LITMIR.BIZ

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track.” Gray sat as still as an art-class model. He could not let Falconer know how much he wanted to lead the retrieval team.

      Falconer frowned at him. “This isn’t multiple choice.”

      “I’ll track.” Be firm. Keep it cool. “I know how to find her.”

      Falconer contemplated him with his hard eyes and sharp face. Without breaking eye contact, he said, “Harper, you’ll go undercover. Mercer, you’ll help Reed track.”

      “I can track alone. No sweat.”

      “That’s all, gentlemen,” Falconer announced. “Check your PDAs for updates. Reed, stay behind.”

      Four sets of curious eyes appraised him as they filed out.

      After Kingsley closed the door, Falconer sat on the corner of the conference table. “How much sleep have you had?”

      Gray flashed him a smile. “You know me. I can sleep anywhere. I got some shut-eye on the plane.”

      “It cuts close to home.”

      “I know.”

      “Can you handle going back?”

      The strange thing about Falconer was that he asked for everything and somehow you felt compelled to give it to him. He knew the deep, dark secrets of each of his team’s men. But the courtesy didn’t extend both ways. He was still a mystery to them. But there was trust. And that said a lot. Falconer knew about Echo Falls, knew about the strained relationship between him and his sister, Brynna, knew the hard time he’d had surviving the unforgiving label of coward branded onto him by small-town narrow-mindedness.

      But he didn’t know about Abbie. Gray had never told a soul about Abbie.

      Gray leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, arms splayed wide—the image of relaxation. “Yeah, I can handle going back. That’s why I took your job offer in the first place.” Sort of.

      Falconer turned the remote in his hand. “You’ve been here over a year and you haven’t set foot in Massachusetts.”

      Gray popped a careless shrug. “Guess I just needed a push.” If he had, he’d have known about Abbie’s father and could have helped her.

      “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

      “I know her. I know Echo Falls. I can find her faster than anyone here.”

      Someone within the program wanted to harm his golden girl. He might have had nothing to offer her thirteen years ago, but now he could keep her safe from the bullies who wanted to hurt her. “I understand her. I understand where she’s coming from. I understand the program that betrayed her.” He was her only chance.

      “It’s not just Abrielle, Reed. There’s WITSEC’s reputation and the lives of soldiers at stake.”

      “I get that.”

      A long silence loaded the room with tension, high-strung and expectant. Never let them see you sweat.

      Falconer reached forward and with a finger flicked Gray’s glasses so they rested on top of his head. “Tell me about Abrielle.”

      Gray willed his naked gaze to meet Falconer’s straight on. Never let them see your pain. He grinned and made a joke out of the feelings that had nearly eaten him alive. “She was the princess in the mansion and I was the guy from the wrong side of the tracks.”

      “I see.”

      Gray feared maybe Falconer was seeing too much. “I never stood a chance.”

      “A schoolboy’s first crush can make him blind to boundaries.”

      “But he still understands their restrictions.” Especially when they were pounded into him.

      “Make sure you do.” Falconer rose and gathered his files. “You find her and you bring her in. Is that understood?”

      “Crystal clear.”

      “Mercer’s my best tracker. He’s going with you. This is too important.”

      Just what Gray needed—a shadow to witness his weakness.

      ALL PRISON TELEPHONE conversations were taped, so Raphael Vanderveer had to learn to talk about what to the censors would sound like treason as if it were apple pie. But what did the little minds know about how the world really worked? They didn’t understand he was selling defective merchandise to the enemy while working on the real thing for the U.S. government. Why shouldn’t he profit from the enemy’s greed? “I’ll need a new suit for court.”

      “Check.”

      That’s what he liked about Pamela Hatcher—her efficiency. With just those few words she’d know what to do. It wasn’t that they were intimate. He’d hired her because he wasn’t attracted to her. She was a steel stork of a woman, with a face like a scarecrow and delusional fantasies of being the next Lara Croft. But her mind was sharp enough to cut paper and she understood him. So few people did. A vengeful woman was a force more fearsome than an atomic bomb, and he never wanted pleasure to interfere with business. No sex. No jealousy. No need to worry about female revenge. Pamela got that. What she wanted from him wasn’t passion; it was adventure.

      “Have my tailor cut a dress for you while he’s at it.” Raphael pulled on the cigar he’d paid a small fortune for.

      “Really?” Pamela’s squeal of delight was real. In his generous understanding of her fantasy, he’d offered her the kind of assignment that would send someone like Pamela in throes more satisfying than any orgasm. How often had she asked for a more hands-on part in this game he was playing with his captors? Now she’d get to tackle the role of private investigator.

      “Any word on the Belgian chocolates yet?” Abbie was a sweet more delicious than any candy, as Pamela already knew. But Abbie had escaped the box he’d put her in, and he needed her back.

      “You don’t pay me enough for all this runaround.” Pamela pretended to whine.

      Another little ruse. The censors heard an overworked, underpaid assistant. But Pamela knew the worth she brought him, and he paid her accordingly. Nothing Uncle Sam could get his hands on, mind you. All part of the fun for Pamela. “I just gave you a designer dress.” Out of fabric so secret, being caught wearing it would have her tried for treason.

      “Um, so you did.” She giggled like a schoolgirl, already anticipating the thrill of the hunt. He beamed at his foresight to hire her.

      “Check the order confirmation and track down that chocolate. And make sure the contents aren’t damaged.” He blew out rings of smoke. As soon as he got what he needed from Abbie and erased her from the picture, he could get back to business. She’d already cost him almost a year of his life. He’d make her pay for all of her sins. “I want to celebrate my release in style.”

      Chapter Two

      Gray had sent Mercer to sniff Abbie’s trail at its last known point, but the shortcut to information lay in this armpit Gray had sworn he’d never come back to.

      The skeleton of houses forming the backbone of Echo Falls appeared through the rain-drenched windshield of his Corvette. How could so little have changed in thirteen years?

      Echo Falls squatted in northwestern Massachusetts, east of Highway 91, north of Route 2. A town lost in time, tucked in its own little world. Settlers had followed the law of least effort, taking advantage of the natural fall of water from Holbrook Pond to Bitter Lake, which then emptied into the Prosper River and into the Connecticut River. To make up for the falls’ lack of grandeur, the founding family had somewhere along the road built a spectacular granite arch bridge over the fast-moving river.

      Originally water powered the wool mills; now it was electricity. The surviving mill buildings still stood on their original site, reflecting on the pond on sunny days. Built in 1774, Holbrook House still faced south,

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