Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Emma had left off the last part of Jacob’s message.
Keep this safe
. She wasn’t ready to share the information about the microchip. It was her only leverage, and while she’d chosen to trust in Cole’s good intentions toward the Weston’s and the United States, she hadn’t decided yet if she could trust him—and his confidants—with Jacob’s life.

She traced the grain of the well-polished, oaken table while she waited for Cole to begin, hoping he wouldn’t sense her lie of omission. She lifted her eyes as he began to speak.

“After I graduated college, I went to work in Army intelligence.” He hesitated. “Four years ago, I was on a reconnaissance mission. We embedded in a small town in the Middle East. I befriended a young man.” A pained look crossed his face. “I thought he wanted to help the people of his village. I vouched for him. He was just a kid, growing into a man too soon.”

He looked out the window at the setting sun. Fingers of orange and gold crept across the sky. She suspected the beauty was lost on him.

He laughed. A harsh bark, devoid of humor. “It turned out I invited a bona fide traitor into our team. Almost got us all killed. One of the security contractors, Zach, tried to warn me. But I wouldn’t listen.” Restless fingers tapped against the wood. “I insisted he was wrong. Right up until the moment the kid pulled a gun and shot me. Zach saved my life that day.”

He looked directly at her. “When I mustered out, Zach tracked me down, and I jumped at the chance to work for him. Last year, Zach and his infant son were kidnapped. His wife disappeared a few days later. We searched for weeks and nothing.”

He paused. Clearly, the fruitless search still haunted him. She fought the urge to reach out and comfort him.

“Finally, they outsmarted the crazy, old man who kidnapped them and escaped.” His eyes turned hard. “They outwitted the bastard even though he’d drugged Zach and erased his memories.”

“Forrester.”

“Yeah, he’s Zach’s uncle. There couldn’t be two more different men. Zach’s smart, loyal, a man of integrity. The only thing he had in common with that maniac is intelligence. And looks. They look so much alike, Forrester was able to convince Zach they were father and son. He followed Zach and Lizzie to New York, but we caught him.” He continued his relentless drumming, and she again quelled the desire to still the staccato beat.

“Isn’t he in prison?” She frowned. He was awfully worried about a guy who was already locked up.

“They put him in a damn psychiatric hospital.” His eyes blazed with fury, but his words remained deadly calm. “When I spoke with Zach, he told me that while we were escaping the island, Forrester was escaping the institution. He’s out there, and I have no doubt he’s plotting revenge.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop at his words.

Despite her attempt to remain detached and analytical, an icy frisson of fear ran down her spine. “Do you think he’ll try to kill Zach?”

“No, he wants Zach alive.”

“Why is Zach so important to him?”

“Because his own son, Thomas, is dead—another of his victims. So, now he needs an heir. And Zach’s it until his little boy is old enough to assume control.”

“That’s…that’s crazy.”

“That’s how the old man thinks.”

“So, how does treason play into this? What is he trying to accomplish besides…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “What does he want besides to place Zach in charge of his drug operation?”

Cole nodded. “That’s the thing. He’s not trying to take over a country or secretly control a government. He just wants to amass riches and place his surrogate son at the head of his empire. He wants to be God, and he doesn’t care who he hurts. Someone in a position of power is aiding him in recruiting young men out of the military, and we don’t know who…or why.”

Emma felt her heart drop, certain this crazy, dangerous man was connected to Jacob’s disappearance.

“We should never have brought him in alive.”

Her heart pounded, then calmed as she realized that while her thoughts had shifted to Jacob, he was still discussing Forrester.

Cole rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We should have killed him when we had the chance.”

She reached across the table and took his hand, offering silent comfort, seeking it in return. She lacked the words to tell him it was okay, because, really, it wasn’t. If they’d killed Forrester, maybe Jacob would be safe at home right now.

Cole clasped her hand, watching her closely, and she felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his desire that she understand. “Zach’s not safe, his wife and children aren’t safe, as long as that maniac is out there. I’ve weakened his network, destroyed his resources, but now that he’s free?” He ran a hand along his jaw. “He’ll rebuild.

“We still don’t know who in the government is vouching for him, making it possible for him to recruit our best, young men. We intercepted one of his recruits a couple of weeks ago. The man who introduced him to Alistair was a college professor at West Point. The professor died of a heart attack the day after we brought the guy in.” His jaw set in a hard line. “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

He looked at her. “I can’t tell you strongly enough how dangerous this man is. He’s highly intelligent, resourceful, and completely amoral. He manufactures synthetic drugs—drugs designed to kill without a trace, to permanently erase memories. He sells them to the highest bidder, not caring what person or what country will suffer. “

She studied him. “Besides the fact that Jacob has been seen with Forrester, what makes you think he’s involved? I mean, you’re not suspicious of everyone who talks to him, are you?”

He lifted his brow. “No, we’re not suspicious of everyone. Zach saw a man he’s sure was Jacob on the island when he was held there. Jacob was picked up in a satellite photo at the warehouse shortly before he disappeared. Alistair doesn’t bring the good guys to the warehouse.”

His eyes never left her face while she processed this.

“Jacob must have been trying to get evidence to incriminate Forrester.” Relief coursed through her. Things were beginning to make sense.

Apparently, Cole didn’t agree, because he hesitated before responding, “Maybe. I hope so, but we can’t be sure.”

“Jacob is not a traitor. He would never join forces with a man like Forrester.” She pushed his hand away, frustrated. “You know him.”

Furrows in Cole’s brow deepened. “I know a guy I hung out with for a few days. Under other circumstances, maybe we’d be good friends. But the truth is I don’t really know Jacob.”

She shoved her chair back and stood. She appreciated his honesty, but it angered her as well. She picked up the Mace and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I’ve been betrayed before by someone I trusted. I’ve seen seemingly good men turned by Forrester. But, it’s also possible you’re right, and Jacob was betrayed by him as well.”

She clenched the Mace tight. “Do you…do you think he’s alive?”

“I hope so.” She heard the sincerity in his voice. He shrugged. “Cherise was pretty heavy-handed with her Jacob-might-be-a-bad-guy routine. That actually weighs in Jacob’s favor, I think. Maybe Cherise is working with Forrester, or maybe he’s somehow feeding her misinformation. And if Forrester is involved, then why work so hard to discredit Jacob if he’s dead?”

She strode to the window, catching the final rays of orange as the sun sank below the horizon. Deep in her heart, she was certain she’d know if Jacob was dead. She mulled Cole’s words over in her mind. He thought Jacob was probably alive. He was willing to admit Jacob might be a good guy. Squaring her shoulders, she admitted that she trusted Cole enough to believe
he
was a good guy, that he’d told her the truth.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she trusted him to put Jacob’s safety first in his quest to find Forrester. “What now?”

“Now we eat. Then we buy you some clothes.”

Her gaze shot his way in time to see him slip his phone into his pocket.

“Not that you don’t look good in jeans, but, hey, you’re in Paris, and you might want some birthday clothes to coordinate with your birthday Mace.” He smiled in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

She frowned. “What about all that racing through the streets because we might be followed?”

“Ah well, now you’re thinking like an undercover operative. Well done. Weston has a man outside the inn now. He’s going to keep watch on anyone who might follow us.”

“So now we want to be followed.”

“That’s right.” He beamed at her, reminding her of her own approving smiles when students grasped an important concept. “Then we’ll catch an early morning flight back to the States and meet with Zach. So, what do you say? How about we head out for some food, pick up some clothes, and come back here to try out that Jacuzzi?”

Emma’s eyes widened. Although shadows still lurked in his eyes, a hint of boyish charm lit his face.

“Separately, of course.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Unless…”

She shook her head, appreciating his attempt at humor. Better to explore the city, and maybe find some bad guys, than to sit here and worry when there was nothing she could do tonight. She sauntered to the door, arching one brow at him. “Are you coming? I’m starving.”

Smiling, Cole joined her, opening the door and checking the hallway before they headed out into the early night.


Two hours later, well fed and carrying bags of new clothes, they returned to the inn. To her disappointment, Emma hadn’t spotted the Weston tail, and the tail hadn’t spotted anyone following them.

“You run a bath for yourself,” Cole called from the bedroom. “I’ll read the paper. Let me know if you need anything.”

She didn’t respond, but he heard the sound of the faucet, the gush of water as it poured into the Jacuzzi. He’d witnessed her exhaustion on the walk back, recognizing the signs of someone both physically and mentally ready to shut down.

He’d coaxed her into purchasing a stylish, pale rose silk blouse, a pair of black jeans, and comfortable, yet stylish flats. A casual, silver gray jacket completed the outfit. He removed the clothes from the bag and hung them in the closet. It was a definite sign of her exhaustion that she’d let him buy her clothes, carry them, and now put them away while she ran a bath.

He returned to the sitting room and pulled a chair near the window. Leaning back, he placed his feet on the sill. Emma wasn’t the only one who was tired. He’d kept a careful eye on their surroundings during their outing and seen no sign they were being followed.

He closed his eyes, relaxed, and began to sort through not only what he knew but what he suspected.

And feared.

Cole prided himself on being a problem solver who trusted the facts. He wouldn’t stop until he had answers, whether he liked the answers or not.

A splash from the bathroom interrupted his concentration, followed by the soft ripple of water against the marble tub, hinting of things he definitely did not need to be imagining.

Not when a killer ran free.

The soft sounds of humming reached him next. He tilted his head back against the chair and tried think of anything but joining Emma in the bath.

Moments passed, and he realized Emma must have settled in to soak. He gritted his teeth. That thought was almost worse than the humming. The jets whirred to life. He sighed. He could handle the sound of bubbles.

Cole pictured Zach and Lizzie, the best friends a man ever had. They’d welcomed him into their family. Their two kids called him Uncle Cole. For a man who’d been alone in the world most of his life—his dad left Cole’s mom when he was a baby, and his mom died the summer after he turned eighteen—being part of their family meant everything, and right now, they needed him. Badly.

His unruly mind focused back on work.

Time ceased to register as he analyzed the possibilities. When he’d exhausted every possible avenue, he set his feet back on the ground. A glance at his watch told him Emma had been in the Jacuzzi for over twenty minutes. He listened intently. Still nothing.

Another five minutes. He began to worry. “Emma?” No answer. He rose from his chair and walked to the bathroom door. He knocked. “Emma?”

Nothing.

He turned the handle and pushed the door inward. “Emma…”

She lay still in the marble bath, a plush, ivory towel folded beneath her head. Her thick lashes brushed her cheeks. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched her sleep, but it was the first time he’d watched her sleep peacefully. Candles burned on the far edge of the Jacuzzi.

The jets filled the tub with bubbles that revealed only her graceful neck, her delicate ears, and her lovely face. And of course that thick, glorious hair, piled high on her head.

She drew him in. Her strength, her determination, her bizarre predilection for Mace. Her temper intrigued him, even as her resulting unpredictability made him crazy. He drew a deep, shuddering breath. The woman was sexy as hell. She was perfect.

All of these things called to him, and yet in this moment, naked under a cover of fragrant bubbles, it was her peacefulness that appealed to him the most. He hadn’t known peace in a very long time.

Emma stirred. Luminous brown eyes slowly focused, the golden rims a deep amber in the candlelit room. She eyed him, puzzled.

“Uh, hi.”
Okay, that was smooth
. “I, uh, you were quiet, and I started to worry.” He nodded. “But I guess you’re okay.” He turned to escape, stopping when she spoke his name.

“Cole?”

He turned to face her. “Yes.”

She smiled shyly. “Would you hand me a wash cloth?”

He selected a plush, ivory cloth from the wicker shelves and handed it to her. A graceful arm escaped from the bubbles to receive it, droplets of water cascading back into the foam. He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes from her glistening skin only to be captured by the way her hair shimmered in the candlelight.

“Thanks.” Her husky voice washed over him, enclosing him in warmth.

Holding the washcloth, she picked up the heart-shaped soap and lathered the cloth. Then she raised her foot from the water and rested it on the spigot, revealing a shapely leg. She leaned forward to run the cloth across her painted pink toenails, providing an enticing view of her very feminine back. The washcloth caressed her foot, moving in languorous circles around her ankle, her calves, her knee.

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