Not Without Cause. Kay David

night she’d informed Haden she was leaving the Agency, they’d had two hours of incredible sex, then afterward, when she’d revealed as much as she could about her plans, he’d thrown her out of his apartment. She’d been so unprepared for his reaction she’d ended up on his front porch clutching more of her clothing to her chest than she’d actually been able to get on her body.

      She’d told herself the breakup had been bound to happen. Sooner or later, she and Haden would have killed one another. One would have shot the other or they would have screwed themselves to death. Sometimes, though, she wondered where the relationship might have gone. Haden had been an intriguing man with secrets that didn’t match the person she’d come to care for and the contrast had kept her interested far longer than normal. She would have figured him out eventually—but it might have taken her a lifetime.

      “I brought Jack Haden into the Agency so believe me, this wasn’t an easy decision.” Reynolds toyed with the sugar packets. “I trusted him. But a lot of field officers end up this way. There’s money and excitement and deals to be made. South America is like a drawer full of candy to a smart guy like Haden, and he’s reached in and grabbed a handful.”

      Meredith didn’t reply because she didn’t know what to say, a vague sense of discontent marring the loyalty she had always shown her mentor. “I just don’t know….”

      Disapproval came into Reynolds’s pale gray eyes.

      “I thought I could depend on you, Meredith. I helped you a lot when you were on the official payroll. I got you where you are right now.” He paused. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

      “I haven’t forgotten anything you’ve done for me, Dean, and I never will,” she said slowly. “But Jack is one of us—”

      Dean’s hand snaked out and captured her wrist before she could finish her sentence. She jerked her gaze to his face in surprise.

      “He was but he isn’t anymore.” His voice turned fierce. His fingers squeezed painfully, then he released her and thumped the pile of black-and-white photos sitting on the tabletop between them. “This is what he’s become and you have a duty to see that it doesn’t go any further.”

      Meredith picked up the photographs he’d already shown her, her hands shaking in spite of herself. The first one was a long-distance shot of Jack Haden and two other men. Their faces were grainy but clear enough. She knew who the terrorists were. She moved on to the second one. It showed Haden on a busy street kissing a dark-haired woman. According to Reynolds, the woman was a courier for Al Balsair. Haden had one hand around her waist and the other at her neck. The kiss was a serious one and it’d instantly reminded Meredith of the kind they’d shared. She swallowed hard and pushed the memory aside, her eyes going to the third shot. Obviously caught at a party, Haden had been snapped standing beside a blond man and they were engrossed in a conversation, oblivious to all around them.

      She tapped the last picture, distracting herself from the one before it. “Tell me again about this Prescott fellow….”

      “He works for a telecommunications firm out of Boston called Redman Cellular,” Reynolds said. “They’re bidding on a job to install a series of towers down there for cell phone communication. It’s easier than trying to get land lines to everyone. He went to Guatemala City two weeks ago. The last time his wife heard from him was three days later. Since then, not a word.”

      “Have you talked to anyone at Redman?”

      “I’ve spoken with Prescott’s boss several times.”

      “No mention of a ransom?”

      “He said no. He’s upset and worried, but at a loss to figure out what happened, or so he says. Everything seems normal on the surface.”

      “But…?”

      “But Redman Cellular’s name came through the system earlier this year with a yellow flag. The American companies that have contracts in the Latin quadrant are overworked and understaffed. They’re desperate to hang on to their deals so they’re sending people down there who aren’t anything but warm bodies. They don’t know what they’re doing, but their presence makes the locals think something’s getting done and it buys the companies more time.”

      “But in the meantime, all anyone employed by Redman needs is a legitimate work visa and they’re free to travel between South America and North America. Regular round trips aren’t out of line—they’re expected.”

      “Exactly.”

      “Perfect setup for a mule.”

      “You got it.”

      Meredith shook her head in disgust. The bad guys made so much money here they had to have it physically transported to Latin America. The women and men who shuttled the money and goods back and forth were called mules. Lately, with all the advances that had been made in electronic eavesdropping, information and other pieces of intelligence were frequently hand-carried as well.

      “He’d left his hotel in Guatemala City for Panajachel,” Dean continued. “That’s on Lake Atitlán. It’s a big tourist destination, but he never arrived.”

      “Who contacted you about the case?”

      “Someone at his hotel reported the incident and the Guatemala City police took it from there.”

      She leaned closer. “You don’t generally deal with things at this level. Other than the flag on Redman Cellular, what makes Prescott so special?”

      “Nothing,” he said bluntly, “except that photograph right there.” He pointed to the one showing Prescott talking to Haden. “That was taken right before he disappeared. They both ‘happened’ to be at the same party. A few days later, Prescott vanished.”

      She nudged the photo of Prescott to reveal the final one in the pile. It was a long shot of Jack Haden, sitting alone at a table outside a restaurant. Her fingers brushed the image of his face as if by accident, but the recollections that heated inside her were anything but casual.

      Meredith spoke carefully. “Haden has always been well-liked at the Agency. I was surprised when I heard he’d transferred to Guatemala.”

      Reynolds studied her face. Meredith stared back calmly. She was confident he had no idea she and Haden had been lovers. No one had been better than the two of them at keeping secrets. Even from each other.

      Especially from each other.

      “I was surprised, too,” Reynolds said finally. “I always thought Hades would close Langley down and turn out the lights after everyone else had gone.”

      She smiled without thinking at the nickname but her expression changed as Reynolds continued.

      “I find it hard to believe he’s involved in this whole mess, too, but he is. We have the photos and surveillance on the ground. His fingerprints were all over Prescott’s room. You can confirm that with the police if you like. The rest of the information I’ve given you is confidential, of course. But if you want to double-check it…” His voice was stiff and defensive.

      “That won’t be necessary. You’ve shown me the photos. If you’re sure, that’s good enough for me.”

      “I’ve never been more positive of anything in my life. I wouldn’t have called you if I’d had the slightest doubt.”

      “Where is he right now?”

      “Guatemala City as far as I know. He hasn’t been in the office for a couple of days, but he’s still in the country. I would have heard if he’d left.”

      She sat quietly for a few seconds, then she asked the question she’d been holding back since Dean had called her two days before. “You have other ways to handle this.” Her eyes locked on his. “Why me?”

      “You’re the best,” he said without preamble. “And that’s what I have to have.”

      She