Enemy Infiltration

“I don’t know if you can blame the military, Lana. There’s something going on, something secretive, something so deep cover I don’t think even the top brass knows what’s happening.”

“And you believe it has something to do with Major Denver.”

“I know it does.”

“Why did he take off? Why not stay and fight the charges against him?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to wage a war on your own terms. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” She jabbed her straw into her glass so hard, a chip of ice flew onto the table and skittered toward him.

Logan dabbed at the ice with the tip of his finger. “I think he could see the net closing in on him and he understood that it was a trap—especially for him. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s fighting. He’s doing it his own way.”

“I can understand that.”

She gazed over his shoulder as if at something in the distance, and he wondered what battles Lana had undertaken on her own.

Several minutes later, Gabby slipped the check out of her pocket and waved it over the table. “Anything else?”

“Not for me. Logan?”

“Anything more than that burrito?” He plucked the check from Gabby’s fingers. “No way.”

She picked up their plates and spun away, calling over her shoulder. “See you next time, Lana.”

Lana stretched out her arm to him and wiggled her fingers. “How much do I owe?”

“I’ll take care of it on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You keep me updated on Gil’s journal and anything else you find.”

“And you do the same.”

“Deal.”

“It seems like we’ll be helping each other, so we can split the check, too.”

“I’m the one who suggested lunch. You can get the next one.”

She plunged her hand into her purse and pulled out a wallet. “Let me get the tip.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be generous with the tip.” He added a few more bills to the pile and held it out to her. “Is this okay?”

“More than generous.”

“You’re kind of a control freak, aren’t you?”

“You could say that.” She stood up and pulled her jacket from the back of her chair. “Where are you staying?”

“The Greenvale Inn and Suites back by the congressman’s office, but I’m not going there right now.” He reached the front door of the restaurant before she did and held it open for her.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m following you back to your place. You said you were expecting a delivery of your brother’s possessions any day, and I’m going to hold you to your word.”

“All right.” She flicked up the collar of her jacket. “I want to show you something in that report, anyway. Have you read it?”

“I’ve seen bits and pieces of it, not the entire report.”

“The report is bits and pieces. There’s so much redaction, it’s hard to read.”

He could believe that. There would be secrecy surrounding an embassy outpost like that even without an attack. “Your address?”

“Just follow me. It’ll be easier.”

He did follow her, right to her truck, and opened the heavy door after she’d unlocked it.

She placed one boot on the running board and hopped into the driver’s seat. “It’s about a forty-minute drive.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

He followed her out of town and along the two-lane highway. He hadn’t given too much thought to Lana’s housing situation, but didn’t expect her to live out in the boonies like this.

Farmland rolled past his window, and occasionally he got a whiff of fresh manure, a smell that reminded him of home.

After about forty minutes of driving, the right indicator on Lana’s truck flashed on and off and she slowed down. She turned and drove the truck between two posts onto a small paved road.

As Logan took his car through the posts, he tried to read the writing carved on the sides but it was too small. Lana lived on a ranch. Was it hers? Her husband’s?

The thought of a husband lurking beyond the gate up ahead socked him in the gut, but he brushed it aside. If Lana Moreno had a husband, she wouldn’t be running around on her own trying to get closure on Gil. And if she had a husband and he allowed her to do this on her own, the guy didn’t deserve her.

As Lana’s truck approached the main gate to the ranch, Logan threw his car into Park and jumped out. He jogged to the gate, unhitched it and swung it wide.

Lana waved as she drove through and then waited for him while he followed with his car. He pulled up behind her, left his car idling, closed the gate and slid back into his rental.

He kept after her as she wound up the road past a horse riding ring and a pasture. Her truck rattled past the big house that had a later-model truck than hers and a minivan parked in the front.

He didn’t take her for a minivan type, anyway. She kept driving toward a stand of trees and then curved around them, pulling alongside a much-smaller house than the one in front and hidden from the view of the road.

He left his rental car several feet behind her truck. When he got out, she was halfway to the porch.

“I think it’s here.” Her boots clattered on the wooden steps of the front porch.

By the time he joined her, she’d sunk beside a box by the front door and had slid a knife along the taped seam.

As she made a grab for one loose flap, he said, “Let me get it inside for you first.”