Colby Conspiracy

Diabolical laughter echoed off the cold, damp walls of the dilapidated buildings crowding in on the place and time that now represented the rest of his life.

“You always were a softy,” his killer taunted. “I knew that when you fell for the wife of the victim. All that stopped you from being just like me was your so-called principles.” Another of those cruel sounds that couldn’t really be called a laugh split the eerie quiet. “You brought this on yourself, Hastings. You should have stayed out of it. I will not tolerate your interference. Don’t expect me to believe you’re finally willing to set aside those fine principles.”

Carter closed his eyes and said a final goodbye to the daughter he’d been less than a decent father to. Sent a quick prayer heavenward for the other woman whose life his long-ago actions would forever change. Now he would never have the chance to make up for his past sins.

The sound of the bullet exploded around him an instant before he felt the hot metal sear his brain.

Carter watched his killer walk away without a single backward glance. Then his eyes closed for the last time.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE STICK turned pink.

A surge of giddiness attacked Tasha North.

She was pregnant!

She and Jim were going to have a baby!

The idea of what a grandchild would mean to Victoria sent another thrill through Tasha. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone.

“Come on, North, you can’t expect me to believe you haven’t missed your work at the CIA.”

Tasha blinked and lugged her thoughts back to the here and now. “I’m sorry, Martin. What did you say?”

Martin, decked out in his typical uniform—an elegant designer suit—for schmoozing, stared, exasperated, at her from across the linen-draped table. “I fly all the way from D.C. to Chicago, bring you to one of the ritziest restaurants in town and I still don’t warrant your full attention.”

She smiled, tamped down her excitement and focused her attention on the man who had been her mentor in the CIA and who, as he so bluntly put it, had gone to all of this trouble in an attempt to lure her back to the Agency.

“I apologize, Martin.” She sighed. She couldn’t tell him the real reason for her distraction. “I’m just a little preoccupied.” Lord, what an understatement. As she’d gotten dressed this evening for his unexpected visit, she’d considered that a new wardrobe would be in order. Her tight little skirts, the ones Jim loved so much, and formfitting blouses would have to be traded in for something more readily expandable.

Another wave of giddiness washed over her.

Okay, she told herself, stay calm. It was all she could do not to float right up out of her chair. She couldn’t wait to tell Jim.

She glanced around the crowded restaurant. Martin was right. He’d brought her to Carmine’s, a very classy Italian restaurant filled with Chicago’s social elite. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she didn’t appreciate the gesture, however wasted it was.

“The CIA misses your talent,” he went on, moving past the awkward moment and diving straight into the heart of the matter. “You’ve only worked part-time for the Colby Agency this past year, desk work at that. Don’t you miss doing field work? Getting deep into the game?”

Truth was, she had gone on only one mission into the field, period, and that hadn’t even been for the CIA. Apparently Martin had forgotten that little detail. Lucas Camp had recruited her—stolen her from the CIA, actually—and sent her on a mission that would forever change her life.

That’s how she’d met her fiancé…the father of her child…the man she loved with her entire being. James Colby, Junior. Jim. The man who’d stolen her heart even before she’d known his true identity.

“Martin,” she said with genuine sincerity, “you will always be very special to me. But I won’t be coming back to the CIA.” Surely after a year, he should have come to terms with that reality. Her life was here now. She had no intention of giving up one moment of her time with Jim. Happiness bloomed in her chest all over again. She and Jim were pregnant! And in just a few weeks, they would be married. Her heart fluttered.

Her life was perfect. All that she’d dreamed of was coming true.

Martin sat back in his chair and heaved a disgusted sigh. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

She shook her head, feeling too incredibly blissful to be depressed by his blatant discontent with her decision. “Sorry, but this is what I want to do. I hope you can understand that.”

He exhaled another of those impatient breaths. “I suppose, deep down, I suspected this would be your answer.”

Tasha studied her longtime friend and mentor. Same dark hair and handsome mug that kept the new female recruits mesmerized, but there was something more in his eyes now, something she couldn’t quite read. Her gaze narrowed with an abrupt surge of suspicion.

“What’re you up to, Martin?” She remembered that final test he’d put her through last year before pronouncing her field worthy, knew exactly what this powerful man was capable of.

A grin slanted across his face. He reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and drew out an envelope. Plain, white. “You’re getting cynical on me, North.” He offered the envelope to her. “This is for you,” he said mysteriously.

Her uneasiness showing, Tasha accepted the envelope. “What’s this about?” The size and shape was consistent with that of a typical birthday card, but it wasn’t her birthday.

He nodded to the seemingly innocuous envelope. “Just open it.”

Dividing her attention between him and the envelope, she pulled loose the flap and reached inside. It was a card. She read the words embellishing the front and her heart leapt. Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.

He’d heard the news.

“Martin, you’re such a shit. You really had me thinking you were going to be upset if I didn’t come back to the CIA.” She clutched the card to her chest and smiled at him, tears burning in her eyes. God, she would not cry in front of him. He’d never let her live it down. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? You’re very special to me, North.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft and genuine. “I want you to be happy, even if it means you won’t ever be coming back to the Agency.” He gestured to the card once more. “Now, look inside.”

Confused, she opened the card and her mouth gaped at what it contained. A voucher for an all-expenses-paid, two-week honeymoon in Europe from a renowned travel agency here in Chicago. When she’d found her voice, she blurted, “Martin, this is too much! I can’t accept this.”

He winked. “Sure you can. You just tell Lucas Camp that he might have stolen you from me, but you still love me the best.” His lips tilted into that lopsided grin again. “Let’s see that old bastard top this.”

Tasha couldn’t help herself. She had to scoot from her seat and rush around the table to give him a hug. She did love him. He would always hold a special place in her heart, as well as her life.

AS THE TAXI traveled east on Division Street, Tasha barely contained the urge to dial Jim right then on her cell phone and give him the news. She shivered at the idea of how deliriously happy she knew he would be. She resisted the impulse. This was too important to do over the phone. It had to be done in person.

Jim had come so far the last few months. He had made great strides in coming to terms with the atrocities that had been done to him after he’d been kidnapped from his family at age seven. He’d progressed to the point of what most people would say was normal. Anyone who met him now would never suspect that just a year ago, he’d been a cold-blooded killer for hire. His primary mission in life had been to assassinate his own mother, whom he thought had abandoned him.

Tasha shuddered at the memories of just how ruthless the alter ego Seth had been. Jim Colby had been buried so deeply under that evil persona that reaching him had been almost impossible. Somehow, she had managed to do just that. Seth had grabbed on to what she’d offered—her heart and soul—and slowly but surely Jim Colby had resurfaced—been reborn.

She would be lying if she didn’t admit that there had been some aspects of Seth that had intrigued her—still did—but he was gone for good, and it was for the best. Her life with Jim was worth every moment of pain and uncertainty she’d endured with Seth.

No. There was no way she would ever go back to the CIA or anywhere else. Jim was her life now. Jim and the baby. She was perfectly content doing research for the Colby Agency on a part-time basis. She no longer felt that burning desire to prove herself or to make her mark among the superspies of the world. This was her life, and she adored every minute of every hour.

Being plain old Tasha North—soon to be Tasha Colby—fulfilled her every desire.

She’d fought the fight of her life and won, had walked away with the kind of love few ever found, and now they were about to move onto the next level…marriage and a family. The latter was a little sooner than expected, but she was definitely up to the challenge. The thought of carrying Jim’s child made her tremble with anticipation. She pressed her hand to her flat belly, closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Jim would be thrilled!

When the taxi reached her street in Old Town, Tasha dug out the fare and a nice tip. She looked up at the Queen Anne row house that she and Jim shared, a present from his mother, Victoria Colby-Camp. She loved the house. It was perfect. But Tasha hadn’t mentioned to Martin how she and Jim had gotten their cozy home. As much as she appreciated his wonderful gift, Victoria had cornered the market on gift giving. She had spent the last year trying to make up to her son for all they’d missed since his abduction nearly nineteen years ago.

Tasha hopped out of the cab and strolled up the walk to her door. She inhaled deeply of the night air, enjoying the clean scent of the recent rain that still lingered. She hesitated before unlocking the door and surveyed the sky and the stars that had peeked from behind the clouds. She wanted to remember everything about this night. Wanted it to hold a special place among the memories she and Jim were making together.

Another rush of pulse-tripping anticipation launched her back into gear. She couldn’t wait another second. She had to tell him the news.

No sooner had the key turned in the lock than the knob was twisted out of her hand and the door jerked open.