Covered in Darkness Page 28

  Romeo had been sending me information since shortly after I joined the FBI. Most of the time he provided information that led to solving hard-to-crack cases. But lately, he had gotten a little too close to me, and in some instances, he had even managed to harm me physically.

  James stared at me with both brows lifted and his arms crossed. “Mmm-hmm. Okay. You’re not telling us something.” He turned back to the notebook and flipped the page. “Here are the numbers for the neighbors. Only call Beatrice, though, if it’s a major emergency. I’m so mad at her right now, I didn’t even tell her we were going out of town.”

  I suppressed another smile. “You guys aren’t leaving the country. I’ll call you if I need anything. But we’ll be fine.” Thurston, Lovey, and I were going to hole up in this house for two weeks, eat ice cream, drink wine, and binge-watch Game of Thrones and old episodes of I Love Lucy, Thurston’s and Lovey’s favorites—next to Gilligan’s Island, of course, seeing as that’s where their names had come from.

  James closed the notebook and tucked it onto a shelf between two cookbooks. “I’m just glad to be getting out of town. I’m even more glad to be getting Ty away.”

  “You both deserve this.”

  “You bet we do.” He walked to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle of red. “We’ll be leaving before you’re even up tomorrow.”

  Just as Ty came around the corner in jeans and a fitted tee, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get the wine,” he said, taking the bottle from James and reaching into a drawer for the corkscrew. “You get dinner.”

  “We ordered dinner from our favorite restaurant,” James explained as he headed to the door.

  “I’m sorry about the last-minute request,” Ty said to me. “I’m actually shocked you were able to leave on such short notice.”

  “It’s no problem. I can work from here, for the most part. And you and I left the fusion center in good hands.” Plus, I had my own selfish reasons for wanting to get out of Kentucky and visit DC.

  “How’d Hot Irishman take the news that you were leaving for two weeks?” He poured me a glass of wine.

  I buried my nose into it, taking in the rich scent and pretending to concentrate. I knew any wine James and Ty had chosen would be delicious, and I didn’t care what it smelled like, but it was a good excuse for not answering the question.

  “You didn’t tell him, did you?” Disappointment registered on his face.

  I calmly set the glass on the concrete countertop, pulled out one of the barstools, and sat. “No, I didn’t. We don’t have that kind of relationship. I told him from the beginning I wasn’t ready for any kind of romantic commitment. That I might never be ready.”

  Who was I kidding? I had committed to Declan the moment I’d agreed to live in his house. But last night’s conversation had caught me off guard, so when Ty’s and James’s dog-sitter had canceled on them at the last minute, I had jumped at the chance to head to Georgetown. I even scheduled a couple of meetings in DC as I drove, so it wasn’t like I was just running away. One of those meetings was with Anya Bhatia, a college friend who had agreed to do a little analyst work based on data I had collected from Romeo. She claimed she might have information for me, but wished to speak in person. So this was really a legitimate work trip. Or so I told myself.

  Of course, I wasn’t about to tell Ty about the lead on Romeo. If Ty thought, for even one second, that I was chasing Romeo leads alone, he would cancel his and James’s trip, and James would never forgive me. Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me. I knew I couldn’t let Romeo run my life, but he had hurt me so many times. And if there was a chance that I could put a stop to it, and discover information about Teddy’s death at the same time, I had to.

  Ty took a sip of wine; his eyes seem to dissect everything about me.

  “What?” I said. “Just say it.”

  “No. Who am I to say anything about who and when you commit to a relationship again? You tried your best and gave that gorgeous and kind man a chance. You were living with him, for crying out loud. If he for some reason turned out to be less than perfect for you, you would know. So, what did he do? Try to get too close too quickly? Want you to spend all your time in that big ol’ mansion of his? Make you go out to dinner too much? Make you talk about things you didn’t want to talk about?”

  “No, none of that.” I reached for the wine again and swirled it in my glass, staring at it. “Everything was going fine, until…”

  “He pressured you, didn’t he? To talk about Teddy? That’s why you took off without telling him.”

  I cocked my head, getting leery of Ty’s line of questioning. “No. I told him bits and pieces, but he never pushed for more.” In fact, I had been honest with Declan about one of the most painful moments in my entire life, and he had been incredibly supportive.

  “I guess you just got a horrible feeling about him then? I mean, no one’s as perfect on the inside as they are on the outside, like Declan appears to be. I should have known that the more you got to know him, the more you’d find wrong with him. Good for you for getting out before you got sucked into one of those hard-to-get-out-of relationships.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

  “Oh yeah? What am I doing?”

  “You’re trying to make me feel guilty.”

  “Now you’re just being silly.” He waved a hand. “Only you have the power to let yourself feel guilt. If you made the right decision by shutting Declan out of your life—which you did by not bothering to tell him you were leaving town—then have the guts to trust that it was the right decision. Don’t blame me—your best friend—for saying what I think out of my love for you.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, don’t hold back now. Tell me what you really think.”

  “I think you’re scared.”

  “Scared.” I set my wine in front of me. “Scared of what?” My voice climbed an octave involuntarily.

  “Scared that you’ve finally found the one man who will love you unconditionally. You’re scared that he’s learning everything there is to know about you, yet loves you despite those things. And, Brooke, you’re terrified that Declan will end up exactly like Teddy.”

  I blinked several times.

  “What’s going on in here?” James asked as he re-entered the kitchen and set bags of what smelled like Italian food on the counter.

  “Ty here was just telling me how scared I am. Apparently he doesn’t like the decisions I’m making when it comes to men. Thinks I’m incapable of managing my own love life.” I slipped off of the barstool, poured myself more wine, and scooped up my glass. “You guys start without me. I need a few minutes.” I picked up my bag and took both it and my glass of wine to the guest bedroom.

  “Brooke, please don’t go. I’m sorry,” Ty yelled after me.

  “Give her a few minutes,” James said as I climbed the stairs.

  The guest room was decorated in shades of gray; the en suite bath was of matching, dark gray tile. I took my toiletry bag and my wine into the bathroom, and after splashing cold water on my face, I stared at myself in the mirror.

  I didn’t like what I saw.

  My face was pale. The whites surrounding my dark brown eyes were bloodshot, and my hair hung in a stringy mess after a long day of driving.

  Though I had avoided looking at my phone for the last couple of hours, I now pulled it from my back pocket. I had zero missed calls and two text messages. Both texts were from Marti: one inviting me to have drinks tonight, and a second saying sorry, she had forgotten I had left town for a couple of weeks.

  No calls or texts from Declan, which was a good thing. It meant he’d given up after the five calls and several texts he’d sent earlier that morning. He’d probably accepted that he was better off not letting me drag him down.

  Ty’s words had stung. There was no denying that. But they also rang true. I was scared. Romeo, through his unsolicited messages, had repeatedly informed me that Declan wasn’t right for
me. I was terrified that something would happen to Declan, that Romeo would do something to hurt him. And it would be my fault for bringing my dangerous career—and my stalkerish confidential source—into Declan’s life. I just couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to another man I loved.

  I needed time to think things through. I had to decide what was best for Declan… and for me. This separation would be good for us.

  I set the phone aside and decided that Ty didn’t deserve my bad mood just before going off on a fun vacation with his partner. I tied my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, washed my face, then put on a little blush and mascara. “There,” I said. “A little more human.”

  I headed back downstairs. James and Ty were sitting on the sofa, sorting through their itineraries. James looked up, and Ty stood when he saw me.

  I immediately walked into Ty’s arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You’re obviously going through something; you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  “We’re here for you,” James said, and threw his arms around us both.

  When they both backed up a step, Ty said, “James and I want for you whatever will make you happy.”

  “I know you do,” I said, and I forced a smile. “And right now, whatever amazing food that’s making your house smell like a Tuscan villa is what will make me happy.”

  “By all means, then,” Ty said. “Let’s eat!”

  Chapter 3

  Brooke

  I woke the next morning after the sun was already up. Heat radiated off of Thurston and Lovey, who were lying in a heap beside me, reminding me exactly where I was. Lovey’s head was on the spare pillow, just like a person, and Thurston had laid his head on Lovey’s belly.

  I assumed James and Ty had made their flight and were well on their way to a fun-filled vacation in Margaritaville—also known as Key West, Florida.

  “You guys hungry?”

  Thurston lifted his head and stared at me; Lovey’s tail began a quick wiggle.

  “Kibble?” I asked, and it must have been the magic word. Both dogs scrambled out of the bed and ran toward the door.

  I pulled an Oxford University sweatshirt over my head. I had stolen it from Declan one chilly evening when we sat by his pool and watched the sun set. It was soft and smelled of him, so I adopted it as my own after that.

  As I walked down the steps, I finger-combed my hair and tied it into a ponytail. Thurston and Lovey waited patiently by their bowls in the kitchen. I poured their food, then headed straight for the coffee maker. Luckily, I’d stayed with Ty and James enough in the past to know my way around their house.

  With my mug filled with coffee, creamer, and sugar, I turned on my phone. Still no calls or texts from Declan.

  “What did you expect, Fairfax?” I asked myself.

  It was for the best. Declan had proposed a question he should have known I wasn’t ready to answer. And in response, I’d made the conscious decision to leave Kentucky without telling him I was housesitting for two weeks. Apparently he’d gotten the hint that I needed space and time to think.

  I told myself it was good that he hadn’t reached out. It meant he was accepting the reality of our relationship. It had been fun, but we weren’t ready for an intense commitment.

  I massaged my forehead. The truth was, I missed Declan, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. But our situation was beyond a simple “yes” or “no,” and he knew it.

  Thurston whined by the front door, and Lovey stood beside him, her entire body wagging. “I guess you two want to go for a walk?”

  Thurston stood, and he and Lovey began a dance of excitement, knocking into each other.

  “Okay, okay. Let me go change and grab my shoes.”

  Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of yoga pants, Declan’s sweatshirt, and a pair of running shoes, I set out with both dogs for a brisk stroll through Georgetown, the dogs setting a deliberative pace. The sun was already high enough in the sky, and it seeped through the brightly colored autumn leaves of the trees that lined the residential streets.

  We weren’t far into the walk when my phone buzzed—an email from one of my analysts in the Kentucky Office of Homeland Security. My team of analysts were constantly monitoring various issues that might affect the citizens of the United States, especially if they might impact the safety of the residents of Kentucky.

  But I decided to read the email later. If it had been an emergency, my analysts knew to text or call. I would settle into Ty’s home office when I got back to the house and deal with it then.

  As I held both leashes with my right hand and stuck my phone in my back pocket with the left, Thurston suddenly tugged hard, breaking free of my grasp. He ran toward a man lifting a large box on his front porch.

  “Thurston!” I yelled. “I’m so sorry.” I jogged to catch up. Lovey breathed hard beside me. Who knew the chubby little bulldog could run that fast?

  The man balanced the box on the porch railing while reaching a hand to Thurston’s head. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt starched beyond perfection. “It’s fine,” he said. There was no humor in his voice, however. When he lifted his deep-set eyes, I literally shivered from the coldness in them.

  After shifting Lovey to my left hand, I opened and closed my right hand into a fist. “Damn hand. I sprained my arm a while back, and I just don’t have the grip I used to.” I reached down and took hold of Thurston’s leash with my left hand, then held out my right. “I’m Brooke. I’m housesitting just down the street from you.”

  He reached out to shake my hand. As he did, I caught sight of the Glock on his hip. “Bradley,” he said.

  I smiled up at him, purposely hiding my reaction to the serious firearm. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, Bradley. Sorry about the dog. I’ll try to keep a better grip in the future.”

  Before I turned, I took a quick glance at the box he balanced against the porch railing. Only then did I notice the skewed square on the side—white, with the top and bottom corners colored black.

  I tugged on both leashes. “Let’s go, kids.”

  He lifted a hand and waved. “See you around, Brooke.”

  I hurried away. I was sure Bradley wasn’t about to shoot me on the street in front of his house, but there was something curious about a man packing a gun while standing on his front porch and lifting a sizable box of ammunition—as indicated by the black-and-white diamond marking on the box. Then again, we were in the heart of our nation’s federal government, the home base for tens of thousands of United States law enforcement, national security, and intelligence employees. You probably couldn’t swing a dead cat in a neighborhood like this without hitting someone who worked for FBI, CIA, NSA, DHS, DOD, or one of the other three-letter federal government entities.

  My phone rang as I approached Ty and James’s house, but I didn’t dare switch hands with the leashes. I led Thurston and Lovey through the gate, secured it, and then stopped short.

  A man was standing on Ty and James’s front porch.

  “Declan.”

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  Also by Heather Sunseri

  PAYNES CREEK THRILLERS

  Death is in the Details

  Truth is in the Darkness

  The Secret is in the Bones

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  THE IN DARKNESS SERIES

  Exposed in Darkness

  Cut in Darkness

  Covered in Darkness

  Shot in Darkness

  Desired in Darkness

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  SPECIAL IN DARKNESS STORY

  (Sequel to Cut in Darkness)

  Free to Newsletter Subscribers

  Protected in Darkness

  * * *

  THE INTERNATIONAL THIEF SERIES

  A Thief Revealed

  A Thief Consumed

 
A Thief Obsessed

  * * *

  THE MINDSPEAK SERIES

  Mindspeak

  Mindsiege

  Mindsurge

  Tracked

  Deceived

  * * *

  THE EMERGE SERIES

  Emerge

  Uprising

  Renaissance

  The Meeting (A short story)

  About the Author

  Heather Sunseri is a recovering CPA who began writing novels in order to escape the mundane life as a muggle. After twenty years in the corporate world, Heather decided to use her business savvy and curious mind to start a publishing business anchored by fictional stories. She is proof that one can be a numbers person and a creative… And that it’s never too late (or too early) to get a do over. She’s married to the love of her life, mom to two amazing kids, and caregiver to the best golden retriever and one very, needy cat. When she’s not writing, she’s making homemade pizza, listening to true crime podcasts, and drinking Kentucky bourbon.

  Connect with Heather:

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  heather@heathersunseri.com