Touch of Betrayal, A (20 page)

Adam raised both hands, palms out. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

“I won’t go farther than the swimming pool. I’m thinking it’ll take about a million laps to clear my head. Also, could we leave early for the airport? I want a chance to scope the place out before my flight arrives. Maybe a disguise…”

Maddie grabbed Adam’s hand, bringing a spoonful of cereal toward her mouth.

“Good plan. Run it by Annie,” he said, sighing as a lump of soggy cereal hit his shirt.

I had six hours before my role as newly-arrived-guest took effect, and I had a few things to prep. First off, I wanted to give the .9mm a thorough cleaning. I planned to take it with me to the airport, because, near as I could remember, there weren’t any security points I’d have to pass through. Since I wasn’t really a passenger, I wouldn’t be in the gate area. Yeah. It would be fine. I’d be fine. All I needed was a long swim, an easily-discarded disguise at my disposal, and a weapon in good working order.

I accomplished my tasks just in time to leave. Mitch’s new phone number was on speed dial and we’d exchanged the appropriate text messages to set up our meet. My noticeably red hair was covered with a ball cap, my eyes with oversized sunglasses, and my body with one of Annie’s old maternity tops. It was the perfect disguise, because I could toss all of it in a trash can without a pang of regret.

Showtime.

TWENTY

I waved to Annie and Madigan,
climbed into Adam’s white F-150, and panic tickled my nerves. Prepping for my airport rendezvous with Mitch had completely erased my plan to come out of the closet with Adam. So to speak.

He merged onto H1,
both of us quiet, except for me fidgeting like an emergency pee break was imminent. How to start? Blurt it out.
So, I noticed that you’re gay.
No, that was cheeky. Maybe a question.
Is there anything you’d like to share about your sex life?
Rude, and invited the possibility of far more details than I ever wanted to know about anyone’s private life. It would be like my fingers had shifted into snooping hyperdrive.

Adam tapped the back of my hand, and I about jumped out of the truck. He grinned. “You nervous about this?”

“No. It’ll be fine. I mean, it’s weird that someone from Mitch’s team will be watching us, but I can play married. I’ve been doing it for over a year now.”

“Not like this, you haven’t.” He glanced at me with squinty eyes. “Those shades will have to go when you ditch the disguise, but I think you should replace them with another pair, something to hide your eyes and part of your face. You broadcast everything you think.”

Dread curled down my spine. “I know. It’s a curse, but your idea about different shades is great. I can pick up a pair at the airport.”

He pursed his lips. “Now, you want to tell me what’s really going on in that busy red head?”

“You’regay.” It just came out, all jumbled together in a single word.

“Um-hmm. I noticed that fact shortly after puberty.” His tone was pure tongue-in-cheek.

I slapped his arm with the back of my hand. “Stop. This is hard for me, prying into your personal life. It’s just that you’ve never introduced me to any of your friends, and I wanted you to be comfortable enough to—”

“I’m comfortable, Everly. When you first met me I’d just ended a long-term relationship, didn’t want to talk about it, and haven’t been interested in dating until recently.”

My curiosity piqued, and, from Adam’s knowing smile, he apparently planned to torture me by doling out tiny bits of information. “Who is he? Do I know him? Is he good enough for you?”

“His name is Ben, not yet, and yes.”

I sorted through Adam’s answers. “Does Annie like him? When do I get to meet him?”

He laughed. “You’re playing twenty questions to keep your mind off Mitch.”

“It’s not working very well.” I held my hand up. “See, I can’t stop the shakes.”

Adam threaded our hands together, and the shaking quieted. “I’ll be close by. Nothing’s going to happen to you at the airport. Or is it being alone with Mitch afterward that’s the problem?”

I freed my hand then squeezed it into a tight fist. “It’s the ride back. I’m armed and dangerous, so the airport is a no-thing, but after… It hurts to look at him, and even more when I don’t look at him. He loves me, but I’m not anywhere close to being able to forgive him for not telling me about all this
before
he married me.”

A car in front of us slowed, and Adam changed lanes. “I’m going to overlook the armed comment for the moment and go straight to playing devil’s advocate. When you married, both of you were stressed to the max. Annie was close to dying, you’d recently learned about your grandmother’s death, and that you had a surviving grandfather. And then there were the rumors, and truths, about Loyria Gray. From a guy’s perspective, Mitch needed to protect you, and there’s no question he loves you.”

I wasn’t buying it. “Kind of a skewed way to love, doncha think?”

Adam tipped his sunglasses down, eying me over the frame. “Isn’t it always?”

That stopped me in mid-thought. “Yeah. I guess you’re right about that. Love is unpredictable, and basically indefinable, because every person is different. My emotions are influenced by so many things, sometimes it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s not.”

Adam nodded, turning onto the airport access road. “I can’t completely fault Mitch, Everly. There hasn’t been a single day since Annie first told me she was going to sniper school that I haven’t wanted to protect her, to force her to quit working for three-letter agencies, and do something safe.”

He had to be kidding. “Like that would ever happen. She can’t stop mucking around with her computers. And where would we be without her gifts?”

I unfastened my seatbelt, and turned to face him. “I’d be dead.”

Saying the words, hearing them out loud, spread a rush of serenity through me. I hadn’t thought about the day I’d been in the sights of a deranged killer for a long time. I wasn’t dead. My mother left me a legacy that was both horrific and beautiful, and my grandfather bestowed me with the gift of healing. No matter what happened between Mitch and me, I would be okay.

I jumped down from the passenger seat and slammed the truck door closed. “I have the strength and the skill to deal with the people jerking Mitch around, and with Xifeng.”

“You sure about that?” Adam joined me, beeped the truck locked, and pocketed his keys.

His words pulled doubt from the dark corner of my brain, where I’d conveniently stashed it, right out into the open. “Yeah. I have to be sure, because it’s my gift and it isn’t going away.” I listened to my words, let them sink in. I did have the strength and skill to deal with this, but more importantly, I had the heritage. And I told him so.

 
“Okay. One more thing,” Adam added. “Keep that weapon in your purse. I’ve called in backup to help monitor the situation, and—”

“You what?” I yanked my sunglasses off to get a better look at him.

“Whitney Boulay. She’s at loose ends, about to retire, and agreed to help me with surveillance today. If Mitch’s handler tries anything…”

Adam’s eyes, so like Annie’s, sparked with a glint of danger. I shoved my shades tight against my nose. No point showing him how ticked off I was, and if his eyes were sparking, so were mine. “Bringing more people into this, Adam, it’s a bad idea.” I didn’t go into the part about not wanting anyone else’s safety on my conscience.

“She’s good people. Just got back from transporting a friend to intensive care in Seattle, and won’t get a new assignment because she’s scheduled to retire in a matter of days.”

There was something screwy about adding this Whitney Boulay woman into the mix, but I had to trust Adam. To a point. “I want to meet her, and if I don’t like her you have to send her back where she came from.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get to it.” He beeped the locks closed on his truck, and led me across the sky bridge.

“She’s hanging out at Starbucks.” Adam nodded toward the familiar green and white awning.

And there she sat. Elegance personified. The sun caught the richness of brown highlights in her black hair. She’d pulled it back into a tight tail that showed off cheekbones guaranteed to make a supermodel jealous. And she’d perched to advantage on a high stool with her legs crossed, and her shoes—holy Mamma Mia. The stiletto heels were deep red with a delicate ankle strap. I have a proven weakness for red strappy sandals, and I’d be adding these to my collection in the very near future. Her arm muscles rippled delicately, and were shown off by a sundress patterned with a huge red hibiscus.

My gaze settled on her face, and I mentally removed her oversized sunglasses. My stomach heaved and I grabbed Adam’s wrist. “I know her. She was at the hospital.”

Adam jerked away from me, yanked off his sunglasses, and tracked the space between Whitney Boulay and me, and then totally relaxed. “Of course. Her friend was burned. It makes sense she’d be in the same unit with Millie.”

I inhaled, coughed. Hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing. “The coincidence is… I don’t believe in coincidence, Adam.”

He took my elbow. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

The woman had power, and was probably gifted, because the energy arcing between us was palpable. I stuck my hand out, a not-so-subtle dare. “You look familiar. I’m Everly Gray Hunt.”

She inched a pair of oversized shades down her nose. “Detective Whitney Boulay.”

The space between us sizzled, and then she hit me with an okay-I’ll-bite smile. Her hand was cool and relaxed in mine. Images spun across my monitor, fast and furious. Putting her friend on the life-support plane, watching over her for the whole flight. The emptiness of the return trip. A strange interaction with a mixed-race woman who had vibrant brown eyes, a guy in a suit that set her hormones spinning, another guy who was in a bunch of scenes, but that relationship was like Adam and me.

Detective Boulay spread her fingers, broke my hold on her hand, and glared at Adam. “You didn’t tell me she was psychic.”

He raised his hands in clear defeat, and then let them drop. “Nope. Slipped my mind. Let’s start this over. Everly Gray I’d like you to meet Detective Boulay of the HPD. She’s going to help us with surveillance today.”

I channeled my inner angel. “I apologize for trespassing, Detective. It’s not something I do lightly, but this situation involves my husband and possibly my life. I had to be sure about you.”

The wind loosened a thick strand of hair and blew it across her face. With a smooth, graceful tug, she freed her tail and the heavy mass cascaded down her back in loose waves. This woman was the breathing embodiment of sex. Even Adam responded with a hoarse cough and flood of color to his cheeks. Anyone with that much power, I wanted on my side.

“I’m not the only gifted person here, am I?” I asked.

She smiled. “No, but my talent is too new to be reliable. Detective Stone neglected to give me much background information on the situation. Why don’t you fill me in, then?”

It was the first thing she’d said that carried a British accent, and it sounded…cool. There was something about her I liked, besides her obvious loyalty to her friends. “I’ll just order a latte and join you at that table,” I said, pointing to an out-of-way spot in the shade.

She nodded, grabbed her venti iced drink, and headed toward the back of Starbucks. I turned to Adam. “You want anything?”

“No, I’m going inside. Want to find the best place for you to meet up with Mitch.” He thumbed his phone on. “We have about thirty minutes before you need to text him with an ‘on the ground’ message. I briefed him about Whitney earlier, so he won’t panic if he spots her dogging your steps.”

The barista handed me my drink in exchange for a handful of bills. “I like this woman, Adam. And you were right, we could use an extra set of eyes.”

“Good to know.” He glanced at my drink. “I hope that’s decaf. We can’t have you buzzing for this meet.”

I tipped the plastic cup toward him. “It is. You want me to wait here until you come back?”

“Yes. You’re acting—”

I couldn’t let him finish the thought. “I’m fine, and I’ll be even better after I’ve learned more about our backup detective. Besides, you don’t want me in there until the timing fits the flight schedule.”

His face drained of color. “You don’t have any luggage.”

“No, but that’s not out of character.” I tapped my oversized handbag. “This is big enough to pass for a carry-on, and surely these agent-type people will know I’m here often, and probably have some clothes stored at Annie’s.”

“You do?” he asked.

“Yep.” I didn’t waste time explaining that Annie had filled my dresser before I arrived. “I’ve got this, Adam. Go do whatever’s necessary inside.”

I gave him a finger wave before I hurried to join Whitney Boulay. We were going to be friends—the first woman I’d met with gifts like mine.

My chat with Detective Boulay went well. I learned about her background with Scotland Yard, and later MI5, that dead people talked to her, and that she was a mix of highbrow English and down-home Cajun. I shared a rough outline of my current situation with her, but the one thing I didn’t mention: In my ESP video of her, I’d clearly seen two images of the future.