Lover, Stranger Part 24

Was it possible that Pilar's little scene had been a diversion? Was she or Kendall--or perhaps both of them--responsible for the shot that had been meant for Ethan tonight? Had they killed Joe Huddleston?

Grace knew that Myra had someone working on that angle even now, but the older agent was still concentrating most of her efforts on Reardon.

When Grace had contacted her earlier, before leaving the hotel, and told her what she planned to do, Myra had been against it.

"You can't tell him the truth, Grace. What if he runs?"

"I don't think he will," Grace had argued.

"And besides, I don't have a choice. If I don't tell him the truth, he's going to the police.

The last thing we need is to get HPD involved any more than they already are.

She'd finally managed to placate Myra, but Grace knew Ethan wouldn't be quite as easy to appease. She wouldn't soon forget the look on his face when she'd told him she was the police. A federal agent, she'd barely managed to get out before the hotel security and several HPD officers had descended upon them in the corridor.

Grace wasn't sure why, but Ethan hadn't said anything to the authorities about what she'd told him. Instead, he'd let her take the lead, and when it had come time for him to give a statement, he hadn't said or done anything to give her away. That action, as much as anything else, made Grace realize how much he had come to trust her. How much she owed him.

And now it was time to pay the piper, she thought, turning away from the window. Ethan, who had gone straight to the kitchen to mix himself a drink when they'd gotten home, would want an explanation, and she had better be convincing. For more reasons than one.

Across the room, Simon moved restlessly on his perch. Grace drifted over to him and stood staring at him for a moment.

"What did you mean yesterday when you said, "I say we just the kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d and be done with it'?" she asked him.

The bird tilted his head and squawked, "They're not real."

"Forget about that," Grace said impatiently.

"We're way beyond that now."

The bird strutted along his perch.

"Book him, Dano!"

For G.o.d's sake, Grace thought. The bird was a walking, talking advertis.e.m.e.nt for daytime TV.

"Who do you think I am. Jack Lord?" she muttered.

"That's a good question," Ethan said. She turned to find him standing behind her, a drink in each hand. "Who are you.

Grace? "

She moistened her lips.

"I told you earlier. I'm a federal agent."

"FBI.".

She nodded.

"That's right."

"Is your name really Grace Donovan?"

"Yes."

"And I'm supposed to believe this new story? Accept your word for everything?"

"I can show you my ID and my badge if you like."

"Don't bother. I'm sure they can be faked just like business cards.

And sisters. " He offered her one of the drinks. When Grace declined, he said bitterly, "Oh, that's right. You're still on the job, aren't you?"

"Look." She ran her fingers through her bangs, wondering how she could possibly explain her motives in a way that would make him understand. Make him forgive her.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth from the start. But I couldn't. It wasn't my call to make."

His gaze narrowed on her.

"So you were just following orders?"

She hesitated. It would be easy to blame everything on her superiors, but the truth was, the deception had been her idea. Hers and hers alone.

She drew a long breath and released it.

"Maybe I should start from the first."

"Maybe you should," he agreed. He downed one of the drinks and set the empty gla.s.s aside before turning back to her.

"I'm listening."

Grace turned and walked back to the windows that looked out upon the street.

The surveillance was still in place, but she wondered why that knowledge didn't alleviate the uneasiness growing inside her.

After she told Ethan the truth, would he allow her to stay? Would he accept her protection?

"Three days before Amy Cole was murdered, she walked into the Federal Building here in Houston and asked to speak to an FBI agent. She said it was urgent. The man she eventually talked to was Joe Huddleston."

She sensed rather than saw Ethan's surprise.

"The agent who was killed tonight?"

Grace nodded.

"Joe and I went through training at Quantico together.

We'd kept in touch over the years. He knew that my superior in Was.h.i.+ngton was coordinating efforts to locate Trevor Reardon. After he talked to Amy, he got in touch with us immediately. "

"What did Amy tell him?" Ethan came to stand beside her at the window.

"She said that her employer. Dr. Ethan Hunter, the renowned plastic surgeon, was using his clinic in Mexico to operate on criminals' faces for money."

"What proof did she offer?"

Grace paused.

"None. All she had were suspicions."

He made a sudden, angry movement that startled Grace.

"Are you telling me you have no proof that anything illegal went down? This whole thing has been based on one woman's suspicions?"

"I know how that must make you feel, but" -- "Oh, I don't think you do," he said coldly.

"I don't think you have any idea how I feel at this moment."

"You have every right to be angry," Grace said, wis.h.i.+ng his eyes didn't look quite so dark and quite so deadly.

"But let me finish before you start jumping to conclusions yourself."

He let that one pa.s.s. He turned back and stared out the window with a brooding frown.

"Amy showed Joe Huddleston a picture she'd clipped from the newspaper of Trevor Reardon. It was the same one I showed you. She said that she was almost certain she'd seen Reardon talking with Dr. Hunter... with you... a few months ago at the Mexican clinic."

Ethan glanced at her, his gaze still hard.

"Go on."

"Like I said before, Joe knew my superior, Myra Temple, was coordinating the Bureau's efforts to track down Reardon. After Amy left, he called me and told me what had happened. When I briefed Myra, she agreed that we needed to come down here and talk to Amy ourselves, see if her story held water. We didn't discount the possibility that she could have been delusional, or that she was a rejected mistress out for revenge. We wanted to consider every possibility.

"And after talking with her, both Myra and I believed her. We both thought she was on to something. Myra and I started working with the field office here in Houston to set up a surveillance and possibly a sting if it was necessary to get your cooperation."

He spared her a brief glance.

"Just what were you willing to do to get my cooperation?"

Grace shrugged.

"Whatever it took."

A look she couldn't define flashed across his face. "I accused you once of being cold, remember?"

"Yes. And you were right." She forced herself to shrug.

"I am cold.

Ruthless. I'll do whatever it takes to catch Trevor Reardon. "

Ethan's gaze hardened on her.

"Why does it mean so much to you?"

Grace tried to suppress a shudder. She wanted to be honest with Ethan, but there were some things she'd never told anyone. Some things she still couldn't talk about.

"He's a killer. A cold-blooded murderer. I don't want anyone else to die because of him."

"And that's all it is?" Ethan's voice had a strange quality that Grace had never heard before.

She s.h.i.+vered again.

"Isn't that enough?"

He fell silent for a moment, contemplating everything she'd told him.

Then he said, "What went wrong? Why is Amy Cole dead?"

Grace released a long breath.

"After talking with her, we didn't expect you back in the country for at least two weeks. We thought we had plenty of time to set everything up, get everyone in place so that no one would get hurt. But evidently Amy got cold feet. She may even have found out about your impending divorce and then had second thoughts about what she'd done to you.

"When she found out you were coming back early, I think she got in touch with you and warned you that the Feds would be waiting for you.

We had the airport staked out, along with your house and Amy's apartment. We thought we had it all covered, at least as best we could with such short notice, but then you chartered a plane and flew into a private airfield. We think you somehow contacted Amy, either by cell phone or through a neighbor, and the two of you made plans to meet at the clinic, possibly to get rid of incriminating evidence.

Amy somehow managed to slip through our surveillance, and then hours later, she turned up dead. "

Grace glanced up and saw Ethan's reflection in the window. He was staring at her, and the look on his face. the expression in his eyes unnerved her.

"That still doesn't tell me what happened to her," he said slowly.

"Unless you're implying that I killed her."

Grace spun toward him.

"No, that's not what I think. That's not what any of us think. Trevor Reardon followed you, probably all the way from Mexico. He ambushed you at the clinic and made it look like you'd stumbled upon a robbery, an addict looking for drugs. I never thought you killed Amy," Grace repeated. Somehow she had to make him believe that. She had to at least give him that.

"How did you know to go to the clinic?" he asked.

Grace shrugged.

"That was purely a hunch. What I told you before was true--I was supposed to meet Amy that night. When she didn't show and I found out she'd slipped out of her apartment unseen, I knew I had to find her. I knew she could be in danger. So I went to the clinic, almost as a last measure. When I found out what had happened, I knew I couldn't tell the police who I really was. The homicide was their jurisdiction, and if they found out Amy had been working with the FBI, we would have had to bring them in on the case. It would have tipped off Reardon that we were on to him, and so I told them I was Amy's sister."

Ethan c.o.c.ked a dark brow, staring down at her. "You didn't think she might have a real sister who would come forward and dispute you?"

"I knew she didn't. She'd already told me she had no one, and that she didn't like to talk about her past. I felt the cover would be reasonably secure."