feeling the weight of her burdens. She was lean and tall for a woman, but Wyatt still had more than a half a foot on her. Like most people he met in this business, she looked incredibly vulnerable, breakable and scared. And he had a bad habit of looking dangerous, or so he’d been told.
Wyatt ran through a mental list of ways to get past this beautiful guard dog without scaring her any further. He was there to help Gladys Ames, and a general web search had revealed her to be in her seventies. Definitely not this woman.
“I have a business card,” he offered, “and a signed contract for services to begin tomorrow morning. I told Mrs. Ames I’d come sooner if I could. No additional charge, of course.” Honestly, coming here straight from his last job had saved him five hours of traveling back to Lexington only to turn around and leave for River Gorge in the morning. He was going right past anyway. It made sense to start work a few hours early in exchange for an extra night of boarding.
The woman adjusted her baby on her hip and struggled with the cluster of bags hanging all over her. “Grandma hired you?”
