Hidden Agenda. Christy Barritt

kitchen counter. Beside the refrigerator. In a basket.” She’d been planning on taking it with her on the boat. Then she’d call a taxi from the piers to take her to the rental-car agency. She’d been planning on going down to see her sister.

      Ed stepped away. Being away from him both made her relax and feel tenser at the same time. She was glad to be away from his scrutiny, but she couldn’t help worry as she sat alone in the dark.

      Her thoughts revolved around Ed and his credibility. Why hadn’t Mr. Carter kept any pictures of his son around the house? What kind of relationship had the two of them had? Mr. Carter had certainly spoken with pride about his only offspring, but if they had such a close relationship, why hadn’t Ed shown up for his father’s last days? Something wasn’t adding up. A lot of things, for that matter. What if Ed wasn’t who he’d claimed to be?

      She shrugged it off and grabbed some blankets from the closet, leaving a few on the couch in case Ed needed them. Then she pulled the leather recliner closer to the fireplace and settled there, pulling several blankets over herself. The temperature had dropped, and the air in the house was more than chilly. It was downright uncomfortable.

      As another shiver washed over her, she looked over her shoulder. Was the stranger watching her now? Was he waiting for just the right moment to flaunt his power over her? Nausea turned in her stomach at the thoughts.

      Ed appeared with a tray a few minutes later. He’d scrounged up not only some crackers and apples but also a few bottles of water. He set them on the table between them. “I thought you might be hungry, as well.”

      She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

      As soon as the words left her mouth, her stomach grumbled. It seemed she was hungrier than she’d thought. She leaned forward and grabbed some crackers. If anything, they might help to settle her stomach, which was twisted in knots.

      Ed sat on the couch, ignoring the blankets in favor of leaning closer to the fire, and grabbed an apple. “How long did you work for my father, Bailey?”

      Bailey ran a finger over her lips, hoping to dislodge any stray crumbs. “Eight months.”

      “And how’d you end up on an isolated place like Smuggler’s Cove?”

      She shrugged, thinking back on the broken path that had led to her decision to come here. “Long story. I needed some changes in my life. I had worked as a nurse in the ER, but I was tired of the pace, the pressure, the social scene of life back in Raleigh. I decided maybe I should be a home health nurse and applied with an agency. A day later, I got the call about your father.”

      “I’m surprised you lasted more than a week around that ornery man.” He offered a wry smile.

      The mystery of their relationship deepened. The way Ed said the words was with an unmistakable affection, but that didn’t add up with the facts she already knew. “Your father was a wonderful man. I mean, he was kind of gruff sometimes. But once you got past those walls, he was delightful. I loved listening to his stories.”

      He took another bite of his apple and leaned back. “What kind of stories?”

      “Of traveling the world. Of the people he met. Of how our country has changed since he was a boy. He took a lot of pride in the United States and the freedoms we have here.”

      “My dad told you all of that?”

      She nodded. “We had nothing to do but talk. I mean, sometimes we took walks outside or sat by the water or I read books to him. But mostly we talked.”

      Ed’s face tightened, and Bailey wondered about his expression. What was he thinking? That she was lying and that his father couldn’t possibly be that kind? Or did he regret that he’d missed out on his father’s final days?

      “Did he talk about his work very much?”

      Bailey shrugged. “I don’t know. He did mention some of the senators he had to work with and some of the places he got to visit. He usually only talked about that if he had company.”

      Ed raised his eyebrows. “Company?”

      Bailey nodded. “He had some people from work visit him a few times.” At least someone had cared enough to. She kept that thought silent.

      Ed tilted his head to the side. “I thought my father wanted to get away from everything—and everyone. Especially work. He associated it with too much pressure, pressure he didn’t need with his heart condition.”

       Maybe that’s what Ed told himself to justify not coming to visit himself. Speaking of which...

      She stared at Ed a moment, wondering what kind of heartless man didn’t visit his dad in his final days. Whether she liked it or not, it appeared she’d be finding out.

      * * *

      Ed saw the judgment in Bailey’s eyes. He wanted to pretend that he didn’t care, but he knew he did. He didn’t have to explain himself to Bailey, though. God was the only one who needed to understand, and the two of them had already had many talks about everything that had gone down.

      Claire had judged him enough that he’d had his fill. The two had dated for a year and Ed had hoped to marry her one day. She was an executive assistant for a company in DC and had to travel a couple of weekends a month for work.

      At least, that was her cover story.

      In reality, she was working for an elite group of international spies determined to steal US secrets. Ed—and dating Ed—had been a part of the plan she’d devised to get information from him. Thankfully, Ed had seen the light, so to speak, in the nick of time. He’d been heartbroken and angry. Then he’d simply poured more of himself into his work.

      “Why are you here, Ed? Why did you come now and not earlier?”

      Bailey’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned toward the woman, ignoring the strange desire he had to trust her. Trust made people weak, and he couldn’t afford that right now. What he’d said earlier was true. Bailey had the most access to his father. She, for all intents and purposes, should be his first suspect.

      “I’m here because someone murdered my father, and I intend to find out who.”

      Any enemies would have been wise to hire someone with an innocent face like Bailey. She seemed so unsuspecting, and that would make her the perfect culprit. There was a part of him that wanted to believe there were good people in the world, but experience told him to remain cautious.

      “I really don’t understand. Why would you think he was murdered?” She finished her cracker, leaned back in the chair and pulled her blanket to her chin.

      He shrugged. “I have my reasons. Did anything out of the ordinary happen in the days leading up to his death?”

      She drew in a deep breath and looked off into the distance a moment. “He did ask me to protect his things. He said something about someone coming here and destroying people. We’d just watched an action movie on TV, though. I thought maybe he was confusing TV with real life.”

      Interesting. He’d continue to let her think his father’s words had been accidental. But Ed knew the truth.

      Nothing was as it seemed, and Ed didn’t know who to trust—including his colleagues at the CIA. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were involved somehow. Was all of this a cover-up on their part?

      “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill your dad,” Bailey whispered. “He said he was just a number cruncher at the State Department. Certainly that’s no reason that he’d be in danger—unless adding something up incorrectly is reason for murder.”

      “Sounds like you’ve been watching too many spy movies.”

      She frowned. “Yeah, maybe I have. But I’m not the one who thinks Mr. Carter was murdered.”

      He bit down, knowing he couldn’t say anything and