Hurricane Force (A Miss Fortune Mystery Book 7) (20 page)

Carter narrowed his eyes. “Just being altruistic? I’m not buying that for a minute. So what gossip did you pick up?”

“Nothing of merit, really. Everyone seems surprised by Max’s return and even more so by his murder, but Gracie Sampson had an interesting suggestion. She suggested that Celia was the intended target, not Max.”

Carter considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose it works on some level. It was Celia’s house, and with the storm and the power outage, someone could have mistaken a silhouette in the dark for Celia rather than Max.”

I nodded. “That’s why I found it interesting. On the surface, it makes sense.”

“But not when you shift to motive. I’m well aware that Celia has her enemies, and I’m positive that all of them would like to see her thrown out of office and maybe even run out of town, but that’s where it ends.”

“That’s basically what I said—that the gap between hating someone and killing them was still a really wide one. But Gracie seems dedicated to the thought.”

“Probably wishful thinking,” he said. “There’s some old feud between Gracie and Celia. I’ve asked my mom about it before, but she didn’t know what the falling-out was about. Just that it was a long time ago and hasn’t lessened.”

“Maybe Gracie is part Italian. She certainly seems to have that grudge thing down, especially for someone walking around with a smile painted on her face.”

He laughed. “Yeah, a little bit of Gracie goes a long way.”

“A little bit of Gracie could make you diabetic. All that saccharine sweetness. I needed to brush my teeth afterward.”

“I can see that.” He sobered for a moment and seemed contemplative. He was silent for so long, I started to worry just a little. Had he heard something about our trip to New Orleans? I didn’t see how he could have, but one never knew who might have a cousin or something who heard something and reported back.

“I was thinking,” he said. “When all this is cleared up, maybe you and I could take a weekend trip to New Orleans. See the city for a couple days, eat some good food, maybe throw some money away at the casino…”

I felt my heart leap in my throat, and other parts of me started to tingle. What Carter was suggesting was huge. It would take our relationship to a whole new level—the level I’d sorta been avoiding because of emotional stuff but secretly dying for because of physical stuff. My heart and body wanted me to yell “hell, yes” and pack a bag. My head was shouting “not until you tell him the truth.”

Apparently, I hesitated too long, because Carter said, “Never mind. It was a stupid suggestion.”

“No,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t stupid at all. I was just surprised. It’s been a long time since…” Like forever. I’d never gone away for a long weekend with a man. I’d dated—at least I guess you could call it that—but I’d never been with anyone that I would consider sharing living space with for any length of time.
 

Carter’s expression shifted from offended to sympathetic. “It’s been a long time for me too. I guess I subconsciously swore off relationships. I didn’t realize it, really. Not until you came along.”

“Mine was more of a conscious decision. That’s why I’m so careful. I didn’t really plan on this, and with me being here only for the summer…”
 

And with me being a CIA assassin, and here under a false identity, and not being at all the person you think I am.
 

Carter frowned. “It’s not logical, given the situation, and you can bet that’s something I’ve thought about at length. But ultimately, I can’t deny my attraction to you. You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever known.”

“Interesting? Is that what you’re calling it these days? I thought I was a Yankee imported terror.”

He laughed. “I admit that a lot of your choices frustrate the heck out of me, but that doesn’t make them not interesting. In fact, because you seem hell-bent on doing exactly what you want and everyone else be damned, it might make you even more attractive.”

I blushed and stared down at the desk, wondering what Carter would think about the real me. Would he find that person interesting, or would he be appalled? Sure, Carter had been a soldier, and even though we’d never talked much about his time overseas, I was sure he’d seen and done things that civilians would never understand. But my profession took soldiering to an entirely different level. It required a disassociation from humanity that most people weren’t capable of understanding, much less achieving.

“A weekend trip sounds like a lot of fun,” I said finally. What the hell. It wasn’t a lie. It did sound like a lot of fun, and maybe the CIA and FBI setup would bag Ahmad and all of this could be over. My confession would probably be a lot less harsh if people weren’t still trying to kill me.

Carter smiled and I could see the tension leave his shoulders. Unfortunately, it had settled right into mine. Despite all my good intentions, I was digging a deeper and deeper hole.
 

My phone buzzed. My hand clenched when I saw the message from Gertie.

The alarm is going off at my house. I told the alarm company to shut it off and figured we’d go check it out, but Ida Belle said to let Carter handle it. She’s an old poop. If you go with him, will you please get my good blue lawn chair out of the shed?

I frowned.
 

“Is something wrong?” Carter asked.

“Gertie’s at my house and her house alarm went off.”

“She still has that thing? I thought she’d taken an ax to it after the false alarms.”

“I think this thing with Max bothers her more than she’ll admit,” I said. “Lately, Sinful hasn’t exactly been the sleepy town it used to be.”

“That’s true enough.” Carter rose from his chair. “I guess I better go check it out.”

“Is it okay if I come with you? Gertie wants me to grab a chair from her shed.”

“Given that it’s probably the alarm on the fritz or operator error, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, if I don’t, you’ll just go afterward and get the chair.”

“You know me too well.”

I followed Carter out of the sheriff’s department and hopped into his truck. With any luck, the alarm was as faulty as Gertie claimed and this would amount to a whole lot of nothing. But I wasn’t convinced enough to ignore it, and I didn’t want Carter going in blind. If the men in New Orleans had tracked Gertie down by her license plate, they could have shown up at her house.

Gertie’s house looked fine when we pulled up to the curb. In anticipation of being at my house, Gertie had left the porch light on, but that was the only thing that looked different than it usually did. “Everything looks normal,” I said.

Carter nodded as we walked up the sidewalk to the house. He checked the front door and it was still locked. A quick review of the windows showed them to be secure as well.
 

“I’ll look around back while you get the chair,” Carter said.

We headed through the gate and into the backyard. Carter started with the windows and I set off across the lawn for the shed that was tucked in the back corner. I was almost there when I heard Carter yell.

“There’s a broken window back here.”

I started to turn around, but then I heard a noise in the bushes in front of me. A second later, a man with an assault rifle burst out of the bush and leveled his gun at me.
 

Chapter Fourteen

Without even thinking, I lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the rifle with my right hand, pushing it away from me then pulling it toward me and down at the same time. When the shooter stepped forward, off balance, I struck him in the nose with my left hand, then reached down to grab the stock of the rifle. With my right hand still grasping the barrel, I shoved the gun upward, clocking him in the forehead. As I took one step back, I pulled the gun down and backward, breaking his grasp, then flipped it over and fired a single shot into his heart.

The entire event took only seconds to play out, but it felt as if everything were in slow motion. I stood there staring down at the man. I could hear the faint sound of footsteps pounding behind me as my pulse throbbed in my temples. A second man bolted from behind the shed and before I could even lift the rifle, a shot fired behind me, hitting him square in the middle of the head. He dropped like a stone. I stood there, my heart pounding so hard my chest hurt.
 

This wasn’t the guys from the alley. These men worked for Ahmad.

Carter checked the two men for a pulse and removed the remaining weapons from their bodies. He glanced back at me several times, but was completely silent as he worked. When he’d collected the small arsenal and placed it in a pile behind me, he stepped in front of me.
 

His expression was a mixture of anger, frustration, and disappointment. “If I run your prints, what will I see?” he asked quietly.

I dropped my gaze to the ground, unable to look him eye to eye. “You’ll see information on Sandy-Sue Morrow.”

He sighed. “What agency?”

Carter knew the score. Not just anyone could attach one person’s fingerprints to another person’s existence. It took someone with federal placement and high up the food chain.

I looked back up at him. “CIA.”

“And the real Sandy-Sue Morrow?”

“Is vacationing in Europe, courtesy of my boss who happens to be her uncle.”

His expression darkened. “Gerald Morrow is your boss?”
 

Crap. “Yeah. You know him?”

“I worked with some of his men in Iraq.” His voice was steady when he delivered the sentence, but I saw the tiny shift in his eyes.
 

If Carter had worked with Morrow’s operatives in Iraq, then he knew exactly what I was. Morrow dealt with only one type of operative.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth,” I said.

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry I found out before the summer was over and you could disappear.”

“No! That’s not it at all.” I struggled to find the words that could explain everything I’d felt and thought and agonized over since I’d realized my feelings for Carter went deeper than I ever expected.
 

“I couldn’t tell you the truth,” I said. “I couldn’t compromise my identity or put you at risk. I was going to tell you the truth before I left. I just needed things settled.” I sighed. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you at all.”

“That’s probably the only thing you’re sorry for.”

My heart clenched and my stomach rolled. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I struggled to keep them from falling. “Not in the way you’re implying.”

But I knew my words were just that—words.
 

Carter hated me, and I didn’t blame him. I had lied to him about everything from the moment we’d first met and continued the lie even after I’d gotten personally involved with him. What I’d done was understandable on a professional basis, but inexcusable on a personal one.

“You know,” he said, “I’m angrier at myself than anything. I knew you didn’t add up—all that poking your nose into criminal activity, your knowledge of certain things that was well beyond the average civilian, that dive you made to drag me from the bottom of the lake—but I didn’t want to believe it, so I stuck my head in the sand. It was stupid, but it’s all on me.”

“No, it’s not. You weren’t supposed to know. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Do Ida Belle and Gertie know? Ally?”

I felt my heart drop into my stomach all over again.

“Ida Belle and Gertie do. Ally doesn’t know anything.”

His face flushed red. “I see. So you could tell two nosy old ladies, but you couldn’t tell the man you were in a relationship with?”

“They’re not…I didn’t…” What the hell could I say to explain why Gertie and Ida Belle knew without giving away their secret? “I didn’t tell them. Shortly after I arrived, they saw me do something, just like you did. Something they recognized from their time in the service.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “That situation at Gertie’s house, right after you arrived. It wasn’t Gertie and Ida Belle who took them, was it?”

“I don’t know anything about that.” It was the biggest lie in the world, and I was sure Carter knew I was lying. I was also sure he understood why I couldn’t tell the truth. The last thing I could afford was being implicated in a crime, even if I was the person who’d ended someone else’s crime spree.

“Of course you don’t.” He waved his hand at the bodies. “Do you know anything about these men? Or is that something else you’re going to pretend ignorance on?”

I shook my head. Director Morrow wasn’t going to like it, but at this point it would be irresponsible and dangerous to leave Carter in the dark. I wasn’t interested in either.
 

“They work for Ahmad, an arms dealer in the Middle East. I was undercover in his organization when I got made. Director Morrow is certain there’s a leak at the CIA that compromised my cover, and after I blew cover Ahmad put a price on my head.”

“Which is why you’re not in protective custody.” Carter blew out a breath. “How do you think they found you?”

“I’m not sure that they did.” I gave him a brief rundown of everything that had happened since the counterfeit money blew through Sinful.