JACK STEPPED OUT ONTO the large brick veranda that surrounded the swimming pool with a tray holding a pot of hot tea, a couple of mugs, and a plate of lemon bars. He’d seen the fatigue in Bree’s eyes and hoped he could convince her to go upstairs and take a nap. They’d decided that the senator’s two-story house was the safest location at the moment with its walled yard and built-in security system. A couple of plainclothes officers outside the front gate added another layer of protection. He had asked for the most seasoned officers because until he had a grasp on the situation, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
The seven-bedroom house looming above him was impressive with its cathedral ceilings, grand foyer, and stunning waterfront view of the bay. But even the added security of the property clearly wasn’t enough to settle Bree’s nerves.
Bree stood against the metal railing surrounding the pool, staring out across the bay. Until this moment, she hadn’t had a chance to process everything that had happened the last few hours. And once she did, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
Jack filled a mug. “I brought you some tea and lemon bars.”
The only response was the sound of the wind blowing through the palm trees edging the property.
“Bree?”
She turned around and faced him before crossing the veranda and sitting down in one of the deck chairs. “Sorry. I know I’m distracted. I’m just trying to figure all this out. I’m having a hard time taking everything in.”
He sat in the chair next to hers. “I don’t blame you for being distracted. All of this has to be a lot to process.” He slid the mug of hot tea in front of her. “It’s chamomile. It’s supposed to have a calming effect.”
“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and took a sip. “What’s the latest update on the guys from the hospital basement?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing yet, but there’s a BOLO out on them.”
She took another sip, then set her mug down. “I’ve made a list of all the phone numbers and email addresses I have for my father for you. I’ve tried calling and left messages for him, telling him I need to speak to him, but so far I haven’t got any response.”
“That’s a good start.”
“I’m also trying to figure out the complex web my father’s got himself tangled up in. I don’t know how the spy game works, but do you think he knows they’re after me? Do you think they’ve told him?”
“We have no way of knowing. We were able to get a bit more out of Hwang. Hwang said your father promised his Chinese handler a piece of intel worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. But if he turned around and betrayed them, either by reneging or giving them false information, they wouldn’t be happy.”
She nodded as Jack continued.
“We’re going to find the truth, but like I said, it’s a lot to process. Give yourself some grace. This isn’t just another case you’re trying to solve. This hits close to home.”
“Way too close. Ryan called me a few minutes ago. He told me they’re keeping Papps in ICU overnight, but he’s still stable.”
“He’s in good hands.”
“I know.” She fiddled with the zipper on the end of her jacket and stared across the table past him, toward the bay. “It seems strange that I have more memories of Papps than my own father.”
He sat back in his chair, waiting for her to continue at her own pace. Healing what had already happened was going to take time, and yet he knew that this was far from over.
“I remember him taking my mother and me to the opening of Whataburger Field. I was so excited I hardly slept the night before. I was worried he wouldn’t show up, but he did. I’m sure I drove him crazy. The field was spectacular, and seeing the Lexington and the aquarium from the stadium was amazing. I loved baseball, though I’m not sure how much of the game I saw. I remember eating burgers and ice cream until I was almost sick. The best part was that my parents were both sitting beside me. For those few hours we were a family and everything was right in the world. And then the next day, he was gone. I didn’t see him again for months, or even hear from him other than a couple postcards. I always knew deep down that the fun we had that night wouldn’t last, but for the moment—for that one night—everything was perfect.”
Jack caught the sadness in her voice. She’d grown up since that night at the ballfield, but he knew there would always be regret for what she’d missed. Part of him wished he could whisk her away from all of this, so she didn’t have to deal with it, but as hard as it was—if they were going to find her father—they needed her. But first he wanted her to rest.
“What do you need from me right now?” she asked.
“Right now? I want you to go lie down for a couple hours. When you get up, we’ll order some dinner, then you can help us work on a plan.”
She shook her head. “I need to find out the truth of what’s going on. I can sleep later.”
Jack sighed. He’d known it was a long shot. “Okay . . . then tell me more about your father.” He leaned forward, not wanting to push her, but she was right about one thing. They needed answers, and at the moment she was their best lead. “Anything you can think of, no matter how obscure, might help. Anything that would help me understand how he thinks and acts and how he might respond to this situation.”
She picked up her mug and held it in her cupped hands. He could read the mixture of sadness and frustration in her eyes. He knew she wanted to help, but there had to be a measure of guilt running through her, because no matter what he’d done, Charles Ramsey was still her father. And what he was asking her to do was help him bring the man in. Which meant his job was to walk the fine line between being an agent and being a friend.
“I know this is hard to talk about, Bree.”
“Our relationship is . . . complicated. Mainly because he hasn’t been a part of my world for a long time. To be honest, he never has been a part of it.” She put her mug down, then pressed her palms against the table as she formulated her words. “Maybe this doesn’t make sense, but as strained as our relationship has always been, I still don’t want to believe he would do something like this. It just seems like some bad movie. In the span of a few hours, I found out that my father is a spy and a traitor. It’s just . . . it’s going to take time for all of this to sink in.”
He appreciated her focus and willingness to move forward even though he knew it was difficult. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to him for a couple years. I’m not even sure where he lives anymore. I’ve got an address, but it’s probably not up-to-date. I have a feeling that your FBI file will have more information than I do.”
“That’s okay. Just tell me what you do know.”
She sighed as she worked to dredge up memories he knew she’d rather forget. “I know he was in the military and that he worked in intelligence after he got out. Not long after he turned fifty, he went through some sort of midlife crisis. He divorced my mom and a few years later ended up marrying a girl half his age. By that time I was nineteen. She was twenty-nine. He traveled the world for a few months with his new wife, then he started some tech business. After he divorced my mom, I rarely saw him. He never demanded visitation rights, never seemed to want a relationship with me, though he always paid his child support on time. All of which was fine with me. I preferred to live with my mom than one of his girlfriends or later his wife.”
“You said his second marriage ended in divorce also,” Jack said. “How long did it last?”
“Five . . . maybe six years. That was the point where a lot of things fell apart for him. After he lost Rachel, his business started failing.”
“Did you ever hear from him?”
“He typically sent me postcards a couple times a year, mainly from when he traveled overseas. I tried to respond for a while, to keep in touch, but after my mother died, the connection between us dissolved, and eventually I decided there was nothing left for me to give.”
“And where did the senator and his wife come in?”
“They were always like surrogate parents to me. They made sure I had a place to go for holidays, both me and my mother. Never missed a birthday or an important holiday, and then there was duck hunting and fishing. Papps taught me clay pigeon shooting and how to tie fishing lines to a hook while Gail taught me how to make pies and macaroons. But the best thing he did was treat me like a part of his family.”
“You needed that.”
Bree smiled for the first time. “I did. I was hungry for attention and a father figure, and that’s what he gave me.”
“Now I know why you were always so multitalented.” He studied her body language, pleased that she was finally starting to relax. “How did you meet them?”
“Believe it or not, he and my dad were best friends in college. It’s hard to believe how different they are today. I think my father became resentful of my relationship with Papps and his family.”
“Does your father have any other relatives still alive? Siblings? Parents?”
“No siblings, though there are a few cousins I’ve never met. My grandmother, his mother, is still alive.”
“I remember you talking about her. Where is she now?”
“In a nursing home in San Antonio. She’s the one person in his family I’ve ever been close to. Or at least was close to. She has Alzheimer’s now, and most of the time she doesn’t even recognize me. But she was a wonderful woman who’d be horrified to know what her son has done. I don’t even think she remembers my parents divorced.”
“I’m sorry. I know from experience with my own grandfather how hard that is. When’s the last time you saw her?”
“Last month. I try to visit her as often as I can get away from work.”
“So sometimes she remembers you?”
“It depends on the day, but most days she’s lost in the past. The only good thing is that she’s always her same sweet self I remember from when I was growing up.” Bree drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Nana is so different from my father. She worked hard her whole life and yet she always had time for me. She knew how to make me laugh, made the best chicken and dumplings, and loved sending me handwritten letters all through college.”
“What is your father’s relationship like with your grandmother?”
“I have a feeling he doesn’t go very often, which is sad. She loved him fiercely despite his neglect. She’s always had a place for my mom and me in her life.”
Jack studied her while she spoke, struck—not for the first time—by how one person’s actions could affect so many people. Both positively and negatively. In this case, how one father’s selfishness destroyed a family and left the daughter to be raised by a single mom. Charles Ramsey had taken off and apparently never looked back.
“I have a question,” she said. “You know how all this works better than I do. Why would my father have been recruited in the first place? He had contacts, but it’s been a while since he retired from government work.”
“It’s not an unusual approach. They look for people struggling financially, or who worked with contractors or are currently working as a contractor with connections in intelligence circles.”
He wished there was a way he could take her out of the equation, but even if he could somehow do that, he knew she wouldn’t want him to.
She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “Ever since he walked out on my mother and me, I’ve thought he didn’t love me enough. But now . . . now I wonder if he was trying to protect me in his own misguided way by staying out of my life, though maybe that’s just what my heart wants to believe.”
“So if he knew that the FBI was after him—along with the Chinese—where would he go?” Jack asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t narrow it down, but I would think close enough to be able to keep an eye on things and still be in control, and yet far enough away so no one could easily find him.”
“Then let’s start there. Everyone has habits. That place of familiarity. What was familiar to him?”
“He’d avoid the familiar, but that was his way. He loved visiting new places. I told you he used to send me postcards when he traveled. I remember daydreaming about how one day he’d invite me to come with him on one of his trips. We’d travel to Berlin, Morocco, Paris, and Beijing. But of course that never happened.”
“So you think he’d head somewhere unfamiliar.”
“I think so.” She tapped her finger on her lips. “I remember once, when I was about fourteen, he told me he planned to retire somewhere like Belize or Ecuador.”
“If he had the correct paperwork and enough cash, that would be the perfect place to disappear.”
“What if he’s already left?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. I think there’s something else he needs from the Chinese. I think if he’d gotten it from them, he’d have left a long time ago.”
“Money.”
“Exactly. Enough to disappear for the rest of his life.” Jack tried to put himself in the man’s shoes in an attempt to figure out what he would do. “What about a weakness?”
Bree hesitated before answering. “My grandmother. If he is planning to disappear, he’d want to tell her goodbye.”
“Even if she doesn’t know who he is?”
“I think so.”
Jack scooted back his chair, a plan of action finally starting to form in his mind. “We need to call the assisted living home where she is and instruct them to tell us immediately if your father stops by. We can put the local authorities on alert as well.”
“I can do that,” Bree said. “What else?”
“I’ve got something.” Adam walked up to their table. “I just received a call from local PD. Your father was just spotted here in Corpus.”