Heavy Artillery Husband (4 page)

BOOK: Heavy Artillery Husband
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“Yes. I did a background search on him.” While Frank respected Victoria Colby-Camp and her agency, this was his baby girl's life on the line. “I sent him a death threat today.”

“You did
what
?”

“Well, I sent it to him, but it was aimed specifically at Frankie,” he clarified, realizing too late he'd only made things worse. “I wanted them on alert. I couldn't blurt out what was really going on. I needed them to react quickly, not ask questions.”

“Oh, Lord.” Her expressive eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Here I was, trying to figure out how to clue her in that you're alive and that we might need her help.”

“We can't do that. We can't tell her anything.” Panic snapped and clawed at his heart. “The more she knows about me, the more danger she's in.”

Sophia's sound of frustration mimicked an unhappy grizzly bear. “If I don't kill you before this is over, she will. Trust me on that.”

“I deserve it,” he said through another wave of anguish. “But if I don't stop them—”

She held up a hand. “I can fill in the blank.” She massaged the lobes of her ears around her earrings. “The treason charge,” she began. “Did you knowingly send that team in Kabul to their deaths?”

That she could even think it of him stopped his heart more effectively than the drug he'd used to fake his death. Still, in light of everything, it was a fair question. “I did not.” It had been such a sharp edge he'd been walking and he thought he'd done everything possible to make sure only he would or could be injured. A tactic that left him with no allies when the plan backfired. He'd been too new, hadn't known the real players within Hellfire or the full measure of their greed.

Now he did, and he needed to give his wife and daughter the best protection. “I know you don't owe me anything,
dolcezza
. Not your understanding and certainly not your forgiveness.”

“Be quiet. I'm thinking of our next step.”

“Our?” he echoed, staring at her. “No way.”

“You need me,” she countered.

He did need her. Desperately. When this was over, maybe they could talk about just how badly he needed her. Assuming he lived through the fight Hellfire would present. “What I need most is to know you're tucked away safely out of Hellfire's reach.”

“Is there such a place?”

He didn't say yes fast enough.

“Then we'll do this together,” she declared. She stood, the ghost of a smile tipping her lush mouth.

“Absolutely not,” he said. He wanted to keep her as far from the chaos as possible. He'd often fantasized about a reunion when the coast was clear. Coming home to Sophia had always been the best part of fulfilling his military responsibilities. Someday this mess with Hellfire would be behind them and, if she gave him a chance, he'd never leave her again.

“Look where you've wound up working alone!” She switched to Italian, indulging in a fiery rant that called into question his intelligence and sanity. “I have contacts and resources. You need my help.”

“You think the two of us can do what the CID couldn't?”

“Yes.” Her eyes glittered, daring him to contradict her. “As a team,” she said pointedly. “We
were
unstoppable. They have regulations and systems. We have a dead man with good intel and a reputable woman with excellent connections.”

He knew that look. In full protective mode, she wouldn't back down, even if it was for her own good. He reconsidered his strategy. “Since we're in Chicago,” he said, “why don't we ask if you can work your connections from Victoria's offices?” The Colby Agency could keep Sophia safe while he went after Hellfire personally.

“Just me?” she asked too sweetly.

Naturally she saw straight through him. “Standard protocol,” he said, defending the suggestion. “You in the office, me in the field.”

She tossed her head. “I will
not
let you out of my sight. Our daughter would never forgive me if something happened to you...
again
.”

“She already thinks I'm dead. I refuse to take the chance of making her an orphan for real. I don't want her to know anything until this is done.”

She pinned him with a wicked glare. “Were you this melodramatic during official briefings?”

“The lives of my wife and daughter weren't on the line in my official briefings,” he said, thoroughly exasperated with her insurmountable stubborn streak. “Haven't you been listening to me?” He'd spent more than twenty years commanding troops, so how was it he had so much trouble with this one woman?

“I have been listening very closely. The only real point you've made is that you need my help.”

He scrubbed at the back of his neck. How could he have believed she would listen to reason? He needed help, yes, and he'd count her an excellent ally—from the safety of an office surrounded by armed experts. Putting her in the line of fire was taking an unforgivable chance. Not to mention how keeping her close would be torture. Already her familiar lily-and-sandalwood fragrance seeped into his system, giving him more comfort than he deserved. “You can help me—from a safe distance.”

“Frank, be reasonable. You need someone at your back.”

“Victoria would agree with me,” he countered. As arguments went, it was too weak and they both knew it.

Her gaze sharpened. Her keen mind was working through his protests to the crux of the problem. “You're holding back a significant factor here. Who is it, Frank? Who's at the top of Hellfire?”

Furious at himself more than anyone at how he'd been fooled and used, he studied the pattern in the carpeting. He met her gaze, at last. “Kelly Halloran is the top man.”

The blood drained from her face, turning her vibrant golden skin to ash. “Sit down,” he said, moving to catch her. She slumped to the edge of the couch, her shoulders hunching as if she could physically block the news. He understood her reaction.

“Why?” she whispered. She sucked in a breath, eased away from him and tried again. “We've known him forever. We know his children. His wife and I were once close friends.” She rubbed her hand over her heart. “They were at our wedding. They brought me flowers when Frankie was born. Our kids played together. He held me when I learned you were...dead.”

All the more reason Frank wanted to see that bastard go down. The few inches of space her retreat created left an icy chill on his skin. “This isn't a quick, fly-by-night operation. It's been developing for a long time. So far I haven't figured out what pushed Halloran over the edge.”

She bit her lip. “You believe he'd willfully hurt our daughter?”

Frank nodded. “The man he is today? Yes. He'd give that order.” He waited for it to dawn on Sophia that their old friend had issued her death order earlier today.

“Oh.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I could be sick.”

He'd felt the same way. “Please don't ask me to make it easier on him by letting you come with me. This is guaranteed to turn ugly, fast.”

“It's already ugly,” she said, her voice tight. “Kelly Halloran ordered my execution to scare you into silence,” she mused. “The bastard.” When she met his gaze, her eyes were clear, her determination shining. “You can't expect me to sit back and watch him run you in circles.”

“If that's your idea of encouragement, I don't need any more,” he said.

She spread her palms across her knees. “Talk me through everything you have so far and then I'll decide if I can best help from a safe distance or right beside you.”

“Now you're in charge?” He wanted to leap on the idea of having an ally, of having her beside him again. If only they weren't going up against a man who knew them both all too well.

“One of us should be.” Standing, she crossed the room to her suitcase, pulling out her laptop. “Come on. Catch me up.” She rolled her hand, urging him to fill her in while she plugged in the computer.

He marveled at her resilience. He always had. They'd said “for better or worse” on their wedding day and lived it every day since. Until he'd shut her out. She made a good point. So far, going solo had only netted him one easily replaced shipment of drugs. Hardly enough to snare Halloran or put an end to a system as established as Hellfire.

“All right,” he said at last. “But I won't be convinced that you should be doing any fieldwork.”

Her mouth curved in a smirk. “You will be.”

Somehow he was afraid she could be right.

Chapter Four

Breathing in slow and deep, Sophia didn't sit down again until she was sure her stomach wouldn't embarrass her. “Kelly Halloran,” she said. Her anger with Frank shifted abruptly to a new target. It was hard to picture one of their oldest and dearest friends orchestrating such an elaborate criminal network, complete with a sniper aiming at her head. “When we find him, I want the first shot.”

“I won't let you kill him,” Frank countered. “His sorry life isn't worth spending a single day of yours in prison.”

She turned at the wariness in his voice. “I didn't mean with a gun. I don't want to kill him. I want to scratch his eyes out, maybe break a rib or two or blow out his knee.” Her body hummed with the need to do violence. “He threatened to kill our daughter.” The idea of it shocked her almost as much as Frank standing here alive and well. “When I'm done with him, I want him to rot in a dark, slimy little hole for the rest of his days.”

Frank gave a low whistle. “Guess I'm lucky you haven't torn me apart.”

“The night is still young.” She sent him a glance full of warning. “If I were you, I wouldn't bring up your grand scheme to tuck me safely away again.”

“Duly noted.”

“Good. Keep talking and let's see what we can come up with.”

She logged on to the internet via the hotel connection and created a new online persona for tonight's research. Assuming Halloran had technical experts with credentials equivalent to those of his renowned assassin, she didn't want to tip them off too soon. Behind her she heard Frank resume his pacing.

Hearing those footfalls made her smile. Pacing hadn't been his habit until after Frankie was born. He'd spent many nights walking up and down the hallways to help her sleep when she was a baby. All these years later, his body went through the soothing motions automatically. She doubted he even noticed.

“We can't go directly at Halloran,” he said. “I've tried. That's why I went after the drugs.”

She sat back on her heels, nearly afraid to ask. “What do you know about him?”

“His current address is a place outside Phoenix, one of those golf communities tucked behind an elaborate gate and rent-a-cop security.”

She brought up an overview image of the area, waiting for him to continue.

“He's insulated,” Frank said. “I've been thinking if we could pin down one of the others, someone close to the top, we could force them to roll over on Halloran.”

She thought through that approach and dismissed it. “We can see about that if we can find a chink in Hellfire's armor.” She pursed her lips. “You said the money goes through a bank in the Caymans. Have you tried following that trail? If we put that kind of information into the right hands, it could make a difference.”

“Unless Halloran believes any information leaks come from his own men, he'll know it's me and he'll move to kill Frankie. Is there any way you can urge her to take a vacation?”

Sophia shook her head. “Not without a good explanation. With Paul in prison and me out of the office, she and Aidan need to be present and visible at Leo Solutions.”

Frank grumbled his displeasure. Hiding and waiting only gave their enemy more power.

“Tell me about your Cayman account.”

“The money isn't there,” he said. “They redistributed the cash after I was ousted.”

“Do you remember any details?”

He gave her the bank, account number and online log-in information. Within a few minutes, she had the full account history, though the current balance was zero. “They made regular deposits,” she observed, noting the dates in a new document for further research later. “I know it's been a long time, but do these deposit dates correspond to any actions that you're aware of?”

He pulled up a chair and they talked through what he remembered about that time, matching what he'd seen overseas with what she was seeing in the bank history. She wasn't sure it would be enough, even if she could get it into the right hands.

“Well, they certainly wouldn't have made deposits only to your account on those days. Gotta love the precision and habits of military men.” She made a few more notes as she went along. There were other people—friends in the intelligence and media communities—she could approach if necessary. “Based on these numbers, I can see why Halloran's crew has been so loyal. Getting one of them to roll on him will be a long shot.”

“I'm trying to find the right pressure point,” Frank said. He laced his fingers behind his head and stretched his neck. Another rush of need to touch and soothe him startled her. It had always been so easy to reach out and offer him comfort and support.

It didn't feel right to hold all that in. It didn't feel right to approach him, either. She tamped down the uncertainty. This wasn't her first uncomfortable classified meeting. Her feelings could wait until they'd accomplished the current “mission.”

And then what? She had no idea.

“Do you know if he's threatened the families of the others in the group?” She couldn't quite reconcile the friendly Kelly Halloran she remembered with this uncaring criminal. She hadn't missed Frank's refusal to give her the other names of those involved. “Money can't be the only hold he has over them.”

“Money can be a big incentive. Any secrets or crimes they committed are long buried.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She kicked off her shoes, getting comfortable. She was tempted to launch an immediate search into Halloran and stopped herself just in time. The resources at Leo Solutions would make this easier, but she wasn't ready to log in and risk leaving such an obvious trail for Halloran. By now he knew his attack on her had missed and he'd be waiting for some reaction.

“From what you've said, we can't beat them by just interfering with their pipeline. Manipulating the money could work. If we can find a way to tie up their cash—”

“I'm not letting you do anything remotely criminal,” he said, scowling at her.

“But it's okay for you to steal drugs and who knows what else?”

He shrugged a shoulder, his blue gaze sliding back to the laptop monitor. “I'm officially dead,” he pointed out. “My real name and reputation can't get any worse.”

She wanted to shake him. He couldn't have just given up on everything, could he? The best possible outcome here was to restore his name and reputation so he could reclaim his life as a husband and father, as a friend and partner. Already, she could see Frankie's delighted face when she learned her father was alive, healthy and not a convicted traitor.

But could he be her husband again? Sophia's throat attempted to close. Could she be his wife? So much hurt stood between them.

“We could notify the authorities about the next incoming shipment,” she said.

Frank's scowl deepened and he covered his eyes. “Based on the schedule, there should be a shipment coming into Seattle in a few days. Which is another reason I think he's targeted you and Frankie. He can't take the chance I'd ask you for help.” He leaned forward and tapped his fingers together. “He knows I'm alive and that I know his system.”

“And he knows you have his drugs.”

“He's behaving as if that's irrelevant,” Frank said, clearly troubled by the fact. “He removes the only person who can vouch for me. Then he sits on you and Frankie, issues a kill order, knowing I'll show up.”

“Which you did.” Thank heaven. She forced her thoughts away from what might have happened if Frank hadn't been so diligent. It took more effort to keep from reaching for her phone to call and check on her daughter.

“His hired gun didn't work very hard to kill either of us.” Frank stood up and resumed his pacing. “It's the strangest game of cat and mouse I've ever played and the stakes are too high.”

She agreed completely. “You said you've identified the top players. Let's start at the bottom and work our way up.”

“Divide and conquer?” He faced her, his dark eyebrows knitting over those clever blue eyes.

“It's a valid strategy for a reason.” She smiled, aiming it at the screen rather than her husband. “There has to be a weak link within Hellfire. Start talking,” she said, ignoring the clock in the corner of her monitor. They couldn't stay here indefinitely and, based on the signs of tension radiating from Frank, he was at the end of his rope. Though he might not be ready to admit it, he needed her—or someone—to help him put an end to this nightmare.

Frank turned the chair around and straddled it, bracing his arms along the top rail. “I backed up my handwritten notes to a cloud server.”

She brought up the website and he gave her the username and password as if they were random, but her fingers stuttered in recognition. He'd used the day and date of her first miscarriage for those fields. No one even knew about that except the two of them. She hadn't been far enough along to share the news yet.

She told herself to say something and couldn't find sufficient words. If a single shred of doubt had existed inside her that this man was her husband, it was gone now.

“I've been tracking movements and making connections for months,” he said as if she hadn't noticed. “If this was my pet project, Darren Lowry would worry me most. He was on Halloran's staff for a few years.”

“Go on,” she encouraged as she opened another tab and typed the name into her search engine. As Frank gave her the details he knew about Lowry's background, Sophia's determination firmed.

This would be so much easier with the assets at the office, but she couldn't think about that yet. Much as Halloran had pulled Frank out of hiding, she wanted to draw any confrontation away from Seattle and their daughter.

“Is this the same Lowry, retired four years ago? This report has a Darren Lowry under investigation for sexual misconduct in Iraq on his second tour.” She leaned to the side to give Frank a better look at the pictures she'd brought up on the screen.

“Same guy,” Frank confirmed. “Maybe the charges were fabricated against him, too.”

Sophia's lip curled and her mouth went dry as she read through the report. She kept digging, using Frank's information and online sources. She found a current address and the press release when Lowry had been hired by a defense contractor based in Washington, DC, after retiring from the army.

“Could I have some water please?” She didn't want Frank nearby when she logged in to an administrative email account for a law firm website in DC. Leo Solutions had handled the security for one of her oldest friends when he transitioned to private practice after fulfilling his military commitment in the army's Judge Advocate General's Corps. She wasn't doing anything particularly illegal, though Frank wouldn't be happy. Assuming her friend was in town and Frank cooperated, she could follow up tonight's discreet inquiry in person tomorrow.

She accepted the glass of water from Frank and chose her next words carefully. “I have a friend in DC who can give us some guidance about how to exploit that old complaint against Lowry,” she said, tracing the rim of the water glass. “I'm thinking we cast an ugly spotlight on the skeletons in his closet and make the old fogies of Hellfire sweat a little. It's a fair response to what happened near Parkhurst today.”

He sat down across from her, his intense gaze holding hers. “You want Halloran to know we can get to his people, too.”

“Exactly.”

She struggled to keep her mind on point while her eyes devoured the face that had meant so much to her for more than half of her life. She remembered how those laugh lines had added character to his face, year after year. Anger, raw and cold, surged through her veins. If Halloran hadn't upped the stakes, would Frank have kept tabs on her at all? Would he have watched her grow old from a distance, without ever allowing her to know he was out there?

Something that resembled dismay flickered across his face. “You're angry.”

Of course he could read her changing expressions. He'd always been too good at that. “It comes in waves,” she admitted. She dismissed it with a flick of her fingers. Throwing a tantrum wouldn't help either of them. If they successfully dismantled Hellfire, she could be mad at Frank personally for the rest of her life. “Lowry first,” she said through gritted teeth.

He bobbed his chin slowly as if uncertain about agreeing with her. “What do you hope to get out of your contact in DC?”

“I won't know for sure until I get there,” she hedged while she opened more searches, this time exploring the contractor who had hired Lowry.

“You mean you don't intend to tell me.”

“Can you blame me?” She tucked her hands under her legs, squashing the urge to throw something at him. “After what you've described, we need more intel to involve the authorities and take down Halloran the right way. I want him to rot in prison, not slip through the system to lounge about on a sunny island beach.”

“I want him to rot, too,” Frank said.

She knew that tone. “Not six feet under,” she said briskly. “If I can't kill him, neither can you. The bastard isn't worth either of us spending any time in jail.” However things worked out between them personally, she wanted to be clear on that point.

She fumed when he sat there silently studying his hands. “That was your plan?”

He opened his mouth, but she cut off his reply. “It would be fine if you killed him because you were already dead and out of our lives?” she demanded. Furious, she clamped her lips together before she said something too terrible to retract. “I must question your logic,” she managed.

“If Halloran is dead, he can't give an order to hurt you or Frankie.”

“Funny. You were dead and that hurt us plenty.”

He reeled back as if she'd slapped him. She would not regret it. The harsh words needed to be said. “We're going to DC, Frank.”

BOOK: Heavy Artillery Husband
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