Page 49 of Laura's Truth
When the women left the kitchen, eager to start on the fun part of their plan, Ross looked to Rick and Garner. “Now that they’re gone and can’t accuse us of being cavemen, let’s fine tune a few protective details.”
He caught the quick flash of surprise on Garner’s face. “Problem?”
“Not at all.” He raised his coffee mug in a toast. “I knew you were smart, but I have to give you bonus points for wisdom.”
“Comes with the territory,” Ross said. “Being attached to an independent woman will keep you up at night in more ways than one.”
Rick agreed with a nod and a snort.
“You’ll see,” Ross said. He couldn’t be sure exactly what was lurking beneath the chemistry and sparks, but it seemed like a safe bet that Laura and Garner had more than a professional stake in this dangerous game.
He just hoped Garner wasn’t using her.
Chapter 10
Drew hadn’t seen Laura since she’d left Haleswood in a flurry of feminine energy. After giving his statement and staging a hang-dog walk to the official vehicle transporting him back to Charleston for Hackett and the media, he’d been anxious to lay eyes on her. The text message updates from Eva weren’t enough.
But here he was, still playing along. Ross’s team had managed to get him back to Charleston without any problem. Rather than the quiet of the bed and breakfast on the Battery, he’d checked into the hotel room on the Isle of Palms Eva had arranged. He’d thrown the lock, tossed his bag onto the bed and immediately started second guessing every moment of the past days, particularly the past twenty-four hours. But soon the tuxedo had arrived and the tickets too, and the plan was progressing too fast to put the brakes on now.
He leaned into the hot spray of the shower, wondering just what the hell Ross, Laura, and the rest of them thought they could prove here.
They were using Laura, now officially Mrs. Ketterly, as bait. He didn’t care that she was willing. Didn’t care that it was the right play. It felt wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. His increasing resistance to a good plan had him wondering if he’d lost his edge.
Since his less-than-lasting death, Drew had employed every trick and tactic to document and, when possible, interrupt or impede Hackett’s exploits and ventures. He knew how ruthless the bastard could be. Knew this time he’d pull out every stop to save his sorry hide.
Drew turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. He scrubbed it across his hair, dried off, and cinched it around his hips. He couldn’t obsess over Hackett and still complete his role in the Cypress Security team’s plan.
He swiped the steam from the mirror and faced the hard truth. He and Hackett were the same. Not even different sides of one coin, but the same ugly side. He knew what Hackett would do, how he’d respond because at some point in the recent past, he’d resorted to similar actions himself.
Doing bad deeds for a good cause didn’t lift the responsibility or change the penalties for those bad deeds. When he’d entered the CIA, he’d accepted that on a philosophical level, but it wasn’t until he’d made some hard gray-area calls in the field that he’d discovered the sharp teeth of that philosophy, felt the deep, lasting venom in that bite.
Pursuing Hackett had dulled the pain of that bite. Until now.
He stared at his face, the lines fanning from his eyes and the deeper brackets around his mouth, the faint scars near his hairline. He could still go out there and take care of Hackett on his own, just as he’d intended all along.
And Laura would arrest him without a second thought. Worse, she’d never forgive him. He could hardly believe it mattered so much.
They were putting Laura out there with a target on her back without much more than a fervent prayer that Hackett’s aim would falter. That’s how fragile the plan felt. Not a good sign, but he recognized the insidious voice of fear for what it was: a useless impediment.
Who cared that Hacket had missed his mark only once in Drew’s memory—his own narrow escape? Drew had the edge, and with it the hope that learning of his survival rattled Hackett and irritated him enough to throw off his aim.
Forget the how and why, he coached his reflection. Do it because. There was only one reason: Laura. For her, Drew would be a team player. He’d do this job to the best of his ability, clearing her name, restoring her career, and guaranteeing her lasting safety. It would be, he realized, the first truly selfless thing he’d managed in years. Where he went next, assuming he survived, was anyone’s guess.
On that familiar, strangely comforting thought, he sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the cell phone once more.
Leaning forward, elbows on knees, he sent the text message they’d so carefully drafted. When the reply came back, he forwarded it to the number Eva had provided. That done, he dressed for the evening and the dicey task ahead.
Chapter 11
Being an esteemed Citadel professor came with prestige and perks, the most important of which was a rock-solid alibi, Hackett thought, as he spent the day with his classes, accepting term papers and administering final exams. Behind the calm façade, he waited impatiently for word that the job was complete.
With Aziz eliminated, Garner had no one left to back up his claims, should he choose to make any. Refusing to correct the rumors of his death would paint him as an unreliable witness, despite his previous credentials with the CIA. If the situation deteriorated that much.
Hackett didn’t like entertaining near-failure, but he had to cover every contingency. He would see that it didn’t happen. Between classes, he checked in with his source at the Charleston PD. “Any word on the woman who shot my friends?”
To his shock, the reply was positive. “I’m reading through her statement now.”
“What statement?”