Kathleen Brooks - Secrets Collide

Gemma closed her eyes, but images of Gia filled her mind. Of them skiing at Big Bear, at the beach, at graduation, and the hours they’d just talk on the phone when they first moved into their own apartments. The emptiness gripped her and she felt her body shudder. Fred curled closer and snuggled his small head into her shoulder. When the despair was so strong she felt as if she’d break, a warm hand touched her back. She leaned back into its heat and strength as she let the tears come.

“It’s okay, Gem.” Gia stood next to her as they looked up at their new high school. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re in good hands.” Gia reached down and held her hand. Gemma didn’t want to admit it, but starting at the new school scared her to death. But she didn’t have to admit it, her sister just knew.

The memory brought a sense of comfort to her as she let Cy rub gentle circles on her back. Gemma’s tears dried up and slowly her eyes closed as Gia talked to her through her dreams.

*     *     *

Sergei watched the boss pace back and forth in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows in his penthouse. He was in one of his moods. His boss ignored everyone in the room while he talked to himself.

“They’ll find you, just like that bitch did,” his boss mumbled as he turned around to pace the long length of the opulent living room once again. “No, they won’t. I haven’t been caught yet.” He turned again on his heel. “Sergei!”

“Right here, sir.” Sergei stepped forward as his boss returned to reality.

“Are they watching us?”

“Who, sir?” Sergei tried not to roll his eyes. It meant a lot more work for him when his boss was in this mood.

“You know who. Sweep the place for bugs and then find that damn woman. I need those flash drives. I know they exist. I know it,” his boss yelled as he slammed his hand on the shiny glass coffee table. “Ready the jet. I’m going back to Virginia.”

“Yes, sir.” Sergei knew he’d also have to sweep the massive mansion in McLean, Virginia, right outside Washington, D.C., before his boss even set foot inside. His paranoia was growing worse. Failing to retrieve that damn reporter’s research had pushed his boss over the edge.

His boss disappeared into one of his multiple panic rooms in the apartment. He had at least three in every property he owned. He never rented when he was in a new city; he just bought houses through shell corporations. He kept a few of them but sold the ones he wasn’t going to visit again. His theory was it was hard to find him when no one knew where he was going to be. The deeds would be signed and paid for in cash and then never recorded until after his business had been resolved and he left town.

“What do we do about that gossip reporter—the sister?” one of his underlings questioned as the other started sweeping the room for bugs, again.

“Find out everything you can about her. And for God’s sake, find out who that man was, too. A regular person does not walk around with a gun and have the ability to use it like that.”

Sergei took a silent breath and let it out. Detective Greene had been assigned to the case. When they hacked the LAPD, they found that the man who helped the woman wasn't Detective Greene. “The room’s clean.”

“I know. It was clean an hour ago, too, but sweep the rest of the penthouse anyway.” Sergei turned and walked out of the main part of the residence and into the small secure computer room where one of his men was already working on shifting through years of information on Gemma Perry.

Sergei took a seat at one of the desks and started inputting everything he could remember of the man he had come face-to-face with in that alley. He would find him. It might take more time than his boss wanted, but Sergei never gave up on a mission.

The plane hit the runway, rocking Gemma out of a restless sleep. She lifted her head off the window and saw that not only was Cy awake, he had also changed into a new shirt. He had shaved and it looked as if he’d slept well all night. On the other hand, Gemma was a wrinkled mess with her brunette hair sticking out in some places and stuck to her face in others. Right now she didn’t care if Cy had saved her, she hated him.

“How do you look so good?” Gemma accused.

“You think I look good?”

Gemma just rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re changed and clean.”

Cy’s phone beeped and Gemma instinctively looked down at the phone in his hands. If she didn’t feel like a hot mess before, then she sure did now after seeing a picture of an actress from the number one movie in the theaters in nothing but panties and a bra with a note asking why he wasn’t at her pajama party. Apparently she only wore sexy, mostly see-through underwear to bed.

Cy gave it a quick glance and then deleted it before pointing to the back of the plane. “There's a bathroom and our luggage is back there, too. Do you want to clean up before we get into town?” Cy stood up as the plane slowly taxied to the hangar at the small private airfield outside of Lexington.

Gemma didn’t bother to answer as she pushed past Cy, shoved Fred into his arms, and hurried to the back to find her luggage. She was so relieved to change and get cleaned up she didn’t even care that she heard Cy chuckle as she slammed the small door to the even smaller bathroom.

Gemma looked into the bathroom and realized what she had thought had been bad hair was a major understatement. Her hair was dirty and there were pieces of unidentified stuff clinging to it. Her face was smeared with dirt, dried sweat, and tear tracks. There were dark circles under her eyes and her normally clear eyes were red, dry, and swollen. Not the image she needed to see after that picture on Cy’s phone.

“Can this get any worse?” Gemma asked her reflection as she reached down to pull off her shirt. Her elbow connected to the door as pain shot down her funny bone. “I guess so,” she mumbled as she battled her shirt.

Finally, she had managed to toss the shirt onto the floor and turn on the water in the small sink. She looked at the reflection of her jeans and baby-blue push-up bra. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. They were going in twenty different directions at once and she needed all the voices in her head to stop for a while—or at least be narrowed down to just a couple.

She let her hands fill with cold water and splashed it onto her face. The simple act of washing her face invigorated her. Feeling adventurous, she bent over and splashed as much water as she could onto her hair and ran her fingers through it. It was definitely not up to Hollywood standards, but she felt as if she were ready to face whatever was next.

Gemma kept the window to the pickup truck rolled down as the warm air dried her wet hair. Fred enjoyed sticking his head out and letting his long white hair blow in the wind. “So, why didn’t your friend Ahmed stay around to pick us up?”

“He’s probably gathering intelligence,” Cy casually replied as he picked up his phone and punched in a number.

Gemma shrugged and looked out at the countryside as they drove along. A beat-up pickup truck was driving through the middle of a large fenced pasture, tossing out clumps of hay to the horses eagerly waiting in a line nearby. The morning sky was bright blue and dotted with puffy white clouds. The lack of smog seemed foreign to her as she took in the smells of grass and hay mixed into the country air.

“I’m almost home, Miles. I need your help,” Cy spoke into the phone. “Okay. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. It’ll be good to see you, too.”

She saw a slight smile come over his face and noticed it was different from his Hollywood smile. This one seemed real. The others were sexy in a smoldering way, but this one fit him. It softened his dangerous side and, quite frankly, intrigued her.

“Who’s Miles?” Gemma asked as she rolled up the window.

“My oldest brother.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“I have four brothers and one sister. Miles is the oldest. He owns a company that helps family farms secure big contracts. He recently married a girl named Morgan. She’s a former lobbyist who's now working as a consultant in Lexington. They’re expecting their first child next year. Then there’s Marshall. He used to own a private security firm, but now he’s the sheriff of Keeneston. His wife is Katelyn. She’s a veterinarian and heir to the Jacks Hotel franchise. They’re expecting a baby in the fall.”

“Oh my God . . . he’s married to Katelyn Jacks, the supermodel?” Gemma exclaimed. She had written an article on the dark side of modeling and had wanted to interview Katelyn, but her agent had politely refused, saying that Katelyn was no longer modeling. Apparently she was in vet school.

“Yep. But she’s not a model anymore. The only modeling she does is for my sister who designs hats. Anyway, next is Cade. He’s a high school biology teacher and the head football coach. He’s married to Annie who's a former DEA agent and now a deputy sheriff. They have the cutest daughter, Sophie. I’m next in line. Then Paige, who owns her own girly store and is married to Cole, who’s the head of the FBI office in Lexington. They have the most handsome boy, Ryan. Finally, there’s Pierce who just invented this amazing Cropbot, which is an agricultural robot. It’s so cool. Paige emailed me a demonstration and this thing can do everything. Pierce just got engaged to Tammy who's a receptionist at the law firm in town.”

“That’s one huge family. And you were right; your family sure does have resources. Your brother-in-law and sister-in-law will be a big help.” Gemma felt her spirits buoyed as they turned down yet another small narrow road outlined with black fences and rolling hills. “Your mother must be a saint.”