Recovered secrets, p.10
Recovered Secrets, page 10
Was he toying with her? “All right. How’ve you been, Hector? Me? I’ve been roughed up, left for dead and stuck with amnesia for the past two years.”
The man had hiding his emotions down to a fine art. Not even a tick of his cheek. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Imagine my surprise when two of your men tried to drown me in a ditch if I didn’t give them the location of the doctor.” She told him how she’d connected the dots that led her here.
Hector rubbed his chin. “Let’s say I believe you. What do you want? You think I sent men to kill you? You have proof that they work for me? Many Hispanic men in the world, Valentina.”
“Seems odd, though, doesn’t it? That two men show up wanting the doctor...a doctor who worked many years in Bogota, where you happened to live and own a lab where that doctor worked on the side. Please, stop playing games. I need to figure out who I am. And you, Hector—you’re the only tangible link to my identity.”
He tipped his head to the side and seemed to consider her plea. What did he know? Would he tell her?
“We met in a nightclub at a resort in Belize. You were exquisite in that red dress. Caught my eye immediately.” He seemed angry at that memory. “It was a whirlwind affair.”
Her stomach knotted.
“You came to my home. You lived with me.”
“And?”
“You want details?”
She worked to not curl her lip. “I want details about me. What did I tell you? Where did I say I came from?”
“Why? None of it was true. I checked.” Hector sighed. “Not even your name. All lies.”
Same thing Peter Rainey said. It had all been lies. But what exactly?
“Did I betray you?” She licked her bottom lip. This man had the power to kill her, to blow up her car—if it had been under his orders to do so. He wasn’t the only one trying to murder her.
Hector leaned forward and she flinched. His expression turned amused. “Maybe you do suffer memory loss.”
“I am telling you the truth now. If I had my memories, don’t you think I’d have handled your men myself? Not come here to get you to admit to trying to kill me. It doesn’t matter. You’re in prison either way.”
“You did not betray me because what we had was never real. I blame myself for falling into the trap.” He shrugged. “But I did have a very good time.”
She ignored his statement. He was trying to get under her skin and it was working. “So, I never flipped on you and went into witness protection?”
He laughed. “Valentina, please.” He waved her question off as if it were preposterous.
“Then who am I? And if I lied to you, how do you know I’m not in WITSEC?”
“I don’t. For certain. But this I do know. When I left for the States to aid my sister-in-law, I left you behind at the estate. One day later, DEA showed up, but before you and Patsy could be taken into their custody—before they could infiltrate the lab—it went up in a blaze and you and she disappeared. Like wind. I didn’t even know you’d escaped until loyal men of mine confessed you and she were gone.”
What did this mean? That she had some inside information that the DEA were coming and she needed to run? “What were you making in that lab? Why was she helping you? Why would I escape with her? If I even did.”
He reached across the table and stroked her hand. She pulled it away. “I think, Valentina, the better question is why did you happen to be at that nightclub—that resort—when I was? How did you know the kinds of things I’d like—including women in red? Why did you agree to come and live with me? How did you escape before the DEA even saw your face, and flee the country with the doctor? And better yet, why would you run from Bogota to little ole Mississippi? Not even a big city. But a small town. These men after you...they have yet to find the doctor after two whole years. Who would look in Mississippi? And even when they did—there was no clue.”
Grace’s heart beat wildly.
“You know what I discovered about you, after you left and I realized you were not who you said you were?”
“What?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” He leaned in. “I even had things you touched searched for fingerprints and a hairbrush sent to a private lab—for a price. Valentina...you do not exist in this world. How can that be?” He cocked his head, studied her face. “Even if you were a federal agent of any kind, that extensive DNA testing would give answers to me.”
Grace didn’t exist. Nothing at all, not even a birth record had popped when he got ahold of her DNA?
“Who can make that kind of thing happen?”
“Major criminals?” she almost choked saying it. Was she so vile that someone with hacking skills had erased her from everything?
“Possibly but unlikely. Why take the doctor?”
She wasn’t sure that she had. Hector seemed to believe it, though. “I don’t know.”
“Valentina, you’re a spy.”
The words overwhelmed her. “Like James Bond?”
He splayed his hands. “I suspect. You’re not DEA or you wouldn’t have set my lab on fire.”
“Who says I did?”
“I have eyes, Valentina, in all places and at all times.”
“Not enough to see me run or where I tucked the doctor, if I tucked her anywhere,” she muttered.
Hector relaxed in his chair. “I always liked that spicy tongue. You torched my lab. You didn’t want the DEA to find the research there.”
“The toxin they were working on?”
He shrugged. He’d be stupid to admit that was what he was making even though the scientists taken into custody testified to it—at least they speculated.
If what he was saying was true, then it was possible she’d been sent to recover that toxin and all its research so he couldn’t use it. It must have been deadlier than just able to harm some poppy crops.
“I see you’re connecting dots.”
“What was that toxin going to do?”
“Everything I do makes me rich, Valentina. Even inside these walls, I am rich and powerful.”
“Call off your men. I don’t know where the doctor is.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” His smirk disagreed. “But if I did—hypothetically—I might be willing to tighten their leash, but not when it comes to finding Dr. Sayer. She did not leave without some of that research, I assure you. And while I may be in here, I still continue to have control over my empire, which means I’d still want that particular toxin. Hypothetically, of course.”
“To ruin crops?”
“For what I want? Yes. Again—hypothetically—it could be much more dangerous. Deadly. It would be worth sending in a CIA agent who is cunning and smart and able to handle herself with a man like myself to retrieve it. Who knows? Maybe you have it, Valentina. Not Dr. Sayer. Maybe you killed her so she couldn’t recreate it.” His smile sent a chill along her spine. “I imagine you’ve killed often, James Bond.”
That was it. She’d heard enough. “If I find out you’re lying—”
“You’ll what? Kill me too? Careful who you threaten, mujer hermosa.”
Grace stood and walked away.
“No kiss goodbye?”
She exited to the sound of Hector’s laughter.
If Hector was right, Grace was on the right team. A good guy who had done terrible things—immoral and corrupt things—to infiltrate monstrous people. To protect the citizens of America—the world? The idea ought to make her feel better, but it didn’t. Not at all.
Grace probably wasn’t a person of faith before her accident. Would she have ever chosen a faith-filled life if she hadn’t taken a fall and lost her memories? If her slate hadn’t been wiped clean?
She had no idea but at the moment, her blank mind felt more like a blessing than a downfall. Lord, I trust You to make something good of this. I suppose You already have. I’m scared I might slip into old ways if my memories return—I’ve been doing some bad things now. I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle all the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt. And where is all this rage and anger coming from? What could I possibly be so mad about? Please show me what to do.
Hollis rose from a gray bench, worry in his eyes. “Well? Anything useful?” He pulled her to his chest and held tight. “How are you holding up?”
Grace wrapped her arms around his strong back and clung to him, letting all his strength seep into her. She was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. From the confusion, running for her life, being repeatedly attacked and living in day-to-day uncertainty. “Let’s get out of here and we’ll talk.”
She needed to get out of this prison—and the one that held her life hostage.
* * *
Hollis remained silent as he escorted Grace to his truck. Her conversation with Hector had rattled her further. More than anything, Hollis wanted to make this debacle go away, wanted to help rescue her memories so she could sort out her life and move forward.
Except that moving on might be away from Cottonwood and Hollis.
He’d be losing his best friend.
Grace was who he called first when he heard something funny, when he was in a rotten mood and needed his spirits lifted, the first person he wanted to share good news with and even bad news, like when his sister, Greer, had been hunted by a killer. Who would he share these things with if she left?
Maybe she wouldn’t leave to return to a life of crime—no way—but when her memories surfaced, she might want a bigger life. In a bigger place.
Just like Mary Beth.
Grace might want to leave to “find herself” too. Where would that leave Hollis?
Alone.
And if he were honest, heartbroken. He’d tried to keep his heart fortified, to keep Grace from burrowing into it, lodging there. Hollis had done a pitiful job. Because that’s what she’d done—made a home there. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.
Right now, nothing. The only thing he knew to do to protect himself was to get some distance, but that was impossible. Grace needed him. He needed to keep her safe.
Once they were inside the truck and moving onto the interstate, Grace shared her conversation with Hector. Hollis listened quietly, filing away the information and trying to discern if this drug lord was sending her down a wild trail. After Grace finished, Hollis agreed that Hector’s theory of Grace being CIA seemed more plausible than anything else when all the tedious facts were considered, especially about the DNA. They’d run fingerprints and nothing had popped. But if her fingerprints were never in the system for anything, including a background check, then there would be no reason for Grace to appear. But the lengths that Hector had gone to...something should have turned up if only minuscule.
“Help me make some sense of this, Hollis. If I’m a CIA agent, then why haven’t they found me? Been able to track me?” She laid her head against the seat and groaned. “All I know about spy stuff is what I’ve seen watching movies and TV with you.”
“If they think you died, they’d wipe you out of the system. Not that you’d have been in a system to be found anyway. The kind of agent you might have been would be top secret.” What he didn’t tell her was if the CIA was responsible for leaving her for dead then that could be a reason they hadn’t descended and why no information—not even false cover information—existed on her. She’d been burned. But why would the CIA want her eliminated?
Peter Rainey must have been CIA too. The way he stole cars, extracted rental information and then said he’d betrayed her. Before he could reveal any truth, he’d been assassinated and not likely by Hector’s men. Maybe the good guys weren’t as good as they should be.
Grace picked at her nails. “Let’s say I am a spy. I was undercover to get intel. Then I got it. Burned the place after taking the research and toxin so the DEA or bad guys wouldn’t get it and I left with Dr. Sayer. What happened between leaving Colombia and making it to Mississippi? If I was bringing her to a safe house, who intervened? Followed me? Tried to kill me? And where is that research or toxin—or both? And where is Dr. Sayer now?”
“Truth?” He glanced over to see her wheels turning. “I don’t think Hector’s men would have followed you from Colombia. Hector said he didn’t even know you were gone at first—until one of the men discovered it. And he was in a mess of his own here in the States and unable to give commands. So, that means—”
“Whoever tried to kill me in the shed—most likely who killed Peter—was an agent and Peter probably was too. Dirty agents? Or...was I?” Grace’s lip trembled. “Even if I was on the winning team, I did terrible things, Hollis. I don’t know if I can forgive myself for that.”
Hollis understood guilt. Even in war, on covert missions, people died and while it was part of it—part of fighting evil men—it always took a toll. Those men haunted him at times, especially at night when he was alone with his thoughts. In the quiet. Grace would have to deal with her past, but now she had a way to do that—the same way as Hollis. God. Even when it felt like Hollis was alone, he never truly was, and neither was Grace.
“Let’s deal with that when we know the truth. Don’t feel guilty over something you aren’t even certain about.”
“I am certain I had a relationship with a drug lord and murderer.”
She’d probably been undercover and yes, compromised her morals—if she even had any prior to the amnesia. “Grace, you are not the same person. I’ve said it once and I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. You can’t change the past, not the circumstances or your choices. All you can do is make better decisions and live honestly now. I mean, think about it. God knew all you did in Colombia and before that. And yet, He still rescued your heart when you walked down that aisle and cried out for Him to be your Lord and Savior. He saved you, Grace. By grace. You didn’t know what you’d done—but He did. And He loved you anyway.”
Grace’s eyes filled with tears and she bit her bottom lip.
“He doesn’t want you or me or anyone wallowing in our messed up past. Ask for forgiveness, change your ways and live a life that honors Him. That’s how I manage. I’ve done things that condemn me too.”
“I guess I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”
Hollis chuckled but only because he understood so well that feeling. “Honey, none of us deserve that kind of love, mercy or grace. That’s why it’s a gift. Open it up like a Christmas present and enjoy it.” He clasped her hand, and she squeezed his.
“You’re a good, good man, Hollis. A godly man. I admire you so much.”
“We got about an hour before we get home. You go right ahead and keep up the sweet talk. I like it.” He winked and she laughed. A real laugh. Exactly what he wanted to see lighting up her face. No more guilt. No more heavy talk. At least for an hour.
But those words wiggled into his heart and warmed it.
They listened to the radio, went to a drive-thru and purchased coffees and muffins, then pulled in at the SAR facility. Hollis was cautious and swept the place, making sure it was secure. A couple of volunteers were doing some training with the dive equipment.
Grace followed Hollis into his office and plopped on the small leather sofa against the wall. Hollis chose his office chair. “What do you wanna do, Grace?”
“I want to find Dr. Sayer.”
“Me too. If you did hide her and she’s remained there for this long, you hid her well. Remind me not to ever play hide-and-seek with you.”
She rubbed her locket and grabbed one of the throw pillows he used to nap on. “Can you call Wilder at CCM? See if his analyst can do some deep, dark digging. I know if I’m a CIA agent, it’s practically impossible but on the off chance...?”
Hollis nodded and made the call to Wilder. He answered on the second ring.
“Hollis, any news?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually.”
“Hold on.” The sound of a door opening and closing filtered through the line, then heavy footsteps—like work boots on wood—then a knock. “I’m in the control room with Wheezer. Gonna put you on Speaker. Go ahead.”
He gave him the rundown of the day and the information.
Hollis put Wilder on Speaker too.
Keys clicking against a keyboard came to life. “I’m going to do a search on Valentina Sanchez,” Wheezer said. “Add keywords like your description, locations... Hector...” The clacking noise was faster than lightning.
“What’s that on monitor six?” Wilder asked Wheezer.
How many monitors did this guy use?
“A pretty lady, but not Grace,” Wheezer replied and continued clacking. “Hector clearly liked lovely women.”
Grace’s cheeks turned red.
“Nothing is hitting, guys. Sorry. I can go even deeper, see if I can snag an image of Hector with you and follow that, but if you worked for the CIA and they burned you—not even I can find you.”
“Any other news on Dr. Sayer?” Hollis asked.
“I’ve been working to trace her in the past two years, but she’s off the grid. Major off. Which means someone has helped her become a ghost or she’s dead. We did find a bank account. She withdrew every single penny six months before she disappeared.”
“Seems like she knew she was going to need money,” Hollis said. Did Grace or someone else forewarn her? “How much was it?”
“A hundred and fifty grand. But two thousand dollars were regularly withdrawn each month for about two decades prior. The money went to a home in Atlanta for the physically challenged. Dr. Sayer had a younger sister with cerebral palsy. We called and found out that her sister’s account was prepaid for five years, but she passed away about six months ago. No one claimed the body, or the money. It’s in a private account that was set up by Patsy. She either has no idea her sister died because she’s not making contact and there is no way of contacting her, or she knows but thought it too dangerous to reach out for the body, the money or anything—including a funeral. Peggy—her sister—was cremated.”
