Colby Agency: Guardian Of The Night Part 13

Blue had a.s.sumed they were of family, but closer inspection revealed the truth. "They came with the frames."

Noah nodded. He took down one of the frames and removed the back. Lowell had carefully matted the paper photo so that the size and price information imprinted there was covered.

Five photos had been treated in that manner. He'd carefully chosen different frames that used similar images for display. The people looked so similar, no one would have noticed unless they had been looking for discrepancy.

She remembered on the first day she'd arrived, a.s.suming that this was likely his room. She'd noted the framed photographs, but hadn't looked at them closely, and, considering the low lighting, especially before her eyes had grown accustomed, she hadn't noticed anything unusual. She remembered that he'd mentioned losing his family. She just a.s.sumed these photos were of the family.

"Does this smell familiar?"

Noah held out a handkerchief. She lifted it to her nose and cautiously sniffed it. Drawing back instantly, she coughed and purged her lungs of the strong stench.

"It was him."

The words were hers, but she barely recognized them as her own. She shook her head in disbelief. Though she'd mentally noted several inconsistencies in things Lowell had said and done, it was still hard for her to believe that he could play his part so well. What on earth did he have to gain by doing this?

"Take a look at this." Noah opened a drawer in the bedside table and showed her the mutilated magazines, glue and other items needed to create threatening notes.

"Why would he do this?" she voiced her disbelief and frustration, then chewed her lower lip as she turned the idea over in her mind. "It doesn't make sense. He's lived here with you all this time. He could have killed you on numerous occasions. Why do the notes thing and all this other cloak-and-dagger hoopla? Could he be connected to the general somehow?"

"I don't think this has anything to do with me."

Realization burst through all the other confusing thoughts. Lucas. It was about Lucas.

"He's got Lucas," she murmured almost to herself. "I have to warn Casey and-"

Noah placed a restraining hand on her arm when she would have rushed from the room. "There's more."

Ice-cold fear thickening her blood, she watched as Drake picked up an innocuous-looking s...o...b..x that lay on its side, the contents spilled across the chenille bedspread.

"Look at these." He picked up a handful of photographs, mostly candid snapshots, and a few five-by-sevens.

Blue's heart pounded harder with each photograph she viewed. One by one she shuffled through the stack. Dozens of shots of Lucas, but always in a crowd or an unapproachable situation. There were other subjects pictured as well. The only other one that stood out was that of a woman. There was photograph after photograph of her as well. Late forties, early fifties, attractive, dark hair with a hint of gray. Very sophisticated looking. Then there were a couple of the woman with Lucas.

Though Blue didn't know the woman's name, she knew instinctively that this was the woman who owned Lucas's heart. The woman all the Specialists speculated about.

"How long did you say Lowell has worked for you?" she asked, as she reviewed the photographs once more. A sinking feeling had started deep inside her.

"One year. Before that I managed without anyone else. But after-" He hesitated as if unsure whether he wanted to divulge the rest. He swallowed tightly. "After the accident I knew I couldn't really manage on my own so I sought out someone to take care of details...just to be around on a regular basis."

Worry twisted inside her. "Accident? What kind of accident?"

He stared at the floor a moment. "I had the flu or a bug. It dragged on and on. I ended up dehydrated, got dizzy one evening and fell in the kitchen." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Lay there unconscious for an hour or so before I came around. I'd hit my head in the fall. There was a lot of blood. Scared Chester worse than it did me. He brought Emery to patch me up. I pretty much admitted the need to have someone around at that point." He laughed dryly. "Well, actually, Edgar insisted."

Blue almost said good, then realized that Lowell was the a.s.sistant-companion or whatever-who took the job.

"I got used to having him around eventually. It was his idea to contact an agent...when he stumbled upon my hobby."

His artwork. He still didn't want her to know about it. That stung just a little, but she had no time to dwell on it. "Who recommended Lowell?" There had to be a connection.

"I ran an ad in the cla.s.sifieds. Conducted the interviews myself. Lowell impressed me. His background check was clean so I hired him."

Lowell had impressed her too, at least as far as his concern for Drake. She laid the photographs near the s...o...b..x. "I have to get word to Director Casey. We're going to need an entire team."

"I agree. I'll-"

A loud pounding on the front door echoed all the way up the stairs.

"Stay here," Blue said for all the good it would do.

She ran down the hall and descended the stairs two at a time, Drake right behind her. He ducked into the parlor, away from the possibility of being exposed to the light.

When she checked the viewfinder Chester stood on the porch. Drawing her weapon, she unlocked and opened the door. "What's up, Chester?" She scanned the yard, found only his old truck.

He didn't look surprised at all by her weapon. Instead he hitched a thumb in the general direction of the road. "I'm here to find out what the devil's going on," he grumped. "Old man Venable said he'd been waiting over an hour at the dock and n.o.body showed. Then when I come to find out what the trouble was I saw a black car'd been run plumb off the road."

Renewed fear surged. "Was there anyone inside?"

Chester pushed back his cap and scratched his head. "Just one Mexican-looking feller. I can't say for sure, but he looks dead to me."

Ramon.

Blue jerked Chester inside and closed the door. "What kind of injury did he have?" she demanded, Chester's s.h.i.+rt lapels held tightly in her grip to keep his attention.

He tapped his head. "There was a lot of blood."

d.a.m.n. "I've got to go out there," she told Drake who had joined them in the hall the moment the door closed. She released Chester and bent down to retrieve the .38 from her ankle holster then handed it to Drake. She didn't want him unarmed for even the time it would take to unlock his gun cabinet. "Chester will go with me. Call and see if we can get some sort of medflight here just in case Ramon's alive. Whether he's alive or not, Chester will drive him to the dock. There should be enough room on the beach there for a copter to sit down." She looked hard into Drake's eyes. "Once you've made that call lock yourself in that secret room of yours."

To his credit, he didn't look at all startled that she knew about the room. "I'll be back," she a.s.sured him.

Before she could unlock the door, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. "Be careful. We have unfinished business."

She nodded stiffly, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that she'd said those words to him earlier.

Once Drake was safely out of the entry hall, Blue and Chester left. She locked the door behind her, double-checking that it indeed locked before she joined Chester in his truck.

Not a half mile from the driveway, the black sedan sat half in and half out of the woods. Blue bolted from the truck before Chester came to a full stop. She jerked the driver's-side door open and checked Ramon's carotid pulse.

"Thank G.o.d," she breathed. It was there, weak and thready, but there.

"Can we move this car?" she asked Chester.

He went around to the front of the vehicle and checked it for damage. "Should be able to."

"Okay. Let's get him scooted over to the pa.s.senger side and you can drive him to the dock and wait for the medflight." She prayed like h.e.l.l one was available nearby, like in Savannah. "I'll take your truck back to the house."

"Okey-doke." Chester opened the pa.s.senger-side door and with Blue's a.s.sistance scooted Ramon over.

She quickly stripped off the blouse she wore over her tank top and used it for a makes.h.i.+ft bandage around his head. "Once you get stopped at the dock, I want you to keep some pressure on that wound so it won't bleed so much. Keep an eye on his breathing and pulse too." She frowned. "Do you know CPR?" If his heart stopped...G.o.d, she didn't want to think like that.

Chester lifted an indignant eyebrow. "I may look and talk like a country b.u.mpkin, but I know how to do that stuff. Learned it from the coast guard when I volunteered to help them on the weekends back in the eighties."

Blue smiled, chagrined. "Chester, you're one amazing guy."

His face flushed. "Well, I try."

Blue stood back out of the way as Chester maneuvered the sedan back onto the road. As soon as he was off, she climbed back into the truck. She didn't want to leave Drake alone any longer than necessary.

As she drove back to the house, her lips started to tingle all over again as she thought about that kiss. She had no idea what had possessed him, maybe fear of never seeing each other again, but whatever it had been, the kiss was something she wouldn't soon forget.

She parked close to the house and surveyed the yard and the edge of the woods carefully as she moved toward the front door. She had to call Director Casey and get some help down here. Lucas was missing and badly wounded. Time was no longer on their side. As she unlocked the door she said a quick silent prayer for Lucas and Ramon.

They were her friends...men she respected. If either of them died...

She refused to think like that.

Contrary to her orders, Drake waited in the parlor. "Medflight should be landing any moment," he told her.

Relief made her weak. "Good. I need to call Casey."

"I've already called Edgar. He said he would inform Casey immediately. He also suggested that we fax some of the photos to Casey's office so they can identify the woman, although Edgar was relatively sure who she was."

Blue remembered that Lucas had said that Rothman was a personal friend of Casey's.

"Victoria Colby," Drake went on. "She runs an elite private investigations agency in Chicago. Edgar feared that she might be in danger as well."

Blue knew the Colby Agency. She'd worked the tail end of a mission involving Lucas's niece, Piper Ryan, and the Colby Agency had been involved. Ric Martinez, the Colby agent a.s.signed to the case, was pretty unforgettable, she recalled as well.

"He wants any pictures we can find of Lowell for identification purposes."

Another idea surfaced amid Blue's chaotic thoughts. "Do you have a professional quality scanner with really high dpi? A five megapixel or better digital camera?"

Drake shrugged. "Sure. Rothman insisted I have only the best for communication purposes."

A smile slid across Blue's face. "All we need is one fingerprint on a gla.s.s or mirror, anything where it would be visible. Mission Recovery's lab can download it from the Net and use it to track down the ident.i.ty of this b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

An answering smile tilted Drake's lips. "You are good, Maggie Callahan."

She winked at him, knowing full well she was flirting. "That's what they tell me."

As she pa.s.sed Lowell's room on the way to Drake's quarters she smiled again as her mind formed a single word: Gotcha!

Chapter Eleven.

Noah watched Blue pace the floor as she conversed with Director Casey. They had spent the better part of the day going through Lowell's room and getting a good latent print downloaded and forwarded via the Internet to the Mission Recovery lab. Casey had immediately sent two of his top Specialists, along with a member of Mission Recovery's Housekeeping Team named Maverick who was acting as Blue's new backup to the island. Though they hadn't conversed other than a brief greeting, Noah was pretty sure Maverick was former military. About forty and quite physically fit, the man had the military demeanor down pat. He was accustomed to taking charge and he did it well. In addition, Victoria Colby had sent two of her finest agents as support.

They now knew that Lowell Kline's real name was Errol Leberman. Noah still had a hard time believing he'd been fooled so thoroughly. But, incredibly, it was true. According to Blue's director, Leberman had once been the archenemy of James Colby, Victoria's late husband. Blaming Colby for the murder of his family, he had ultimately been responsible for James Colby's death. Leberman had then gone underground and had not been heard from again until a few months ago.

Some of Victoria Colby's people had gathered intel indicating Leberman was on the move once more. One of Victoria's agents, a Simon Ruhl, had flown to Atlanta around noon to look into the art agent Noah had employed at Lowell's-Leberman's-urging. The man was oddly missing in action. It would take time to discover the tie-in between him and Leberman, if there was one, and Noah had a sneaking suspicion that there was. In his estimation, Leberman had a.s.sumed the ident.i.ty of Lowell Kline in order to avoid detection by the Colby Agency and to bide his time until he could lure Lucas Camp here. The real Lowell Kline was most likely dead.

Noah had no way of knowing how Leberman had discovered his situation and the ultimate connection to Lucas Camp through Edgar Rothman's friends.h.i.+p with Director Thomas Casey. He, however, agreed with Director Casey's conclusions. Leberman had likely found himself a mole on the inside. If that proved the case, it would take time to ferret out the mole as well. Right now, they didn't have time. The consensus was that Leberman's attack on Lucas was orchestrated to bait Victoria Colby.

None of this really had anything to do with Noah, it seemed. He was not foolish enough to believe that Bonner had learned his lesson and was a changed man. He would exact his revenge at some point in time, maybe tomorrow, maybe next year. But, as Noah had known all along, Bonner would not bother with warnings such as useless notes. He would merely strike. Just another reason Noah could never risk allowing anyone to get close to him. Any woman who cared for him would be a valuable mark for vengeance.

He glanced at the parlor's wall clock as the one in the entry hall counted the hour. One in the morning. Neither he nor Blue had gotten any more sleep. He doubted either of them would until Lucas was found. Ramon's condition was critical. The trajectory of the bullet had caused it to glance off his skull, which was extremely fortunate; however, the resulting fracture and acc.u.mulating blood clot had required emergency surgery. Having lost a significant amount of blood had increased the risk. According to Blue he was a strong man. She was certain he would pull through.

Noah didn't want to consider how much blood Lucas had lost by now or what condition he was in. At fifty, maybe fifty-five, he was no longer a young man. Again, Blue insisted that there was not a tougher man alive than Lucas Camp. If anyone could pull through this, he could. Noah desperately hoped so. He could see in her eyes how much Lucas meant to her. Beyond basic human compa.s.sion for the man who was a stranger to him, Noah hoped he survived so that Blue didn't suffer that loss.

She ended the telephone conversation and collapsed on the couch. "They're still canva.s.sing the island, but haven't found anything." She shook her head. "The island's not that big. Why can't they find him?"

Noah leaned forward and braced his elbows on his widespread knees. "There are many places to hide. Besides, Leberman could have taken Lucas off the island."

She forked her fingers through her hair and ma.s.saged the back of her head. "And where the h.e.l.l did he go? He left the sedan. He had to have help. Disappearing on foot with a wounded man incapable of walking would be impossible."

"A good strategist always plans for every contingency. He may have had other thugs at his beck and call," Noah reminded her of what she surely knew. She was weary with fatigue and worry, not thinking clearly. "Why don't you get some more sleep? I'll be right here." He leaned back in his chair. "Maverick's around here someplace. We'll keep watch."

She shook her head, then stood. "I couldn't sleep if I tried. I should make rounds. Check the locks." She straightened the shoulder holster she wore and suggested, "You could scan the monitor." When he made no move to follow her directions, that blue gaze that reminded him so much of his ocean collided with his and she added, "Drake, it's-"

"Noah," he corrected. "It's past time you stopped calling me Drake." He stood and moved purposely toward her.

"Noah," she conceded, "We have to-"

The telephone rang. Since the cordless receiver lay on the table next to the sofa, Blue answered it, no doubt grateful for the reprieve. There were things they needed to talk about, but, he supposed, now wasn't the time. Yet, the words burned inside him. Another time, he promised her silently as he watched the changing expressions on her face.

She listened to the caller for several seconds before saying, "We'd have to find transportation." She frowned. "I understand. Yes, sir." She depressed the Disconnect b.u.t.ton.

"What now?" Noah almost hated to ask.

"Apparently Victoria Colby received a telephone call a couple of hours ago indicating that Lucas had been found and that she should come to St. Gabriel right away."

"It was Leberman," Noah guessed.

She nodded. "Her second in command, Ian Michaels, has been trying to contact her for the past half hour to let her know that it's a setup, but she's already left the agency's private plane and apparently the call isn't getting through to her cell phone."

"Wasn't someone keeping her office informed?" Noah knew that the agency had already been advised of the possible threat to her.

"She received the call at home and no one knew she'd gone until about an hour ago. She gave the agent stationed at her house the slip."

Noah quirked an eyebrow. "She sounds a lot like you."

Blue placed the telephone handset back in its base. "She sounds a lot like she's headed for trouble. Casey wants me to head her off at the marina in Savannah. He doesn't want her on this island. Ian Michaels contacted Simon Ruhl in Atlanta. He's en route to Savannah to act as her personal security guard. I'll contact Maverick and have him take over here."

Noah shook his head. "No way. You're not going without me," he told her flatly. "Either let Maverick go or I go with you."