AUBREY SAT IN A PADDED CHAIR in the front row of the small chapel and stared up at the stained-glass window. She’d spent the past fifteen minutes praying. For Papps and his family, for Jack, for answers . . .
Jack.
Seeing him again reminded her of the things she missed about him. His smile, his sense of humor, his dedication. It seemed crazy he’d been the one who found her out there on the water, and even more crazy that he thought there was a connection between her abduction and his FBI case. How was that even possible? All she could do was keep praying that Thomas Hwang had answers for them.
“Aubrey?”
She turned around to see Adam walking in with a couple bags of fast food in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. “Hey.”
“I heard you were still here. Thought you might be hungry.”
She stood up and started down the short aisle. “I suppose the security officer standing outside the room was also a giveaway as to where I was.”
Adam shot her a smile. “That did help narrow it down. You okay?”
“I will be. The shower and clean clothes, thanks to Renee, did wonders, and I was also able to talk to the senator’s family for a few minutes.” She glanced back up at the stained glass. “I guess I just needed a quiet spot to sort through everything that’s happened.”
“I can’t blame you. It’s been a long day, and it’s barely noon.” He held up a bag. “Think you can eat in the meantime?”
“Sorry, but I don’t think so.” Her stomach turned as she sat back down on one of the chairs, a mixture of fatigue and worry overshadowing the need to eat. “Is Jack still in with the suspect?”
Adam nodded. “I expect he’ll be done soon, and as soon as he’s finished, I’ll see that Hwang is transferred to the jail. While I’m doing that, Jack is planning to escort you down to the FBI’s satellite office where you will file an official statement.”
“Do you really think I need an escort?”
“Until we know why you were grabbed this morning, it can’t hurt. And the FBI is officially involved now.”
“I just hope Jack gets answers out of this guy.”
“You know Jack. He will.”
“True.” She chuckled at the comment. Jack had always been both determined and stubborn. She looked over at him, still smiling. “I was trying to remember how long it’s been since I’ve seen you. I heard you have two little girls now.”
“I do, and they’re growing like weeds. Michaela turns four next week, and Cora is seven months. I know I’m biased, but they’re the sweetest, most beautiful girls in the world.”
“I’m sure they are. I’d love to see them and your wife again. The last time I saw you, Michaela was just a baby.”
“It’s crazy how time flies. You know you’re welcome to stop by anytime you’re in town.”
She shifted in her chair, thankful that her heart had healed years ago over anything that had once gone wrong between them.
“How often do you see Jack?” she asked.
“Not as often as I’d like. We both try to make it to Mom and Dad’s in Dallas at the same time at least once a year, but he’s pretty busy with his career.”
“I always felt like something came between the two of you when we started dating. I hope that’s not part of it.”
“None of that was your fault.” He sat down across from her. “Even I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I guess it’s natural for people to grow apart. We’re not exactly teenagers anymore, and we live different lives in different places. It’s just the way it is.”
“So he’s never married?” Aubrey winced as soon as she asked the question, wondering why she’d headed in such a personal direction. A decade ago, she’d known Jack’s favorite songs, movies, and foods. Today, he seemed more like a stranger, and she wasn’t even sure how it had happened.
“I know he dates some, but the last time I asked, he didn’t even have a girlfriend.” Adam glanced toward the door. “Speaking of my brother . . .”
Aubrey looked up as Jack walked into the room. She had no idea what had happened with their suspect, but from the look on his face, the interrogation hadn’t gone well.
“I brought lunch for you,” Adam said, standing up, “but something tells me you’re not hungry either right now.”
“Actually, I’m not. I need to talk to you, Bree.”
“Okay.” She unsuccessfully tried to push back the alarm that had settled in her stomach.
Jack sat down across from her. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m going to just spit it out. Have you ever heard of a man named Charles Ramsey?”
Charles Ramsey.
Aubrey felt the air whoosh out of her lungs as Jack held up a driver’s license on his phone. The room started spinning, and a wave of nausea swept through her. All this time she’d wanted to believe that she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but not now. She swallowed hard, wanting to ignore Jack’s clear implications. This couldn’t have anything to do with him. It was all some mistake. The FBI wasn’t looking for her father. There had to be more than one Charles Ramsey in the world.
Except the picture was of him. She stared at the photo. He’d aged since she’d seen him last. His hair had turned white and receded, and he’d lost weight, leaving a hollowness in his eyes. She almost didn’t recognize him, but there was enough of the man she remembered in the photo to know it was him.
She felt her hands begin to shake. For a second, she was back at her ballet recital, waiting impatiently for her father to show up, then pretending she wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t. The memories were few and scattered over the years, always filled with disappointment and sadness. Always leaving her feeling like a child with a piece of her heart missing.
Jack dropped his phone back in his pocket and took her hands, trying to steady her. She bit her lip.
“Charles Ramsey’s my father,” she said. “Though something tells me you already knew that.”
He squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry. I just needed to confirm it. I thought your father’s name was Charlie, but you have a different last name.”
“My mom changed her name back to Grayson after their divorce. Mine as well. That was before I knew you.” She blinked back the tears threatening to erupt. “But I still don’t understand. How does what happened today have anything to do with my father? What did Hwang say to you?”
“Your father’s been on the watch list of the FBI for over eighteen months, and recently we tracked him here, but until now, I didn’t know his real name.”
“I thought you were here for Hwang?”
“Your father is involved as well.”
“Wait a minute . . .” She looked up and caught his gaze. “Before you went in to question Hwang, you told me he’s a spy.”
“Yes.”
“And you believe my father is involved? That he’s some kind of spy as well?”
“Yes, I do.”
She shook her head, still trying to process everything he was telling her. Though maybe it shouldn’t surprise her. Not really. Hadn’t her father spent his life selling out people he loved—or at least claimed he loved? Why would he pass up the opportunity to get paid for it?
Still . . .
She pulled her hands away from him, stood up, and started pacing the short aisle. “My father has done a lot of unscrupulous things, but I’m having a hard time believing we’re talking about the same person. Adultery doesn’t exactly equal selling government secrets. And betraying his country . . . I don’t want to think he’d do something like that, no matter what I think about him personally.”
“What do you know about him?”
She let her mind reach back into a place she didn’t want to go. “I know he spent most of his career in military intelligence. He retired five, maybe six years ago. He remarried, though they’ve now divorced.” She drew in a slow breath, knowing she was going to have to shove aside any personal feelings she had at the moment in order to look at the situation objectively. “What do you know about him?”
“All we know so far is that his code name is Junco, which interestingly enough is one of the most common birds in North America.”
“His job was to blend in,” Adam said, stepping into the conversation.
“Exactly. We have evidence that he’s sold thousands of classified documents that he gained access to while he was still working for the government, as well as ones he’s managed to procure more recently since his retirement.”
“What kind of documents?” Adam asked.
“Weapons technology, counterintelligence . . . whatever he could get his hands on.”
“You’re talking about treason,” she said, not even trying to identify her emotions at the moment. She’d deal with them later.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m struggling to process all of this, but my biggest question is, why would they come after me?”
“According to Hwang, they needed leverage. He told me there was a problem with some of the intel your father recently sold to the Chinese, but they haven’t been able to get him to meet with them to discuss it.”
“So Papps was the one in the way, and I was the leverage.”
“Exactly.”
“Here’s the problem.” Aubrey turned to face them. “My father’s been out of my life for years. I can hardly believe that my being captured would bring him out into the open. There are no real ties between us, and there haven’t been for years.”
For the most part.
“That might be true, but what if they don’t know that?” Jack said. “All they know is that you’re his daughter.”
“It makes sense, Aubrey,” Adam said.
“I know. It’s just hard to process.”
“How often did you see him?”
She didn’t want to go there. Back to a past that was filled with hurts and disappointments. It was a place she rarely visited, because it always managed to break her shattered child’s heart all over again. She sat back down and pushed the thought away as she drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. She was looking at this all wrong. That wasn’t who she was anymore. And if she forgot that, she was only letting him control her. That wasn’t going to happen.
She worked to pull herself out of the equation to look at the situation like an outsider. Just the facts. No emotion. She had a lot of practice with that. A lot of practice with people she loved walking out of her life. She glanced at Jack, then shook off the familiar pain that passed over her. Jack was different. And besides, their relationship wasn’t the one in the spotlight right now.
“Every couple years he’d show up on my birthday or on Christmas, but beyond that there wasn’t a lot of communication between the two of us. Once I was in high school, I rarely saw him.”
“Did you ever meet him?” Adam asked Jack.
“Once. He showed up at one of my senior basketball games, then took us out for pizza afterward.” Jack caught her gaze. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Two . . . maybe three years ago, and that was only because he had a question about a baseball card of his he thought I might have. We don’t keep in touch.” She forced the memories to resurface. “I know he started his own security company. Remarried a few years ago. I heard she ended up leaving him, but like I said . . . we don’t really keep in touch. I’m not even sure where he lives.”
“We’re going to figure this out, Bree, but I’m going to need your help.”
“You know I’ll do anything.”
“I’ll need to ask you some more detailed questions about your father. I’m hoping you’ll be able to help us track him, but I’d rather do it at the FBI office.”
She nodded. “Adam told me you were going to take me there.”
“I’ve arranged a driver to pick you up downstairs in about fifteen minutes,” Adam said.
“I really don’t need the escort, Jack. I’m sure you have a million other things to do.”
“Then do it to humor me,” Jack said.
Ten minutes later the two of them headed down the hospital corridor toward the car Adam had arranged. Everything about today had left her feeling off-balance. She was used to being a protector, not the victim, and the uncomfortable switch had thrown her off. But she wasn’t going to let feelings of vulnerability take root.
She followed Jack into the elevator, then watched as he pushed the button for the hospital basement. “I’m guessing you chose the basement because it’s the most direct route?”
“Are you kidding? I chose it for the scenery.”
She laughed at his comeback as the elevator doors slid closed, realizing how much she’d missed that humor. On the basement level, the dingy hallway smelled of chemicals and antiseptic. Footsteps echoed down the hallway as a woman in scrubs slipped through a doorway. Aubrey automatically checked for her side arm, then remembered she didn’t have it.
“I’m not sure I like the scenery down here.”
“All of this is simply a precaution, but I don’t plan to take any chances until we know what’s going on. You’re one of our main witnesses, so you’ve just become valuable to both sides, including the FBI.” He turned at another long, narrow hallway. “There’s a curbside exit down by the morgue not too far ahead, where our driver is waiting.”
She quickened her pace. Trusting him wasn’t the issue. If she were honest with herself, it was her being forced to dredge up the past that was leaving her feeling exposed.
“So how long have you been a detective?” Jack’s question pulled her back into the present.
“Eight months and counting.”
“You like it?”
“It’s hard work, but I feel like I’m doing what I was made to do.”
“I remember you always talked about going into law enforcement.”
“I think that’s why this morning shook me up so much. I’m not used to being on the other side of a case.”
“That’s not the only reason you’re so shook up. I told you, you can’t just brush this off. You watched someone you love get shot. That’s enough to rattle even the most veteran officer.”
He was right, but now wasn’t the time to worry about her mental health. She planned to do anything she could to make sure they found whoever was behind the shooting. Which meant she was going to have to be involved, no matter how she was feeling.
Footsteps on the tiled floor echoed behind them. A shiver slid through her. She was being paranoid, which wasn’t like her. She turned around. Two men hurried toward them, both carrying side arms.
“Two men with guns at our six,” she said quietly to Jack.
“I have a feeling this is about to get ugly. Stay behind me.”
Jack turned around, his weapon drawn. “FBI—weapons on the ground and hands in the air. Now!”
A woman wearing scrubs stepped out into the hallway, momentarily shifting Aubrey’s attention.
“Bree, get her inside!”
One of the men fired off a shot. The bullet slammed against the wall beside them as Aubrey grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her into the nearest room. A man and another woman wearing scrubs stood over a body bag, staring at them. Frustration snapped through her as she glanced around the morgue. Rows of metal cabinets lined one of the gray walls. Four body bags lay on metal tables. She needed to get the three of them to safety so they didn’t end up in body bags too.
If the gunman entered the room, there would be nowhere to hide. A bullet would slice through the metal tables. She should have insisted someone bring her her side arm before they left.
“I’m Detective Aubrey Grayson. Is there another way out of this room?”
“There’s a walk-in cooler.” The man pointed behind him.
She made a snap decision. “Get in there now.”
The second woman stood immobile next to the body.
Aubrey ran toward her. “Go, go, go!”