been at this awhile. What’s your gut say?”
“To open it.”
“Then do it.”
She held her breath and double-clicked the file.
A password box came up.
“You know it?” Garrett asked.
“Maybe,” Laurel said. She typed in her sister’s anniversary.
Access denied.
Her children’s names.
Access denied.
Her birthday.
Access denied.
“One more shot and I’m locked out. I’ll have to start over,” Laurel said, rubbing her eyes. “I may not even get access to the file again.”
A long, slow breath escaped from Garrett. “You know your sister. Most of these passwords require at least one capital letter, one symbol and one number. And once you encrypt a file, if you forget the password, you’re screwed. She’d have to be able to remember it.”
Laurel drummed her fingers on the desk and sat back in the chair. She closed her eyes. “Ivy, what did you do?”
The room grew quiet, just the fan of the equipment breaking the silence.
Garrett didn’t chatter, didn’t interrupt her thoughts. She liked that about him. So many people didn’t know when to simply be quiet.
“I may have it.” She turned her head, meeting his gaze. “Ivy was older than me. She’d just started to date when Mom died. They had this special code. Even while Mom was in the hospital, she made Ivy promise to let her know if she was okay at nine o’clock. If there was trouble, there was a special message she’d leave on the pager.”
“What was the code?”
“Mom’s name, then nine-one-one, then an exclamation point. But if I’m wrong...”
“What do your instincts say?”
“That Ivy knew she was in danger and that she would pick something I knew.” Laurel kneaded the back of her neck, her eyes burning. “She knew there was trouble.”
“Do it.”
Laurel swerved around and placed her hands on the keyboard. She couldn’t make her fingers type in the password. What if she was wrong?
“Trust your gut.” Garrett placed his hand on her shoulder. “Do it.”
Laurel picked the keys out one at a time, taking extra care. Finally, she bit down on her lip and hit the enter key.
The machine whirred. The screen went blank.
“Please, no.” She half expected a message with red flashing lights and alarms to appear stating the file had been destroyed.
A few clicks sounded and the word-processing program sprang to life.
Ivy’s file opened. Laurel blinked. Then blinked again.
At the top of the file in bold letters were just a few words.
Derek Bradley is alive.
Alias: Sheriff Garrett Galloway.
* * *
THE WORDS SCREAMED from the page. Garrett groaned and gripped the wooden slats of the chair until his fingers cramped. Ivy had found out about him. This couldn’t be happening. If she knew...others knew as well.
James’s plan had failed. And God knew who he could trust.
Laurel launched out of her chair and faced him. “You are Derek Bradley? The traitor?” She backed away, shaking her head.
“Laurel—”
“You caused the deaths of dozens of agents. My father told me. He said you finally got paid back. You died with your wife...and daughter.” Her hand slapped against her mouth, and her eyes widened. “It was a car bomb.”
“I should have died. My wife and daughter did die,” Garrett said, his voice holding a bitterness that burned his throat. How many times had he begged to die only to have first James, then the doctors, fight to save him? How many weeks had he lain in his hospital bed planning revenge when he discovered who had taken them from him?
Laurel’s eyes were wide with horror. “Like Ivy.”
Garrett gave a stiff nod. “I was running late on my way home from the office. I’d promised my wife I’d get home early, but I’d been hell-bent on tracking down an insider. I’d discovered a few hints, nothing concrete, but enough to keep me asking questions, pursuing leads in areas where I had limited need to know.” He could barely look at the knowledge in her eyes. She knew what was coming, but he had to get it out. She had to understand. “I was running late, tying my tie. Lisa took my daughter and put her in the c-car.” He cleared his throat. “I’d just walked out the door, dropped my keys. Lisa was tired of waiting. She turned on the engine and it blew. I had my back to the car or else the explosion would have taken me out.”
“But why doesn’t everyone know you’re alive?”
Garrett shoved his hands back through his hair. “Your father. I don’t know how, but he knew something was wrong at the agency. He’d seen some questionable information cross his desk. I was being framed. He came by right after the bomb went off. Just lucky, I guess, because he fixed it.” Garrett raised his chin and met Laurel’s gaze. “Derek Bradley died that night with his family.”
Laurel’s entire body shook. “My father called you a traitor.”
“Your father didn’t know if I would survive. He knew I wouldn’t if whoever set the bomb realized their mistake. So he created a new identity and took me to a hospital in Texas, and I recuperated there. By the time I came out of the coma, I was dead and buried, and Garrett Galloway was born.”
“How could no one find out?”
“I was in a coma for months, under another name. James tried to identify the leak, but there were no leads. By the time I woke up the case was closed. I had several months of physical therapy.”
“If you’re telling the truth, why didn’t he warn Ivy?” Laurel’s pleading gaze tugged at Garrett. She paced back and forth, her movements jerky, uncoordinated. She swiped at her eyes. “Why didn’t my father protect Ivy? He could have told her to quit. She might still be alive.”
“I don’t know.” Garrett stepped in front of her and took her shoulders, tilting his head to force her to look him in the eyes. “I know your father. James McCallister loved his family more than anything. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I shouldn’t have stayed Garrett Galloway this long. I let your father convince me he was closing in on the traitor, that if they thought I was still dead they’d eventually get complacent. I agreed to
