Secret Agent Santa Page 5

  “Makes sense, but he’s a little young.”

  “I know. That was years ago—when I was obsessed.”

  He searched her face for any sign of irony, but he saw only concentration as she shoved the first thumb drive into the USB port on the side of the laptop.

  She double-clicked on the device and then dragged the lone file to the desktop. “I can bring up the videos side by side. The similarities are more apparent that way.”

  She pulled out the drive and inserted the second one. She repeated the drag-and-drop action.

  As she opened the first video, he held his breath. Before she clicked Play, she double-clicked on the other video.

  “Are you ready?”

  His heart pounded in his chest and he didn’t know why. He’d seen the Shane Chadwick video before, and he’d seen a lot worse. But if he saw nothing in the videos, no likeness between the terrorist who murdered Shane and the man meeting with Correll, he’d have to leave. He’d have to leave Claire Chadwick to her delusions and fantasies.

  He didn’t want to leave her.

  “Mike? Are you ready?”

  He scooted his chair closer to the table. “I’m ready. Let’s see what you’ve got here.”

  She played the first video for a few minutes, stopped it and then played the second. Back and forth she went, freezing the action, pointing out the tilt of the man’s head, a hand gesture, the slope of his shoulders, the shape of his face.

  She brought up several frames where she’d zoomed in on his eyes, where it looked like the pupil was bleeding into the iris.

  It was as if she’d prepared and delivered this presentation many times before. She probably had—in her head.

  At the end of the show, she placed her hands on either side of the laptop and drew back her shoulders. “What do you think?”

  Had she cast a spell on him with her violet eyes? Had his desire to stay with her, to protect her, colored his perception?

  He drew in a deep breath. “I think you’re onto something.”

  She closed her eyes and slumped in her seat. “Thank God. You do see it, don’t you?”

  “I do. Both men definitely have the same condition with their right eye.”

  She grabbed his arm. “I’m not crazy, am I? I’m not imagining this?”

  He took her slender hand between both of his. “You’re not crazy, Claire. He may not be the same man. I mean, it would be quite a coincidence, but there’s enough of a similarity between them, especially that coloboma in his eye, to warrant further investigation.”

  She disentangled her hand from his and, leaning forward, threw her arms around his neck. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear you say that.”

  Her soft hair brushed the side of his face, a few strands clinging to his lips, and the smell of her musky perfume engulfed him. He dropped one hand to her waist to steady her so she wouldn’t topple out of her chair.

  A tremble rolled through her body and she pulled away, wiping a tear from her cheek.

  “I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “I usually don’t get emotional like this, but it’s been a long time since I could confide in someone.”

  “I understand, but—” he clicked the mouse twice and closed both videos “—I’m just looking into it at this point. It may lead to nothing.”

  She dabbed her nose with a tissue and squared her shoulders. “Of course. I didn’t mean to put any pressure on you.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood for his punishment. He should’ve comforted her, held her, wiped her tears instead of bringing her back to cold, hard reality.

  “What’s the first step?” She snapped the laptop closed and swept it from the desk.

  “I’m going to send those stills and close-ups I copied to your thumb drive to our team at Prospero. I need to get to my secure computer, which I left in the hotel safe.”

  “We should go back to your hotel anyway, so you can bring the rest of your stuff over to the house.” She stuffed the laptop back into her bag.

  “Exactly, but I’m keeping the hotel room and I’m leaving a few of my things there.”

  “Like your secure laptop?”

  “Yeah. Speaking of security, I think you should put both thumb drives back in the bank once I complete my transmission.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve been guarding those little storage devices with my life.” She waved the other thumb drive and zipped it into an inner pocket of the coat she’d flung across the table.

  “So,” he said as he held up one hand and ticked off his index finger, “we head to my hotel back in DC, I send the images and then we return here to stash everything back in your safe deposit box.”

  She glanced at her expensive-looking watch. “If we can get back here in time. It’s already late.”

  “Then we’ll put both thumb drives in my hotel safe this afternoon, and come back here tomorrow after you drop off Ethan and Lori at the airport.” He stood up and stretched, glancing out the window at the rows of stacks. They’d had the laptop with its gruesome images facing away from the window—just another couple of coworkers poring over a project together.

  “Sounds like a plan.” She shoved out her hand and then laughed when he took it lightly in his own. “Don’t worry, Mike. I’m not going to fall apart again.”

  He squeezed her hand and pulled her in until they were almost nose to nose. He was close enough to see the flecks in her deep blue eyes that gave them their purple hue. “You have every right and reason to fall apart.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Doesn’t mean I should.”

  She broke away from his grasp and spun around to sweep her coat from the table and sling her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get down to business.”

  He stuffed his arms into his jacket and opened the door for her. The giggling teens had finished whatever it was they were doing, a homeless guy slouched in a chair in the corner and the stacks were empty.

  Mike stepped outside behind Claire, and an insistent car alarm assaulted his ears, an unwelcome jolt after the peace and quiet of the library. He stuck his fingers in his ears. “That’s so annoying.”

  “Mike.” Claire quickened her pace down the library steps, clamping her bag against her side.

  “What? Is that your car?”

  “I think it is.” She plunged her hand into her coat pocket and aimed the key fob in front of her, pointing it at her car at the curb.

  The alarm went silent, but the alarm bells in his head replaced it. “That was your car.”

  “I hope nobody bumped it. I haven’t even had it a year.”

  While Claire inspected her front bumper, Mike trailed around the perimeter of the car. He ran his hand along the driver’s side door, skimming his fingers along the windows. “Claire?”

  “Yeah?” Her boots clicked as she walked toward him. “Everything looks okay in the front.”

  “Did you have these scratches on your window like this before?”

  She bent forward rubbing her fingers over the grooves in the glass. “No.”

  “Feel the edge of the door here. Rough, isn’t it?”

  Her eyebrows collided over her nose as she bent forward and traced a finger along the seam where the window met the door. “It does feel rough. How would that happen?”

  His eyes met hers, wide in her pale face. “Someone was trying to use a slim jim to break into your car.”

  She gasped and shot up to her full height. “Do you think the alarm scared them off? Who would do that in broad daylight on the street?”

  “Someone who thought he could make it look like he was just opening the door with a key.” His lips formed a thin line and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

  “You don’t think...?” She flung out one arm. “How would anyone even know we were here? I don’t have any business in Brooktown.”

  He headed toward the trunk, crouched down and poked his head beneath the chassis of her car.

  “Mike, what are you doing?”

  A
few minutes later, his fingers greasy from his exploration, he straightened up and stalked to the front of the car. He dropped to his knees and trailed his fingers along the inside of the wheel well. They tripped over a hard, square object.

  “Bingo.”

  “Bingo? Bingo what?” The slightly hysterical edge to Claire’s voice told him she knew what was coming.

  He yanked the tracking device from her car and held it up. “Someone’s been following you.”

  Chapter Five

  She swayed and braced her hand against the hood of the car. Spencer knew. She’d given herself away somehow. She’d been naive to think a man like Spencer would allow himself to be investigated without turning the tables.

  “I—I don’t understand. I’ve been so careful. Why would he have me followed?”

  Mike squinted at the tracker and then tossed it in the air. “He doesn’t trust you. He probably never forgot that you suspected him of murdering your mother.”

  “That was almost three years ago. Do you mean to tell me he’s been tracking my movements for three years?”

  “Maybe. Have you been anywhere, done anything in those three years that would tip him off to anything?”

  “Just coming here, where I have no reason to be. I just got the safe deposit box about a year ago.”

  “So he knows you have a bank account in Maryland. That’s not much.” He circled to the front of the car and crouched before it, reaching beneath the body.

  “What are you doing? You’re not putting it back?”

  “If you take it off and throw it in the trash, he’s going to know you found it. You shouldn’t do anything different.” He popped back up and wedged his hip against the hood. “Are you sure it’s Correll? Do you have any other enemies?”

  “None that I’m aware of.” She plucked some tissues from her bag and waved them at him. “Wipe your hands on these.”

  “No ex-boyfriends stalking you?”

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t had any boyfriends since...” She shoved the tissues into his hand.

  “Then we’ll assume it’s your stepfather, and all he knows is that you come out to a bank and library in Brooktown a few times a month.”

  “If you leave that thing on there, he’s going to know we went to your hotel in DC.”

  “So what? I already told him I’d taken a room at the Capitol Plaza and left most of my stuff there.” He’d shredded the tissues wiping his hands and then crumpled them into a ball. “Let me get rid of this and we’ll satisfy Correll’s curiosity by going to my hotel.”

  She held up her key as he walked back from the trash can near the steps of the library. “Do you still want to drive?”

  “Sure.” He snatched the dangling keys from her fingers and caught her wrist. “Don’t worry. That tracker told him nothing.”

  She let out the breath trapped in her lungs and nodded. His touch made her feel secure, but she had to be careful. She’d made him uncomfortable with her previous display of emotion. For all his outer friendliness and charm, he had an aloof quality—except when he’d been kissing her last night. He hadn’t seemed to mind her touch then.

  Of course, the drive for sex came from a completely different place than the trigger for empathy. She’d rather have him desire her than pity her, anyway.

  His lashes fell over his dark eyes and he pressed a kiss against the inside of her wrist. Then he dropped her hand. “Let’s get going.”

  She had no idea what emotions had played across her face for him to do that, but she’d have to try to duplicate them sometime soon.

  She slipped into the passenger seat of the car, glancing at the scratches on the driver’s-side window as Mike opened the door.

  When he settled behind the wheel, she turned to him. “If Spencer’s lackey had managed to get into my car, then what? What exactly had he been looking for?”

  “Your laptop? That video?”

  “Spencer couldn’t possibly know about the video. I left it in his trash can after I discovered it.”

  He cranked on the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “He’s grasping at straws, just like you. How did you manage to get into Correll’s laptop?”

  “I bribed his admin assistant, Fiona.”

  “How do you know she didn’t tell him?”

  “She wouldn’t. She let me have access to his laptop and gave me his password. If she had told him that, he would’ve gotten get rid of her for sure and changed his password.”

  “How do you know that wasn’t his plan all along? Why’d she do it? Money?”

  “I’m not going to lie. Money did exchange hands, but I played on the emotions of a woman scorned.”

  “Fiona? Scorned?”

  She plucked an imaginary piece of fuzz from the arm of her sweater. “Spencer had been having an affair with Fiona. I overheard him making plans with another woman for an afternoon tryst. I figured it was a good time to hightail it to his office and do some snooping, and while I was there I let Spencer’s plans for a little afternoon delight drop into Fiona’s lap. She was more than happy to cough up his password and let me into his office.”

  He whistled. “You’re pretty good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff. Does Correll have a weakness for the ladies?”

  “Oh yeah. I can almost guarantee you that he cheated on my mom.”

  “That’s good.”

  She jerked her head to the side and he held up one hand. “Not that he cheated on your mother, but that he has a wandering eye. It’s a weakness that can be exploited, as you discovered.”

  “I like how you think, Becker.” She shoved her hair behind one ear. “I know you have to continue to analyze the videos before committing yourself or the Prospero resources to investigating any further. I’m not getting ahead of the game here, just so you know.”

  “I got it.”

  She lifted her phone from a pocket in her purse. “Excuse me a minute while I check on Ethan. The party should be wrapping up soon, and after finding that device on my car, I honestly can’t wait to get my son out of this town.”

  She got Lori on the phone, but Ethan was too busy with the pony rides to talk. Lori filled her in on all the details, which soothed the twinges of guilt she felt for missing out on spending time with her son.

  When he’d received this party invitation earlier in the month, Claire had arranged for Lori to take him, since Lola had told her an agent would be heading her way before Christmas. As much as she loved seeing all the kids having a blast and chatting with the other moms, this day with Mike had proven to be fruitful.

  She ended the call and sighed as she cupped the phone in her hand while Lori sent her a picture of Ethan on the back of a dapple-gray.

  “Missing the fun? Sounds like a pretty extravagant party if it includes pony rides.”

  “Yeah.”

  She held the phone in front of his face as he idled at a signal.

  “Wow. I never went to birthday parties like that.”

  She traced her finger around Ethan’s smiling face. “Every party he’s been to at this school, it seems like the parents are trying to one-up each other. I’m not sure that’s a very healthy environment for kids. What were your birthday parties like?”

  “I only had one birthday party—for my seventh birthday—and there were definitely no ponies there.” His mouth twisted. “It ended early when my old man showed up unexpectedly, drunk as a skunk, and started popping all the balloons with a lit cigarette.”

  “I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

  “That was my old man—life of his own party.” He dropped his shoulders, which he’d raised stiffly to his ears.

  He pointed to the phone in her lap. “You must’ve had parties like that.”

  “I did.”

  “And you turned out okay.”

  “Did I?”

  “Well, we’ve established you’re not crazy.”

  “Did we?”

  “Even if the guys in the videos aren’t the same person, yo
u have several good reasons to believe they are.”

  Leaning her head against the cold glass of the window, she stared at the landscape whizzing by. “It’s good to have someone on my side.”

  “I tend to be a loner, but having backup is always good.”

  Claire thumbed through a few text messages on her phone, her mind on the man next to her. He reminded her of a chameleon. He could be the charming fiancé, the kid-friendly visitor, the no-nonsense spy. Would she ever get to truly know him?

  She stole a glance at him sideways through her lashes, taking in the strong hands that gripped the steering wheel and the hard line of his jaw. Without a wife, without children, what did he plan to do in his retirement years? He was too young to sit on some pier fishing or to stroll along some golf course.

  “My hotel is coming up. We’ll retrieve my computer from the safe, send the video stills and lock it back up along with your thumb drives.”

  “Then when we get back to the house, we act as if everything’s normal and that we never found a tracker on the car.”

  “And we don’t lie about our whereabouts.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “Depending on how long that tracker’s been attached to my car, it’s already too late for that. I’ve never admitted going to Brooktown, but he’s going to know I’ve been there.”

  “So what? He doesn’t know what you’re doing there and it’s really none of his business, is it?”

  “None at all.” She tilted her chin toward a glittering high-rise hotel. “Isn’t that it?”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping to find a spot in the short-term parking out front so I don’t have to leave the car with a valet.”

  He pulled into the circular drive in front of the hotel and slid into the last available parking space in the small lot to the right of the main building.

  He guided her up to his room and ushered her in first.

  “Nice.” She took a turn around the suite.

  “Only the best for Mitchell Brown. He’s supposed to be a successful businessman. Do you think Correll will be checking me out?”

  “Two hours ago, I would’ve said no. He doesn’t care who I marry since my marriage isn’t going to take anything out of his pocket.” She perched on the edge of a chair by the window. “After finding the tracking device? My bet is he’s going to look up Mitchell Brown to make sure he’s no threat. Will he be?”