Chapter Nine

A s soon as Shiloh and Oaks arrived at the ranch, he checked that she was all right and then went straight to the office and closed the door.

She went to her room and changed into comfortable clothes, then waited for him to come talk to her.

That never happened. Eventually, she fell asleep, too exhausted to wait up for him.

Then she slept so fitfully, waking for long stretches and listening hard for noises of someone breaking into the ranch, that she was totally wrung out by the time dawn lightened the sky.

The glow she’d come to look forward to seeing through the blinds every day was dimmer this morning. Back in her last apartment in New York City, she had barely peeked outside, too afraid of someone standing on the street outside her building seeing her and handing her over to William.

Getting brave enough to peek out now took an act of will, but she managed to hook her finger in the blind and draw it away from the glass to look out.

The day was definitely gray, a heavy bank of clouds on the horizon. It swallowed the mountain, making the view blurred.

Like her life felt.

There were so many ups and downs, she could barely keep up. One minute she was having a fine dining experience with Oaks and the next dark shadows crept up on them and her whole world blackened again.

She had to tell him. Everything.

She rolled out of bed and took a few minutes in the bathroom brushing her hair and teeth. Then she walked out of the bedroom to find Oaks.

Her husband. Even if the union wasn’t totally real, he’d come to help her. She had an obligation to him, as he did to her. For the time being, they were bound to one another.

When she entered the kitchen, the scent of fresh-brewed coffee hit her nose and the burble of the machine filling the pot sounded too loud in her ears. In some other part of the house, she heard a person moving around, getting ready for their day.

At the table, Oaks sat in one of the chairs, his elbows on the wood and his head bowed.

“Oaks.”

He looked up at her. The state of his appearance worried the hell out of her. If she looked like she hadn’t slept, he appeared to have stayed awake thanks to too many cans of caffeinated energy drinks.

His eyes were bloodshot. The creases around his eyes that she found so attractive… Well, she still found them attractive. But they were deeper.

He shoved his chair back and walked over to the coffeemaker. He poured two mugs and brought both to the table.

“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug. Her mind weighed the situation. Was he angry with her? He had cause to be. Her choice to withhold information placed him in danger, and hadn’t kept her any safer.

He returned to the refrigerator for the glass jug of milk. He brought it back and poured some into his mug. She didn’t take sugar in her coffee, but there was a jar with a spoon on the table, so she reached for it.

When he plunked into the seat across from her, she felt the annoyance swelling off him in waves.

“Look, Oaks…I owe you an apology.”

He eyed her.

“The only way I can ever be safe is to get the information I have to my handler. Otherwise, William will keep trying to get what I have on him. He’ll keep trying until I get this information into the right hands.”

“Who is this handler, Shiloh?”

“My first handler was a man. I never knew his name and only met with him once. I explained what was happening with William, and he set up a time with me to deliver the information to him. But he never showed up. Then a woman who said she was his superior called.”

He peered at her closer. “What is her name? Do you know it?”

Now that she’d brought it up, the name got trapped in her throat. After months and months of keeping everything to herself, confiding in no one, she might not be able to force out the words now.

“Give me the name, Shiloh.”

She added sugar to her coffee, then nervously dumped in another spoonful.

“Dammit. The name.” His jaw tensed. She could almost hear the tendons in his jaw creaking.

He glanced down at what she was doing. “Are you going to take six sugars in your coffee today?”

“Ugh.” She pushed the mug away and looked him in the eyes. She could trust him. He’d given her no reason not to.

“Her name is Collette Drummond.”

His stare traveled over her face for a long heartbeat. Then he took her mug. “Let me pour you a new cup.”

She watched him dump the coffee in the sink and pour her another mug. Now that she’d given Oaks the name, a strange tingle of relief flooded her system. When he returned with her coffee, she took it in her hands and let the warmth from the porcelain seep into her skin.

“Collette Drummond.”

Her gaze flashed to his. “Do you know her?”

“Not the circles I run in. Now start at the beginning.”

She did, relating how she started working for William’s tech company and quickly rose to the top of her department. The swift way she climbed the ranks made the big boss man take notice of her.

“When he started popping over to my desk to discuss what I was working on, it was pretty flattering. But more importantly, the conversations were stimulating. I enjoyed my work, and talking to somebody who understands the industry on that high a level and has so much passion for it… Well, I got a little carried away.”

She dropped her stare to the wood grain pattern of the table and traced a line with her fingertip. “I feel so na?ve now. I just thought William was a great guy. He wanted to take me on wine tours in California. He took me to France during Paris Fashion Week. When he told me I should go shopping—on his dime—I was so excited that I rushed right into a shop I’d been dying to browse.”

She stole a peek at Oaks’s face. His grim expression told her just how little he was liking this story, but he wagged his fingers for her to continue.

Taking a sip of coffee, she savored the flavor while gathering her thoughts.

“What happened when you rushed into the shop?” Oaks prompted.

She lowered her gaze to her fingers wrapped around the mug. “I realized that he forgot to kiss me goodbye. So I ran outside to see him shaking hands with a guy. A big guy.”

“Russian? With tattoos?”

“Yes. I’m sure of it. When I saw him with the man, I went into the shop. I study people for patterns in their behavior. Up until that point, I hadn’t seen any in William.”

“Then you did.”

She nodded. “When he said let’s go to London, I was all for it. But then he left me in the hotel for an hour…and I realized he must be meeting people.”

She broke off as Layne walked into the kitchen, looking polished in an oversized sweater and jeans, her hair in a smooth ponytail.

Shiloh fell silent. Oaks didn’t speak either.

“Okay, this is awkward. I’ll just grab my coffee and go.” Layne strode to the coffeemaker.

A glimmer of amusement slipped into Oaks’s gray eyes. “Don’t mind us. We’re only discussing matters of national security here.”

“Don’t let me interrupt!” With coffee in hand, Layne hightailed it out the door.

The moment defused some of the tension bouncing between Shiloh and Oaks. Their stares met.

With a heavy sigh, she went on with her story. “I feel guilty about being so easily distracted by money. Maybe my parents were right to say he was above my station and I didn’t understand all the terrible things that money could do to people.”

Oaks studied her but said nothing.

“William would send me to the spa or shopping as a reason to get me out so he could have these meetings with the Russians. And I started drawing more connections.”

“Like what?” His voice carried a new edge, as if this was what he’d laid awake at night wondering.

She withdrew the burner phone he got her from her pocket. It was a simple device, without all the bells and whistles of a smartphone…but she could still access her calendar. She pulled up the screen with a few swipes and slid the phone toward Oaks.

He scooped it up. “Your calendar.”

“Yes. I started noting when these meetings happened. After the second time, I realized a terrorist attack took place in the world shortly following.”

His gaze flashed to hers. “You’re serious?”

She nodded. “I don’t think I’m wrong. See the next date six weeks later? Look what happened the week after that.”

He jerked his head up. “Jesus Christ. A bombing.”

“I realized that almost a week, or sometimes even less, after one of William’s meetings that something big always happened. But that isn’t why he’s after me.”

“Why is he after you?” His words were chillingly calm as he set the phone down on the table between them.

“Because I found the money trail and figured out everything. He’s filtering crypto into their accounts. And I can prove it.”

“Fuck. That’s why you were so concerned about me using crypto to buy you. Shiloh, this is huge.”

She nodded, her stomach feeling wobbly. “I reached out to the CIA. I told my first handler everything, but then he disappeared. And his superior never showed either.”

“Collette Drummond.”

Again, she nodded.

“I have to share this with Carson.”

She started pushing back her chair. “I’ll go with you.”

He shook his head. “You’re going for a horseback ride with my brother, Colt.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just trying to get rid of me so the grownups can talk, right? If you think I’m going to let you tell me what to do, you’re dead wrong .”

“Honey, I never would dare to try. You’re more than capable of sitting in every meeting we have at Black Heart Security.” His stare serious. “Actually, I can see how knotted up all this has made you. You know things like that concern me a lot. I’d like you to go out on the ranch and try to find peace.”

She gulped down any more protests she’d thought to make before. How could she argue with someone caring about her wellbeing?

“I see.”

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek with so much tenderness that tears formed in her eyes. “Seriously, Shiloh. You amaze me.”

* * * * *

Carson leaned against his desk, arms crossed. Heavy creases of responsibility were etched on his face. Now that they knew what was going on, they both knew the matter was much, much bigger than protecting a woman from a kidnapping threat.

The ceiling fan whirred overhead. It wasn’t even a warm day, but the clouds rolling in made the atmosphere heavy.

Oaks eyed his brother. “What are you thinking?”

“This is bigger than what I thought.”

He nodded. “I’ve suspected it’s pretty big. It’s highly unusual for a handler to disappear. We’d better make some inquiries into Collette Drummond.”

Carson drew out his desk chair. The wheels whirred across the floor. When he took a seat, his fingers went straight to his keyboard.

“Get out your phone,” he told Oaks. “Call this contact.” Carson read off the number.

Oaks dialed. While he spoke to that person and was transferred to several more, Carson performed online searches. Though a counterintelligence agent would be well buried in the system, Carson and Oaks both knew people.

A year or so back, they believed their younger brother Denver dead, killed during a mission. But Oaks had a hunch that the record was false, and he’d been correct. After some digging, they learned Denver was really part of SEAL Team Blackout, a special ops unit so deeply undercover that they were known as dead men walking.

Through some very obscure channels, Oaks managed to get word to their brother and they reconnected for a single phone call. It was enough to ease the minds of all the Malones, especially Willow’s. She and Denver were close, and his death had shut her down for a long time.

Oaks was pretty sure the minute Willow set eyes on Denver again, she would probably deliver a swift kick to the balls for causing them all pain.

But that was a different beast than the one they were dealing with. At the moment, he merely needed to track down a handler.

The person he spoke with on the phone made a few grunting noises.

“You know him,” Oaks read the situation with Shiloh’s first handler going missing.

“Yes. He was found dead.”

Oaks fixed his gaze on Carson across the desk. His brother couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but what he read on his face must be enough. He tipped his head up to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“All right, thanks for letting me know.”

He ended the call and set the phone down on the desk. “The first handler’s dead.”

“Not a coincidence.”

“No. Somebody was trying to prevent Shiloh from getting the information to him.”

Carson pushed a breath through his nose. “How do you think she’ll react?”

“I’m not going to tell her.”

Carson opened his mouth to protest.

Oaks cut over him. “ Yet . We’re going to analyze the fuck out of this. Find out who’s behind the murder. We have a little time. She’s out on the trail with Colt. You know how long Colt likes to be out riding. Let’s start digging.”

He reached across the desk for the laptop. Carson spun his chair to face the desktop computer, and the two of them set out to uncover more about the situation.

Oaks soon got lost in the exploration. About an hour in, he paused, fingers hovering over the keys. “I found something.”

Carson jerked around. “What is it?”

“The names of three people seen with the Drummond woman. I was able to track down one of them. A man who’s reported dead.”

“Give me the details.”

Within minutes, they had even more on the guy, enough for Oaks to make a conclusion.

“She says she never knew his name and only met with him one time. But my guess is this was her handler.”

Carson sat back, contemplating him for a beat. “Is there any information on how he died?”

“He was found on the street.”

“The CIA already knows this.”

Oaks grunted. “But they’re not going to share it with us. We’ll have to get it ourselves. The question is how.”

Excitement rippled over Carson’s features. “Do you have an address?”

Oaks blinked. “Goddamn. Yes. You’re right—we can get the closed-circuit camera footage on the street and see who did it.” His fingers flew over the keys. So did his brother’s.

“Aha!” Oaks slapped the desk and shot to his feet. He stared at the screen.

“What do you got?” Carson circled the desk.

“An image.”

Carson gazed at it. “We need to blow it up.”

Oaks was already working on it, hunched over the desk. Sitting was out of the question. He had too much energy. They were so close.

They spotted it at the same time. “Russian. See the tat?” Oaks breathed.

Carson nodded. “Now we need to follow that guy through the channels. See who he reported to about that kill.”

They worked into the afternoon. Oaks’s eyes grew gritty from staring at a screen. When he dug his thumb and forefinger into them to clear them, stars skittered across his vision.

“Oaks.” Carson’s low tone made him look up.

One look at his brother and he knew he had something. Something important.

This time, he rounded the desk to peer at the monitor. In a single look, all the pieces clicked into place.

“He reported to a Russian woman.”

“Yeah…an agent for the CIA who spends a lot of time in Russia. Something tells me that she’s dirty.”

Oaks’s stomach dropped as reality set in. The first handler had been careful not to give Shiloh his name. The second wasn’t nearly so concerned—because her name was a fake.

“She’s a Russian plant.”

“That’s what it looks like to me.”

The documentation on the screen was vague, but Oaks had spent enough time in the military to read between the lines.

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Christ. Shiloh has been able to evade detection for the past six months. Not only did she get away from William on her own…” He met Carson’s eyes. “She’s been evading a Russian assassin for six months without even knowing it.”

“It’s pure luck. And I think hers is about to run out.”

Oaks clenched his hands into fists. “If that’s the case, I’ll just have to step up my game to keep her safe.”