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“Wait, Wade.” Sunny clasped his arm, his muscles tensed under her grip. “Who are you calling? The police? Shouldn’t we hear more about the emails to make sure we don’t go off in the wrong direction?”
“I’ve done this your way since we started up the mountain. I’ve respected your boundaries, your way of doing things, your concerns for your family. Now it’s become bigger than us. Bigger than your family. It’s time to do this my way. It’s time to set off my emergency beacon so my people can locate us. We need to call in the reinforcements.”
***
The kitchen wall clock showed four in the morning.
Brett paced his way across the tile floor in the sleeping house. He couldn’t risk going into the bedroom since Andrea might wake up and note what time he’d come in. The sitter slept like a log and didn’t know yet that Andrea intended to fire her, so that wasn’t a problem. The sitter only woke up for the alarm connected to an emergency button in Andrea’s room and one on her chair.
He would stretch out on the sofa in the office. He would simply tell his wife he’d been at the plant late and didn’t want to wake her once he got home, pretty much the truth. A dim glow lit the hall. Every room had night-lights rechargeable by the sun, so no matter what time of day, even in a blackout, Andrea would be able to find her way around the house.
Soon, he would be able to offer her so much more without worrying about the IRS questioning where all his extra capital had come from.
Pushing the office door open very slowly to avoid creaking hinges… he stopped short. Andrea sat at the computer. Awake. Her hair draped in a long red ponytail over one shoulder, a splash of color across her green silk pajamas. She was like a living, breathing aurora borealis for him.
But she was also a creature of habit in some things, like always turning in early. So why wait up for him tonight?
Was she still hung up on the suspicion that he was cheating? He didn’t much care for having his itinerary checked, but he couldn’t afford to cause any ripples now. She would understand more—if not all—soon enough. At least he’d erased all the old correspondence and anything to do with Misty. He would have just bought a whole new computer but he was afraid that would arouse more suspicions.
He tossed his coat on the sofa, one she’d re-covered in fabric bought on safari. “I had to work late. You shouldn’t have waited up, although now that I see you, I’m glad you did.”
“Oh, really,” she said simply, keeping her back to him.
Her mood had been tough to gauge all day when he’d called, working at being an attentive husband.
Stopping beside her, he swiped aside her red hair to kiss his favorite spot on her neck. “Hello, beautiful.”
She reached back, her wrist grazing his cheek, as she always did, even if she didn’t answer. So close. They were so close to leaving this godforsaken patch of earth. So close to living a rich, full life together again.
His eyes opened… and he caught a glimpse of the computer screen. Of an email that began “Dear Misty…”
What the hell?
He straightened slowly as Andrea shifted aside, giving him a clear view. Damn it, he’d erased everything to and from Misty. He was certain. But as he scanned farther, he realized the note wasn’t from him.
The post had been written by Andrea.
You need to know that Brett isn’t who he says he is. I hope to God he hasn’t involved you in his dealings because if he has, there’s nothing I can do for you. But you need to know someone in your community is helping him blow up a power plant…
He stopped reading abruptly. Stunned. Appalled.
Scared.
He couldn’t possibly be seeing what he thought. How had she found out? And he prayed to God she hadn’t sent it yet.
“Andrea, what the hell have you done?”
“I should be asking you that, my love.” Finally, she glanced back over her shoulder, steely fury glinting in her emerald green eyes. “But I’m afraid I already know.”
His gut dropped harder than a ride in a g-force elevator.
“I thought we already cleared up this matter about the emails. Nothing is what you think.” He was scrambling for possible explanations. And he had to think fast or she would sense the lie. “Okay, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’ve been working with local authorities to uncover a plot at the plant.” His story was gaining speed in his mind. “The woman—Misty—is part of an ecoterrorist group that has been trying to blow up the place.”
That sounded good, plausible. Maybe he could pull this off. He watched every nuance of her face as she searched his, waiting for her verdict, already prepping his next words.
She shoved his shoulder weakly, but oh so effectively. Her rejection of him and his story was clear in her upper lip, curled in disgust. “How could you so underestimate me? The accident took away the use of my legs but it didn’t damage by mind. I know you so very well and I knew you were lying. And you should know I’m not the type of woman to let her man steamroll right over her.”
A deeper fear took root. She really had figured out his plan, or part of it anyway. His perfect plan that could actually be coming apart. But then his mind hitched on something she’d said.
