Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
Ben carried a box out of Claire’s apartment and loaded it into the back of the Denali. Trace shoved a box in after it, Alex piled a suitcase on top and Jake shoved in a basket filled with household cleaning supplies.
“That’s about it,” Jake said. “I think we got the last of her stuff out of there.”
Most of the furniture had been put into storage until they found a bigger house. At the moment, Claire was so wrapped up in making wedding plans they hadn’t had time to look.
It had been two weeks since their return to Houston. Ben had wanted to get married right away, but a big wedding took time to plan. Claire had picked Valentine’s Day, corny but, hey, the lady was a romantic, and anything she wanted was fine with him.
All Ben wanted was to put the wedding band that matched her engagement ring on her finger so that a-holes like Pete Bragg would know damned well she belonged to him. Ben was going to be grinning ear to ear on his wedding day, looking as besotted as Alex Justice had on his.
Ben no longer cared. Deep down, maybe he had known Claire was the woman for him the morning he had first seen her waiting impatiently on his front porch. She had come into his life and changed everything. Because of Claire, he had a woman and a son he loved, a family who loved him in return.
She walked out of her apartment, turned and locked the front door. “That’s everything. Jake got the last of it.”
“You ready to go?” Ben asked. Sam was staying with Mrs. McKenzie while they packed the last of Claire’s things. Claire would be staying in his house until the week before they were married. Then she’d be staying with her parents while they were in town for the wedding. Ben was already dreading the week without her.
“Let me check my mailbox one last time.” She went over and unlocked the glass-windowed box along a row that belonged to other tenants, looked curiously down at the six-by-nine manila envelope she took out, and walked back to him. The envelope, dog-eared and covered with postmarks, looked as if it had traveled cross-country.
“This went to my California address,” she said. “It was forwarded to my apartment. It took a couple of weeks to get here.”
Ben moved closer, looked over her shoulder as Claire ripped open the envelope and took out a piece of paper. “It... It’s from Michael. The note says, ‘Call me when you get this.’” She turned the envelope upside down and a plastic flash drive slid into her hand.
“Oh, God, Ben, this must be what Diego Santos was looking for.”
Jake walked up just then. “What is it?”
“Might be the information Santos tortured Michael Sullivan to get.”
Alex whistled as he joined them. “Let’s take it down to the office, see what’s on it.”
“Good idea,” Trace agreed. He, Jake and Alex headed for Trace’s Jeep Cherokee, piling in while Ben and Claire climbed into the Denali.
Being a Saturday, the office was closed. They all poured through the front door, and Ben led Claire over to his computer, started it up and plugged in the flash drive.
There were three files on the drive. Ben clicked on the first one. They watched as the screen filled with numbers.
“What is it?” Claire asked.
“Ship names and arrival dates,” Ben said.
Alex’s blue eyes fixed on the screen. “Looks like merchandise coming in from Colombia.”
“Colombia would fit,” Claire said. “Michael was down there for months doing a magazine feature on drug trafficking. He said he came to Houston to continue the work he started down there.”
“There’s a product list for each shipment,” Ben said. “Could be drugs.” Ben clicked on the next page.
“It’s drugs, all right,” Jake said. “Cocaine and plenty of it.”
Ben opened another file.
“Whoa!” Trace’s eyes widened. “Will you look at that?”
Ben leaned back in the chair. “Account numbers in the Cayman Islands. And look whose name is on them.”
“Congressman Ted Reynolds,” Jake said.
Alex peered down at the screen. “Wasn’t Reynolds the head of the Longshoremen’s Union before he got elected?”
“Sure enough,” Trace drawled. “Which would give him the kind of connections he’d need to pull off a shipping operation this size.”
“Michael knew Reynolds,” Claire added. “He mentioned being invited to his home for a party. I didn’t even think of it until you mentioned his name.”
“Maybe that’s how Sullivan got the info,” Ben said. “Went into Reynolds’s home computer and downloaded his personal data.”
“Michael was good,” Claire said. “One of the best investigative journalists in the country. If he had any idea Reynolds was involved in a drug operation, he would have looked for a way to get the information.”
“So Sullivan downloads the info and Reynolds finds out,” Jake said. “Then he hires Santos to get the flash drive back.”
Ben thought of Michael Sullivan’s bludgeoned face. “Maybe Sullivan gives Santos the one he had, but he was smart enough to have made a copy and sent it to Claire.”
“Maybe he sent the drive to the old address on purpose,” Trace said, “figuring it would take a while to get back to Houston. Give him some time.”
“Or he was in a hurry,” Claire said, “and my old address was the only one he knew without having to look it up.”
“Could be,” Alex agreed.
“Either way, we need to call Richard Haskins,” Jake said. Haskins was head of the DEA in Houston, a man Jake and Ben had both worked with before. “We need to get this to the Feds before Reynolds hires another hit man to come after Claire.”
Ben’s stomach knotted. He wanted Claire safe. He wasn’t about to lose her again. “Call him,” he said darkly, and Jake picked up the phone.
* * *
By the end of the following day, Congressman Theodore Reynolds was in custody. Though the man had been released on a ten-million-dollar bond, Reynolds now knew the police had the disk Sullivan had made, which meant Claire was no longer in danger.
“I guess it really is over this time,” she said that evening after supper. Sam was already in bed for the night, and the two of them were sitting together on the sofa. “I think Michael is resting easier knowing he didn’t die for nothing.”
“And I’m resting a helluva lot easier knowing you’re safe.”
Claire turned and slid her arms around his neck. “I love you so much.”
Ben pulled her into his lap and kissed her. “I love you, too, angel.” He was surprised how easily the phrase slid off his tongue. Thanks to Claire and Sam, he was a different man than he had been—freer, more at peace with himself, his world a far brighter place than it had been before.
He thought of the morning Claire had shown up on his porch desperately needing him to help her find his son. The son he hadn’t known he had, by a woman he had both loved and hated.
Ben looked at Claire and thought how much he loved her, thought of his son and knew what a lucky man he was to have found him. He thought how the two of them had helped mend his heart, and silently thanked Laura for the gift she had given him.
Ben wished her peace in her eternal slumber.
* * * * *