CHAPTER FOUR
Jeffrey sensed someone behind him before hearing a footstep crunch over one of the random patches of snow on the sidewalk. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to hide their approach. He subtly drew back the right side of his coat, as if putting his hand in his pants pocket, giving himself better access to his weapon.
As a test, he quickened his pace, and the person behind him did the same. Just as he was about to turn and confront his pursuer—
“Jeffrey.”
He stopped short at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard for twelve years. He knew exactly who it was—he could never forget the soft lilt of her British accent. No matter how hard he tried.
Jeffrey slowly turned to face his past, and their eyes connected.
The beautiful woman he knew twelve years ago stared back at him … with brown eyes. Aside from the eye color change, she looked different … tired, scared, hunted even .
“Hello, Jeffrey.” She finally broke the unsettling silence between them.
Her concern for his reaction at seeing her after twelve years was there in the tightness around her mouth and the guarded look in her eyes.
“Maya.” With a nonchalance he didn’t feel, he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “This is certainly a surprise.”
He didn’t say another word. Were there things he wanted to say to her? Things he wanted to ask her? Hell, yes, but she’d initiated contact and would have to be the one to kick things off.
Besides, he wasn’t in the mood to make things easier for her.
“I need …” She glanced around and hiked the strap of her backpack higher on her shoulder. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“I don’t—”
“Maybe to the coffee shop?” She pointed over her shoulder. “Please, Jeffrey.”
“I would think you’ve had enough coffee for one day,” he said.
“I should have anticipated you would be aware of my presence.” She looked down for a few seconds, then back up at him. “I need your help. ”
“Why me?” He removed his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. “Why not just ask your buddies at MI6 to help you?”
“I … well …” She drew back her shoulders. “I am no longer with MI6.”
He knew that much because, like a stupid, lovesick teenager, he’d tried to find her, but she’d simply vanished. His kneejerk response was to send her away, to tell her she was on her own to deal with whatever her problem was, but curiosity overruled his emotions.
Jeffrey dragged the cuff of his coat up to reveal his watch.
“I’ll give you ten minutes.” He turned, checked both ways for vehicles, then started across the street, careful to avoid the icy patches.
Maya hurried to catch up, and he opened the coffee shop door for her. He might be pissed at her, but his mother had raised him to be a gentleman. They placed their orders, and she rushed over to sit in the seat near the window, the one with its back against the wall.
Old habits die hard.
She set her backpack on the floor beneath the table and peeled her coat off her shoulders to let it drape over the back of her chair.
Jeffrey didn’t bother to remove his coat. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take long .
They sat in silence until the barista called their name. Once they had their beverages, Maya wrapped her hands around her cup as if to warm them.
He used the time to give her a good once-over.
The golden blond hair he’d tangled around his hands during sex was now a deep brown and much longer than before. Her blue eyes were concealed behind brown contacts, and Maria had been right about the eyeglasses—they weren’t prescription lenses. She was thin, almost to the point of gaunt, and wore black leggings tucked into hiking boots with a dark green shirt that appeared to be too big for her. The soft, curvy figure he’d wrapped himself around all those years ago was more angular, and he couldn’t help wonder what had been happening in her life to cause such a change.
Her knee bobbed up and down, and her fingertip tapped tink tink tink against the ceramic mug as she stared out the window. Uncharacteristic behavior from the woman he’d watched hold her own against men at the highest levels of the international intelligence community.
Jeffrey blew across the top of his coffee, waiting for her to talk. A few minutes passed, and he checked his watch.
“Time’s up.” He slid his mug away and started to stand.
“No, wait!” Her hand shot out, and she wrapped her long fingers around his forearm.
Damn, she was fast.
Jeffrey looked down at her hand, then up at her eyes .
“Please.” It was the desperation in that one word that had him sitting back down.
She released his arm and said, “I need your help finding my daughter.”
Maya had to give him credit. He didn’t react, didn’t so much as twitch at finding out she had a daughter. Understandable, really. Why would he care about anything pertaining to her or her life?
She hoped the more he learned, the more he would come to care about her daughter. Maya needed him to care about Isla.
She leaned a bit closer and kept her voice low as she told him everything she knew and everything she’d done to find Isla.
“Wait a second.” His brows crunched together. “You live in Sicily?”
“Yes.” And before that, Portugal, Switzerland, Poland, and so many others. “There was buzz that we were spotted, so my handler relocated us to Sicily a little over a year ago.” She felt compelled to add, “Jeffrey, the only thing that could’ve made me leave Sicily was my desperate need for your help and knowing this was a request that needed to be done face-to-face. ”
Leaving Sicily, knowing her daughter might reappear there, had nearly killed her, but she’d had no choice.
“And you’re certain she … What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Isla.” She’d named her after the breathtaking River Isla in northeast Scotland.
As a child, Maya’s family had gone there on holiday many times. She used to love sitting on the riverbank, watching the crystal-clear water splash over moss-covered boulders. She’d been captivated by the way a thin layer of mist weaved its way around the tall trees with an almost mystical quality. With the innocence of a child, she’d longed for a fairy or leprechaun to dash out of the woods and surprise her.
To the little girl she once was, River Isla was a special, magical place. She’d always hoped to one day take her daughter there.
His voice drew her from her mental wanderings.
“And you’re certain the last time anyone saw Isla was when she went to meet this person from the Kids Chat messages at the park?” he asked.
“Yes.” She nodded. “My neighbor, Mrs. Gionetti, was out tending to her small garden and saw Isla leaving our place and asked her where she was off to.”
“Isla confirmed she was headed to the park?” He took a sip of his coffee .
“Yes.” Maya nodded. “She said she was going to meet her friend at the playground.” She told him how Isla didn’t have many friends her own age.
Their current residence was the most recent in a long line of apartments, rental houses, villas, townhomes, and flats that they’d lived in during Isla’s short life. They were never anywhere long enough to grow roots or establish any real meaningful relationships.
“Mrs. Gionetti tried to ask what her friend’s name was, but Isla was already turning the corner. Two men in the park did see her sitting on a bench that day, but no one saw the person she was meeting.”
She twisted to retrieve a photo from the side pocket of her backpack. She looked at it for a long moment and swallowed back the dread of what her child must be enduring, then slid it across the table. “This is Isla.”
Jeffrey stared at the photo for the longest time. He looked up at Maya, down at the photo, back up at Maya.
“How old is she?” Suspicious eyes bored into hers, as if daring her to lie to him.
Maya realized she’d been holding her breath and released it slowly before answering. “She’ll be … twelve in three months.”
She watched and waited while he stared at the photo and calculated the math in his head.
“Eleven … That would mean—”
“Isla is your daughter, Jeffrey. ”
He stood so quickly his chair teetered, fell backwards, and crashed to the floor. Silence descended over the coffee shop, and they suddenly became the center of attention.
“Come with me,” he growled, his voice deep and threatening. He snatched up the photo and stormed out the door.
Maya yanked her coat off the back of the chair and picked up her backpack from the floor. She wrestled her coat on as she chased after him. She started into the street but had to stop to allow a car to pass, then quickened her pace to catch up to him. He was already stomping up the three steps to the front door when she got there.
Jeffrey pulled a plastic card from his pocket and tapped it against a small pad next to the door. He leaned over a scanner and the locked disengaged. The level of security was no surprise, considering the man who worked there.
He swung the door open, stepped inside, and waited for her to clear the doorway before locking them inside.
For a split second, she worried whether she would be able to leave of her own accord .
“Follow me.” Jeffrey moved across the large space and headed up a single flight of stairs.
They walked past several closed doors along the hallway. One on the left wasn’t a typical door—it appeared to be made of steel, and there was a slight hum as you passed it.
Vacuum-sealed tech room. A lot of electronic equipment had to be kept in a cool space or it would overheat.
“In here.” Jeffrey opened the door at the end of the hall, and they stepped into what she presumed was his office. “Have a seat.” He indicated a round conference table on the other side of the room.
She set her backpack on one of the chairs, then shrugged off her coat, hung it over her forearm, and sat in the chair next to her stuff.
While Jeffrey removed his coat, she looked around his office.
His desk was neat as a pin with nothing unnecessary atop it. The walls were bare, though she knew he’d been awarded several commendations and medals while serving as a recon sniper in the United States Marine Corps. During his time in the military, he’d been given the moniker of The Ghost.
She also noticed there were no photographs on display. What had she expected? Perhaps an endearing photograph of a wife and children? She chose not to delve too deeply into why the thought of that hurt so much. She’d given up the right to have any feelings on that topic the night she’d left him without so much as a by-your-leave.
“Don’t waste your time.” He tossed his coat over the back of his desk chair. “You won’t find anything interesting.”
The man never missed a thing .
He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, then pulled out the chair across from her and sat. Isla’s photograph was still in his hand.
“I want you to tell me why the hell I’m just now finding out that I have a child.” His jaw rolled, and he leaned across the table and pointed at her. “And don’t even think about lying to me, Maya. I want to know everything. I think you owe me that much.”
“You’re right.” She nodded and took a deep, bracing breath and released it. “I’ll tell you what I can.”