Operation Second Honeymoon

Operation Second Honeymoon

Debra Webb

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Contents

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Copyright

Chapter One

Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, August 20, 1:00 p.m.

Lucas Camp gazed across the table at his lovely wife, Victoria. It was the most beautiful day and yet not nearly as beautiful as she was. Their seventh anniversary was coming up soon. The truth was he could no longer remember his life before she was a part of it, first as his best friend’s wife, then as his closest confidante, and finally as the woman with whom he would spend the rest of his days. She was the only woman he had ever loved, had ever wanted to share his life with.

“A penny for your thoughts.” She smiled and he melted a little more inside.

He, Lucas Camp, the master spy who had gathered intelligence in the most dangerous of places, against the deadliest of enemies, got all squishy just looking at her. “I’m simply enjoying the view.”

“Lucas,” she scolded gently, though he heard the delight in her voice his words had aroused, “we’ve been in Mexico only a few days. There is far too much to savor to be distracted by a sight you see at home every day.” She gestured to the mystic city around them that blended the past and present with the skill of an artist layering bold contemporary strokes of color against the historic sun-bleached whites. The small open-air café they’d chosen for lunch was nestled comfortably between a sleek art gallery and an old crumbling church. All accompanied by quiet conversations and the soft roar of the sea just a few steps away.

“Let’s walk.” Victoria rose from her chair, the pastel blue cotton dress she wore providing a stunning contrast to her innate elegance.

Lucas left payment for their meal and took his wife’s hand. As they strolled to the Malecon, he rubbed the gold band that encircled her ring finger. He would never forget the day he had placed it on her finger or the day she had removed the other band she’d worn for more than two decades. She’d knelt at the grave of James Colby, her first husband and Lucas’s best friend, and explained that she was finally ready to move on with her life. She’d carefully buried that golden band at the base of James’s headstone.

So much had happened since that day. Her son, Jim, had found his way home after nearly twenty years. As a child he had been abducted by an evil man who had sworn vengeance against the Colby family. Since Jim’s return, grandchildren had filled Lucas and Victoria’s lives.

Unfortunately there had also been the typical trials related to their work. Lucas had made many enemies in the world of intelligence gathering and adversary interception, as had the Colbys in their endeavors to right the wrongs done to those who sought help at the Colby Agency.

More recently, a newcomer, Slade Keaton, had created a disturbing series of ripples. He’d taken over the Equalizers, Jim’s private investigations firm that didn’t always play by the rules, and proceeded to insinuate himself into every level of Lucas and Victoria’s lives. There was something about Keaton and the way he watched their every move that nagged at Lucas. But Keaton was a forbidden topic on this vacation. Today, Lucas was focused on his wife. They were many, many miles from work. No one here knew their true identities. They were nothing more than a pair of tourists enjoying a late summer day in paradise. No work. No worries. Well, except for the small, carefully hidden weapon he carried beneath his jacket. Even Victoria understood that a man like Lucas would never be caught unarmed.

“I’m concerned that we haven’t heard from Sloan.”

Lucas chuckled. “Now who’s distracted?” Trevor Sloan lived near Chihuahua with his wife and two children. He had once worked with Victoria at the Colby Agency. He and his wife were, at this very moment, in the process of welcoming baby number three.

Victoria squeezed Lucas’s hand. “You’re right. Sloan will call when there’s news.”

“He will.” It was a flat-out miracle the agency hadn’t called. But then Mildred, Victoria’s assistant, had sworn that nothing outside an absolute emergency would interrupt their long-awaited second honeymoon.

“I’m looking forward to the visit to Pozos. The rebuilding Sloan described sounds marvelous.”

Mineral de Pozos was a small village in the central highlands of Mexico. Once a booming silver mining town, it had been nothing more than a ghost town until a few years ago. But a resurgence, prompted by artists from the U.S. and elsewhere, was underway. Sloan had helped to rebuild a small school there. His enthusiasm had inspired Victoria to suggest she and Lucas take a detour from their itinerary to visit the town. If Lucas knew his wife, and he did, she would be filling those new classrooms with computers and books and most anything else needed.

“Me, too. I think we should leave for Pozos early in the morning,” Lucas suggested. “Take our time. Stop along the way if we stumble upon something interesting.”

Victoria paused and turned to him. “Not too early, I hope.” She tiptoed and placed a kiss on his jaw. “Sleeping in again would be interesting, too.”

“Ten or so is certainly early enough.” Lucas savored the warmth her slightest touch initiated. A delectable array of fruit and soft, sweet cream from room service would be in order for breakfast. Rich coffee and perhaps juice. He would need his strength tomorrow if this morning was any indication. Contentment settled deep in his bones. This trip was exactly what they had needed.

“This is the shop I told you about.” She tugged him toward the open doors of a small, lovingly restored stone building filled with sixteenth-century-style pottery and stunningly colored masks.

Lucas indulged his wife though they’d explored dozens of shops exactly like this one already. She wandered the carefully orchestrated clutter, her expression filled with admiration as she touched the handmade treasures. Whatever her heart desired was exactly what his heart required.

Lucas stood at the large open window and watched the passersby on the street. Most were struck by the beauty of the sea that lapped languidly at the silky white beaches bordering the city. Or, like Victoria, were fascinated by the local artisans. But Lucas was more interested in the people. He was ever-conscious of his surroundings and those who roused his suspicions. No matter that he was far from work; old habits die hard.

A crowd of American tourists—they were as easy to spot as ketchup on a white shirt—strolled past the café where he and Victoria had dined. Hadn’t they read the warnings about traveling in Mexico? Don’t dress and act like a tourist. Lay off the jewelry and designer wear. Apparently they hadn’t gotten that part.

As the tourists walked on, Lucas noticed a lone diner sitting at the same table where he and Victoria had been only minutes before. Lucas frowned. The woman studied the menu but something about her profile seemed familiar.

As if she felt his attention on her, she turned and looked toward the shop and toward the window where he stood.

Their gazes locked across the distance as if it were mere inches rather than several yards. The fragrant sea air evacuated his lungs. Tension exploded inside him.

“Impossible.” The muttered word startled him despite its having crossed his lips.

Lucas hurried out the door, his prosthetic slowing his movements when only this morning he’d felt like a young, virile man half his age. He wove through the crowd that cut off his path in the street. His entire body shook by the time he reached the café.

The table was empty save for a stylishly stemmed glass of white wine.

Couldn’t have been her. Not possible.

“Por favor,” he said, stopping a passing waiter. “Where is the lady who was at this table a moment ago?”

“She had an emergency, senor. I am afraid she left. Was she expecting you?”

Lucas shook his head and thanked the man. He struggled to compose himself before walking away.

No. It could not have been her.

He surveyed the street, the people walking leisurely past. His gaze landed on Victoria, standing in the door of the shop obviously looking for him.

Lucas drew in a deep, ragged breath. Victoria waved to him. He waved back, manufacturing a smile.

Surely he had only seen someone who merely looked like her. It had been nearly thirty years…. Though the length of time mattered little, Lucas was certain that if he ever actually saw her again, he would know.

He smiled for his wife and banished thoughts of the past. Nothing and no one was going to ruin this special time.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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