The Midnight Hour (11 page)

"Bloody."

She shuddered at the thought. For the past year, Tom and a number of other operatives had been working to keep a lid °n the things that were going on in Argentina.

"I see the 'Man Wonder' is back," Tom said, looking at the closed door to Casey's office.

Lucille grinned, knowing that was what some of the agents called Drake-behind his back, of course. "Yes, Drake returned today and I had to deliver him some bad news."

Tom's interest was piqued. "What?"

"That Tori Green had left the agency while he was away on assignment."

Tom lifted a curious brow. "Why would Green's departure bother Warren? It's not like they had a thing going on… or did they?"

Lucille shrugged, thinking she had possibly said too much, especially since she knew that Tom had also been interested in Tori at one time. "I need to get back to work. Thanks for the report, Tom."

Tom nodded when it became apparent Lucille had no plans to answer his question. He returned her smile. "Yeah, I'll see you later."

Drake turned from looking out of the window and gave Casey a look of pure, unadulterated anger. "You don't have to quote agency policies to me, Casey. All I want to know is where Tori went. You don't even have to give me an address. Just name the city, or the state, and I'll find her."

Casey sat behind his desk, his interest piqued. Warren's temper was in rare form today. This was only his second meeting with the man after becoming his boss and all he could see was his attitude was getting worse. He had barged into his office and before he could ask Warren how the assignment in South America had gone, the man had asked for the whereabouts of Victoria Green. Hearing she had resigned from the Agency hadn't been good enough for him. He had wanted her address, which was information he couldn't provide. However, Warren wasn't letting the matter go. "I can't do that," Casey said, his lips tightening in frustration.

"Yes, you can," Drake all but snapped. "You can make an exception and tell me what I want to know."

Casey raised his eyebrows. "But why should I do that, Warren? If I remember correctly, the last time you and Ms. Green were together in my office, you were all but eating nails at the thought of going on mat assignment with her. What changed?"

Drake scowled. "Nothing changed. There's just some unfinished business between us."

Casey nodded. He then slowly stood, his voice tight. "Well, that's unfortunate because there is nothing I can tell you. Victoria Green made a point of requesting that we not tell anyone of her whereabouts. I reminded her that that was Agency policy anyway and she went on to let me know she expected that policy to be followed. I distinctively got the impression that she wants to put her job with the CIA behind her and start a new life. After giving this agency five years of hard work and dedicated service, I think she deserves that and I would hope you would feel the same way."

Casey released a ragged breath before continuing. "I don't know what unfinished business you feel is between you, but evidently she doesn't feel the same way, otherwise you would know where she is. So my advice to you, Warren, is to move on with your life. If you still want that thirty-day leave, then I suggest you take it. We can discuss future assignments when you get back."

Drake glared at him, not liking the way Casey was so easily dismissing him. Fine, if he couldn't get Tori's address from him then he'd use other means to get it.

Without saying another word, he turned and walked out of Casey's office.

"You have a phone call, sir."

Solomon Cross glanced up from the papers he'd been reading and took the phone that Miguel was handing to him.

"Yes?"

"Cross, this is Red Hunter."

Cross smiled. Red Hunter was the code name for one of the CIA agents he had on staff, a rather nice way of saying "in his pocket." "Yes, Red Hunter, and to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"I found out some information that might interest you about Drake Warren."

Cross leaned back in his chair. "What about Warren? Is he dying again?" he asked in an embittered chuckle. The man had been near death eight months ago and had somehow miraculously survived. If Cross was a religious man he would begin to think that someone up there really gave a damn about Warren.

"No, he isn't dying but he might have a love interest."

That definitely got Cross's attention. "A love interest or a bedmate?"

"I'd say a love interest since word is out that he's obsessed in finding her. It seems he's been asking around about her, trying to find out where she's gone." The Red Hunter then relayed the information that he'd heard earlier that day.

"Interesting," Cross said moments later, dragging out the word as he rubbed his chin. "It's very unusual for Warren to show more than a passing interest in a woman." Then moments later he said, "I want her."

"Excuse me?"

The very thought that Red Hunter acted like he didn't understand him irritated the hell out of Cross. "I said that I want her. Find her before he does and bring her to me."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. The Red Hunter asked, "Why?"

Rage built up inside of Cross. "Don't ever question my orders. Just do it!" He then slammed the phone down.

Moments later he stood and walked over to the window. At any other time the sight of the ocean would calm whatever raged inside of him but not today.

There was a woman in Drake Warren's life?

Cross wanted to laugh. So he did. After nearly five years the man had finally found a woman to make him forget Sandy Carroll. If that was true, then unfortunately her fate was definitely sealed. He sighed deeply. The Red Hunter would follow his order and deliver Victoria Green to him. He needed to know what there was about her that had Drake Warren coming back for more. He would diligently find out and have fun with her for a while, and then he would save Warren the trouble of finding her when Cross shipped her body to him in a box. He grinned. At least he would ship only parts of her to Warren; the parts he hadn't fed to the sharks.

The thought of ruining Warren's life for a second time sent a burst of pleasure through him. He couldn't wait for the arrival of his houseguest.

Stinson Beach, California

Tori took several deep breaths, trying to remain calm after reading the article that had appeared in this morning's paper. It was about Rico Santiago's rebels and how the South American government had been successful in defeating them. What the paper hadn't told and what most Americans didn't know was that the CIA had been behind the scenes in helping South America keep the rebels under control. There had been an unspoken agreement between the two countries that the U.S. would assist them in their fight with the rebels if they kept our country abreast of any drug shipments headed our way.

Tori reread the section that said the only casualties had come from the rebels and although she knew it would never be put in print if there had been a CIA casualty, a part of her felt that Drake was alive and safe. For some reason she was almost certain of it.

She tenderly rubbed her stomach, smiled and whispered softly, "Your daddy is safe, little one."

She had found out last month that she was pregnant, and had cried so hard in the doctor's office, the staff hadn't been sure if she was shedding tears of happiness or sorrow. She had been quick to tell them they were definitely tears of joy. More than anything she wanted this baby; her and Drake's baby.

Her heart started to pound just thinking about it and she stood up from the chair on her porch. The home she had purchased over a year ago faced the beach and instead of having a green, landscaped lawn, she had sugar-white sand that led to the waters of the Pacific Ocean.

She loved it here and was glad for the wise investments she had made over the years. She had fallen in love with the West Coast after Hawk had given her a week's vacation as a gift two Christmases ago. Even during the winter months she had found Stinson Beach to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world and during her travels she had seen plenty. It was more than just the sugar-white sands, it was also the beautiful blue-green hue of the waters that seemed to have calming and healing powers.

She threw up her hands in a wave when one of her neighbors jogged by and acknowledged her with a greeting. Because she had been away from home most of the time while an agent, her neighbors believed the story she had fabricated for their benefit. She'd told them that she was a teacher who worked for the federal government and that her job was to travel to different countries to teach the children of U.S. soldiers who lived abroad on military bases.

She knew Amanda Guyton, her closest neighbor who lived half a mile down the beach, believed her story. The older woman of seventy-four had always enjoyed the trinkets Tori would bring back for her from whatever country she had been to in exchange for keeping an eye on the house.

Her other neighbor, the one she had just seen jogging by a few minutes ago, Sarah Nelson, had moved into the beach house a few miles down the road three weeks ago. Sarah was single, friendly enough and pretty much kept to herself. Tori didn't have a problem with that since she was also a private person, too, and she wasn't quick to strike up friendships with anyone. However, she and Sarah often ran into each other while out shopping and once or twice they had enjoyed lunch together. Sarah was pretty tight-lipped about herself, but then so was she. As far as Tori was concerned, everyone had secrets and she appreciated a person's rights to keep those secrets.

Her thoughts again drifted to Drake. The memory of their lovemaking, which had resulted in this tiny life now inside her, still sent a flow of warmth through her. Having a baby would add such meaning to her life. Over the past five years even Hawk hadn't known about the turmoil or anguish she had endured. No one knew about the many nights she went to bed aching to be held in Drake's arms, desperately needing the physical contact with the man she loved. In the jungles of Costa Rica, her past had caught up with her, and she had been more afraid of Drake discovering who she was than she ever had been of the revolutionaries.

She had seen the world she had established for herself over the past five years unravel and she knew another chance assignment with Drake would have destroyed all Hawk's carefully laid plans. For Drake to find out her true identity would mean they would go into the protection program, or else Cross, the sick psycho that he was known to be, would hunt them down for the rest of their lives until he was satisfied he had gotten his revenge.

She stared out at the ocean and her thoughts switched to Hawk. He had gotten news of her retirement and had called to give her words of encouragement. He was the only person who knew how to contact her and he called her from time to time to see how she was doing. Whenever he would call, she would assure him she was doing fine enjoying her life of retirement, just like she knew he was doing. Again she appreciated her wise investments and because of them she didn't have to work, but would do so anyway after the baby was born to assure her child's future.

She hadn't told Hawk that she was pregnant. It was her secret and hers alone. Her grandfather's death had left her with no living relatives, at least none she'd known about. Eventually the people in the community where she lived would find out she was about to become a single parent, but that was fine with her. She would not be the first and definitely not the last. She would give her baby all the love any one child could ever receive.

Tori had turned to go into the house when she heard the phone ring. She raised a brow. There weren't many who knew her phone number. She had spoken with Hawk last week and chances were he wouldn't be calling her again until next month.

When she walked back inside she took a quick glance around, appreciating the coziness of her home. Her furnishings were simple but nice and she had enjoyed decorating the place. In the corner of her room sat her Motown collection that included all her favorite Marvin Gaye tunes as well as those of the Temptations. A lump formed in her throat when she remembered that was the one thing she and Drake had immediately discovered they had in common, their love for soul music and many of the same rhythm and blues artists.

She reached the phone and glanced at the caller ID. The fact that the caller's phone number was blocked was the first thing she noticed when she picked it up. "Hello."

After a few seconds she frowned when the person on the other end didn't answer. All she heard was dead air. Then there was a click in her ear when the person finally released the line.

She hung up the phone and tried to force the knot forming in her stomach to ease, and her heart from thumping so hard in her chest. She shook herself and took a deep breath. She was an ex-marine and an ex-CIA agent. She would probably be looking over her shoulder and viewing strange phone calls with suspicion for a while yet. Such things were to be expected. You couldn't live the life of an ex-agent without feeling paranoid every once in a while.

Slipping out of her sandals, she padded through her carpeted house, liking the way it felt beneath her bare feet. She had toyed with the idea of carpeting her home, knowing she would be spending a lot of time vacuuming up sand she would carry in from the beach. But in the end, the carpet had won out. She detested the feel of her bare feet touching a cold floor.

Once again thoughts of Drake filled her mind. She wondered if he was back in the States or if he had gone off on another assignment. He had just come off medical leave

when the two of them had left on that assignment together, yet he had acted as if he were fit as a bull. Even when they had made love his stamina had been unrelenting. Had he pushed himself too hard? Was he still pushing himself too hard? Was he taking care of himself like he should?