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  Ian stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Gina. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I thought it would endanger Nicholas or his family.”

  “Family?” she arched a brow.

  “My mother, a niece and a nephew. And we don’t have to worry about them. They’re in Switzerland right now. I have a live-in cook and housekeeper, and they’re specially trained in taking care of themselves, so…” An emotion glinted in his eyes but Gina couldn’t put a name to it. Then he looked away from her and over at Ian. “How’s that sister of yours?”

  “Carly’s great. I saw her just this morning. She offered to come stay with Gina last night to make sure the goons that are after her didn’t get anywhere close. Thankfully, it was a peaceful night.”

  “Well, come on inside. Let’s get you two settled. Do you have any luggage?”

  Ian opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a small carry-on-size suitcase. “I have this, but Gina doesn’t have a thing. Maybe your housekeeper could run out to the store to grab some things for us.”

  Those golden eyes tinged with green flecks turned back to her. “She’s about Miriam’s size. There’s probably something inside she can use.”

  The three passed through the door and stepped into a large foyer. Antiques adorned the area and Gina sucked in an appreciative breath. “Your home is beautiful.”

  Nicholas swung his gaze back to her. “Thanks. I built it for my wife.”

  “Miriam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she here?”

  Ian cleared his throat and Gina looked at him. “Um, Miriam died about a year ago, Gina.”

  Sorrow coated her. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  Nicholas’s gaze now held shutters. “I am, too. Thank you for your sympathy.” Then he blinked and the grief was gone from him. “Now, let’s see if we can get you comfortable. Stella! Where are you?”

  Gina looked at Ian and mouthed behind Nicholas’s back, “Stella?”

  He shrugged.

  Soon she had her answer. A tall, thin woman seemed to float into the foyer. She gave a quick glance to the visitors, then looked at Nicholas. “You bellowed?”

  “Yes. I told you we’d be having visitors. Are the rooms ready?”

  “Indeed. Follow me.”

  Nicholas spoke up. “After you get settled, you can use the conference room to work on whatever it is you need to work on. There’s a computer with Internet access, a fax machine, the works. Help yourselves. I’m going back to study a difficult case I’m trying next week. Then we’ll meet back up again for lunch. Is that all right with everyone?”

  Ian nodded. “Do you have to be in court anytime soon?”

  Those shutters descended over his eyes again. “No, I’ve taken some time off of other cases so I can work on this one right now. It’s pretty intense.” With an abrupt nod, he turned and exited the room.

  Gina breathed a sigh of relief. As much as she appreciated this man’s hospitality and safe haven, she wanted to get back to the whole reason she was here.

  Finding out what it was someone wanted and who it was that wanted it.

  Thirty minutes later, after a shower and a change of clothing, she emerged from her room and managed to locate the conference room, making only one wrong turn in the process.

  She entered the room and took in the sight. It was very tastefully decorated. A cherry table dominated the center of the floor. Surrounding it were twelve comfortable office chairs.

  Ian sat at one end, his nose buried in a file.

  He looked up at her approach.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  “I snitched a few things from the supply closet.” He held up a notepad and pen. “I’m making notes on who to call, what we know, what we have questions about and where I think we might find the answers.”

  “An organization freak.”

  He grinned. “Some things never change.”

  “And some things do.” She slid into the chair next to Ian.

  He sobered. “Yeah, they do.”

  “What happened to Miriam?”

  “She was killed in a car wreck.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Nicholas’s sister, Janice, was with her. They were killed instantly.”

  “Oh, my. Is that why his niece and nephew live with him?”

  “Yeah. They were staying with Nicholas’s mother when the crash happened. A drunk driver.”

  “What about their father?”

  “Janice was divorced. He left one day about five years ago and never came back, never called, nothing. It’s like he disappeared from the face of the earth. I even tried finding him and had no luck. He has one other sister who has three children of her own and just couldn’t take in more. Nick never hesitated in accepting the responsibility.”

  “Poor Nicholas.”

  “I know. But he’s working through it, I think. It’s hard to tell with him. Anyway, let’s go over that note Mario left you. I feel like we’re missing something here.”

  “Sure.” She slid it from her pocket and took a deep breath. If they were missing something, she couldn’t fathom what it might be.

  Mario meant something by that note—Ian was sure of it. The man didn’t do anything without a purpose, and if he’d taken the time to write a letter to Gina, he’d have made it mean more than what it looked like on the surface.

  She spread the letter out before her and he watched a dark curl slip down to cover her left eye. He wanted to give it a tug so he could watch it spring back into place.

  But he couldn’t. He had to focus, find out who meant her harm. And what had Mario been doing the last few weeks of his life.

  So, the first step. “Gina, the only way I’m going to be able to figure out what was going on with Mario is to do a full investigation, talk to the guys in the unit and our commanding officer, Mac Gold.”

  A frown furrowed her forehead. “But Mario thought one of them was a traitor. If you talk to them, how will you know that what they’re telling you is the truth? I mean, if one of them had anything to do with Mario’s death, he’s not going to just come out and say so just because you’re asking.”

  Ian rubbed a hand across his mouth and blew out a sigh. “I’ve got to be honest. I can’t see any of those guys being a traitor.”

  Her gaze pierced him. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to them?”

  Ouch. Okay, she had a point. “It’s been a while. But—” he held up a finger “—I’ve talked to Mac on a regular basis since I left the unit. He and I have always been close, and he was the only one who didn’t give me a hard time when I…” he murmured.

  Gina looked away. “Yeah.”

  “Anyway, I’ll give Mac a call and see if he has anything he can add to Mario’s activities just before his death.”

  Worry had her fingering the gold locket. He watched her tug and twist on the fragile chain until he couldn’t take it anymore. He reached over and covered her hand with his. “Relax, Gina. I’m going to take care of you.”

  Her eyes locked on his as her hand dropped from her throat. “Mario trusted you for some reason, in spite of the fact that he felt your leaving was a desertion of the unit. And I trust Mario…. At least I did.” She stood and paced to the door. Hand on the knob, she turned back. “So, I guess that means I have to trust you by default. Please don’t make me regret it.”

  SEVEN

  Four hours later, having nibbled on a turkey sandwich and chips provided by his host’s cook, Ian sat back and rubbed his burning eyes. He’d checked on Gina right after lunch, and she’d been stretched across her bed, sound asleep.

  Ian had decided to let her catch up a bit on her rest and returned to his phone calls and information gathering. Unfortunately, he’d not managed to acquire much of anything new, a fact that left him feeling frustrated and helpless. Tossing his pen down on the notepad, he groaned out loud and stood to pace over to the window.

  Waves crashed silently beyond the other side of the glass as t
he sun dipped to touch the water.

  It had been a long day.

  And they still didn’t know much.

  “Hey.”

  He turned with a start to find Gina standing in the doorway blinking away remnants of sleep. He fought the urge to go to her and pull her into his arms. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “Do you feel better?”

  She stepped into the room and gave a pointed glance to the paperwork in front of him. “Yes, if a bit guilty that you’ve been working all this time.”

  He waved away her concern. “It’s fine. You’ve had a few stressful moments lately. You needed the sleep.”

  A crooked smile curved her lips. “Yes, stressful would be a good word.” She slipped into the chair next to him, close enough for him to catch a whiff of the scent that was uniquely her—a mix of cinnamon and some kind of spice. She smelled like Christmas. He concentrated on her words.

  “So, I take it you’ve made a few phone calls.”

  “A few.” He nodded.

  “What did your old commanding officer, Mac, have to say?”

  “That he knew of a few things Mario was working on but would have to get back to me. He was taking a short break to visit his son.”

  “His son?”

  “Yeah, Jimmy.”

  “I’ve known Mac for a while now. How did I not know he had a son?” She tried to remember if the subject had ever come up.

  Ian looked up at her. “It’s not something he talks about a lot. Jimmy’s twenty-five or-six now and lives in an adult group home. He’s a mentally challenged adult. Down syndrome, I think.”

  Gina asked indignantly, “Is he ashamed of him?”

  “No, that’s not it. I think he just feels guilty that he doesn’t spend more time with him. And talking about it reinforces that fact. So he just…doesn’t say anything.”

  “Amazing.”

  “What?”

  “That you can know someone and—not know them.”

  “In addition to not spending a whole bunch of time with him, I think Mac also feels a little guilty about putting Jimmy in the home. His marriage fell apart then when his ex died a few years ago, he didn’t have any relatives stepping up to help out and he still had to make a living….” He shrugged.

  “Poor Mac.”

  “Jimmy’s fine. The home is some swanky ranch-type place where they have a lot of animals for the clients. Jimmy’s happy and I think Mac made the right decision. He thinks he did, too, and is getting used to the idea. But he goes out there just about every chance he gets to visit.”

  “So, that’s where he is now.” She spread her hands, palms up. “We hurry up and wait?”

  “Something like that.”

  Gina blew out a sigh and pulled out a piece of paper. Laying it on the table, she smoothed it out, pressing it, running her fingers over the crinkles.

  Ian raised a brow. “Is that the letter?”

  “Yes.” She kept her gaze on the words in front of her.

  “Do you mind if I look at it?”

  She lifted sad eyes to his. “No, I don’t mind.” She passed it over to him, her fingers grazing his as he took the letter from her. Emotion speared him at the brief touch. His gaze held hers. “I’m not a traitor, Gina, no matter what you think.”

  She blinked but didn’t break eye contact. “It doesn’t really matter what I think. Mario trusted you in the end, so that’s all that matters.”

  Raw grief nearly cut him in two, and the strength of it shocked him. He wanted to tell her why he had left, wanted to with everything in him, but…now wasn’t the time.

  She might not believe him anyway.

  And the truth might send her running from him, which would cause a whole new set of problems.

  Like how he would keep her safe if she refused to be around him.

  No, he’d wait to tell her his heart. Possibly forever.

  Time passed slowly for Gina as they worked on trying to discover what Mario had been up to right before his death. Ian spent every waking moment on the laptop or the phone Jase had delivered to him, and Gina knew he was desperately searching for any information on Mario.

  The next day, they finally caught a break. Mac Gold called with news about something Mario had been working on.

  Ian activated the speakerphone button so Gina could listen in, too.

  “Go ahead, Mac. I’ve got Gina here with me.”

  A heavy sigh sounded over the line and Gina shot Ian a worried look. He covered her hand with his, and she sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact. But her heart warmed at his attempt at comfort. She gave a tremulous smile and turned her attention to Mac’s words.

  “Look, it’s not pretty and I can’t confirm a lot of it—yet. But it looks like Mario was working on some kind of a gunrunning investigation.”

  “I don’t understand,” Gina broke in. “You were his commanding officer. Wouldn’t you know what he was working on?”

  A slight pause. “Not if he was doing something on his own.”

  Ian closed his eyes and rubbed them. “All right, so he got some information about gun runners, then possibly went undercover to make sure it was right. They caught on to him and tried to kill him, but he got away long enough to put Gina’s life in danger. But why wouldn’t he ask for help? That’s the part I don’t get. Why wouldn’t he bring the team in on it?”

  “I don’t have the answer to that question. But you do have a reasonable theory. However, it could be that somehow he was involved with these guys, made them mad about something, possibly took something that didn’t belong to him, and now they’re after it.”

  “Mario wouldn’t betray his country, Mac.” The steel in Ian’s voice surprised Gina. The man truly didn’t believe Mario would do anything illegal. Relief flooded her. She so wanted Mario to be innocent of any wrongdoing.

  Mac’s voice echoed through the room. “I don’t want to believe it either, Masterson, but I don’t have enough proof to go either way. He wasn’t under my command with what he was found to be investigating. That raises a red flag for me.”

  “Right.” Ian sighed and said, “What did the others in the unit have to say? Did they tell you anything more?”

  “Not much. Just confirmed what I just told you. I did all this via phone, since I’m still out here with Jimmy. I’ll be back in my office in a few hours, and I’ll be able to keep pressing from there. I’ll talk to each of my men face-to-face but don’t know that I’ll be able to turn up much of anything else.”

  “Okay, thanks, Mac. Tell Jimmy I said hello.”

  “Will do. Good luck and call if you need anything. I’ll be in touch.”

  They hung up and Ian turned to Gina. “What do you think? Does any of that ring a bell?”

  She shook her head and shifted in her chair. “No, none of it. But that doesn’t surprise me. Mario would never share details of a case with me. Ever. Not even when I asked.”

  Ian rubbed his chin. “No, he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. All right, then, let me show you one more thing I did.”

  “What?”

  She leaned in closer while he tapped on the keys of the laptop in front of him and breathed in his clean scent. He’d taken the time to shower.

  You’re not here to notice how good he smells. Focus.

  Ian brought up a series of letters and numbers on the screen. “I accessed my high-security clearance account and input the letter Mario left you. I was looking for some kind of code.”

  “A code?”

  “Sure, we come across them all the time in our line of work. It wouldn’t have been any trouble for Mario to come up with one off the top of his head and leave it for you to find. Plus, you know how he loved puzzles and such. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “And nothing. I ran it through the military-grade software for code breaking, so to speak, and nothing.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “It means that the lette
r is just…a letter.”

  “So, no code?”

  “Nope, no code. Unless it’s in the wording and something only you can understand. Which is what I’ve thought from the very beginning. So the ball’s back in your court. It’s up to you to find any hidden meanings in Mario’s words.”

  She took the letter from his outstretched hand, this time careful to make sure she had no contact with him. The knowing look in his eyes made her flush, but she ignored it and her reaction to him by looking down at the familiar handwriting. Guilt pierced her. Here she was trying to elude someone who wanted her dead, working on figuring out what her fiancé had been up to, and she found herself attracted to a man Mario had actually cursed.

  Gina stood and walked to the door. “All right. I’ll just, um, take this back to my room and study it some more.” Which would be a waste of time, since she had the thing memorized at this point, but she needed to escape and it was as good enough an excuse as any other she might try to come up with.

  “Right, you do that. After supper, Nicholas has volunteered to go over some of this with me tonight and see if his fresh eyes can spot something mine can’t.”

  “Go over what?” She paused, hand on the doorknob.

  “He going to dig into some legal stuff, court cases and bad guys that Mario helped bust. He had an idea that whoever is after you might be a family member, or something, of someone Mario either, um, killed or put in jail.”

  Darkness seemed to shroud her for a moment. “I know something was haunting him, something that just wouldn’t leave him alone…. And he didn’t know what to do with it.”

  Ian stood and avoided her eyes. “Yeah, we all have stuff like that.”

  Gina retraced her steps back across the room to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, Ian.” Then she left and made her way to her bedroom, her thoughts racing, the words from Mario’s letter burning in her mind.

  What could he have meant? She flopped onto the bed, ignored her growling stomach, and studied it one more time. What kind of message could he have hidden in this straightforward-sounding letter?

  Line by line she went through it again. Time passed as she concentrated, trying to put new meaning to the words.

  Nothing. She closed her eyes and tried putting a picture with each line in the letter. Tried to visualize it.