Page 6 of Laura's Truth

Nonsense. She could more than hold her own in a fight, the result of their latest encounter notwithstanding. In the relative privacy of the churchyard, she wouldn’t be distracted by potential collateral damage to innocent bystanders. If he wanted her dead, she’d make him work for it.

“I won’t harm you,” a low tenor voice seeped through the shadows to her left. “We should talk this out.”

“You just turned down a perfect opportunity.”

“The store was too public.”

“Fine.” Hadn’t she made a similar argument in her mind? She wondered who he thought was watching them. And how could she get him to reveal his purpose? “Go on then. Start talking.”

“Holster your weapon.” This time his voice was accompanied by a soft rustle of leaves as he stepped into view.

His blond hair, in need of a trim and dappled with sunlight, gave him a halo he didn’t deserve. Why couldn’t the light have cooperated when she’d been trying to spot that thick, bright hair out on the street? She couldn’t tell if she liked him better this way or with the brown hair he’d had when he died while they were all rooting out terrorists in the mountains on the other side of the world. His hands were loose at his sides, his hat gone and jacket tied loosely at his waist. All in all, it was a nice show of unarmed good faith.

With deliberate care, she shoved the gun back into the nylon webbing of her holster, grateful he didn’t ask her to empty it or kick it away or something equally absurd.

“You’re alone?”

Grim doubt edged his words and the question floated in the humid air between them. She held up her hands. “We both know I am.” If he’d found her cell number, then he must already know she’d taken leave from her training post at Fort Bragg. In the past half hour, he must have run everything possible on her. She didn’t like that. Didn’t like that he remembered her. She liked being impressed with his resourcefulness even less.

“You had good help over at the market. That candy spill was inspired.”

Candy spill? News to her, but she couldn’t admit it without looking inept. It was something she’d pass on to Ross so Eva could research it. At the time, she’d grabbed the broom just to keep him from bolting. The failure to contain and control him irritated her. “Why shouldn’t I haul you in?”

“Good luck with that.”

“You surprised me once.” Thank God no one she knew had been around to give her crap for the mistake. “Won’t happen again.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

Great. A pissing match with a spy turned ghost. “What do you want, Off— Andrew?” She stopped short before she gave him the respect of the title he’d once held.

“Time.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Three days. After that, win or lose, I’m out.”

“Of Charleston?”

“Out of the United States and all her territories. For good.”

A surprising offer. One that would certainly please Ross and his team. And her, though she didn’t believe it would be that simple even if she had the authority to grant his request. “I suppose you expect me to give you carte blanche to cause trouble in the meantime.”

His short laugh sounded rusty and out of practice to her ears. “It’d be nice.”

She crossed her arms and looked into those dark blue eyes. “I guess that depends on what you want to do with your time.”

“I’m not here for revenge.”

“Yay,” she said with zero excitement, zero belief. “Convince me.”

“I don’t hold grudges. Too much baggage to lug around.”

“Of course you don’t,” she said, ignoring his grumbling reaction to her sarcasm. “But others do.” She watched his mouth flatten and his eyebrows draw close into a frown. He took a deep breath and she could practically hear him counting to ten in his head.

“Carpenter sent you.” His shoulders rolled back.

“You know he did.”