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Covert Christmas Twin
Heather Woodhaven
To save her sister, she’ll need to become her The Twins Separated at Birth series continues After discovering she’s a twin, FBI Special Agent Kendra Parker tracks down her birth mother—and faces a barrage of bullets. Now armed with the knowledge that her mother’s a spy, Kendra must go undercover as her sister to protect her family. But can she and FBI Analyst Joe Rose expose a government mole…before they all end up dead?
To save her sister, she’ll need to become her
The Twins Separated at Birth series continues
After discovering she’s a twin, FBI special agent Kendra Parker tracks down her birth mother—and faces a barrage of bullets. Now armed with the knowledge that her mother’s a spy, Kendra must go undercover as her sister to protect her family. But can she and FBI analyst Joe Rose expose a government mole...before they all end up dead?
HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen, and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
Also By Heather Woodhaven (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Twins Separated at Birth
Undercover Twin
Covert Christmas Twin
Calculated Risk
Surviving the Storm
Code of Silence
Countdown
Texas Takedown
Tracking Secrets
Credible Threat
Protected Secrets
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Covert Christmas Twin
Heather Woodhaven
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09759-8
COVERT CHRISTMAS TWIN
В© 2019 Heather Humrichouse
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Note to Readers (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
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“I said freeze!” Kendra shouted through gritted teeth.
She tried to catch up as the man darted into the adjoining room where Joe held someone’s hands behind their back with one hand.
“Joe,” she called out. He looked up in time to see the man running his way. He whirled around, but the man struck Joe’s head with the flashlight. Joe groaned and dropped to the ground.
The man and his freed accomplice wasted no time running to the door. Kendra raised her weapon and aimed at the set of fluorescent lights. She pulled the trigger and a heartbeat later the glass rained down, but the two figures rushed past the door and disappeared. Kendra ran forward.
“Joe?” She touched his face. He was unconscious. Sometimes an impact to the head could be so intense the brain actually hits against the skull and shuts down, hopefully only for a moment.
She slid her fingers to the spot underneath his chin and lightened the pressure. Please let me find his heartbeat.
Dear Reader (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e),
I loved writing Audrey and Kendra so much it’s going to be hard to say goodbye. I hope you enjoyed their happy endings as much as I did.
Joe’s spiritual realization wasn’t planned. I had a different moment in mind for him, but I think it’s what we both needed to hear at the time. There is so much freedom that goes with acknowledging and trusting God with every area of your life. The reminder has brought an extra spring to my step.
I may not love all the traditions and preparation for the holidays as much as Audrey, but I do enjoy thinking of Christmas as a time to celebrate a successful rescue mission.
And I’m really craving one of Audrey’s gingerbread cookies right about now.
Merry Christmas,
Heather Woodhaven
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
—Proverbs 3:6
To my readers—I hope you don’t eat as many Christmas goodies while reading as I did while writing this. Though, if you want my recommendation, gingerbread men are the way to go.
Contents
Cover (#u1c25eb97-b34b-5e8d-b70d-cb092e81fffa)
Back Cover Text (#u25e3346e-0917-51d9-bcea-ebf73b12fee1)
About the Author (#u3f6e476b-a31d-560b-a02b-9a199005191a)
Booklist (#ufe6a9f0b-c6e5-51f1-8018-53fe18acde81)
Title Page (#u0984bc93-6dfd-5519-854a-fc7915b2791a)
Copyright (#u1b25f358-1ef1-5a1f-9ef7-ac0fc8d7c259)
Note to Readers
Introduction (#uf4b29e76-7b72-5226-81e6-7bbc6d447149)
Dear Reader (#u4fd3f828-bbef-5f16-ac4a-8da3541de715)
Bible Verse (#u7404d51b-9e2f-59bd-ac5f-cba3e2a34014)
Dedication (#u3f37a9fc-ac44-5bd7-8758-62ef1f0756a5)
ONE (#u43e634f1-f25e-5f90-b7ba-c2a3910eb52a)
TWO (#ub3dfdfa2-c810-5b3d-ab23-7db8710ecca9)
THREE (#u53e8488f-951d-57c9-80e5-81cd76ccab21)
FOUR (#ucfcd9a53-422d-580f-8437-d267288ce56b)
FIVE (#u2a06bf7c-3c34-5daf-af7f-43f7445252fd)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Kendra Parker reached the entrance to the lecture hall and listened to the voice reverberating through the door. She’d heard somewhere that a child would always recognize their mother’s voice, but what if she’d never heard it before? What if her birth mother had handed over Kendra and her twin to someone without a word? This professor’s voice rang strong, without much emotion, as she rattled off some historic study on behavior analysis. Kendra couldn’t detect anything in her voice alone.
Her phone felt heavy in her pocket as she itched to text Audrey, the newfound twin she’d discovered in the midst of an FBI operation gone wrong. In fact, the mission had gone so wrong, Kendra had been shot and her partner, Special Agent Lee Benson, felt it necessary for Audrey to take Kendra’s place in the deep-cover assignment. It’d been six weeks since Kendra had seen her sister return to normal life, with the odd exception of Lee’s plans to marry Audrey soon.
Kendra had used the last six weeks to track down leads in an effort to locate their mother, but now she hesitated. She left the phone untouched since it could turn out to be another dead end, and her twin was a lot more sensitive—despite being a genius PhD at Caltech—to disappointment. Instead, Kendra needed to treat this like any other FBI assignment and stifle her emotions to get the job done. No more stalling.
She hauled open the door to find the classroom set up like a theater. Only a few students gave her half glances before they returned to their laptops, typing away notes as Professor Beverly Walsh lectured without missing a beat. Kendra lowered herself into a chair five rows down, in the first open aisle seat to her left, but unlike the students, she had no interest in lifting the retractable desktop. Her interest was solely in the professor with straight blond hair—first strike, as both Kendra and Audrey had curly brown hair. The professor’s face, though, was turned away as she wrote on the blackboard:
Cluster of cues for deceit: hand touching, face touching, crossing arms, leaning away.
Kendra’s neck heated with the instinctive knowledge that someone was studying her. She turned around as if to examine her armrest, but surveyed the students in the seats around her. No one seemed to be paying her any attention.
“Together, as a cluster, these cues—” the professor tapped on the board with the chalk “—indicate deceit. Separately, they mean nothing, unless...” The professor turned. “Anyone?” Approximately in her fifties, the woman was short in stature—second strike—and shorter than Kendra, who stood a little over five foot seven. The brown pants, buttoned, burgundy cardigan and light blue scarf looked classy—third strike—and professional. Kendra didn’t recognize her own style on the professor at all.
Professor Walsh pointed at a man in the front row. The student casually lowered his hand and leaned forward. “Single cues of deceit can be accurate if a previously collected baseline indicates such.” His voice resonated with a deep and soothing timbre.
From Kendra’s diagonal viewpoint, he appeared to be in his early thirties and had thick dark hair, carefully styled, and a relaxed posture that didn’t match the crisp, blue-collared shirt peeking out from the black canvas jacket. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should know who the man was, but she couldn’t quite place him. If he turned another fifteen degrees, she’d be able to get a better look at his face.
The professor nodded as she stepped back and regarded the rest of the class. Her green eyes passed over Kendra, and both her posture and face stiffened, as if the professor had just smelled something distasteful. She settled into a neutral face a heartbeat later.
Kendra’s stomach churned. She didn’t know how, and couldn’t claim to be a behavioral analyst, but every fiber of her being felt that Beverly Walsh had recognized her. If Kendra hadn’t been watching, she very well would’ve missed it. Her mouth turned dry. She’d found her mother.
“That’s probably enough for today, so I’ll end class a bit early,” the professor said. “Consider it extra study time for your exam on Friday.” She grabbed the books and papers resting on the top of a podium and stuffed them into a leather messenger bag, then slipped out of a side door next to the blackboard.
Students rushed toward the aisle, filling the stairway leading to the public exit at the top. Kendra dodged them, fighting the stream. To her left, the student who had prompted the professor’s smile stepped down from the first row.
Kendra held back a gasp as their eyes met. She recognized the olive skin, the eyes that matched a stormy sky and the soft smile that suddenly disappeared. His name escaped her, but she knew him. There was no time for a reunion to figure out where, though. She darted across the classroom floor and out the door.
A musty hallway lit by only three fluorescent lights assaulted her sinuses and provoked the start of a tension headache. At the far end, Beverly Walsh hustled toward the exit door. “Professor,” Kendra called. She couldn’t yell out “Mom” yet. That would be too weird.
Beverly shoved the crash bar and as the door swung open, bright sunshine flooded the hallway. Then she disappeared from sight. Kendra hesitated for the briefest of seconds, second-guessing her instincts. Logically, how would Beverly know Kendra was her daughter if she hadn’t seen her since birth? Maybe there was another reason she was running away that didn’t have anything to do with adoption.
Kendra bolted forward, pumping her arms, until she burst out the door a few seconds after the professor. She squinted against the sunshine. The Florida campus was dotted with trees so thick it would be easy to hide. She didn’t spot any students so it seemed to be a rarely used exit, although it was the first Monday morning after Thanksgiving, a prime skip day.
Strands of blond hair swung out from behind a tree. The professor’s swinging hair had given away her location. Even if this woman wasn’t her mother, Kendra wasn’t used to people running away from her unless they had something to hide. She broke into a jog, and with long strides, gained on the professor.
“Get down!” a man’s voice yelled from behind.
A shot rang out from above. Bark chipped off the tree and flew into her face. Kendra held up both arms to block the flying bits of wood from hitting her eyes. She dropped to the ground, rolling behind a tree.
She popped up on one knee, facing the direction of the shot, and reached behind to pull out her own gun. The sun made it difficult to see clearly, but she spotted the shadow of a man in an open window on the top floor. A glint of reflection, most likely a scope, pointed her way.
She raised her weapon and aimed. Another bullet sounded before she could pull the trigger. She flinched, remembering all too well what it felt like for a bullet to pierce her flesh. This time, the pain never came.
The man dropped from the open window. Kendra hadn’t shot him, hadn’t had a chance to fire. She whipped her head around to prevent seeing the gunman hit the pavement, only to find the man she’d recognized in class putting away his weapon. His military stance helped the name rush to the forefront of her mind—Joe Rose, FBI behavioral analyst unit officer.
The professor appeared in her periphery, then rushed past her, toward the broken body on the ground. She bent over and searched his pockets until she pulled out the man’s phone. She pocketed it and rushed toward Kendra while beckoning Joe with her index finger. “Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.”
Her green eyes flashed as she met Kendra’s gaze. “Put away your weapon! You’ve already caused enough trouble walking into my class without warning. Would you like a sign that says, �Please kill me’?”
Beverly walked a few more steps, her gait short but unbelievably fast as she rounded another tree. She spun around. “We need to get out of sight now. This place is about to explode with people and law enforcement.”
Kendra blinked, a flood of hurt and confusion threatening to slow her down, but she rushed after Beverly as if on autopilot. Joe reached her side and pointed at a building up ahead, past another set of trees. She wanted to ask him a million questions but held her tongue. Nothing made sense. She didn’t understand enough about what had just happened to even form an educated question. They rounded another building just as sirens reached their ears.
“Someone found the body already. Great.” Beverly shook her head. “We’re on borrowed time, then. Would it have killed you to use a silencer, Joe?”
“It may surprise you to find out I don’t carry one, Beverly. I thought it’d be best to save Special Agent Parker’s life instead.” His voice remained calm and collected despite the professor’s irritated tone. He turned to Kendra and smirked as if the expression could be a form of greeting. “I’m hoping to find out why she’s here.”
“I assume Kendra’s figured out I’m her mother. She practically waved a banner back there informing everyone else, too.” Her eyes flashed but only glanced at Kendra for half a second. “Let’s hope you haven’t already put a target on your head.”
Kendra kept up the pace but felt like she’d entered some alternate universe. She shook her head and stopped abruptly. “Excuse me. Did I miss a memo? Did I black out and not hear, I don’t know, how you know who I am?” She bit out the last few words.
Beverly sighed, disappointment drenching her every feature. “Let’s get somewhere secure and then I’ll brief you.”
“Brief me?” Except Beverly had already taken off, booking it so fast she was out of earshot. Kendra turned to Joe. “Is my mo—” She almost choked on the word mother. Her brain refused to digest that she’d actually found her after all this time. Or, perhaps Kendra wasn’t sure the woman deserved the title. “Is Beverly Walsh a Fed?”
Joe shrugged, a sympathetic smile on his face. He reached for her hand and led her after the speed-walking Beverly. “I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”
In any other scenario, Joe Rose would’ve wanted to take Kendra to a coffee shop and properly catch up on their lives. But, seeing as he’d just shot a man who had tried to kill her, it was probably best to take Beverly’s lead and keep moving.
It’d been years since he’d last seen Kendra, back in their training days at the FBI Academy. Work Hard, Play Hard seemed to be her motto back then. If his analysis proved correct, it stemmed partly from an inner drive Joe couldn’t relate to and a fierce desire to prove something. To whom, he didn’t know.
The years—or perhaps the job—had taken an obvious toll on her. She looked the same—it wasn’t that—but her eyes reflected a deep weariness as well as a guarded nature he didn’t remember being there before. She looked leaner, stronger physically, yet more vulnerable. Perhaps he’d spent too much time studying lately and was reading too much into her appearance. She had, after all, just met her birth mother and narrowly avoided being killed.
Kendra tugged slightly on his hand, and only then did he realize he was still holding hers. He silently prayed for wisdom and protection, then gave her fingers a light squeeze and let go. Beverly’s speed walk could beat many runners, but she turned—a good twenty paces ahead of them—and made the universal symbol for “stop” with her hand. Joe slowed, no longer attempting to catch up. She gave him a nod of approval and disappeared around a corner. He felt certain he knew where she was headed.
“I appreciate the help, but you’re not my analyst and this isn’t a mission, so you don’t need to lead me by the hand,” Kendra said. “In fact, I don’t really understand why you’re here, so I hope you’ll explain that, as well.”
“Of course.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t intentional. I’m a pastor now. I mean, I’m transitioning to become one full-time. I’m taking steps to leave the Bureau, at least.” He cringed, trying to figure out how to back up and explain better.
She halted. “What?” Her gaze darted ahead, and she seemed to notice that Beverly had disappeared from their line of vision. “Great. I’m losing her.”
“Beverly wanted us to split up. There could be eyes watching her.” Joe stepped into a side alley. “I think she’s going to her place, her real place. She has a town house for show, but I’ve been to her actual house once. It’s probably best we go a different way to meet her.”
“I have a million questions that won’t wait and—” She placed her hands on her hips and regarded him. “Why do I have the feeling you already know what I’m going to ask?”
He took a deep breath. It felt like lying not to admit what he knew. “I found out recently about you and your twin sister, Audrey. The circumstances for you meeting Beverly today aren’t ideal, but—”
She took a step backward and bit her lip before a mask of nonchalance dropped in place. “How did you find out I have a twin? I didn’t even know until a few months ago, and ever since then, the FBI has been diligent in making sure no one else found out. So I know whatever you’re doing here with my—with Beverly—isn’t FBI-sanctioned. Why are you here, Joe?”
His recent training taught him how to handle many a delicate moment, but this discussion felt like entering an unmarked minefield. He exhaled, trying and failing to imagine what meeting Beverly had to be like for her. “You should know that even though Beverly seems like a hard woman, I know for a fact she cares more than she’d ever admit. Beyond that, answering your question right now is a little tricky. I’m not sure it’s my place to really—”
She grabbed his shoulder and turned him until they were face-to-face. “It’s about me, Joe. I think it’s my place to know. Start talking.” Her cheeks reddened slightly and she let go and took a step back. “Please. It’s not a pleasant sensation to feel like you’re the last to know who your own mother is.”
He studied her face, missing the smile that had been on her face so often back at Quantico. “Like I was trying to tell you, I’m actually in the process of resigning from the Bureau. I took an extended leave that’s about to be permanent.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why? You have a great reputation.”
“That’s nice to hear, but I found it just wasn’t for me. I came here to utilize the theology—”
Kendra placed a hand on her hip. “Joe, how many degrees do you have now?”
He collected degrees like most people did books, although he mostly stuck to the fields of psychology and sociology. “Only five. I’ve been auditing your mo—” He caught himself before saying mother. “Beverly’s classes. Actually, she was the one who made me realize I wasn’t ready to completely cut ties with the FBI. So after I tender my resignation, I’ll apply to continue with the FBI on a volunteer basis.”
“Volunteer? You can’t volunteer for the FBI.”
“As an FBI chaplain.”
She pulled her chin back and frowned. “Huh?” The sirens grew louder as the sound of revving motors got closer. She pointed to his arm. “Walk with me.”
He did as she asked. She grabbed his hand with her right and walked with him, head down, as if they were a couple strolling. “Until I know what’s going on, I think it’s best to leave the police out of the loop. Look up and act surprised by what’s happening.”
Three police cars zoomed past them. The air crackled with the chaos that came after a shooting. Joe wasn’t ready to process that he’d been the one to fire a bullet that had taken a life, even if he only did it to save a life.
Another cruiser slowed ever so briefly as the officer in the passenger side glanced at them. They were looking for the shooter, but Kendra’s face showed the perfect amount of confusion and concern that he knew the officer would assume they were just bystanders. His suspicion was confirmed as the officer shook his head and they zoomed away, likely to check all the nearby alleys.
“Covert work comes naturally to you, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t help but wonder if she pretended to be part of a couple with a lot of agents.
Kendra dropped his hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can you get to the part about my supposed mother telling you about me?”
Another reminder it wasn’t time to catch up. “Yes. She’s made brilliant discoveries in the field of behavior analysis, she’s an excellent professor and—” he peeked around the brick building before rounding the corner “she’s also watched very closely by hired guns, like the one who tried to kill you.”
He pointed ahead to a blue Victorian house that from the outside appeared to be falling apart. The porch sagged and the landscaping, while trimmed neatly, contained more weeds than grass. Even the windows were covered in grime from years of neglect. They would have to cross the street, in the open, to reach it. “I really think I should let her have a chance to explain the rest. You won’t have to wait much longer.”
The time he’d spent with Beverly taught him she was a woman so defined by pain she couldn’t see life as offering anything else. He needed to weigh his words with care and make sure he didn’t interfere with any chance for her and Kendra to make amends. “If you have any questions afterward, I’ll be glad to tell you what I know.”
She exhaled, her curled lip expressing her distaste for his decision.
“I promise,” he added. The compulsion to say such a thing surprised him.
A silver sedan turned the corner. He gestured for Kendra to step in the shadow made by a nearby dumpster, and they pressed their backs against the brick until it passed. “Oh, and, Kendra?”
Her wide green eyes studied him. “Yes?”
“If she thinks you’re in danger, you have every reason to believe her.”
TWO (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Kendra followed Joe through the side door of the Victorian house. The place appeared to be standing on its last legs. Inside was no better. Dust swirled in the sunbeams shining through the front windows. The wooden floors were warped from age and possible flooding, and the furniture sported beige tarps. “You’re telling me this is where Beverly really lives?”
She hadn’t needed Joe to tell her about the other house Beverly apparently kept for show. Kendra had already looked it up online. Why anyone would choose to actually live in an old dump over a home with modern upgrades, though, was beyond her.
Joe walked down the hallway, stopped at a metal basement door and knocked to the musical rhythm of “Shave and a Haircut.”
“Really?”
He flashed what she considered to be his trademark smirk, the one she’d felt drawn to during their time at the academy. He had to know how attractive he looked wearing that mischievous expression. The sound of metal sliding echoed around them. Joe turned the handle and swung open the door to reveal carpeted stairs and an electronic lock and keypad installed on the wall.
She fought to keep her face neutral, knowing he was watching for her reaction. He closed the door behind her and pressed the red lock button on the keypad. They descended into an apartment complete with gleaming wooden floors, stainless kitchen appliances, lighting that mimicked natural sunlight and colorful red and blue love seats arranged around a tiled coffee table covered in hardback books.
Beverly stepped out of a side room to face them, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail. She’d already changed into jeans and a hunter green sweater. She crossed her arms across her chest. “How’d you find out?”
Kendra clenched her jaw. The nerve. If anyone deserved answers, it was her. Fine, she’d play Beverly’s game, but only because Joe had promised to tell all later. “I chased down every informant and asset I’ve ever had. After a little pushing, I found a common thread in about a third of my cases. Anonymous tips that seemed too convenient, some in the form of emails, some texts. I called in some unofficial favors to track—”
“And likely caused a lot of attention.” Beverly glanced at Joe and flicked her wrist. “Those tips weren’t convenient at all. I was trying to help keep you safe, which you’ve just thrown away.”
Kendra thought she’d been prepared for her first conversation with her birth mother. She’d imagined it countless times while trying to set up shields around her heart, and yet, this wasn’t matching any of the planned scenarios. Her throat tightened as she breathed deeply and tried to get control over her emotions. Beverly’s words alone indicated she cared, but her tone threatened to break Kendra.
Beverly held up the phone she’d taken off the dead man’s body and shoved the screen in Kendra’s direction. “You’re officially a target.”
I recognize a Fed. Clearly not a student.
The response below read: Keep me apprised.
Kendra remembered feeling like she was being watched in the classroom, but no one had raised a red flag before the attempted shooting. She glanced up. “I wasn’t the only Fed. This text could mean Joe.”
Beverly shook her head. “No. They know he’s quitting to become a pastor. I made sure of it before he audited my class. There’s no security cameras on that side of the building, but if he was spotted shooting—” She inhaled, shook her head and reached to scroll down the screen to the next text.
Prof is running away from Fed now.
The response sent a chill down Kendra’s spine. Take Fed out.
Her mother grabbed the phone back from her, flipped it over and removed the battery. “It’s only a matter of time until they realize he didn’t succeed.” She shoved both parts of the phone into a black mesh bag that, judging by the symbols, looked to be the type to block a tracking signal.
“That doesn’t explain why a gunman was watching you.” Kendra’s hackles rose. “You said you would brief me. That usually includes more than vague pronouns.”
Beverly pulled back her shoulders and pursed her lips, a movement Kendra recognized as the expression she also flashed when annoyed. An odd feeling of connection rose and fell like a wave.
“The owner of this phone was part of the illegal group known as Masked—you should recognize the name since they’ve been a top FBI priority—and whoever sent this text is especially edgy after the loss of their secure communications.”
Kendra frowned. “Masked was a cellular network designed solely for organized crime use, but the FBI completely dismantled it.” Actually, it was the mission where her twin had taken over for her, so, technically, Audrey had helped to dismantle Masked, but Beverly didn’t need to know the details. She glanced at Joe. “The FBI issued a press release weeks ago once they were sure they got everyone. The Masked Network is no more.”
“Network is the key word.” Beverly held up a finger. “You only got their communications. The actual goal of Masked is to recruit agents, soldiers, intelligence and technologies of value to sell to the highest bidder, usually foreign entities. Masked is the brainchild of one person, and I think that person, a man who refers to himself as the Pirate, is a mole within one of our federal agencies.”
The news felt like a slap in the face. Surely, Beverly didn’t know what she was talking about. “If what you are saying is true, why didn’t all the people the FBI arrested rat him out?”
“Two reasons. By design, members only know those within their own segment of the organization. I’m sure they’ve never met the Pirate since he’s the world’s safest delegator. Well, until recently, after you and your partner took down communications.”
Kendra crossed her arms, unnerved by Beverly’s last statement. “I never said anything about my partner or I being involved.” In fact, only a select group at the FBI knew that information, and only a few knew that Audrey had taken her place. “I think it’s time you tell me how you know about this pirate.”
“Because the Pirate recruited me.” Beverly sank down onto the armrest of the closest couch. “I put myself in a position to be snatched up by Masked. My deep-cover assignment is to get into the inner circle and identify the Pirate. I’ve worked my way up to head analyst, but have yet to meet him.”
“Deep cover for what agency?”
For a moment it seemed Beverly would refuse to answer, then she sighed. “I report only to the director of NCS.”
“You’re NCS?” Kendra didn’t bother keeping the surprise from her voice. The National Clandestine Service, the little-known undercover arm of the CIA, served as the primary source of human intelligence in the nation. The NCS operated differently than any other federal agency. Rumored to skip written reports, they were so secret that even the director of the division wasn’t officially disclosed. “Do you think the Pirate works in your division?” The idea seemed logical, as the NCS served as the national authority for all evaluation of undercover operations across the intelligence community.
Beverly offered a half-hearted shrug. “Initially. But, if that was the case, I don’t believe the FBI would’ve succeeded in taking down their communication network, which funded much of their recruiting efforts. And, ever since that takedown, all integral members of Masked have been carefully watched.”
“That’s why you have a gunman following you around?”
“Yes. The organization is wounded and suspicious, but the last thing we want is for them to go underground and rebuild.” Another phone buzzed and Beverly glanced at it. “Masked wants a status report from me about the Fed.”
“Maybe you can stall them,” Kendra offered. “Text a mission-complete status.”
“Won’t do any good. The body has already been found. That man wasn’t the only one that kept tabs on me. They rotate shifts.”
Another buzz. Beverly shook her head. “Great. Now Masked wants me to check in, physically.” She stood. “I need to stay on their good side and stall them. There weren’t any security cameras on that side of the building, but it’s only a matter of time until they realize who you are. As soon as they figure out you and your partner broke up their communications network, they’ll want all of us dead. Joe, I’m afraid that includes you. I figure we only have one shot to take them down, or we’ll need to go underground, permanently.”
“WITSEC?” Joe asked.
“You can’t get witness protection if you don’t know whom you need protection from.” She turned to Kendra. “Can I dare hope you’ve secured your sister’s research?”
Kendra caught herself pulling back her shoulders and pursing her lips, then realized what she was doing and shook her head instead. “What are you talking about?”
Beverly threw up her hands. “I thought it was obvious. I arranged for you to meet your sister. I sent Audrey’s last-minute invite to the conference at Stanford. I had a tip you’d be there.”
The blood felt like it’d left Kendra’s face. “You arranged for us to meet?”
“Of course. There’s no time to explain it all, Kendra. The point is your sister’s research is very important. I thought for sure you’d connect the dots by now.”
She wanted to open her mouth and tell Beverly that she couldn’t play with people’s lives like that—
“Audrey is on the cusp of a breakthrough in the advancement of metamaterials.”
Joe whistled low. “Are we talking cloaking technology? Is she working on upgrades to what the military is using?”
Kendra wanted to roll her eyes at his enthusiasm. Yes, her sister was a genius, big-shot government grant researcher at Caltech. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I’ve been hearing murmurs that the Pirate is going after Audrey’s research.”
Kendra’s neck tingled. “Are you saying she’s in danger?”
Beverly hesitated before she shook her head. “I don’t believe so. He has no interest in recruiting her personally and won’t want to draw attention. He only wants to obtain and sell the research.” Her phone vibrated again, and she began rushing around the room, gathering items and shoving them in a duffel bag. “He usually asks me to analyze someone for the best way to bribe them, but in this scenario, he said he already knew how to obtain what he wanted.”
“You’re saying the Pirate already knows someone at the lab will hand over the research.”
“Yes. Either he’s already commissioned someone to infiltrate the lab, or, I believe, based on his behavior, that he’s planning to infiltrate the lab himself. It’s in the best interests of our national security that he doesn’t succeed. If he sold it to another country—” Beverly reached a hand out to put on her shoulder but Kendra instinctively took a step backward. “This is probably the only chance to get our hands on the Pirate. You’ve met your sister now. Do you think you could take her place?”
A regular twin swap, just like when Audrey had taken her place on the mission. Only this time it would be Kendra’s turn to pretend she was Audrey. She’d probably have jumped at the idea if she’d been in high school, but now, the request infuriated her. “I’m sure it would’ve been easier had I grown up knowing her.”
“We don’t have time for this!” Beverly’s eyes blazed. “You want to know why you didn’t? Your father was a double agent. Does that make you feel better?” Beverly blinked rapidly. “Obviously, I didn’t know that when I married him,” she said in a softer voice. “Seven months pregnant, I intercepted a message that as soon as you were born, his orders were to kill me and kidnap you and your sister. I ran away, had you two and gave you up for adoption to keep you safe. Because what kind of life could I give you, constantly running away from a double agent?” Her voice wobbled as she raised her chin. “Months later, I knew I made the right decision when he found me.”
Joe stepped forward. “Okay, maybe we should wait to unpack history until—”
Kendra ignored him. She couldn’t take a break from hearing the whole story. This was the reason she’d tracked down Beverly in the first place—to find out the whole truth. Her heart beat so fast she could hardly think straight. “Is he still alive?”
Beverly turned away. “It was either him or me.” Her phone buzzed a third time. “Does the FBI know you’re here?”
Kendra fought to focus on her question when all her mind wanted to do was play the news about her parents on a loop. “No. All the FBI knows is I took a leave of absence.”
Beverly exhaled. “Well, that’s something. It’ll make it harder for Masked to figure out which Fed was here, but we still don’t have much time. Go. Take Audrey’s place in the lab. Secure the research and figure out the Pirate’s identity before anyone in Masked discovers Special Agent Parker is my daughter. Joe, go with her—”
“I’m not so sure—”
Beverly leveled a harsh stare at him. “She can’t trust anyone else. She needs backup and a good analyst to help her. It’s why I’ve been training you.”
He blinked rapidly, and they both turned to Beverly at the same time. Joe’s mouth dropped. “What?”
Joe held up his hands. “What do you mean �training’ me?” He replayed every discussion he could remember with Beverly from the past six weeks. “You came to the church after service one day and told me you were having a crisis of faith. You said you thought your classes would be useful to my ministry because—”
“Ever since Kendra shut down the network, the Pirate has become a little neurotic with trust issues,” Beverly said.
“You call it trust issues. I call it fear of being arrested,” Kendra said.
Joe shook his head. “She’s trying to say I’ve been the middle man for her reports to the director of the NCS. I’ve delivered some flash drives to a dead drop at the hospital when I’m making my visiting rounds. It’s why she read me in about her undercover work with NCS.” But he never thought she was trying to train him for anything. She did offer him a lot of extra tutelage in her behavior analysis classes, but he thought she was simply passionate about the field of study.
Beverly shook her head. “That’s not why I read you in, Joe. I told you about Kendra and Audrey because you were useful as an asset, not because I was having a crisis of faith.”
The way Beverly said the last three words made him wonder if she’d ever believed or if she’d used his faith as a way to manipulate him into doing what she wanted.
“I was aware of your analyst background and that you already knew Kendra,” she continued. “It was a long shot that Kendra would secure Audrey’s research without a mandate, although I hoped. I was preparing you as an asset to go help her. My class curriculum was geared toward what you’d need to know to stand up against Masked.”
She’d only wanted to train him for a mission? Was that the real reason she’d wanted him in her classes? “And what if I say no?” He wasn’t a puppet.
She crossed her arms and leaned back, a sure sign Beverly knew she had the upper hand. “Do I have to remind you who shot that man today? You have the freedom to say no, but you’d be putting your own life, that of your congregants, Kendra and I, and anyone else who gets near you, in danger if the Pirate isn’t stopped.”
Joe’s stomach flipped. He hated the thought of taking a life, but he’d only done so to spare Kendra. Beverly knew as much. She was, after all, the expert in behavior analysis. She knew he wouldn’t stand for putting anyone in danger if he could help it.
Beverly nodded, as if she saw the agreement on his face before he’d felt it. “Don’t trust anyone else in the FBI or any of the other law-enforcement agencies. There are ears everywhere. I have to disappear now. Please, do what I ask. If you fail, we’ll never get to finish this conversation.”
“Because we’ll all be dead. Yes, we get the picture,” Joe stated.
A beeping sounded from across the room. Beverly spun and walked to the computer against the wall and clicked on the monitor. “I apparently didn’t remove the gunman’s phone battery fast enough. They’ve already tracked it to here.” She groaned. “I’m getting too old for this.”
“Are you sure they haven’t been tracking your phone?” Kendra asked.
Beverly’s smile could only be described as condescending. She reached underneath the desk and pulled out a stuffed backpack. A hat and glasses were tossed Kendra’s way. “Put those on and get out of here. I’m assuming you have some covers prepared. Use them. Do you your best to keep your identity hidden.” She handed Joe a hat, along with a pack of three driver’s licenses, all with his photograph and fake names on them and a stack of Visa gift cards.
He stared at his image. “You really have been preparing to send me.”
“Keep her safe, Joe.”
“I’ll do my best.” Despite the gnawing feeling that he’d been handled, he knew the right thing to do was help Kendra.
“With all due respect, I’m the special agent. I’m pretty sure I’ll be keeping him safe,” Kendra snapped. Her cheeks flushed as if she’d just realized she’d spoken aloud.
“I’ll let you two recount who saved who,” Beverly said. The monitor beeped again. Two cars on two different camera angles appeared on the screen. “Take the back exit now.”
“What about you?” Kendra asked, her voice rising.
“Worry about yourself. They’re coming. Go!”
THREE (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Never before had Kendra felt so belittled and confused, and that was saying something since she’d been through the FBI Academy. No time for logical explanations or discussions. No, of course not. Instead, one interaction with her spy birth mother, and Kendra found herself running for her life.
She followed Joe, as he ascended the stairs by only taking every other step, since he knew the house layout best. He waited for her at the top before opening the door. “As long as it’s still clear, we head for the back door. There are bushes on each side—not a good safety feature for a normal person—”
“Joe, there’s no time to be analyzing the security for—”
“Right. Our visitors will probably be drawn to the front and side entrances. As long as they’re not at the back yet, we make a run for the neighbor’s house. It’s empty. I noticed the foreclosure sign when we approached. You can pick a lock, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t always carry a lock-picking set.”
He raised an eyebrow as if in disbelief.
“Fine. I brought one with me today, but I really don’t carry it at all times.” Truth was, if she hadn’t interacted with the professor at the classroom, she’d planned to investigate the town house before leaving. Not exactly legal, but she’d justified the possibility since she had potential evidence that her birth mother was tampering with her federal investigations by providing anonymous tips. Now, there was no need. Beverly had admitted as much.
“Unlock the back for us next door, and we can hide in there until the coast is clear enough to make it to my car.”
Kendra was used to calling the shots when working with a partner, but Joe seemed ready to take the reins. Showing her the way out of the house was one thing, but planning out the mission was another. “My rental car makes more sense. We can ditch it before there’s any need to track it, and I didn’t use my real name to rent it. If it stays at the college campus it’ll draw attention, especially given the shooting investigation, and lead to my identity being discovered faster.”
Beverly poked her head around the bottom of the staircase. “Go already. The back is clear!”
“I forgot she had cameras there, too.” Joe pressed the open button on the keypad and they burst through the door, down a long hallway lined with tall windows covered in green roller shades, through a kitchen that still held a woodstove and old-fashioned refrigerator. If they had the time Kendra would’ve wanted to soak in the feeling of being in the early 1900s. Joe led them through the dining room and hovered at the back doorknob.
They each took a window on either side. “It’s clear over here,” she whispered, in case the men had already entered the house. “Are you sure Beverly has another way out of this place?”
“I know her well enough to know she always has a backup plan.” Joe put a finger to his lips before he opened the door. She followed him into the sticky air. The so-called bushes he’d referred to were, in reality, five-foot-tall weeds. They ran through the rest of the wild grasses and around the second house.
“Keep watch.” Kendra slipped out her government-issued steel picks and made short work of the flimsy back-door lock. Joe poked his head around the corner of the house, watching for anyone coming their way. The door squeaked when she pulled on the doorknob, but they slipped inside the weathered blue house into another old kitchen, left abandoned in the middle of a remodel.
Joe joined her and closed the door behind him. “The men haven’t entered her house yet. They’re circling.” He kept his voice soft.
Kendra peeled back the side edge of the window shade half an inch. “They’ve got two men approaching the back entrance.” She straightened. “The house is surrounded, but I never saw Beverly exit unless she did while I picked the lock. We know there were men already at the front and side. How is she getting out?”
“She might have decided to bluff her way out. Unless Masked is sure she’s betrayed them, they won’t hurt her.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Your mother—”
“Please don’t call her that.” She closed her eyes and exhaled. Her bones felt heavy with destroyed hopes. “I’m not ready. Beverly is so antagonistic, so bitter, so... She knows nothing about me, but she basically implied I’m bad at my job.”
“Understood. It won’t happen again.” He nodded. “She’s a hard woman, but she’d be the first to admit it. I suppose if you lived your entire adult life undercover, it might do that to a person.”
Kendra prickled at the thought. She’d been undercover for several years. Already, she’d developed a thick skin and a tendency to assume the worst of people. Was Beverly a walking example of her future? “Why is she so valuable to Masked?”
“She’s the expert at behavior analysis. The CIA recruited her because she could pinpoint with disturbing accuracy the people that were foreign agents hiding among us. When they sent her overseas, she knew who was an American agent without any prior knowledge. Back in those days, the KGB also seemed to be good at pinpointing Americans. Beverly taught our side what indicators were giving our agents away. Agents often drove the same types of cars, always took the same type of jobs—sometimes the exact same job and apartment as their predecessors.”
“Does it surprise you that I can believe it? You’ve been in the Bureau long enough to see its flaws, maybe more so since you’re an analyst. Our government excels at many things, but bureaucracy makes room for plenty of blind spots in the intelligence community.”
“True, but we can thank her for a lot of the improvements that have been made since before we were born. She also pointed out where their training made them stand out in a world of other agents. Her real passion was research, though, so she retired from the CIA at a young age and continued her work in academia. That’s when she met...” Joe’s brow furrowed.
Kendra wasn’t sure she was ready to hear any more news about her father. “If she was that good, why didn’t she pick up that my father was a double agent?”
Joe removed his own sunglasses but avoided her gaze. “When I was at the Bureau, I saw enough cases where love blinded people.”
Her cheeks heated so fast it took her off guard. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that.”
“I imagine her shame at being duped is what sent her back into Intelligence, but this time with the NCS.”
“You’re saying it’s her way of making amends.”
“If I’ve learned one thing today, it’s not to underestimate her. I don’t presume to know any of her motivations.”
“So you’re sure she’s NCS. How do we know she’s not the mole?”
“I think her earlier logic about taking down the communications network answered that. Besides, didn’t you say all her anonymous tips helped your cases?”
She’d forgotten momentarily about that. “I’m finding it hard to believe the unfeeling woman I just met could do anything helpful without her own agenda.”
“Either way, her actions don’t really sound like the modus operandi of the Pirate.” He peeked out the blinds. “Two more cars arrived. That’s not a good sign.”
“They wouldn’t send so many if they were just checking on her.” Kendra took another glance out the window to see for herself. “I count three from my vantage point alone. I’m sure there’s more. They haven’t entered the house yet.” She reared back. “We can’t let her be ambushed like this.” She pulled her gun from the back and rushed toward the stairs. “Come on, sharpshooter.”
“I shot that man only out of defense. I don’t purposely kill anyone. Not anymore.”
She faltered on the first step. She had a feeling he was referring to his military experience before he joined the FBI. “I appreciate that you saved my life back there. If I haven’t said it before, thank you. But, Joe, I can’t stand around and let Beverly get killed. I can take out most of those gunmen, but not all. I need your help.”
Joe paled and reached for his weapon. “I can see that.”
Kendra followed his gaze to a side window with a plate-sized rip in the shade. She’d been spotted.
Joe held his gun aim steady, certain the man outside the window couldn’t see him because of the angle. “Maybe he didn’t see your gun,” Joe said. “Keep moving at a natural pace up the stairs.”
The creak of the wood confirmed she was on the move without him looking away from the window.
“I don’t think they’re going to ignore potential witnesses,” she said. “I can take them out from the top floor. Holler if we have a first-floor breach.”
Joe blew out a steady breath, struggling to keep cool. The tension in the back of his shoulders had turned into a full-fledged knot, most likely because he refused to process what he’d done. Now, when he thought he’d never need to be responsible for someone else’s physical safety again, he’d been forced to raise his weapon for the second time in one day. The man outside reached inside his blazer. Joe tensed and moved his finger closer to the trigger.
A handheld radio appeared in the man’s hands as his gaze traveled above, upstairs. He was likely calling for reinforcements. He turned and waved at someone outside of Joe’s view. Not good.
The windows Joe stared out of appeared to be single pane, not the double-pane windows so common after the fifties, so Joe didn’t feel comfortable hollering to Kendra upstairs without fear of being heard. He took advantage of the man’s distraction, though, and kept sight of him through the ten-inch-diameter hole in the shade, praying silently that the man and the “friend” who joined him didn’t see Joe as he slid over to the stairway. He took the stairs three steps at a time.
He reached the landing. Kendra glanced up from her position by the northernmost window. “They haven’t entered Beverly’s house yet, but I’m counting a good eight men that have it surrounded now. Oh. Scratch that. One man is opening her back door.” Kendra looked over her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a post near the guardrail in case we get any visitors downstairs?”
“I don’t intend to shoot anyone, Kendra.”
She pursed her lips and glanced at the gun in his hand. “Why do you have that then?”
“For self-defense only. If you’re so worried about her safety, let’s call the police. Beverly made it clear she wanted us to go, and if we’d stuck to the plan—”
“You mean the plan to hide out until the coast was clear? It wasn’t as if I meant for that man to see me, Joe.”
“If you weren’t so intent on proving—”
Kendra’s lips flattened. She lowered her weapon and stepped away from the window. With her left hand she raised an index finger. “Don’t. Whatever ninja behavior analysis she taught you, I don’t want to hear it. I know I’m a good agent, despite what she said. I don’t need to prove anything. Besides, you didn’t answer my question. Why do you still carry a gun?”
“I don’t usually carry it.”
“You had one with you at a university, Joe. I’m grateful, but that’s not a normal thing for a chaplain or pastor to do.”
“That’s different. You saw the man who was following her. Those men are always armed.”
“You appointed yourself as Beverly’s personal bodyguard? Again, not the behavior of a guy ready to leave the FBI.”
He opened his mouth but had no reply because he couldn’t ignore the possibility she was right. Beverly had practically said the same thing when she’d suggested he keep his foot in the door by applying for the FBI chaplain program. It was like an epic game of Twister. He had one foot in law enforcement, the other foot in academia and his hands in two different types of ministry. Not a single spot felt very comfortable at the moment.
Kendra straightened and glanced out the window. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later. Guard the front door. It looks like they’re about to swarm both this house and Beverly’s.”
He rushed toward her to see if he came to the same conclusion. He was used to participating in the planning of missions, not carrying them out. Kendra saw him coming and took one step to the side. He flattened his back against the wall, beside her, as the windows upstairs had no shades. The way the sunbeams angled against the house provided some cover, though. They would reflect off the pane and make it harder for the men downstairs to know they were being watched.
“They have weapons, Joe. We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“When the FBI raids a place to take a suspect in for questioning they have weapons, too. You’re not a vigilante, Kendra. Let’s not go rogue. It’s not time for knee-jerk reactions when we don’t know their intentions.”
Kendra’s head fell. “Why do you have to be so logical?” Her shoulders touched his with the movement before she tilted her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes had lost the hard sheen, and he recognized a new openness to negotiation, to reason. “I feel like I’m flying blind, and I don’t know what to do.”
He reached over with his free hand and squeezed hers quickly before letting go. “I think we should seriously consider calling the police.”
“Even if I agreed, the phone system is probably full after the shooting at the university. Doubt we can expect a fast reaction time, and she made a point of telling us not to trust anyone from other agencies. I assume that includes the police. Meanwhile, Beverly is still in there like a sitting duck.”
He leaned over to look out the window. Beverly’s house burst into a flaming ball. The windows next to him exploded, blowing shards of glass inward. He grabbed Kendra and dove to the ground as the side of the house disappeared.
FOUR (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Kendra hit the floor. Her knuckles made first contact. She cried out from the impact as her fingers were still wrapped around the gun. She rolled and popped up to a sitting position. Smoke billowed into the open side of the house from the massive crater next door. Half of Beverly’s house was gone.
The gunmen were lying prone on the grass below. Two of them wore jackets with FBI on the back. Were they legit or agents on the take? Another wore a nondescript blazer and yet another had on a blue jacket with US Marshals in yellow letters on the back. Everything added up to confirm what Beverly and Joe had been telling her. Kendra really wouldn’t be able to trust anyone until she took down the rest of Masked. One of the men started to move to his knees but fell down again. Injured but not dead, he’d likely survive.
Joe held one hand over his left ear. The jagged remains of the floor that was left beneath them creaked. He gestured to the stairs. “We need to go before this collapses, too.”
Her eyes, nose and throat burned as she let her gaze travel over the burning pile of rubble. There was too much smoke to tell just how deep the explosion went. Did it take out the basement apartment, too? “But—”
“She’s not dead, Kendra. We have to go. This is our chance to escape.”
She searched his soot-covered face for reassurance that he wasn’t bluffing. “How do you know she’s not? What if she’s still in the basement, trapped? You don’t know for sure, do you?”
He holstered his weapon and stood, pulling her upright with him. “No one becomes an NCS agent without always having a backup plan. She’s the best of the best. The bomb was probably for our benefit so we could leave without anyone following us. Come on.” Joe held her hand and guided her over the mess of broken wood and glass by the stairs, also covered in debris. The third step no longer existed.
They made it downstairs. The ringing in her ears diminished enough she could recognize the oncoming sirens—so many sirens in one day. Usually the sound spiked her adrenaline and put her on alert, but today her insides felt hollow and numb. Weeks of tracking down her birth mother only to lose her. It was hard to believe Joe’s theory that she’d escaped, but he knew Beverly better than she did, so she let him lead.
For now.
They reached the same back door they’d entered. Joe unclipped his holstered gun once more and led her down an alley between old houses with detached garages. He looked over his shoulder every few steps. The gravel crunched underneath her feet. She lost track of how many turns they made before Joe came to a stop. He checked over his shoulder once more before he accessed a garage keypad. “How are you holding up? Have you noticed any injuries?”
She focused on her breathing, and the fog that she’d operated in for the past fifteen minutes began to fade. Her bones and muscles ached from the sheer force of the explosion, but other than that, she felt fine. “No. What about you?”
He glanced down at his thumb as the garage door started to go up. “I think I got a nasty splinter but other than that—”
She snorted. She couldn’t help it. “Do yourself a favor and don’t lead with that injury at the next academy reunion.”
He flashed the good-natured smirk that made him seem five years younger, and she found it contagious. She needed to choose to trust that Joe knew what he was talking about and keep moving forward.
The garage opened to reveal an old-fashioned cruiser bicycle with white-rimmed wheels and a basket. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ll tell you right now I’m not sitting on the handles while you steer.”
He waved her toward the interior door. “This is my place, a rental. The bike came with the house. I thought we could wash up, and I’ll ride this to pick up my car and come back to pick get you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to grab a bag before we travel to Caltech.”
The statement brought back the sense of urgency. “You have a go bag ready, right?”
He nodded. “Some habits die hard.”
She suspected it was more that he wasn’t really ready to leave the FBI, but she didn’t want to start that discussion again. “Between the shooting on campus and the house exploding, I would imagine all the ways out of town will be guarded checkpoints in no time flat. While I think we could pass inspection, I’d rather not increase Masked’s chances in discovering I was the Fed who contacted Beverly.”
“I’m not worried about the checkpoints. I know of a farm with an access road that leads clear out to a highway. I’ll be shocked if anyone thinks to monitor that.”
She reached up and brushed the soot off his cheek without thinking. He stiffened but looked down, a kindness in his eyes that made her heart beat faster. She pulled her hand back as if burned. “Sorry. I’m sure you can take care of that yourself.” What was wrong with her?
“I’ll take all the help I can get.” He shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention to my appearance.”
As if. His clothes always looked brand-new, crisp and fresh. She gestured toward his button-down shirt that amazingly, despite the soot covering it, didn’t look wrinkled.
“I find ironing to be relaxing, and I like starch.” He opened the door inside his house. “Restroom is to your left. I’ll grab my car first and we can either leave town or get your rental, though I think the campus will be on lockdown.”
“I parked on a side street.”
“Smart. Should’ve known you would’ve.” He strode in the house and up the stairs while she stepped in the spotless washroom. Her apartment was barely lived in and wasn’t this clean. She didn’t think the adage “cleanliness is next to godliness” was actually in the Bible, but it probably didn’t hurt as a quality trait on his résumé if he really was making a transition to being a pastor. Kendra made sure all evidence of ash and grime was removed from herself and the sink. Once she got her bag from her car she would have to change clothes at the airport to ensure no one smelled smoke on her before boarding.
She stepped out and Joe stood waiting, holding a bag in one hand and offering her a water bottle in the other. It was as if they’d both switched on autopilot. Within fifteen minutes, they’d returned his car to the garage and managed to escape town in her rental, even though they’d passed plenty of parked police cruisers and black SUVs, likely assigned to federal agents. They both kept their hats and sunglasses on despite the overcast skies, until Joe found the dirt access road on barren farmland that had already been harvested.
Another sixty minutes later, they returned the rental at the airport and bought separate tickets on Southwest with direct service to Los Angeles. Since there was no assigned seating on the airline, they could sit together without fear of someone looking at the manifest and connecting the dots. By the time the attendant announced boarding, they’d gone three hours without speaking, which was fine with her.
“You know what I remember most at the academy?” Joe asked, as if he’d heard her thoughts and wanted to correct her. He leaned back in his seat, ignoring the flight attendant’s safety speech. “Boxing.”
She cringed. “I have a lot of memories of Quantico, but that’s one of many I definitely choose to forget most of the time.” The boxing test was a necessary, but painful, part of training. All trainees had been paired up in a boxing ring, men against women, and told to beat on each other in order to prove they could defend themselves. “I’ll never forget that poor accountant. Cynthia, was it?”
He groaned. “Brandon popped her right in the nose, and that was it. She quit.” He shook his head and sneaked a glance at her. “I wouldn’t have lasted, either, if I hadn’t been paired with you.”
“Maybe.”
“No, I’m sure. I’ll never forget tapping you on the shoulder while the instructor yelled to hit you harder. If you hadn’t made it clear you knew how to defend yourself with that fake-out jump punch to my jaw, I wouldn’t have passed.” He shook his head. “I still don’t agree with that part of our training. If I’d actually made any contact with you or caused any bruises like some of the others...”
“You can thank my three older brothers and my Tang Soo Do instructors. I had to be an expert in wrestling and blocking maneuvers.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me back then, too.”
She found herself smiling, not at the memory of having to fight each other, but from remembering what happened afterward. “I never thought I would be consoling a guy who tried to hit me—even though I totally know you took it easy on me—with burgers and fries.”
He laughed. “I felt horrible. Never thought I would ever try to hit a girl, even if it was for training.” His smile morphed into a frown. “I think that was when I first questioned whether I’d taken the right path.”
There he went again, implying he was serious about leaving the FBI. She refused to believe it. “I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in this. Obviously, it’s not normal FBI work, so you can’t really judge—”
“You heard Beverly. She had this in mind for me ever since I met her, just shortly after I arrived as the interim associate pastor. I was just too trusting to see it.”
Kendra chose her words carefully because she knew—despite the loud aircraft noise—that someone might overhear bits and pieces of their conversation. “But if you hadn’t needed to help me this morning, she might not have been able to manipulate you into coming with me. For that, I’m sorry.”
He leaned slightly toward her so only she could hear. “There’s no need to apologize. While I stood in line, I realized that it wouldn’t have mattered.” His voice was soft and caring. “All Beverly would’ve needed to do was mention your name, and I’d have come running. I think she knew that.”
Kendra felt her eyes widen but didn’t reply. What did he mean? Because they could never, ever, be more than friends no matter how strong the attraction. Agents together as a couple never worked.
He clenched his jaw and looked down as if he’d said too much before he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Joe thought he managed to act nonchalant the rest of the way to Los Angeles and even through the insanity of renting a car and driving to Pasadena from LAX in rush-hour traffic. Inwardly, though, he worried that his admission to Kendra sent the wrong message. Her eyes widened as if he’d just proclaimed romantic intentions, but if he tried to correct her and explain that he just meant he would do anything for his friends, that would just add fuel to the fire. He would have sounded desperate, like a man who had said “I love you” without hearing it back. No, the right thing to do was to let it go and act cool.
Even though the drive was only supposed to be a little over twenty miles, the trip took over two hours. He blew out a forceful breath as he finally got to California Boulevard. “So, you never told me, what was it like to meet your sister for the first time? I mean besides being shocked.”
She tilted her head from side to side as if considering how much to share. “Well, I had a scheduled meet with a contact, but bullets started flying before I could get there. I was trying not to let on that I’d been shot so I might not have been thinking clearly. Mostly, I needed to understand why my partner was running with someone who looked identical to me before I acknowledged I needed help. I had no idea what was going on.”
The news almost made him pull over. “What?”
“I didn’t want to get into it with Beverly, especially since we were short on time, but I didn’t meet Audrey inside a conference like she intended. It was a mission gone wrong. I was in the middle of trying to get the answers I wanted when I passed out, hit my head and ended up in surgery. When I woke up, Audrey had taken my place on the mission. She was actually the one with my partner, Lee, who took down the communications of Masked.”
“Whoa. I’m glad they got you into surgery in time.”
Kendra smiled. “So you really didn’t know about that? It may sound weird, but it brings me a little solace that Beverly doesn’t know everything.”
He couldn’t imagine what she had to feel like knowing Beverly had kept tabs on her for all her life, but had never reached out.
“Anyway, to answer your question, I didn’t really process that I had a twin until I woke up in the hospital with nothing to do but wait for updates from Lee and Audrey. After the fact, though, I—I guess it’s almost like finding a part of myself I’d been missing.” She shook her head. “That probably sounds melodramatic. I love my adoptive family. I can’t imagine if someone else had raised me.” She held up a hand as if shaking the thought away. “We’re here.” Her voice changed to a businesslike tone.
“I have brothers. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to meet them as adults.”
She shrugged. “Audrey and I are very different people, but we’ve discovered a few areas of similar taste. Well, you’re about to see for yourself.” She glanced at him. “I know it’s dark already, but I think we should keep the hats on in case someone is watching for us. Audrey lives in faculty housing just ahead.”
“Understood.” He parked and stepped out of the vehicle. Behind them, many of the undergrad houses were decked out in Christmas lights, but as they crossed the campus they passed a hundred-foot-tall building, where strings of sixty-foot rope lights formed the shape of a Christmas tree that reached the rooftop. “Does your sister know we’re coming?”
“I texted her at the airport that I needed to speak to her in person, urgently. She should be waiting for me.”
They rounded a corner to find floating bright lights racing toward them. “What—”
Joe operated on instinct and grabbed Kendra by the shoulders, tugging her off the path into the grass, before a group of almost a hundred bikes almost ran them over.
“Sorry, Professor Clark,” someone called out.
“Come with us, Professor,” another student shouted, glancing back toward them briefly. “Christmas light ride!”
“You have to see Christmas Tree Lane,” another bicyclist shouted.
Kendra awkwardly held up a hand in a wave but didn’t answer. Two minutes later the path was empty. She grimaced. “So much for keeping a low profile. If they know Audrey is engaged, we might’ve started some rumors.”
His mind drifted to what it would be like to pretend to be a couple with Kendra, but he refocused as she’d started walking again. The thought did trigger a question, though. “Are you okay with your twin getting married to your partner?”
“Former partner,” she corrected. “Lee is getting transferred to be an FBI recruiter at UCLA soon, to be closer to her.” She smiled, and maybe he wanted to believe it, but the gesture seemed genuine. “Lee’s like one of my brothers. Like I said, Audrey and I are very different people. I don’t know how she could see him as anything more, but I’m genuinely happy for them. If there was any jealousy it’s only that I’m pretty sure they’re going to live happily-ever-after.” She sighed. “And how often does that happen?”
He wanted to ask if she ever hoped for a happily-ever-after and what type of man she’d look for, as a natural continuation of the conversation. But, given the awkwardness after the plane ride, he decided to keep his follow-up questions to himself. “I’ve met Lee before. It’s been a few years, but he seems like a great guy.”
She reached the bottom steps of the apartment building. “Is that your professional opinion as an analyst?”
“I didn’t profile him, but I’m typically 70 percent right about a person based on my first impression, yeah.”
“Isn’t that 30 percent room for error the most important part?”
“If your sister is anything like you, I’m sure she’s made a smart choice.”
That prompted another smile. “She is smart. Obviously. Or we wouldn’t be here.” They took the stairs to the second floor. Kendra hesitated at the top and spun around to face him. “Listen, the focus is on stopping the Pirate. We aren’t going to bring up Beverly again until Audrey is gone.”
“Are you sure? That’s a pretty big piece of the puzzle to leave out.” It was true he didn’t know for sure that Beverly had survived the blast, but he preferred to remain optimistic.
Her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. “It’s not my place or even my right to explain our birth mother works for the NCS. Audrey loves to gather facts and develop hypotheses. She’d have made an excellent interrogator, and I can’t take the time to rehash every word and gesture Beverly made today. Besides, Beverly seemed to think Audrey wasn’t in danger at the moment. I think the safest route for Audrey is to keep information on a need-to-know basis.”
While Beverly had told him about her daughters under the guise of having a crisis of faith, she hadn’t talked about their careers. He found it interesting that each daughter seemed to excel at elements of Beverly’s job. One was a researcher while the other was a covert agent. “Information on a need-to-know basis,” he answered. “Got it.”
Her shoulders dropped with an exhale. She nodded, then took two more steps until she reached an apartment door covered up by a wreath dotted with Disney characters wearing lab coats and safety glasses. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What—”
Joe couldn’t help but smile at the cute display, as Kendra had probably stopped at the wrong door. She wasn’t the type of person to take part in holiday decorations, and as near as he remembered, she wasn’t a big fan of Christmas.
The door in question swung open and Joe felt his eyebrows jump. There were two Kendras in front of him, except only one of them wore an ugly Christmas sweater and a jubilant smile while bouncing on her toes.
“I thought that was you outside.” The twin wrapped her arms around Kendra’s neck while simultaneously pulling her inside the apartment. “I was so happy to get your text. Did you find her?”
“I honestly don’t know where our birth mother is, but that’s not why I’m here.” Kendra shook her head slightly and stepped out of the embrace, but her eyes were wide and dazed as she looked around the apartment.
Joe stepped inside the threshold, without asking, curious what he’d see. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg hit him first as an oven timer beeped. Every wall in the apartment was covered with Christmas decorations. In the corner, a tree was so full of lights he almost needed sunglasses to look at it. Even the windows were outlined in lights, but the blinds were pulled open to see the outdoors. That was how Audrey had known they were coming. He crossed the room and closed the blinds. Someone else could be watching. If news got to the Pirate that Audrey had a twin, their chance to lure him into the open would disappear.
“Uh, who is this?” Audrey asked in a cheerful voice, her green eyes full of consternation that a strange man was taking such a liberty in her apartment.
Joe tipped his cap and opened his mouth to introduce himself but Kendra gestured toward him first.
“This is Joe Rose. He’s my partner for a last-minute mission, and I’m afraid we’re here to ask for your help.”
Audrey bounced over to the oven, seemingly nonplussed, as she pulled out a baking sheet of gingerbread men and turned off the timer. “You need me to pretend to be you again?” She smiled. “Because I’ve gotten pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”
“Actually, no. I need to take your place.”
Her smile faded, and she didn’t turn from staring at the oven. “That’s a big ask. You know my research is classified.”
“So was my mission to stop the Masked Network.”
Audrey grabbed a spatula and started transferring the cookies to a cooling rack. She gave a side-glance to Joe. “Are you any good with icing?”
That took him off guard. “Um, maybe?”
“Good. Because I think my sister is going to have a lot harder time pretending to be me than the other way around.”
Kendra barked a laugh. “I’m trained to do undercover work, Audrey.”
“Hmm. We’ll see. If you wouldn’t mind taking over...” Audrey picked up an icing packet and handed it to Joe. “Outline these men, dots for eyes, a smiley face and three cinnamon buttons down the torso.” She finally turned to Kendra. “It sounds like we have a lot to talk about while your new partner works on these.”
“We can talk in front of him. He’s trustworthy.”
“But this is my research, and I can’t take your word for it.” She held up a hand. “No offense, Joe.” She approached her sister. “Besides, if I go along with this switcheroo, which I assume you have good reason for, I need to know you can pull it off.” Audrey stuck out a thumb in Joe’s direction. “And he can be the one to prove it.”
Joe sensed a test in the making, and he wasn’t sure how to study.
FIVE (#ua3b73726-43b0-5651-8710-19950b34613e)
Kendra knew it wouldn’t be easy, she just didn’t realize Audrey would be so stubborn, even after she’d explained the situation. “I’m not sure you understand—”
“I understand the stakes.” Audrey paced in front of the queen bed draped in a dark blue coverlet covered in snowflakes. “I just need a moment to digest it, especially since you’re asking me not to tell Lee about any of this.” She rolled her eyes and blew out a breath. “It seems wrong to keep secrets from my fiancé.”
“I know it’s awkward, but the less either of you know, the better. It keeps both you and us safer. My source...” Speaking of keeping things from loved ones, Kendra fought back a guilty conscience. She’d broach the topic of their mother after the research was safe and the Pirate was behind bars. Although now, after seeing Audrey in her element, she wondered if Audrey received the academic and positive qualities both their biological parents must’ve had while Kendra was given the cold, dark sides, destined to live a life of deceit and loneliness.
“Your source?” Audrey prompted.
She blinked away the stray thought. “My source told me that the influence of the Pirate is pervasive. We don’t know who to trust.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re not saying you suspect Lee—”
“No, of course not. I trusted Lee with my life...and with my sister.” Kendra smiled and Audrey seemed appeased. “My request stands, though. Please don’t even tell him you’re leaving the campus. Maybe go to your parents for a visit but keep it low-key. Make sure they don’t announce it to anyone.”
“Well, I was pretty stressed last time I spoke to them.” She blew out a breath. “It wouldn’t be a stretch to tell them I was nearing burnout and just need some quiet R and R a few days earlier than planned. I was going to see them at the end of semester.”
Even the nightstand held a small Christmas tree. “I have to ask you, what’s with Christmas exploding in your place?”
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