Jan Hambright

Camouflage Cowboy


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ignited a powder keg of guilt inside of him. He had to get it right this time.

      Caleb Marshall’s life now rested in his hands.

      NICK TRIED TO GET COMFORTABLE in one of the oversize leather wingback chairs clustered in the long gallery leading to Governor Lila Lockhart’s office, but it was useless. His body was simply reacting to the agitated state of his thoughts.

      Succumbing to frustration, he stood up and took to pacing back and forth as he fingered the DNA analysis report in his hand.

      The firm sound of his boot soles on the gleaming white marble floor echoed throughout the gallery, but he didn’t stop.

      He’d gotten himself involved in a conflict of interest that had the potential to blow up in his face, but he brought the image of little Caleb Marshall into his mind’s eye and felt his nerves relax.

      The little guy deserved a fighting chance, and if this meeting with the governor afforded Caleb that, then he would take whatever fallout it generated around his position at CSaI.

      Glancing up he spotted Parker McKenna as he stepped through the double doors at the end of the corridor and strode toward him with a frown on his face.

      “Sorry to keep you waiting, buddy, but the shooting attempt still has Lila rattled, and we picked up some movement around the perimeter of the grounds late last night on the security cameras. I put the place in lock-down while Matteo and Harlan checked it out.”

      “Not a problem.” He fell in step next to Parker as he turned and headed back toward the governor’s office doors. “Did you find anything in your sweep?”

      “A couple of boot tracks in the mud on the northeast corner of the grounds. No one trespassed beyond that point. We cast them for analysis. Matt is taking apart the surveillance video frame by frame, hoping to get a possible ID on the intruder.”

      “Could be whoever it was, was testing your preparedness, checking to see if you’ve beefed up the protection around Governor Lockhart. Could be they’re scouting for weaknesses in your defenses so they can make another attempt.”

      Parker stopped outside the doors. “Thanks for your input, Nick. I certainly wish you were involved in this investigation, but I understand you’re working on something else for the governor.”

      “Let me know if I can help with reconnaissance if you get a usable image off the video footage.”

      “I will.” Parker reached down and turned the knob on the right side door, then pushed it open.

      Nick stepped inside and listened to the soft click of the latch behind him.

      Governor Lila Lockhart looked up from her position behind the massive desk that dominated the antique-filled room. The place had once been her father’s safe haven. He only knew it for fact because team member Wade Coltrane had told him this was the place where Lila’s father had cut a land deal to help out a desperate Henry Kemp. A deal that had left the Lockharts rich and the Kemps struggling to hold on to the remainder of their ranch.

      “Agent Cavanaugh. Please, come in. I’m anxious to hear about your progress on the matter we discussed.”

      Nick encased his intentions in armor and walked to the desk, where he shook Lila’s outstretched hand.

      “I don’t have to tell you how sensitive this matter is.”

      “No.”

      “Good. Have a seat and tell me, were you able to get any information based on the license-plate number I saw the morning the family picked up the infant?” She stared at him with an unemotional intensity that spoke of analytical precision, but somewhere under her polished exterior she had to have an emotional response of some kind. That infant had been her child, her own flesh and blood.

      He shrugged it off and lowered himself into one of the two chairs in front of the desk. “I was able to trace the old plate number you gave me to a Claudine and Ralph Wilson in Amarillo. They’re both deceased now. A car accident four years ago.”

      For an instant Lila’s facade melted and her blue eyes took on a watery sheen that she easily blinked away. “And what of the child? Were you able to make a DNA match between us?”

      “Yes. She’s your daughter. She’s alive, well and living here in Freedom.”

      Lila sucked in a quick breath and leaned back in her chair. “Does she know I’m her birth mother and that I gave her up for adoption?”

      “No, but she’s here with the specific task of finding you.”

      “She must never learn of my identity, and I do not want to know hers. It could jeopardize my bid for the presidency and decimate my political career. The press and my pundits would have a field day with the information. Not even my press secretary would be able to spin the rhetoric before it destroyed me.”

      “There’s more to it, Governor. She has a sick child who needs a bone-marrow transplant. She needs a close blood relative as a donor. She’s a mother, and she’s desperate.”

      The color leaked from the governor’s face, then returned under her makeup in the form of rosy blotches on her cheeks. “So you believe she could be here to blackmail me into becoming the child’s donor, if she’s able to discover who I am, or she’ll torpedo my presidential aspirations with the scandal it could ignite?”

      Nick gritted his teeth. He’d been retained to make sure that scenario never took shape. “I’m monitoring her on a daily basis. She hasn’t discovered your identity. She’s been working from a redacted copy of the adoption order—that’s how she tracked you to Freedom—but you might consider beating her to the punch by becoming an anonymous donor for her child.”

      “I will not!” Lila’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Find out how much it’s going to cost me to keep her quiet. Better yet, I’ll pay out-of-pocket for a Texas statewide bone-marrow drive in Amarillo. Perhaps a donor can be found there.”

      Tension walked across the back of his neck. He found another focal point in the room, a set of longhorns protruding from a velvet-covered mounting. The governor’s callous response was wreaking havoc on his sense of right, but he hadn’t been handed this assignment so he could advocate for Grace on the other side. He’d been hired to make sure none of it ever came to light.

      “A lot of desperate recipients could benefit from that, Governor. Maybe even your own grandson.”

      “I’ll put the wheels in motion.” She nodded, showing no sign that the word grandson had even penetrated her seemingly glacial emotions.

      “Assure me you’ll continue to monitor the situation, keep her quiet and keep me informed?”

      “You have my word.” Nick gritted his teeth and stood up. Maybe the bone-marrow drive would produce a donor for Caleb. He had to hang hope on that.

      “Bart speaks highly of you, Agent Cavanaugh. That’s why I chose you to take this assignment. Don’t let me down.”

      He nodded to the governor and she went back to work on the papers scattered across the desktop in front of her.

      Nick went to the door. He grasped the knob, turned it and stepped out into the corridor, spotting Parker McKenna coming toward him at a fast clip.

      “Nick. I need you in the control room. Matt has isolated a couple frames of last night’s intruder. He’d like you to take a look. Says the guy looks familiar.”

      Pulling the door closed behind him, he fell in step next to Parker.

      “Let me guess. The thug from the hospital?”

      “He says it could be, but he wants you to take a look, as well. Back up his call.”

      Caution worked its way through him. It made sense that the guy who’d made sure Trevor Lewis never spoke again was the one who’d tried their defenses at the ranch. Could he be the shooter, as well?