Every Beat (Covert Justice Book 1) Read online

  After the call from Bishop minutes earlier, the need for answers became that much more critical.

  Bishop had reported someone was snooping around asking about the details surrounding Agent Willows’ death, and the real James McCoy had boarded the flight from New Zealand that should be arriving in D.C. around midnight.

  The doctor blew out a loud, annoyed-sounding sigh. “Fine, but I won’t have you questioning her without me being present. In case there’s a problem.”

  He’d expected as much. He stopped in front of the woman’s hospital room. “As long as you stay out of the way unless you’re needed.”

  He started to push open the door when Brannon grabbed his arm. “You’ll need to know, her sister hasn’t left her bedside since we admitted her. She won’t now.”

  Travis took in this new bit of information. That would depend on whether or not she proved to be a problem. If so, he’d have her arrested.

  He pushed the door open and surveyed the room and its occupants. There were two. Sandoval and another woman, slightly older and similar in appearance. The sister.

  The two women seemed surprised by his sudden appearance. They glanced at each other and then to him. He needed Sandoval’s cooperation. The other woman was expendable.

  He shifted gears mid-stride. “Good morning, ladies.” He smiled and almost closed the door on Brannon who yelped and glared at him.

  The doctor pushed passed him to make the introductions. “Hannah, Ms. Simmons, this is er … James McCoy with the transplant unit. He’s here to answer any questions you might have, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  If anything, both women looked even more ill at ease. Travis hated dealing with civilians. He never knew how they’d react.

  “Hello, Ms. Sandoval, Ms. Simmons.” He attempted his best reassuring smile once more and held out his hand to Sandoval. Reluctantly she took it, her green eyes reflected extreme fear. Not the reaction he’d expected. She stared at their clasped hands for a long time and then pried hers free.

  “Ms. Sandoval, I hope you’re feeling better.”

  Hannah Sandoval swallowed visibly. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “Wh-what did you say your name was?”

  He could tell, right away, she didn’t recognize him. She did, however, recognize the name, which was not what he’d hoped for.

  “McCoy. James McCoy. I understand you’ve been asking about your donor Kate Willows?”

  He watched her digest his first attempt at proving her a liar. If possible, Sandoval grew paler. One slightly unsteady hand flew to her mouth. “No, how did you…”

  He smiled confidently, a crucial key to convincing anyone you were telling the truth. “It’s my business to know these things. I understand you are curious, but we must respect the donor family’s wishes.”

  Sandoval broke eye contact. Her hand pleated the sheet nervously. She didn’t trust him. The question was, did she believe his cover?

  “Was she murdered?” Her question threw him off his game. How did she know about Kate’s murder?

  He studied her for a second longer. Her choice of words wasn’t an accident. “Murdered?” he attempted a laugh. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Kate Willows was killed in a plane crash.”

  She was quick to call his bluff. “That’s not true. She was murdered.”

  Travis had the full story. At least what he believed was the full story, from Bishop. This woman had been mistakenly given Kate’s heart, and there were some case studies that seem to indicate that heart recipients could retain certain memories from their donors. If this were true, Hannah Sandoval was a huge threat to the investigation, not to mention her life could be in danger simply by publicizing that she had certain memories of Kate’s. Before he met Hannah he would have thought it was just so much garbage. Now, well, he wasn’t so sure. There was something in her eyes that reminded him of Kate.

  He kept his smile intact. “Kate Willows worked as a receptionist for a high tech company. Her death was simply an accident.”

  Travis couldn’t get a good read off her. Suddenly, it was as if a door had been slammed shut on her emotions.

  “That was the cover story,” she said almost to herself then shook her head as if she wasn’t quite sure.

  “I beg your pardon?” Had he heard her correctly? How would a civilian know an agent’s cover unless… He took out pen and paper and jotted a note.

  She watched him write without giving anything away. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

  Travis took in her body language. She’d sat up straighter in bed, a defensive move. He jotted that down as well then flipped the notebook closed. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Sandoval. In the future, I hope you will respect the Willows family’s wishes and direct any future questions to my office. Doctor Brannon can reach me at any time. I appreciate your cooperation.”

  He held out his hand once more and she stared at it for a moment before clasping it tight. “You used to be left handed,” she said and appeared confused.

  His smile froze. After a second, he recovered enough to release his hand and nod to the sister before leaving the room. Luckily, the doctor stayed behind.

  His good friend, James “Jase” McCoy was left handed. She knew he wasn’t McCoy. The only question now was how did she know? Because there was no way he believed she had Kate’s memories simply because she had her heart.

  * * * *

  “I can’t believe it…” Beverly expelled the words the second the man left. “Do you think he was really from the transplant unit? I could have sworn he had a gun tucked inside his jacket.”

  Hannah couldn’t stop shaking. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. There’s no way the day after you start asking questions about Kate Willows someone shows up here trying to spin a story. They’re hoping to keep us from asking anymore questions, which means something bad happened to her. Bev, we need to find out what it was.”

  Beverly looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you crazy? We don’t need to do anything but keep out of it. Whatever happened to Kate has someone spooked. We need to forget we ever knew anything about her before they find a reason to silence us. I should never have sneaked a peek at her file.” Bev’s gaze flew to Hannah’s. “Do you think your transplant nurse, Melinda, is somehow connected? I mean after I found out Kate’s name, I kinda asked Melinda about her. She didn’t tell me anything. She said she had no idea about the donor’s past. I think she was lying, though.”

  Hannah met her sister’s gaze. “I’m sure she knows something.”

  Beverly seemed to regret what she’d said. “We don’t know anything for sure and whatever happened to Kate is none of our business.”

  She patted Hannah’s hand. “If all goes well, you’ll be going home in a few days, and then we can put all of this behind us and concentrate on you getting better. Let it go, Hannah. Don’t dig into this any further. Whatever you find out won’t bring Kate back. The best thing you can do for her is live your life to the fullest. Marry Michael. Be happy. Above all else, let this thing with Kate go.”

  Chapter Three

  He’d deliberately scheduled his return flight so that he wouldn’t arrive in D.C. until after midnight. He hadn’t spoken to his partner Travis or their boss in over a month. The time away in New Zealand hadn’t eased the pain. It had gelled his decision to leave the CIA, though. This was it for him. As soon as he found Kate’s killers, he was gone.

  Getting through customs so late at night was a nightmare. Everyone who disembarked was suspect. Once he’d cleared the final hurdle, he grabbed his overnight bag and retrieved his truck from the airport’s extended parking. He should head to the apartment in Georgetown. Try to sleep. Tomorrow would be a difficult day. But the ghosts of their lives here together were everywhere, calling out to him. Reminding him of the time they’d shared together, and all but guaranteeing he’d never move beyond Kate.

  He drove to Arlington National Cemetery. Even in the dark, he could find her grave.

 
Kate Willows. Patriot. Lies. She was a woman who believed in a cause that didn’t exist. In the end, it had gotten her killed. Barely thirty and dead.

  There were times at night when he could almost imagine her beside him. She was just shy of six foot. If she stood on her tiptoes, she matched his six feet two. Her long black hair fell to her waist, sultry brown eyes watching his every move, reading him like a book. His Kate.

  She was a vegan and a health nut and had been trying to convert him since day one. She’d failed miserably. Growing up on a cattle ranch in central Texas, he’d been raised on beef and lots of it. He wasn’t about to give it up, not even for Kate.

  He hadn’t realized how much he loved her until it was too late. He missed her badly. He’d give just about anything to hold her one more time.

  The sight of the simple pink marble headstone was too much. He lost it. He’d shed a thousand tears, thought a dozen times he’d reached the end of them, and yet every little memory brought the return of them.

  He could almost hear her laughing at this new, sentimental Jase.

  “You wait until now to tell me how you feel? You always were slow on the uptake, Jase.”

  He scrubbed a calloused hand over bloodshot eyes. Kate always said what she felt, thought, or suspected. She was quick to give you a piece of her mind, and usually she was right. If the tables were turned, she’d analyze every clue without emotion, and she’d tell him, “Find the contact, and you’ll find out who did this. Find who killed me, Jase. Bring them to justice. For me. You owe me that much.”

  He dug in his pocket and brought out the locket he’d found amongst her things. The only piece of jewelry she ever wore. She’d told him her grandmother gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday. Jase placed it on the headstone.

  “I love you. I promise, I’ll find out what happened to you. I’ll find the person responsible, and I’ll kill them. For you, Kate. For you.”

  * * * *

  Jase was startled from a light sleep when the first bits of sunlight hit the driver’s side mirror and assaulted his eyes. He’d fallen asleep slumped over the steering wheel of his truck. The last time he looked at his watch it was after three.

  He stretched and winced as a couple of new aches and pains reminded him of something Kate loved to say; it wasn’t the year on the car, it was the miles. Jase scrubbed sleep from his eyes, sat up in the seat, and then glanced over at Kate’s headstone. Something inside him had hardened last night. The grief had morphed into a wall of hatred he’d probably never recover from.

  He glanced in the rear view mirror. It was reflected in his face as well, leaving its indelible mark in the deep etched grooves around his mouth, the squint lines marking both eyes. The furrow of his brow.

  “What does it matter?” He shoved the truck in gear. He’d planned to be at headquarters first thing to find out the progress being made on Kate’s case. Now he’d need to go home, shower, and drink a pot of coffee to be presentable.

  Jase spotted a vacant parking spot within walking distance of his apartment. He jogged the four flights of stairs and unlocked the door. Everything was as he’d left it. Nothing out of place, but her absence seemed to cling to everything. He ignored it and hit the shower. He only wanted to get out of there as quick as possible.

  He dressed in record time and was half way out the bedroom when he spotted the flashing red light on the answering machine and froze.

  No one called him here. Everyone who mattered knew where to find him. He punched the play button, heard silence and then the faint sound of a female voice.

  “Jase. Jase, are you there.” His pulse did a somersault as he replayed the brief message again and again. He didn’t recognize the woman’s voice, but he could name on one hand the number of people who called him Jase. There’d been only one woman.

  He called up the caller id on the machine. Bethesda Naval Hospital. Jase didn’t know anyone at the hospital.

  A weird coincidence? The churning ball in his gut that had been there since he returned to D.C. told him the time he’d spent in hell without sleep, wanting only to find Kate’s killer and be done with this cloak and dagger life, was just a jumping off point. Things were about to take a turn for the worse.

  * * * *

  The second he walked into the Covert Affairs Division at CIA headquarters in Langley, that fear became reality. He could tell by the way his colleagues stopped talking and turned away when he walked by something had happened.

  He ducked into Assistant Director Aaron Bishop’s office unannounced, surprising his longtime friend and colleague. He could count on Aaron to tell him the truth.

  “Jase? Man, I wasn’t expecting you in until tomorrow. We heard your flight arrived late.” Aaron stood and came round the desk to embrace him.

  Jase stood stock still, tamping down unfamiliar emotions. The last time he’d seen Aaron stood out in his memory. It had been at Kate’s funeral a little over six weeks earlier. A devastating day for him. For everyone.

  “I needed to get back into the groove,” Jase offered as way of explanation as he tried to clear away the lump in his throat. “What’s going on? The place is like a virtual gossip mill out there.”

  Aaron’s attempt at a laugh came out brittle and nothing like his usual heartfelt humor. “It’s good to have you back. Sit. Tell me how you are. How’s New Zealand? I haven’t heard from you. I tried to call.”

  Aaron was stalling. Whatever the news was, it wouldn’t be good. “Cut the pleasantries, my friend. We’ve known each other too long for that. What’s up? Has something broken on Kate’s case?”

  The heavy sigh spoke volumes. “Have a seat,” Aaron said. “There’s something you should know.”

  Jase was barely holding it together. Did he have the fortitude to put a face to Kate’s killer?

  “Has there been news from Kate’s contact in Afghanistan?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what? What is it?”

  Aaron didn’t answer right away. After what felt like forever, he shook his head. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Just say it.” His friend’s hesitation only fueled Jase’s dread.

  “Okay,” Aaron breathed the word out. “As you know, after they pronounced Kate dead, her body was put on life support and then flown to Bethesda Naval Hospital to harvest her organs—at her request. She left a donor card.”

  “I know all that. What’s this about, Aaron?” He barely kept the annoyance out of his voice.

  “There was a mix up at the hospital. Instead of Kate’s heart going to military personal, as is protocol, it was transplanted into a civilian.”

  Try as he might, Jase couldn’t even begin to understand what Aaron was trying to tell him. He’d been away for over a month, yet he still couldn’t think about her and not become emotional. He didn’t want to think about Kate’s heart going to anyone else.

  “So? What does it matter who received what?”

  Aaron held up a hand. “The woman who has Kate’s heart is, well, there’s been a concern.”

  “A concern?” The words tore from somewhere deep inside of him like a growl. “Aaron…”

  “The concern is she may have some residual … memories of Kate.” Aaron stopped and shook his head. “I know it sounds crazy.”

  Jase could almost feel the color drain from his face at an alarming rate. He couldn’t seem to gather enough air into his lungs.

  “Are you okay?” Aaron asked.

  Somehow, he registered the concern in Aaron’s tone, on his face. He couldn’t speak for the longest time, and when he could, it was hard to string together a coherent sentence. “That’s insane. The woman has Kate’s heart, not her mind.”

  Aaron blew out a sigh. “I know that, but there have been many documented cases where organ transplant recipients have this seemingly cellular memory of their donors. It’s not completely unheard of.”

  “How do you know she has Kate’s memories? What aren’t you telling me?”
/>   Aaron hesitated, no doubt trying to decide how much to tell someone who had become intimately involved with the victim. “I have a contact who is a nurse at Bethesda Naval Hospital. Melinda first alerted me to the situation. She was part of the transplant team. She said the woman, Hannah Sandoval, was in a coma for almost two weeks. The last few hours before she woke, she started talking. Melinda said the woman, an elementary school teacher, was talking about you … actually it was more like she was talking to you. She called you Jase. Not James—Jase, your nickname. And in her dream she described almost verbatim what happened to Kate that night in Afghanistan.”

  Aaron stopped to gather his breath. “Jase, she’s a teacher. She was teaching her first grade class the day Kate died. She collapsed that same afternoon. She wasn’t there, but she has to have a connection somehow if only by retaining some part of Kate’s memories. I spoke with her doctor. He said he’s seen a few cases like this before, mostly when the deceased died violently or when they had a strong emotionally connection to someone. Kate had both those things.”

  The knot in Jase’s stomach doubled.

  “So far, now that she’s awake, she hasn’t seemed to remember anything about Kate. Melinda said her memories of Kate only seem to happen in her dreams. Still, if this is legitimate we need try and find a way to uncover whatever information she has locked away.”

  Aaron held up both hands. “I know it sounds crazy, but as I’ve said, there are plenty of documented cases and right now, it’s all we have. There’s something else. We might have a bigger problem. If the people responsible for Kate’s murder find out about this woman, her life could be in danger. They’ll want to silence her before she remembers something incriminating.”

  Jase got to his feet and started for the door. “Then we need to act fast. She might be the key to bringing Kate’s killers to justice.”