Surrender (4 page)

Chapter Five

Lauren hadn’t said a word. Brett could respect that she didn’t want to talk. He kept quiet about his connection to John and ‘last night’ for the time being. Now he felt hungry. They had a couple of hours before they reached Ocean City. His superior would have another car ready for him about fifty miles from his place. Used to being undercover, Brett knew the importance of shaking anyone from his tail. He pulled the car into a diner off the road. Lauren tossed him an empty look.

“I know, it’s still not the Ritz, but I’m hungry. We must eat.” Brett felt empathy for her. He knew how she lived and tried to understand how difficult this must all be for her.

“I’m not hungry,” she announced rather stubbornly.

“I am and you can’t stay here alone.” Brett opened the door for her and she pouted as she followed him into the run-down diner. He pointed to a back-corner booth to keep their visibility low, and then followed Lauren, observing everyone in the diner as they passed by. He felt safe enough to quickly grab a bite to eat. He ordered for both of them. He hoped she might eat something. Lauren picked at her food. Brett inhaled his.

“Are you done?” he asked. She’d barely touched it.

“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” she snapped back.

Brett ignored her tone, stood up and left money on the table. “It’s time to go.”

Lauren got into the car and removed her shoes immediately. She rubbed her feet.

“Sore?” he asked with genuine concern.

“You try running in these shoes through the woods, and then walk for miles afterward!”

Brett keyed the ignition and began to drive. He knew he couldn’t say anything to make her feel better. He remained focused on his assignment to keep her alive. He ignored what his heart felt. The flashbacks of her in his arms, his lips against hers, made it difficult.

They stopped not long after the diner. Brett pulled into a parking lot behind a second-hand store. He knew another snobbish comment would come his way.

“First a dive-motel, then a run-down diner; now a second-hand store.” Lauren threw a fiery-eyed look at Brett. “Have you no clue that I am a Vanderholm?”

Brett smiled only to irritate her further.

“I refuse to go in there!”

He held the car door open and waited for her to storm past him again. It started to become a usual routine and a rather amusing one to him.

“My job is to keep you alive. Your job is to follow my orders.”

He motioned for her to get out of the car. Her eyes were on fire as she exhaled a quick breath. Lauren entered the second-hand store standing out like a sore thumb. Not just by the way she dressed in a Chanel pant suit, but with her snobbish attitude. She stood with her arms crossed and a pout on her face while Brett picked out a new outfit for her disguise.

“These should fit.” He handed her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He figured he knew her size. His hands had travelled every curve of her body the night before. Making love to her burned in his memory. He shook those thoughts and remained focused. Brett had one-night stands before. This one was different. He wondered why. He couldn’t get her out of his thoughts and it wasn’t the assignment to protect her. Lauren grabbed the clothes from his hand after he ordered her into the changing room and to bring the clothes she’d been wearing. He went to pay for the items.

“What are those for?” Lauren tossed her clothes at him and Brett placed them in a bag. He did not want her to stand out the way she did. He knew she wasn’t happy with him but at least now she would blend in. The clothes she’d worn were fine for shopping at Saks, but not on the run.

“They are for your feet. They’ll be more comfortable than the things you’re wearing now,” Brett smirked.

“I don’t do flip-flops,” she informed him.

“You do now.” Brett held open the bag he had her old clothes in.

Lauren threw her heels in the bag and put on the flip-flops and stormed out the door. Brett followed with a smile. He actually enjoyed her temper tantrums.

“Where are we off to now Agent?”

The tone in Lauren’s voice only made him chuckle. Brett pulled into the parking lot of a small coffee shop. He parked and smiled at Lauren. “We will meet my superior here to change cars. I need to get you to Ocean City without being followed. I will keep you alive.” He grabbed their bags from the trunk and walked around to her door.

“Kevin Williams…Lauren Reynolds.” Brett introduced them then tossed their bags in Kevin’s car.

Kevin held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Reynolds. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

  Lauren simply nodded and smiled politely. Brett opened the car door for her. She remained quiet.

“She hasn’t said too much lately.” Brett informed Kevin after he closed her door.

“Do you blame her?” Kevin asked.

Brett spoke with Kevin for a few minutes and joined Lauren in the car. The drive to Ocean City remained a quiet one. Brett understood she’d been through a lot and didn’t push for a conversation. He figured she’d talk when ready.

Lauren gasped. “This is your home?” as Brett pulled into the driveway of an extravagant beach home.

“I told you it would be better than the dingy motel. I hope you will be more comfortable here.” Brett smiled. He could tell by the expression on her face that she was pleased.

“I expected a one-room dirty bachelor apartment that might require a torch,” she blurted out.

Brett laughed. “That would be my place in Mexico.”

Lauren got out of the car and watched Brett open the first of three garage doors and parked the car inside. He closed the door and met Lauren in the driveway. She hadn’t moved. She appeared mesmerized with his home.

“This is magnificent.” She smiled at him.

“It’s good to see you smile, Lauren. I know the past twenty-four hours have been hard on you.” Brett put his arm around her without thinking and then eased back.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“Remarkable,” Lauren announced as she entered the front foyer.

“How the hell do you afford this on a cop’s salary?”

The elaborate exterior of cedar and redwood made the three-story home stand out. But the exquisite interior design was something one would only see in a magazine. She watched Brett disarm the house at a keyboard mounted on the wall in the front foyer. At the touch of buttons, the window shades began to rise. Windows spanned the entire back of the house and with the cathedral ceilings, the sunlight penetrated deep throughout the house.

Brett smiled. “I changed my name when I was in college. It used to be Brett Donnelly.”

Lauren flashed him a questioning look, “As in the New York real estate Donnelley?”

“That’s my father and grandfather, not me. I never wanted to go into the family business. My father never forgave me for not following in his footsteps and changing my name,” Brett remarked sadly.

“You wanted to be a cop?”

“Since I was a young boy, actually I always wanted to work with the FBI,” Brett shared.

It was unlike him. He never shared with anyone, except John Reynolds in college. It surprised him he’d shared personal information with Lauren. He wondered if he truly had feelings for her.

“How did you end up in Mexico?”

“That’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you. Would you like that grand tour now?”

He quickly changed the subject. He may have shared a piece of personal information but to get into the reason why he ended up in Mexico wasn’t something he shared with anyone. Not John. Not his superior.

She respected his privacy and asked no further questions. She smiled, “Great idea.”

He positioned his arm for her to loop hers through for the tour. Lauren looked up at Brett.

“You know you’re not the only great listener.”

He smiled and nodded. He began describing the house to her but what she’d said touched his heart. There hadn’t been anyone in his life that cared since his parents and only serious relationship died. His father may have been pissed that he didn’t join the family business and that he changed his name to join the Secret Service, but Brett had been loved by his parents. He just never confided that to anyone.

****

Impressed with Brett’s home she noted he definitely had exquisite taste in furnishings. She wondered if he had done any of it himself or hired someone. There were many family heirlooms throughout the house that Brett thoroughly described to her.
He comes from old money. My father would be impressed.
She wondered why she thought that. It wasn’t like they were dating. She was Brett’s assignment but she wasn’t an assignment the night before. Then Lauren began to wonder if it had been part of the assignment to calm her and keep her quiet, or if he actually wanted to make love to her. She wondered why she even thought of her father and whether he approved. It wasn’t as though she ever cared what he thought. Lauren loved her father but she was closer to her mother. Her mother always told her not to argue with her father and he would come around, if not for caring but for appearance sake. Lauren had been taught that at a young age. It was true. Her father had lightened and accepted John into the family. Though it did surprise her even though her mother assured her it had been for appearance sake. Lauren found it odd for her father to not only accept John into the family, but make him a partner in his business. She’d shrugged these thoughts aside because of her love for John and she wanted to be happy. Lauren had convinced herself that her father found the son he always wanted to continue the family business, and left it at that.

The second floor consisted of a luxurious master suite with a fireplace and a hot tub on the balcony.

“The best spot to watch the most spectacular sunsets,” Brett said and pointed to the hot tub.

He tossed his bag on the four-poster king sized bed and motioned her into the hallway to continue the tour.

She wondered if the hot tub was an invitation for later. Her mind kept travelling off course but she smiled without comment as she shook off her thoughts and reminded herself that she’d just buried her husband the day before. Lauren noticed the photo on his bedside table. She picked up the framed picture and turned to Brett.

“This is the same picture you had on my kitchen table last night.”

But Brett ignored her and walked out of the room. She followed him and grabbed his arm, “Brett, are these people your parents?”

He turned to her with sadness in his eyes. “Yes.”

“Are they caught up in this mess too?”

“No, they’re not. They’re dead.” Brett’s quick direct tone told her he didn’t want to talk about them. His eyes told her something different.

“What happened to them?” Lauren reached out and touched his arm gently.

“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were senseless murders.”

Brett shrugged his shoulders and continued down the hall describing the other three rooms on the second floor; a den and two guest bedrooms, neither of which looked like they’d ever been used. The den definitely looked more lived in than any other room in the house. This didn’t surprise Lauren. From the short time she’d known Brett, it seemed like work consumed his life. He’d placed her bag on the bed in the room beside his. She wondered if he was being a gentleman or if he thought the night before had been a mistake. The third floor had a library, theatre room and a gym. Lauren followed, listening to him, and didn’t ask any more about his parents. She sensed his pain and thought it best to change the subject.

“You have a spectacular home Brett.” Thank you for the tour.

“I promised you it would be better than that dingy motel,” he said and smiled.

And for some reason I think I would rather be in that dingy motel room again with you, no air, a steam-filled room and your naked body
, she thought.

“Hungry?” His question startled her out of her desirable image of him.

“Is food always on your mind?”

“Yes.” He laughed.

“Actually, I am hungry.”

“It’s been three years since I’ve been in my kitchen. I’ve missed it.”

“You’ve been in Mexico for three years?” Lauren followed him down the stairs, surprised and shocked he’d been away from his beautiful home for so long.

“As I told you before, it’s a long story.” Brett continued down the stairs without a glance back at her.

“I have the time since you won’t let me get back to my own life.” Lauren laughed. She almost believed for a moment she’d become accustomed to being on the run. He pulled out a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen for her to have a seat.

“Its top secret and I would have to kill you after I told you.” He laughed.

She figured he was joking, she hoped anyway.
He wouldn’t be the only one wanting to kill her these days.

“Agent Donovan, you continue to surprise me. You have all of this but choose Mexico and the drug cartel instead, and it appears you are a master chef in the kitchen.”

Brett looked over his shoulder and smiled. “I love to cook and I’m always hungry.”

“So Agent, what other secrets do you have?”

Brett grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack and two glasses. “Would you care for a glass of wine while dinner is cooking?”

She nodded.

“What makes you think I have secrets?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the fact that you would have to kill me after you told me about your life and your choices.” Lauren tasted the wine. “You’re a wine connoisseur as well?”

He tipped his glass to hers in answer to the question.

“I started with the Secret Service after the academy and a position in Narcotics came up for an undercover assignment in Mexico to stop the drug operation out of New York. I stumbled across John’s warehouse about six months ago. Last week I discovered there was a hit assigned for both of you. The Washington office said they had men in New Jersey to protect you and John. Then Kevin called a couple of days ago with the news that John had been killed. We are so close to cracking this case wide open and making arrests, but there’s something or someone missing in the puzzle. There has to be someone who knows how to hide the money and invest it elsewhere. It’s been hard to trace. If I can figure that out, I can make my arrests. I thought John might be the one to lead me to the main partner. Now that’s impossible.” Brett walked out onto the back terrace. Lauren followed and placed her hand on his back for comfort. He appeared more sad than frustrated. She wondered why. He didn’t know her or her husband.

“I still can’t believe John was caught up in this mess. I thought I knew my husband.”

Brett turned to face her. “I was just as shocked when I first discovered John’s involvement.”