Page 7 of Laura's Truth

“To kill me.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m no hired gun and you were already dead to him.”

“How did he learn differently?”

She shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.” Did he think she’d just hand him everything on a silver platter? “Want me to set up a meeting so you can clear the air?”

“No thanks. No time. Let him know my business here has nothing to do with him or his precious team. This doesn’t have to get ugly. If you leave me alone, I’ll do my job and be gone before you know it.”

“He’ll be so relieved.”

“Check with my handler—”

“You don’t have a handler.” Research access was a two-way street. She’d poked around his personnel jacket as far as her security clearance allowed. There’d been no way to be sure he was working outside of the blurry CIA lines until his eyes flared wide, confirming her instincts were right on target. It took the sting out of him noticing someone in the market that she’d missed. “Tell me what you’re really doing here. Last chance.” She cracked her knuckles while he debated which lie to feed her next.

“That’s classified.”

She felt her lips curve. “My clearance is up to date.”

“If I tell you anything, you become a target.”

“How long have you been in town?” He didn’t give her any reaction. She sighed, “You want me to believe that’s classified too. Garner, you’re not in the official system anymore.” She planted her hands on her waist, studying him. “Interesting how the Spoleto Festival has rubbed off on you.”

“What?”

He wasn’t an idiot and his timing couldn’t be a coincidence. He was in Charleston, along with people from all over the world, during the annual arts celebration for a specific reason. She wanted that reason. “I’ll give you credit, your theatrical skills are top notch. Too bad I’m not the gullible kind of audience.”

His features turned to stone and his gaze drifted to a point over her shoulder. “Give me a break.” He moved, quick as lightning, spinning her into his body and back into the cover of the overgrown plants. With her back against his chest, he held her tightly with an arm across her waist and his other hand pressing a cold blade to her throat. This close, feeling the tension radiating from every muscle in his body, she registered the size difference that gave him a distinct advantage.

The hold wasn’t anything she couldn’t break with leverage and the right angle, but she reconsidered as her vantage point changed. She reached back for her gun.

“Don’t,” he hissed at her ear.

“I can help,” she whispered. The stubble on his jaw rasped against her cheek as he shook his head ‘no’.

“Game’s up, Garner. Come on out.”

She felt the soft, cool earth under her shoes and knew they were standing on someone’s grave. She could only hope it didn’t become hers as well.

“You said you were alone,” he muttered in her ear.

“I am,” she replied between clenched teeth. From the shadows, with so much plant life between them, she couldn’t get a good look at the man who’d interrupted them, didn’t recognize the voice.

“You’ve lost a step. That old passport set off an alert at the airport.”

That did seem like a major slip for a man of Garner’s previous reputation and skill.

“Let’s all just chat a minute. You, me, and your friend Talbot, too.”

Who was this guy? She was clearly a hostage, not a friend. Her mind raced, wondering who’d sent this new player and how much he’d overheard. She didn’t have time to analyze further as Garner crept backward, his knife still at her throat, forcing her to move with him. Her shoe caught in a vine but stopping or going down risked injury—purposeful or otherwise. Shaking free of the vine’s grasp, she made too much noise and Garner muttered something uncomplimentary, jerking her bodily around a headstone and ducking low.

She heard the crunch of quick footsteps on the pavers and caught a glimpse of the menacing matte-black barrel of a serious weapon, complete with silencer.

That one detail changed her mind about everything. A stranger with a deadly weapon who knew both of their names. It didn’t give her much confidence that this would end in a good way. She was about to suggest they work together when Garner pushed her through a hedge and into an open courtyard flooded with sunlight.

Squinting, she rushed forward, looking for cover, but Garner caught her and hauled her in a different direction. The top rail of a wooden bench splintered as Garner passed it and Laura realized the shooter wasn’t trying to deter or disable, he was going for a gut shot. Someone wanted Garner to suffer as he left this world. Based on the little she knew about the former CIA officer, he probably deserved it.

Drawing her weapon, she aimed, but Garner reached back and knocked the gun away as he grabbed her, pulling her along. The gun skittered across the stones and she couldn’t recover it without making herself an easy target.

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