Page 54 of A Valiant Prince

“No. No,” I stammer.

“Logan, your mother was investigating anti-monarchists and her journalism background was the perfect cover to do it,” Jack says.

“But…I don’t understand,” I say.

“Your mother was a journalist, at first. You know she studied journalism and politics and minored in foreign language studies, right?” Jack asks me as though my mother was some unknown person to me.

“Of course,” I say, sounding a bit defensive.

“Well, a few years after she graduated, she was covering a story in the Middle East. She ended up uncovering an assassination plot. She was inadvertently pulled into an investigation. She had the access to individuals that some agents needed. However, she was so good at her job, her language skills, her knowledge of global politics that she was offered a position, and she accepted it.” Jack pauses, letting this sink in. My mind is blank at first and then bombarded by a million memories. All those times she was gone, now I wonder what top-secret mission she was on, what kind of danger she may have been in.

“Becoming…close…with your father, was not part of the plan. When she became pregnant with you…well, she had decisions to make. If her cover was blown, she now risked not only herself but both you and your father. As a member of a royal family, your father was told about the situation upon your birth. Once you were old enough to travel internationally, they decided it was best to feign a breakup and move you back to the States, for your own safety. Leah was given some time to be with you, but when you were old enough, she went back to work. Obviously, it’s harder when an agent has a family,” Jack says.

“Moving to the Bahamas…” I trail off and look up at him.

“Was part of the case she was working,” Jack says. “She was tracing financial movements by large corporations with ties to the anti-monarchists. There are a number of countries, many in the Caribbean, where it’s easy to launder money in offshore accounts. The Bahamas put her in a good location to travel amongst islands but also stay slightly separated. We were able to give her a cover story of freelancing for some U.S. papers to cover the politics of various Caribbean nations.”

“We?” I ask him.

Jack lets out a breath. “I worked with her for a short period of time. My expertise is more in the organized international crime world. Not surprisingly, those organizations also like to launder money in offshore accounts,” Jack explains.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Well…there’s more,” Jack says, taking a long sip of his beer.

I look at him. He seems almost uncomfortable.

“What aren’t you telling me, Jack?” I ask him.

“What do you know about your mother’s death?” Jack asks me. I don’t like where this is going, not one little bit.

“She died on impact in a car accident in Freeport. A man had a heart attack and his car plowed through the intersection and straight into hers. He was in a large van. She was in a small rental car. The rental car’s airbag didn’t deploy. Her lower half was pinned between the wheel and the seat, but her head went through the windshield. The blunt force trauma killed her, although I’m told her internal injuries would probably have killed her if the windshield had not,” I say, keeping my voice steady as I recite the medical examiner’s notes that I read and re-read after the accident.

“That man did not die of a natural heart attack,” Jack says.

“What?” I snarl, setting my beer down so heavily on the table that it splashes out of the bottle.

“He was injected with a chemical that causes heart failure,” Jack says. “He was a pawn. Her murder was calculated. It was planned. She was going to a meeting with an informant. That informant was later found dead, also from a heart attack. We were able to examine his body and found the needle mark. He still had traces of the chemical in his body. We had the driver’s body inspected after that prior to burial and concluded the same chemical was used on him as well. We were in the middle of the investigation, so no one was told, not even your grandparents know this information. It is classified. But I feel you must know this now. It’s too important,” Jack says.

“And why haven’t we been told this before,” I inquire, my mind half numb.

“Because…the investigation is still ongoing,” Jack announces.

My eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean, exactly?” I ask him.

“I mean…” Jack trails off and lowers his voice. “The anti-monarchist movement is not dead.”

My eyes might as well fall out of my head because I think I raised my forehead up enough that gravity could suck them from my skull.

“You mean…” I can’t even find the words.

Jack leans into me. “My unit has been keeping tabs on some individuals that we believe are still active as anti-monarchists. It’s not been on the front burner, as we didn’t think there was much traction for them. However, when Anna stumbled upon the bounty for you, all hell broke loose. Clearly, we underestimated the game plan,” he growls. He runs a hand through his hair. “I should have known better. It’s like a sleeper cell. You think it’s dead for years, and then boom.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You are telling me a sleeper cell of anti-monarchists are now after Anna’s and my family and that group also killed my mother who was investigating them?” I say.

Jack puts a finger over his mouth, indicating that I need to lower my voice.

“Aren’t they working for you?” I point out, motioning to the three men in the kitchen.

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