Page 8 of Covert Past

Hank was a direct, no-holds-barred kind of person. She’d told him once that her father and her son had served in the military as well. He and Hank had connected during slow times at the coffeehouse.

They’d had quite a few heart-to-hearts. Hank had lost her son to the Afghanistan war. She told him she was grateful her father hadn’t been around to live through the pain.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Boone said in way of an answer. He glanced to Ellie and nodded.

She didn’t respond to his greeting.

“Pull up a chair. Ellie and I were just gabbing.”

Boone’s lips twitched. Ellie didn’t appear to be the type to “gab.” He dragged out one of the stools near the counter.

Hank, anticipating his wishes, poured black coffee before she crooked a thumb Ellie’s way. “You two meet earlier?”

“We did.” Ellie confirmed while casting a look Boone’s way.

“Ellie’s my new barista.” Hank set a cup of coffee in front of him.

He faked surprise. “Really?”

Ellie couldn’t have looked more ill at ease. “I thought I’d try something different.” She shrugged and reached for her cup.

“Sounds like me. I’d never been a private investigator until I came here.”

Her eyes widened without asking the question.

“Boone here joined the Hope Island Securities Team a few months back. And he’s single.” Hank gave him a wink.

He shook his head. Hank meant well, but he was too mixed up inside for a relationship. At least for the time being.

Ellie ignored the comment entirely.

“Well, I’ve shown you around the place and explained everything.” Hank glanced out the window. “And I don’t think we’re going to see too many more customers tonight.” She faced her new employee. “You feel up to closing the place for me?”

Ellie hesitated, clearly not wanting to be alone with Boone.

“Good.” Hank dug out the extra key from her pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Bright and early.” She removed her apron and fished her purse out from under the counter. “Be sure to lock the back door before you go.”

Hank gave them a little wave then left.

Boone laughed despite the awkward situation. “Looks like you are officially a barista.”

Ellie stared at the key in her hand before shaking her head. “I guess you’re right.” She refilled his cup and then hers. “What branch of military?”

He inclined his head. She’d sized him up too. “Navy SEAL.” He left out the part about the CIA.

“Afghanistan?”

He looked at her curiously. “Some. Other places—other wars as well.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask. “And you?”

Ellie immediately grew cautious. “I’ve done a lot of different jobs.” Her answer could not have been more evasive. She wasn’t ready to give the truth—she didn’t trust him yet. He’d have to do something to fix that because he had a feeling Ellie needed someone she couldtruly talk to.

“What brought you to Hope Island?”

She kept watch out the window as if expecting someone. Boone recalled the men who spoke Arabic earlier. Were they here as simple visitors to the island or was there something else going on?

He’d sent his CIA contact Eli’s photos of the men who had him worried. Boone had recognized them from earlier outside the coffeehouse and told Eli as much.

He’d been a bit surprised there hadn’t been a hit on any of the Agency’s databases. Regardless, the encounter had both him and Eli concerned. On a whim, he’d included the photo he’d taken of Ellie and was surprised when her image hadn’t triggered in any of the databases. His gut told him she was a spy. He didn’t believe for any of the US’s intelligence agencies, but definitely somewhere.

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