WHEN THIS CASE ENDED, Monica intended to take a vacation to Yellowstone National Park. Rent a cabin, hike, take pics of buffalo, create memes for no one but herself, marvel at Old Faithful, fly-fish, and find time to sleep for a week. Or venture home and relax in the slower pace of rural Ohio. Until then, she’d catch a few hours’ rest at a time. At 3:00 a.m. Saturday, her head hit the pillow with a soft thud, only to be jarred upright again at 6:15 when her personal cell phone rang to the old tune of “Bad Boys.” Stumbling out of bed, she snatched it from inside her purse. Lori.
“Are you okay?”
“The question is you.”
“Why?”
“A man walked in right after we opened. Wanted to know about the short blonde. Said you and he’d been talking. When I told him you weren’t here, he asked for your number. I told him I couldn’t give it without your permission. Wanted to know when you’d be working. Told him you were on vacation. He said I was lying. Wanted to know how to find you. Again, I refused. He said to tell you he wasn’t stupid. You would pay. I called the police, but he left before they arrived.”
“I’m sure it was nothing. Maybe an admirer.”
“Doubt it.”
“Take a deep breath. Don’t worry about the guy unless he comes back. Had you seen him before?”
“No. Hope never again. He did write his number on a napkin, but I was nervous and forgot to give it to the police.”
The café camera would have his pic, but she needed the number. “Would you hold on to it for me?”
“Sure. Don’t you think I should give it to the police?”
“Not unless he returns. Why not stick it in the safe?”
“Good idea. Are you in town?”
“In and out.”
“I’m sorry to bother you. Afraid for your safety. The guy was freaky.”
“I’m fine, but I have no clue about him. You gave his description to the police?”
“Down to his bushy eyebrows.”
“An old man?”
“Our age, maybe. Dark-skinned. Medium height. I’ll let you go. Take care, sweet friend. Praying for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
Monica texted Jeff for the police report. She also wanted the camera footage inside Coffee Gone Dark. Was it just a coffee drinker who had a crush on a blonde? Or could the wrong person have figured out her cover? She’d be a fool to discount it, especially after Parvin Shah’s death.
Fully awake, Monica needed to sleep for a little while or she’d be worthless the rest of the day. She forced her mind into submission.
Her cell phone rang. Kord.
“How about a stroll in the garden?” he said. “I’m too wired to think about sleeping.”
“Looks like we’ll both survive on coffee today.”
“Meet you in the kitchen.”
After slipping into jeans and a sweatshirt, and tucking her weapon into her waistband along with a scarf in case they ran into bodyguards, she walked to the lower level and found Kord downing a bottle of water. They stepped out into the chilly early morning air. For once it wasn’t raining.
“Want to race to the gate?” she said.
“Nope. I want to clear my head, not lose to a girl.”
“So sad. Kord, the enemy is no longer ahead of us. They’re working on old information that ended with Shah’s death.”
“With all HPD, the FBI, and the CIA are doing, why haven’t we nailed this?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I asked Ali to reroute the limos for every excursion. And to arrange new bulletproof vehicles for each time we leave here. He’s sending the FBI any security footage of Prince Omar in Riyadh since the announcement was made of his trip to Houston.”
“What about his plans to lease oil reserves?”
He nodded. “I’ll add to it and include all those who were present when discussions were held. Saudi security is tight, so they should have it ready shortly.”
“I want to be walking the streets,” she said. “We’re both hands-on types.”
“Another reason why I wanted to talk.”
“Am I being interrogated?”
“I have a new mission.”
“Which is?”
“To haul you down off the ledge.”
Her heart thudded. “I’m on solid ground.”
“Not every mission works the way we intend,” Kord said.
“I’ve had my share of failures. Perfectionism is in my blood.”
“Try a transfusion. We aren’t 100 percent successful or right every time. The truth is, Liam Fielder played you from the start, and you didn’t lose that round. You won.”
So he had the complete file. “Really? How many innocent people were killed before he was brought down? I counted each man, woman, and child in that village, looked into their blank faces. None of them deserved the excruciating death.”
“Monica, that was his doing.” He’d used that same gentle tone with Princess Gharam.
“Still my fault for not seeing through his lies. When were you going to tell me you’d been briefed about that business? Or is this a result of overhearing me talking to Fatima and Yasmine?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Answer my question first.”
“I asked SAC Thomas for your file after Prince Omar mentioned it.”
Her face grew hot. “Do you still want to work with me?”
“Photographic memory. Three missions in the Middle East. Reads lips. Real kissable. Hot too. Sharpshooter. Brought down an arms deal here in Houston. Stopped bioterrorism in Tanzania and led the CIA to Liam Fielder. Impressive. I understand why you blame yourself for the victims, but if you hadn’t figured it out, how many others would have died?”
Jeff had told her to suck it up, get over it.
God offered peace while pinching her heart to forgive. Kord candy-coated the gruesome thing as though her nightmares would end with the snap of her fingers. She wanted to forgive Liam and herself, but discarding the truth seemed wrong.
“Kord, you weren’t there.”
“But I’ve experienced the horror of death. Back to my question. Do you trust me?”
She still cringed at the “trust me” request. But honesty prevailed —always. “I’m trying.”
“Good. I expect no less. Only a select few fall under the title of agent or operative. I can’t tell family members or friends about my job, and you live the same way —more so.”
“My family regrets I’m not a math professor at Stanford. Married to a political figure with one child and a dog of the opposite gender.”
“So they think you’re deprived?”
She laughed and sensed relaxation trickling through her.
“No, they’re Ohio farmers. Big-time growers of corn, wheat, and soybeans with an organic vegetable business. They feel sorry for my lack of success and coffee obsession. Dad would invest in a café in Ohio if I’d let him. But the important thing is we love each other unconditionally.”
“Siblings?”
“Four older brothers, all within the area —one farmer, one dentist, one accountant, and one high school football coach.”
“How were you recruited?”
Dare she reveal so much? “What’s the interest?”
“Collecting data.”
“Okay. Although the youngest, spoiled, and the recipient of beauty contest awards —” She gave him a feigned scowl. “Don’t even go there. Anyway, I also had an interest in economics, world politics, US security. Earned a scholarship at Ohio State, and I’m officially a loyal Buckeye fan. Upon graduation, a CIA recruiter approached me. After praying through the opportunity, I accepted.”
“What did you tell your family?”
“Needed to find myself, which took care of my stint in DC. When asked to work in Houston on a few assignments, I told my family about a desire to learn the coffee business.”
“How long will you be here?”
“Didn’t think I’d be in Houston this long. The city’s diversity, the shipping channel, Mexico, and continued growth makes it a hotbed of activity. But it could change at any time.”
“Ever thought of resigning?”
Liam sandblasted her mind. They’d planned to open a coffeehouse in Paris to ensure their cover. “Despite what happened, it’s the only thing I know. I suppose I’ll quit when I’m too old to keep the pace.”
“Does the secrecy bother you?”
She allowed a hint of her to slip. “Sometimes. But it’s where I’m supposed to be.”
“It still can be lonely,” he said.
Where was he going with this? “It’s a choice we make.”
“The God factor is the hardest for me to understand,” he said. “I’m trying there too.”
“Searching?”
He chuckled. “Let’s say hoping a God is real. Whenever humans are in charge, greed takes over.”
“I think for take-charge people like us, admitting faith in something we can’t see is the hardest decision we can make. But we’re not invisible to God.”
“Why are you a believer?”
How could she explain God when at times she had her own doubts? “I felt an unexplainable tug to follow Him. Deep. Personal. Intimate. Undeniable.” She struggled for words. “Kord, ask God to show Himself to you.”
“I have to believe to ask.”
“Think about it.”
He shrugged.
“Tell me, what about your family?”
“We were raised to be independent. Once we left home for college, that was it. Mom and Dad travel. And I have a brother.”
Sounded cold. “Are you close to them?”
“Talk to my brother quarterly. Have a calendar reminder to buzz me when it’s time. Haven’t seen him in over a year.”
“Someone special?”
In the shadows, she saw a grin. “Are you asking for yourself?”
“No thanks. I have Ali if I choose to go that route.”
“Right now my attention is on a mission, but I really like my partner.”
“So glad. Whom do you trust?”
“I learned from experience the time comes when we have to trust someone. Prince Omar and Zain took the role of family for me.”
“The company shrink encourages me to unleash my emotions.”
“I’m getting there. Is your handler a friend?”
She laughed. “Not hardly. Jeff and I barely tolerate each other.”
He stopped and turned her to face him. “I’m not Liam Fielder. I’m not out to get you, to set you up for a kill, to lie, or to betray our mission. Trust that we’re on the same side.”
Jeff had made the same statement. Had the two been comparing notes? “It’s difficult.”
“Isn’t God supposed to help with those things?”
She breathed in and out. “Kord, I have your back. Count on it. If I thought for one minute you shared any of Liam’s traits, I’d blow a hole through you.”