Secret Agent Santa

Spencer shrugged and refilled the coffee cup in his hand. He took a seat across from her. “When do you plan on telling him?”

“In our own time, Spencer.” She sent Mike a look from beneath her lashes. “Did you learn anything more about what happened last night?”

“The Security Council had an emergency meeting this morning, and the FBI gave us an initial report.”

She folded her hands around her cup, trying hard not to break it. “Anything you can pass along? Has anyone claimed credit?”

“Not yet.” Spencer slurped at his coffee. “Too bad this had to spoil your visit, Mitch.”

Mike reached across the table and curled his fingers around Claire’s. “I don’t plan on letting it ruin my visit. Of course, it’s a tragedy, and I’m sorry it happened in front of your house, at Claire’s event, but nothing can get in the way of our happiness.”

She sent Mike a weak smile. He was really laying it on thick.

“My house?” Spencer folded his arms on the table. “Is Claire hiding assets from you already?”

“Sir?” Mike’s fingers dug into her hand.

“This house belongs to Claire.” Spencer spread his arms. “This house and everything in it.”

“Mitchell and I haven’t gotten around to detailing our assets yet.” Heat crept up her chest and she took a gulp of chilled orange juice to keep it in check. She and Mike should’ve been covering this ground last night. Nothing much got past Spencer.

“Our—” Mike slid a glance at Ethan, busy marching his dinosaurs over a mound of scrambled eggs on his plate “—courtship was fast.”

“I have to admit, when you showed up last night, it was the first I’d heard of you, but then, Claire plays it close to the vest. So your announcement didn’t surprise me in the least, and it was quite welcome.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Mike gave her fingers one last squeeze before releasing her hand. “Are we still on for sightseeing today, or did the...accident change our plans?”

“I don’t see any reason why your plans should change.” Spencer pushed back from the table. “You might find a few monuments closed for security reasons, and you might have to drive through a few security checkpoints.”

“Maybe we’ll take a drive down to Virginia, Mount Vernon.” She tugged on Ethan’s ear. “You’re going to Mallory’s birthday party today.”

Ethan dropped his dinosaurs. “She’s gonna have cupcakes. She told me at school.”

“And pony rides.” She handed Ethan a napkin. “Wipe your face and I’ll help you get ready to go.”

Mike placed his own napkin by the side of his plate and smiled at Ethan. “Will you bring me a cupcake?”

“Yes. What color?”

“Surprise me.”

Spencer hunched forward and whispered, “I think we should send some security with Ethan and Lori to that party. Just to be on the safe side.”

She nodded. One more reason to get Ethan out of this town—and away from Spencer; not that her stepfather would ever hurt her son, but his connections might not be so sensitive.

* * *

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Claire was staring out the car window at a gray sky threatening another dusting of snow. She shivered and wound her blue scarf around her neck.

“Are you cold?” Mike’s fingers hovered at the dial of the car heater. “I can turn it up.”

“I’m fine.” She crossed her arms. “I’m just thinking about my stepfather sitting at that security meeting this morning, blood on his hands.”

“How can you be so sure he’s responsible, Claire? A few overheard conversations and a few suspicious emails don’t prove anything concrete, and we need concrete.”

“Be patient. You’re here, aren’t you? What I told Lola must’ve been convincing enough for her husband to send you out here to investigate.”

His gaze narrowed. “Do you want the truth?”

“Considering you’re my fiancé, that would be nice.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Funny.” He turned down the heat. “The truth is, you’re Lola’s friend. She’s worried about you.”

She clenched her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. After a few deep breaths, she smoothed her hands over the pressed denim covering her thighs and then clasped her knees. “Are you telling me that none of you believe my stepfather is up to his neck in something nefarious? The CIA director was just murdered—in front of my house on his way to our party.”

“Which may or may not have anything to do with Spencer Correll.”

A sharp pain stabbed her between the eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you here to help find evidence against my stepfather, or to play fiancé and protector to the poor, addled widow?”

“A little of both.” He held up his hand when she took a breath, clenching her fists in front of her. “Nobody thinks you’re poor and addled—especially not poor.”

“You’re insulting.” She blew out a breath and flicked her fingers in the air. “Turn around. The engagement is over, and you can leave.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That was insulting? I admit I’m brusque, comes from living in a world of subterfuge and secrets. When I have the opportunity to tell the truth, I take it. You want the truth, don’t you?”

“Lola doesn’t believe me?” Her nose stung. Lola Coburn was one of her oldest and best friends. She knew Lola had been concerned about her after Shane’s...death, but Lola had sounded so sincere on the phone.

“Lola believes you have every right to suspect Spencer of complicity in your mother’s death.”

“But not that he’s involved with a bunch of terrorists?”

“Nobody is dismissing that out of hand, Claire, and yes, the director’s murder is convenient for Senator Correll.”

“But...”

“No buts. I’m here to look into everything.”

“Including my mental health.” She scooted forward in her seat and tilted her head at him. “Why did Jack Coburn send one of his agents on what could very well be a wild-goose chase?”

“The truth again?”

“Why not? We seem to be on a roll.”

“I’m retiring. I’ve been in this business too long, and I’m on my way out.”

She scanned the touch of gray in the black hair at his temples and the lines in his rugged face. “So Jack asked if you’d mind checking in on the poor, addled widow on your way out?”

He reached out as quickly as a cat and chucked her beneath the chin. “Would you stop calling yourself that? You’re not poor or addled.”