Hidden Agenda. Christy Barritt

was I. I wasn’t even expecting to be here.” She shivered as thunder rumbled through the house again. “Especially not in this storm.”

      “Maybe we should start over.” He extended his hand, still cautious and on guard, but some of his edge leaving him after her comment about his dad. “I’m Ed.”

      She stared at his hand a moment before reaching forward. Her grip felt tentative, uncertain. She still didn’t trust him. Smart woman.

      “I’m Bailey. I was Mr. Carter’s nurse up until the time he died a week ago. I stayed around trying to take care of his affairs, since he had no family around to do so.”

      He heard the undercurrents of judgment in her voice. “He had no family close by, huh?”

      Her eyes flickered with emotion. “Just a good-for-nothing son, who never visited. Not even for his father’s funeral.” Her words sounded protective and loyal—and judgmental.

      “His son sounds like a lousy excuse for a human being.” Ed kept his voice light, tried to disguise the hurt there. He was the master of disguising how he felt. Years of working undercover did that to a person.

      “I agree. I would have done anything to spend more time with my own father before he died. Family should be there for each other.” Her voice cracked.

      “You’re right. Family should be there for each other.”

      She eyed him suspiciously. “And why exactly are you here, Ed?”

      He raised his chin. “Because this is my house now, and I intend on finding out who killed my father.”

       TWO

      Bailey stared at the man in front of her.

      This was Mr. Carter’s son? The hotshot lawyer from DC who never came to visit his father? Who couldn’t even make it to his funeral because of “pressing business”?

      She didn’t know the man, and already she didn’t like him. She didn’t have to know him to know his type. He was career-oriented, into the social scene, all about climbing ladders—socially, professionally and financially. People weren’t on his priority list or on his radar, for that matter. He only cared if they helped him advance in some way.

      “I’m glad you could finally make it,” she finally muttered.

      Suddenly, she wasn’t scared anymore, just annoyed. Why did this man think he could come traipsing in here after being absent from his father’s life for so long?

      Probably because he realized his father’s last will and testament would be read soon. Ed most likely wanted what was left of his father’s fortune. That fit the image she’d developed of the good-for-nothing son.

      In the darkness, she could only make out the outline of the man. She could tell that he was tall, that his shoulders were broad. He was wet from the rain, and the moisture brought with it the scent of woodsy cologne. She’d guess, based on Mr. Carter’s age and the sound of the man’s voice, that Ed was in his midthirties.

      Strangely enough, Mr. Carter didn’t keep any pictures of his son here at the house. There were plenty of pictures of Mr. Carter’s wife, who’d died eight years ago. But none of his son. Bailey had always thought it was odd. She’d asked Mr. Carter about it once, and he’d only said that his son didn’t like his picture to be taken.

      At that moment, Ed stepped closer. She could feel the coldness of his icy gaze. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

      She raised her chin, not ready to back down. Someone had to stand up for Mr. Carter. Ed hadn’t been around to do it. “No, but it’s too bad your dad isn’t here anymore so you could explain things to him.”

      His tone became even cooler. “My dad understood.”

      She raised her chin higher, questioning for a moment whether she should be so hard on the man. She realized this was none of her business, that she’d simply been hired help. But how could a son not be there for his father in his dying days? How could he have missed the funeral?

      And what was all of this talk about finding the person who’d killed his father? Was that just some kind of front to distract her from his real intentions? His selfish intentions?

      She lowered her chin, trying to rein in her emotions, which seemed to be spinning out of control tonight, right along with her imagination. “Your father died of heart failure. You’re mistaken if you think someone killed him. You must have gotten faulty information.”

      “I’m in the business of information.” He stepped closer.

      Even in the dark, she saw his glare.

      She’d gotten on his bad side, and rightfully so. But she didn’t care. She was leaving here as soon as this storm cleared, and she’d never see this man again. At the moment, she wasn’t worried about impressing anyone, especially not Ed Carter.

      She stepped closer, close enough to show that she wasn’t one to back down from a confrontation. “If you’re in the business of information, then you need to check your sources. I was with your father when he died.”

      Ed didn’t break his gaze. “Then that makes you my number one suspect.”

      She sucked in a deep breath, outrage bursting inside her. “You think that I—”

      Just then, a crash sounded downstairs.

      Ed and Bailey’s eyes met and, for a moment, they seemed to agree. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

      And standing here arguing would do nothing to help figure out what.

      * * *

      Ed’s muscles tightened when he heard the noise.

      He’d hoped to handle one catastrophe at a time.

      Now, instead of trying to figure what in the world this woman was talking about, he had to investigate the source of that shattered glass.

      If he were less of a gentleman, he might leave this Bailey woman up here to defend herself. But he wasn’t that kind of guy. No matter how frustrating the woman might be, she was coming with him.

      “Stay close,” he ordered.

      She crossed her arms, her gaze defiant and stubborn. “I’d rather take my chances alone.”

      “This is no time to be difficult.” He should just leave her. If only his conscience would let him.

      “I’m not being difficult. I’m being honest.”

      The woman had guts. But he spoke the truth—this wasn’t the time to try out her hand at independence. She was his first suspect in his father’s death, but he’d learned a thing or two about having tunnel vision in his line of work. Until he had more information, he would keep his eyes open for others. He didn’t have enough evidence to make a case against any one person yet.

      “Stay with me,” he repeated. He turned, tired of wasting time. He needed to check out that sound.

      When he was sure that Bailey was right behind him, he moved toward the stairs. He kept his gun raised, waiting for any sound or sign of approaching danger. Nothing gave any indication that someone else was in the house.

      The crash could have been caused by the storm. But until he knew for sure, Ed had to explore every possibility. There were an uncountable number of people out there who’d like to kill Ed or who could have killed his father. Danger was like breathing for Ed—it was a given. He was always on guard. Always suspicious. It was a hard way to live, but he’d gotten used to it—until recently. Something was shifting inside him, and he wasn’t sure what or how to handle it.

      Despite her bravado earlier, Bailey stayed surprisingly close behind him. He could hear her breaths coming quick and fast. Though he suspected she would never admit it, she was scared.

      He