Covert Evidence (48 page)

Washington, DC

September

C
ressida waited outside CIA headquarters. A crisp wind brushed her cheeks, making her wonder how the season had turned so quickly. The leaves had yet to change colors, but still, fall was in the air. She glanced at her watch. Today was supposed to be a simple formality, but it was taking too long.

Finally, Ian stepped out of the building, and she caught her breath as she took in the sight of him, always reminded of her first glimpse across the terminal in Antalya. The man was, quite simply, gorgeous, but that was a rather shallow method for judging a person, really. So instead, she chose to judge him on his actions and quickly ran out of fingers and toes to list the ways in which he’d protected her, defended her, and, in the end, loved her.

“It’s official. John Baker is dead,” he said and dropped a kiss on her lips.

“Long live Ian Boyd.” She linked her arm in his. “So, do we have a wake or a party?”

“I’m Scottish. Aren’t they the same thing?”

“I thought that was an Irish wake.”

“Admittedly, I’m more familiar with Middle Eastern customs.”

“Oh, so we get to teach Ian how to be a good Scottish American, do we?” she said in a really bad brogue.

Ian laughed, a full, head-back, facing-the-sun, free laugh, something he did with more and more regularity as they settled into their life together. She loved making him laugh. But then, she pretty much loved everything about him.

“The deputy director asked me to stay on as an analyst again.”

“Are you considering it?”

“No. Not even when the director resigns.” The director had been the one who’d recruited Patrick Hill—who, they’d learned in the last weeks, had been a CIA informant, which was how his dealings with foreign terrorists and arms dealers had been noted but not investigated over the years. To save face for harboring—and possibly even creating—the biggest US traitor in CIA history, the director had sought a public explanation that exonerated Hill while throwing Ian under a bus.

They’d also learned that when Hill’s previous handler retired, Zack—who remained at large—had been tapped as his replacement. Zack was far more astute than his predecessor and caught on to Hill’s activities. Instead of turning him in, however, Zack had demanded a cut. So Hill put Zack to work, ensuring the CIA case officer was in too deep to betray him.

Fortunately, the FBI was more interested in the truth than covering for the CIA director, and it was only a matter of time before the director would be forced to step down and Zack would be found and prosecuted.

Hill had survived the helicopter crash and was in custody awaiting trial. Todd had undergone multiple surgeries to repair the damage from the gunshot wound. He was expected to recover and would likely receive a reduced sentence in exchange for testifying against Hill.

“I’m going to tell Keith I’ll take the deputy director’s offer,” Ian continued, “unless Raptor offers me a signing bonus and lets me delay my start date until November.”

“Negotiating is a game to you, isn’t it?”

He pressed their clasped hands into the small of her back and swung her around to face him. His lips were an inch from hers as he murmured, “Yep.” Then he kissed her, holding nothing back even though they were in front of CIA headquarters in the middle of the day.

“Rent a room, Boyd,” a man said as he walked past.

Cressida and Ian broke apart in laughter. “Do you know him?” she asked.

Ian glanced at the man’s back as he strode toward the entrance. “Nope.” Then he kissed her nose and said, “And it’s not just because I like yanking Keith’s chain. With your job at NHHC delayed until late October, I was thinking we should enjoy the time off together. Maybe go visit your mother.”

“Or try to find yours?” she asked softly. It was a suggestion, not a push.

“Not yet, Cress. But someday, yeah.”

“Okay.” They resumed walking. “I got a call while you were inside. Erica is throwing a going away party for Undine, since she’s leaving for the underwater excavation in the Strait of Juan de Fuca next week.”

“A dinner party?”

“Yes. I said we’d be there. But if you aren’t comfortable, I can go alone. I know it’ll be weird, with Keith being your boss and all. And Erica will be mine when I start at NHHC.”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just…I’ve never been to a dinner party before. I mean, as Ian. John went to many, but he always had an agenda, information he wanted, or a person he wanted to recruit.”

“Well, if it’s more fun for you, we could pretend the party is a covert op…”

He laughed again, and again she felt a warm buzz. “No. I like having friends and don’t want to mess that up.”

They reached their car, and instead of unlocking the doors, Ian pressed her against the side of the vehicle and kissed her, slow, long, and deep, then he said against her lips, “But you know what I like even more than having friends?”

“What?” she whispered, staring into his intent warm gray eyes.

“That when I’m with you, I know I’ve found home.”

Author’s Note

I
n the late nineties, my husband worked for the underwater archaeology branch of Naval History and Heritage Command (then called the Naval Historical Center) at the Washington Navy Yard in Washington, DC. While he was there, he was asked by one of the historians to help move an old armored file cabinet, which had been classified as top secret sometime after World War II. The keys to the cabinet had long since been lost, and no one knew what was inside, nor did anyone really care beyond idle speculation, as the contents were likely to be so outdated as to be irrelevant to today’s US Navy. The cabinet was merely a nuisance as it got in the staff’s way and was moved from cubicle to cubicle over the years.

To the best of my knowledge, the file cabinet remains locked and forgotten at NHHC; this story is simply my speculation at what treasures could be inside.

Also, while it is true that T. E. Lawrence excavated at Carchemish on the Turkish/Syrian border in 1911 and again in 1914, and he also worked on an expedition on the Sinai Peninsula in 1914 as a cover for British Intelligence, to the best of my knowledge he never conducted archaeological survey or excavation along the border near the Turkish city of Cizre. His role in this story is completely fictional.

T
hank you for reading
Covert Evidence
. I hope you enjoyed it!

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Acknowledgments

T
hank you to my agent, Elizabeth Winick Rubinstein, for your untiring enthusiasm and support for this project, and for the insightful feedback that forced me to dig deep and find the emotional core of this story. Working with you makes me a better writer.

Thank you to Elisabeth Naughton and Joan Swan, who originally plotted this story with me in a hotel room in Bellevue. Later I met in another hotel room with Darcy Burke and Elisabeth, for an intensive writing weekend, where I wrote the shower scene and other chapters in that section of the book. That weekend the three of us made a pact to include a certain line of dialogue in our sex scenes, and I can now say I’ve held up my end of the deal.

Darcy Burke, aside from inspiring the dialogue pact, I have so much to thank you for, but the most important of which is to thank you for being a great and dear friend. I am so lucky to have you not just as a critique partner, but as a person whose friendship goes far beyond our writing world.

Kris Kennedy thank you for your timely and wise critique of an early draft of this manuscript. I would have been lost without you!

Thank you to Gary and Gayle for providing the venue for an amazing retreat where I edited this book in the company of three of the finest authors in the universe: Darcy Woods, Bria Quinlan (AKA Caitie Quinn), and Jenn Stark (AKA Jennifer Chance). Thank you, ladies for sharing that wonderful week with me, and talking me through the rewrites of the final action scene. I need more #MIMayhem and shenanigans!

Jenn Stark, thank you for being available online so I could pester you for immediate feedback when a scene needs help. If you ever block me, I’m doomed.

Thank you to Toni Anderson for the wonderful cover quote and the helpful feedback. And for writing fantastic romantic suspense – I am a total Toni Anderson fangirl! (Read on for a sneak peek at Toni’s fabulous new release!)

Thank you to the Northwest Pixies, our annual retreat always refreshes and inspires me, not to mention that thanks to Rebecca Clark’s coaching, I always go home with less writing-related backaches than when I arrived. Becky, I need you to move in with me. I will make you chocolate martinis whenever you want.

To my editor, Linda Ingmanson, thank you so much for not only copy editing this book, but for beta reading an earlier draft. I so appreciate the continuity you bring to this series and am thankful for your proofreader’s sharp attention to detail. I’ll try to work on my commas and dangling modifiers. I promise.

Thank you to my children just for being you.

Lastly, as I end the acknowledgments in every book, thank you to my husband, David Grant. Thank you for telling me about that old file cabinet at NHHC and for everything you do, but mostly thank you for being the love of my life.

Read the first chapter of
New York Times
and
USA Today
Bestselling Author Toni Anderson’s Cold Justice Series,
Cold Fear
. 

(All books stand alone.)

Cold Fear
(Cold Justice Series #4)