Hidden Agenda

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 fluctuating between being amused and irritated. “Maybe you should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

Bailey frowned and pulled the covers up around her shoulders.

Ed wouldn’t be getting any rest, not knowing the fact that someone else had been in this house. Until he knew what was going on, he’d be on the lookout.

* * *

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows as Bailey opened her eyes. It seemed against all odds she’d fallen asleep. The last thing she remembered was staring at the fire, trying to figure out the craziness that had become her life. She’d been determined to stay awake, to keep a lookout for danger. So much for that plan.

She blinked a couple of times before everything came into focus. Ed squatted by the fire, adding more logs to the flames. He looked up when he noticed her stirring.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

She pushed herself up in the recliner. “Morning.”

Thoughts of yesterday continued to swirl in her head. The man. The threat. Lauren. Ed. Mr. Carter.

She nearly groaned. She’d so desperately wanted all of this to simply be a nightmare. Reality felt like a cold slap in the face.

She needed to think of a way to convince Ed to let her stay. She needed to look for that information. She’d wasted time already. She should have started looking last night, but she knew that she was under Ed’s watchful eye and she was no good at being sneaky.

“I’m not sure when the ferry will start running again,” she began. “But I was thinking about sticking around for a little bit longer, until things settle down a bit.”

“I’m nearly certain transportation to the mainland will be back up today. Half of the island evacuated, and I’m sure residents will be interested in getting back to check out the damage.”

“Yes, and a lot of them may need help,” Bailey countered, desperate to sound natural, despite the anxiety racing through her. “I’d hate to leave everyone in their time of need.”

“That’s kind of you, but don’t feel obligated. I know you need to look for another job.”

“As a matter of fact, your father arranged to have me paid for a few weeks after his death. That was just one more reason I stuck around to help tie up loose ends. I almost feel indebted to stay here and earn my keep.” Her heart pounded. The excuse sounded believable to her. Would Ed go for it?

Ed stood. “Sounds like my father. He liked to take care of people.”

Bailey shrugged, not ready to give up quite yet on convincing Ed. “Well, the people on the island have become like family. You should be there for family when they need you.”

Ed did the stare. The look was becoming all too familiar.

Bailey grabbed an apple from the table and stood up, stretching. She immediately missed her blankets. She had to push aside any sign of weakness, though, and prove herself to Ed.

She needed to somehow earn his trust while keeping him at arm’s length. There were still so many uncertainties about him; he was hiding something.

“I almost dread seeing the damage outside. Mr. Wilkins, the groundskeeper, evacuated before the storm,” Bailey said. “I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

Bailey strode over to the front door and pulled it open. She was expecting to survey the landscape outside. Instead, she stifled a scream at the towering figure standing there.

FIVE (#ub8749acc-9c9d-56b5-99cf-8ee369004dc7)

“I reckon since the power’s out, the doorbell’s not working. I’ve been standing here for five minutes. I’ve got a delivery for Ed Carter.”

Bailey nearly laughed at herself. The figure wasn’t quite as towering as she’d thought.

Alvin stood there. He was the town’s “chauffeur,” which really meant that he ran people around in his golf cart. He had two suitcases at his feet and, based on his tapping foot, he was in a hurry.

Ed stepped up behind Bailey. “Thanks, Alvin. I appreciate you bringing those by.”

“No problem.”

Ed reached into his wallet, pulled out some bills and slapped them into Alvin’s hands. “How’s the water level? Is the island still flooded?” Ed asked.

“It’s down right now, but only because it’s low tide,” Alvin said. “Come high tide, the bridge leading to your property is going to be covered again. That was one nasty storm. There’s no electricity on the island right now, and I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

“Let us know if anyone needs anything,” Ed offered, sounding halfway human for a change.

“Much obliged. Thank you.” Alvin tipped his hat and hurried back to his golf cart.

Bailey enjoyed hearing the accents of the locals. The island was once known to be a hiding spot for pirates. After the place was settled, the people who lived here had been so far removed from other civilization that the accent of the original English settlers had stuck around for decades. Only in recent years had it begun to fade as TVs became more popular and travel between the island and the mainland became easier.

Ed grabbed his luggage and set the suitcases inside the door. As he moved out of the way, Bailey got her first real glimpse of the outside in the morning sunlight.

The landscape looked as if a tornado had gone through. Tree limbs and leaves were everywhere. Part of someone’s roof was strewn in the distance, as well as some pickets and a trash can.

On the shore, mounds of seaweed and other “treasures” from the bay that often got washed onto the sand with storms were visible. No doubt there were sand dollars and horseshoe crabs and shells. There would also be litter—shoes, fishing line, pieces of damaged boats and piers.

It was going to take a lot of cleaning up to get this place back in order.

Now she just had to convince Ed that he needed her help to do so and that it was going to take more than an extra day or two.

“We’ve got a big job ahead of us this week,” she told him.

“We?” He raised an eyebrow.

She crossed her arms. “You need help. Admit it. You can’t clean all of this up on your own. You’re going to need to hire someone to help. It might as well be me. All I charge is room and board.”

He stared at her, that same incredulous expression on his face. “You want to help? After everything that happened last night? Even knowing that I still suspect you could have something to do with my father’s death?”

“I’ve already told you that I loved your father like he was my own. I’d never hurt him. And, yes, I really do want to help. I’m not one to leave things unfinished.”

Finally, he shrugged. “Well, I won’t turn it down. I will need help. At least for today.”

He walked over toward the fire and picked up a mug, taking a long sip.