Virgil walked up on the wraparound porch of his Victorian home, the scent of honeysuckle taking his mind back to summer nights when he was a kid and slept with the windows open.
Garfield meowed and jumped down from the porch swing and rubbed against his ankles.
Virgil bent down and scratched the cat’s chin. “Okay, I admit you’re growing on me. But I’m still a dog person.” He turned the knob and opened the beveled glass door, and was hit with a blast of cold air, and the pervasive aroma of something delicious.
Drake bounded into the foyer and sat as he’d been taught to do at obedience school, his tail swishing back and forth across the wood floor, his exuberance barely containable.
Virgil rubbed his ears and smiled at his mismatched eyes, one blue and one brown. A German shepherd–Australian sheepdog mix, this rescue dog had turned out to be a lovable companion. “Hey, buddy. Sorry I’m late. I’ll bet you’re dying to get out and run.”
Jill Beth came into the entry hall, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel, wearing a smile that could melt an iceberg. “I hope you’re hungry. I made curry chicken—the lowfat version, which means you get seconds.”
Virgil took off his hat and put his arms around her, letting his lips melt into hers. “That’s the nicest thing that’s happened to me today. And I have a feeling that curry chicken is going to run a close second.” He hung his hat on the coatrack and followed Jill Beth into the kitchen.
“I thought we could eat in the dining room,” she said. “I put candles on the table and some fresh gardenias. I thought it might help take the edge off after the day you’ve had.”
Virgil smiled. “You thought right.”
“Oh, and number three son came by after work and took Drake with him when he went out jogging, so you don’t have to take him out for a run unless you want to.”
“That was awful nice of Reece. To tell you the truth, it does sound good just to sit and enjoy a nice dinner with my sweetheart before I have to go back in later.”
“Well, it’s just simmering,” Jill Beth said, “so I’m ready when you are to get it on the table.”
“You won’t have to ask me twice.” Virgil washed his hands at the kitchen sink, then helped Jill Beth carry the food to the table.
He pulled out a chair and seated her, lit the candles, turned on some soft instrumental music, then stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, and said grace.
Following the amen, she filled their plates as he took his seat.
“Isn’t this nice,” he said. “You always know just what I need.” He took a bite of curry chicken and savored it. “This is so good, darlin’. I could eat it seven days a week.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her face glowed in the candlelight, and his mind flashed back to the first dinner they had together as newlyweds.
Jill Beth handed him a roll. “So tell me whatever it was you said could wait until dinner.”
“Sorry,” Virgil said. “I didn’t want to discuss it on the phone. Hawk Cummings is now a person of interest in an FBI investigation.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.” Virgil told her the details of Hawk’s and Dennis’s statements, and about Romo’s unnecessarily dramatic arrival at the courthouse steps, announcing he was there to take control of the Kennedy Taylor kidnapping case. Virgil knew he couldn’t tell her that Kennedy was dead or that Hawk was at great risk.
Jill Beth put down her fork and looked at Virgil. “Poor Hawk. Do Kate and Elliot know about this?”
Virgil nodded. “Hawk told them the whole story just before he and Dennis came in to give their statements. I talked to Kate earlier about the FBI’s involvement.”
“They must be disappointed in Hawk,” Jill Beth said. “And yet so worried. Hawk must be devastated.”
Virgil took a sip of water. “Yes on all counts.”
“This Romo sounds like a jerk.”
“Oh, maybe not. I get that he’s just doing his job, but it would be nice if he didn’t make me feel irrelevant.”
“Well, he’ll find out you’re anything but that,” Jill Beth said.
“We can only hope.”
Jill Beth got quiet for what seemed an eternity. “Virgil, what in the world was the drone thing about? It’s frightening. Do you think she was involved in a drug cartel or something?”
“Darlin’, I have no idea. But I certainly intend to push Romo for more details before I’m willing to put my people in harm’s way.”
“Of course, you won’t be able to tell me anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Virgil said. “This thing will be over before you know it.”
Hawk raked his hands through his hair, his elbows planted on the table that separated him from Special Agent in Charge Christopher Romo and Special Agents Justin Boone and Nick Jefferson.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Hawk’s gaze moved from Romo to Boone to Jefferson. “I can’t think of a single detail I left out.”
Jefferson leaned forward, his hands folded on the table. “I find it implausible that Kennedy never talked to you in those, shall we say, afterglow moments. Women always have something to say.”
“She never talked much,” Hawk said. “She might’ve said something then. She probably did. But she never alluded to being in danger. Both her parents had died, and she inherited a huge fortune. She came to Foggy Ridge to start fresh. That’s the extent of her life that she shared with me.”
“Didn’t she tell you where she was born? Where she grew up?”
Hawk sighed. “No. She didn’t. Oh, but she did tell me she hated cell phones because of the radiation.”
Romo smiled. “Okay, Hawk, I get that you’re tired of being questioned. But Jefferson has a point. We’re just trying to jog your memory a little, that’s all.”
“Sir, my memory doesn’t need jogging,” Hawk said. “I’ve told you everything there is to tell.”
“Really? What about the dream?” Boone said.
Hawk blew out a breath. “What dream?”
“The one you told the sheriff about.” Boone raised his eyebrows. “The dream that Kennedy said she’d had over and over again since she was a little girl.”
“You mean the dream where she grew wings and could fly wherever she wanted?”
“Yes,” Romo said. “The dream you failed to mention.”
“Because it was nothing,” Hawk said. “I didn’t think to mention it because it was nothing.”
Boone pushed his glasses up on his nose. “But you remember it now?”
Hawk shrugged. “Sure. Kennedy mentioned that ever since she was a little girl, she’d had this recurring dream that she grew wings and could fly wherever she wanted and look for her real home.”
“And she never once told you what she meant by her real home?” Boone said.
Hawk folded his arms across his chest. “It was a dream, for crying out loud. I didn’t ask what it meant because I didn’t want to spoil the mood. I knew she’d lost both of her parents and figured she was still grieving.”
“But she was talking about a dream she’d had since she was a little girl,” Jefferson said. “She was clearly talking about something else.”
Hawk folded his hands on the table and mused. “Looking back, I suppose you’re right. I just remember feeling her loneliness and not wanting to get caught up in it. We had a good thing going. I didn’t want the rest of the evening to be a downer.”
Boone half smiled. “Fair enough. This is a really important question, Hawk. There’s no right or wrong answer. I just need the truth. Did Kennedy ever talk about her country of origin? Her travels? Her father’s occupation?”
Hawk thought carefully, his mind trying to separate the carnal from everything else. Finally, he said, “No, but she did have a subtle accent I couldn’t place. I asked her about it. She said her father was from the northeast and her mother was from the south, and that some of her words were a blend of both accents.”
“But she never hinted at her father’s occupation?”
Hawk shook his head. “No, sir. And she never mentioned having traveled. Like I said before, she talked very little about herself or her parents. She shared her heart without words. It’s hard to explain, but there was something beautiful about it. In hindsight, if she were holding anything back, I read it as grief.”
“Sounds like you were in love with her,” Jefferson said.
Hawk felt the heat rush to his face.
“Okay, gentlemen. I’ll take it from here.” Romo loosened his tie and looked at Hawk. “I know you’re anxious to know exactly what we’re dealing with. So put on your big boy pants and take a deep breath. Ready?”
Hawk nodded.
“Your lady’s name was not Kennedy Taylor. I’m not at liberty to reveal what her real name was, but from this point on, we’re going to refer to her as Nameless.”
“You said was.” Hawk’s pulse raced as he forced out the words, “Is she … dead?”
Romo stared at his hands. “She is. I’m sorry. I know you must’ve wondered about her.”
“All the time,” Hawk said. “I should’ve reported her missing right away. If I had, maybe she’d still be alive.”
“Don’t even go there. Nothing you could’ve done would’ve changed the outcome.”
Hawk swallowed hard. “I feel bad that I never had the chance to say good-bye. Can you tell me how she died?”
Romo blinked, a flicker of compassion in his eyes. “That’s classified. But I assure you, she didn’t suffer.”
“Can you at least tell me why she died?” Hawk said. “I feel like I’m living in the twilight zone. I think I deserve some answers.”
“You do.” Romo looked at Jefferson and then at Boone. “But it’s complicated, Hawk. Let’s move on and things will become clearer. You see, Nameless had a five-million-dollar bounty on her head. And there is a highly motivated bounty hunter—an exceedingly bad guy—tracking her down. Our intelligence indicates there’s a high probability that he knows she’s been involved with you, and he’s coming to find you and get you to tell him where she is.”
“B-but she’s dead,” Hawk heard himself say. “I don’t know anything.”
Romo nodded. “Unfortunately, he won’t just take your word for it. If he gets his hands on you, he’ll torture you until he’s convinced you can’t help him, and then he’ll kill you.”
“You won’t let that happen, right?” Hawk could hardly catch his breath and suddenly wished the sheriff was in the room. “Does Sheriff Granger … know this?”
“I told him,” Romo said, “just before he went home this evening.”
Hawk felt as if his brain were ready to explode.
“This bounty hunter is on a quest to find Nameless and collect his five million bucks,” Romo said. “You’re his next stop. Count on it.”
“Okay, I get the picture!” Hawk said. “You can protect me, right?”
“There is a way, but it will require mutual trust and courage on the part of all concerned.”
“Let’s hear it,” Hawk said.
Romo picked up a pencil and bounced the eraser on the table. “Hawk, we need you to do what might be the bravest thing you’ll ever do in your lifetime. We need you to help draw out this bounty hunter so we can capture him and take him into custody.”
Hawk stared at Romo, processing his words. “You want me to be the bait?”
“My orders are to bring him in unharmed. He’s no good to us dead. That said, capturing him is also the only way we can protect you. Otherwise, you’ll be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life—and so will your family.”
“How serious is the threat to my family?”
“Minimal,” Romo said, “as long as the bounty hunter thinks he can get to you. If not, he would likely threaten your family to draw you out. That’s why we need your help. I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not without risk. But with each member of my team and Sheriff Granger’s team working together to ensure your safety, it’s doable. In fact, I think I have a workable plan I’d like to run by the sheriff yet tonight. Before I do that, I need to know if you’re on board.”
“I guess I’ll have to be.” Hawk wiped the perspiration off his upper lip. “Does your intelligence know when this bounty hunter is supposed to show up?”
Romo leaned forward on his elbows. “Hawk, I can’t get into specifics, but we have to put a plan in place now. We have no time to waste.”