London Escape (23 page)

 I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but he speaks again. “When things have settled down, I still want to be with you, Kit.”

I allow myself a deep sigh of relief. I don’t even have to check my spidey sense; I know he’s telling me the truth. I’m suddenly glad for the rain, because I don’t want him to see me crying again.

“Promise?” I ask.

“I promise.” He kisses me one last time then, but it is too brief and feels too final to ease the pain in my chest. I hang onto his last words instead, his promise, and watch him walk away from me again.

I stand outside in the rain for a long time just thinking. My world has changed so much. Everything around me has perceptibly shifted in a direction I hadn’t seen coming. The people around me, the ones I once thought I knew so well have transformed into strangers. Worst of all, I can’t recognize the person I have become. Hurt, angry and afraid all of the time. There is nothing I can do about the others. I can’t make Jason want to be with me right now. That’s his choice. I can’t make my dad go back to being a simple, boring businessman whose biggest flaw is that he wants me in by eleven every night. That isn’t who he is or who he has ever been. The only thing I can do is accept things for what they are.

The only person I can change in this situation is me. I’m the only one who can fix what is broken inside. The only question that remains is how. How can I overcome all the secrets and lies, the deception, and the fact that I now know my family has a mortal enemy?  My first instinct, my gut reaction which boils up from somewhere deep inside of me, is to fight back. To stop trying force back the memories and truths that have become so painful, and face them. And then maybe I will have the strength to face what is ahead.

At last I’m too wet and cold to stay outside much longer, so I walk back inside. As I do I think about what Jason had said, how he was right, my dad isn’t the enemy. I only have one of those.

My dad knows who the enemy is, and he has spent the years since my mom’s death in search of him. My fists clench at the thought of my dad facing him down again, gun in hand, unwavering, fearless. I picture my mom, her face is blurry in my memory, but still I can see her. Was he wrong to want to protect me, his only daughter, from the man who took the woman he loved?

Suddenly the girl I’ve become makes a little more sense to me. V had told me that lies and deception were in my blood, but there is something else my parents have passed down to me. I had felt it numerous times recently. The certainty of knowing the right thing to do in a moment, the ability to choose and act when I should be frozen with fear, and the strength to conquer things I have never thought possible. They have given this to me, this is their legacy.

My feet practically fly as I reach the stairs and I’m at my dad’s office door in seconds. I don’t bother to knock, but burst in. He looks up, only slightly startled.

“I’m ready,” I say firmly, plopping down in the chair opposite him, just like I had two weeks ago.

“What do you want to talk about?” He puts down the papers he’s reading and gives me his full attention.

“Everything, I want to know everything. About Mom, Halcyon,” I lean forward. “V.”

He smiles a little at this. “You don’t want to know everything about him, trust me.”

“I want to help you find him and stop him,” I say and mean it.

“Of course you do.”

And so he tells me everything, at least the parts he thinks I can handle. How he and my mom came to be Halcyon agents and all the things they had accomplished together in their years as partners. And then, through many tears, his and mine, he tells me what I needed to hear the most, the truth about how she felt towards me. How much she had loved me, wanted me, and would never have left me.

Finally he promises to never lie to me again, and to bring the man responsible for our tears to justice.

For now, it’s a start.

Acknowledgements

I would be remiss in not mentioning some the many people who have supported me and encouraged me over the past few years. There are far too many to name individually, I guess that makes me one fortunate writer. But there are still a few I’d like to acknowledge personally…

To my parents, Marion and Dana Conley, who quite literally taught me everything I know, thank you for being amazing from day one and on.

To my sister-in-law, Maartje Hopper, thank you for your invaluable friendship and constant encouragement.

To all my “Wine a Little” ladies, every single one of you has encouraged me and cheered me on throughout this sometimes frustrating process and I can’t thank you all enough for your friendship.

Thank you Christine Corey, for the amazing cover art.

A big, huge, special thank you to Laura Case, editor extraordinaire.

Also, another extra big thank you to Jennifer Fenenoz, beta reader and friend.

And lastly, to my amazing family; Elijah and Sophia, I love you both so much, thank you for being the best kids ever! And to my husband, Matthew, thank you cannot truly express my gratitude to you for making my original dreams come true. I would not be half the person I am today without your love and friendship.

Keep reading for an exclusive sneak peak at the first two chapters of the thrilling follow-up to London Escape!

Finding Sanctuary

The Halcyon Legacy - Book Two

Coming Fall 2012

1. GRAVITY

I
n my dream I am falling.

Not the floaty, dreamy feeling you get when you’re not quite asleep and not quite awake, but the gravity-gripping, stomach-churning plunge of a total freefall. I wake up when I hit the water, icy needles jabbing into my skin. Just as the scream escapes my lips I sit up in bed, my pulse racing and my palms sweating. I’ve had the same dream almost every night for the past two weeks; ever since I had learned the truth about my mom’s death. Finally I had been given the information I have been searching for ever since this past summer. After spending the first seventeen years of my life thinking she had just left us when I was nine years old. But that had been a lie, just one of many I had been told. She was dead.

Somehow the truth doesn’t make me feel any better.

It’s my own fault. After all, I’m the one who begged my dad to tell me the story. Some part of me thought it would make it all better, knowing how it happened. Clearly I had been wrong.

Untangling the sheets from around my legs I swing my feet onto the cold carpet. In the darkness I search for my fuzzy bathrobe and slippers and put them on. It is now winter in Connecticut. The adventures of the past summer are now months behind me, but never forgotten. Before the drowning nightmares it had been dreams of being handcuffed in a basement and images of the Things and Mr. V that kept me up at night.

And dreams of Jason, always Jason. Sometimes he is there with me in the basement again, sometimes he isn’t. The nights when I’m alone are always worse than the ones where we face the monsters together.

He isn’t here now, in my dreams or otherwise. This past fall he had gone off to college. Yale is only an hour or so away, but somehow the distance seems farther. We’ve hardly spoken since he left. He blames his busy freshman schedule, but I know differently. He had promised to at least remain friends. Apparently being friends means we don’t speak anymore. I try not to blame him, but it’s not easy when I feel the familiar sting of abandonment.

I stride over to the window, looking down on the freshly fallen snow in my backyard. Inexplicably my gaze is drawn to the house next door, hardly visible through the thick trees that border the two properties. There’s a light on and I wonder if Jason’s mother, Caroline Barron, is alone and sleepless too, with her husband serving time in jail for his crimes this past summer. It’s almost painful to think of him in jail while Mr. V roams free. Jason’s dad had been collateral damage: the fall guy. Another thing I’m to blame for. Then again Jason was the one who had stolen the necklace from his father, starting the chain of events that would lead to his father’s eventual arrest.

My hands are still shaking from the remnants of my dream. I clench them tightly and take three deep breaths. I have learned a lot about calming my fears lately.

I pace around my bedroom for a few minutes, breathing deeply and trying to forget the feeling of the water rushing around my ears and the weight of it pressing me down. I’ve never fallen into a river before. I’ve never even come close to drowning.

My mom had.

Two weeks ago my dad had finally given in, after I had begged him for months to tell me the story. It had been a rainy November night. I can still see his face, his bright blue eyes and the flames from the fireplace reflecting off his glasses. And the familiar twitch of his jaw as he considers my question. His hands are folded in his lap, tightening.

“Please, tell me how it happened?” I repeat. I’m not sure why I need to know so badly. In my mind’s eye I hold the picture of my enemy, our enemy, Mr. V. I have to know just how responsible he is for her murder.

He refuses to look at me as he mutters, “Moscow. It happened in Moscow.”

I nod, because I know this already. V had mentioned it during the showdown in the warehouse.

“She wasn’t even supposed to be there. She was supposed to be tracking down some stupid stolen painting from the Louvre. That was her mission. Instead she was in Moscow. She didn’t even tell me. She didn’t even tell—” He stops and I’m left wondering what he was about to say before he moves on. “I need to back up. I’ve told you before, about the different kind of jobs Halcyon does?”

I nod again. Though I still haven’t fully come to terms with the fact that my dad is some sort of James Bond wannabe, I have accepted that through Halcyon he and my mom had saved many lives, and how much he believes in continuing his work. Still, there are a lot of jobs he won’t tell me about, because the tales are far too harrowing. I have a feeling this is going to be one of them.

“There was this baby boy in Russia, years ago, before you were even born. This was right after your mom and I had gotten married. His father got into some trouble with the Russian mob and he owed them a fortune. When he couldn’t pay up they took his baby.” He waves his hand like this is a totally normal conversation to have with your teenage daughter. “Anyway, your mom and I had been given the assignment to get him back. We were successful, but it wasn’t easy.”

I close my eyes and imagine my parents in Russia, with guns blazing and a baby in their arms. It’s kind of a crazy mental image.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He shakes his head. “Your mom was amazing. Undercover ops were her specialty. She managed to get hired as a nanny by the family who was keeping the baby for the mob. One night she was finally able to sneak him away and we got him to a safe house.” He pauses again and I have an unmistakable feeling this story is about to take a turn for the worse. “While we waited for the other agents to get his family to safety we learned they were ambushed. His parents were killed along with three of our agents. We had to take the baby and run. For two weeks we were hiding out in Moscow, waiting until it was safe to make contact with Halcyon again. In that amount of time, Claire, your mom, fell in love with that little guy. We even planned on trying to adopt him if we could.”

I look up at him sharply when he says this. This is the first time I’ve ever heard anything like it. He doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Finally we made contact with Halcyon and two other agents came to take the baby away. But your mom and I still had hope we would see him again. A week after coming home we found out he went into foster care and we lost track of him forever. “

“What happened to him?” I can’t help but ask.

My dad shrugs. “Your mom had her theories about it. She always suspected foul play from someone. We never found out who was responsible for his disappearance, whether it was legit or not. It wasn’t all bad though, not long after that we decided to have a baby of our own.” He smiles at me then, but it’s a sad smile.

“So what does all this have to do with how she died?”

His gaze returns to the fire. “She was in Moscow because someone had contacted her with new information. This person said they knew where the long lost baby—Simon—was. She went to find him, to try and rescue him again.”

“But why would she do that?” I can’t help but feel a bit betrayed. After all I was nine at the time, why would she have risked her life for another kid when she already had a child at home?

“You didn’t know her like I did. She had never forgotten that little boy. She loved you Kit, you know she did. But this was different. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t try.”

“So who gave her the information? It was false, right? Someone was luring her to Moscow to kill her.” I have already started trying to put all the pieces together in my head.

He nods. “When she didn’t report in with our Paris office I knew something was up. And it didn’t take me long to find her. Of course, I had help. As soon as I found out she was in Moscow, I knew why.”

I’m hanging on his every word now, breathless.

“When I landed in Moscow I went straight to the hotel where she had been staying. There I found a message, a letter, someone telling her to go to the Bolshoy Kamenny Bridge. I hurried there as fast as I could but—” He stops, unable to continue and looks down at his clenched hands. I put my hands over his and squeeze them.

“It was dusk by the time I got there,” he continues, his voice so quiet I have to strain to hear. “There were only two people on the bridge. I was confused because at first I thought they were embracing but—” He shakes his head violently. “But they were struggling. I called her name then and she looked up at me, just for a second before her attacker forced her over the railing. I ran but I was too late; too late to save her and too late to catch the man who did it.”