Reegan Harper Novel

By Annagail Lynes

The International Intelligence Organization (IIO) has not been able to crack the case of what is really happening at the Gemini Compound. Agents go into the Compound and either die or change sides. They bring in their Troubleshooter Reagan "Wildfire" Harper to solve the case. She is bound and determined to solve the case, but she is harboring secrets of her own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781300748779

Book preview

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— one —

I know I'm gonna be just fine, I crooned as if I stood in front of a crowd of thousands, strumming my black bass guitar.  I stared out the window of my office for a second, looking at the calm, peaceful river that flowed a few feet away, then banged my head in the air as I sang, I make my own sunshine whoa, sunshine (Olivia Lane, 2016.  Make Your Own Sunshine.  On Olivia Lane Album.  LWP).

The river remained peaceful, calm, no matter what happened in the building in which I sat.  Chaos erupted every day, every minute, every second, in the building and yet the river never panicked, never moved from its purpose.  It became my center when things felt suffocating, unbearable, which could happen quite regularly, if I did not maintain my center.

Going on tour again, Wildfire, I heard a familiar, masculine voice interrupt from behind. I knew that voice.  The infliction.  The tone.  I still dreamed of him--the owner of the voice.  I still knew every scar, every tattoo, every mole.  I recalled the way his kisses woke every fiber of my body, how his arms used to engulf me and make me feel special.

I tossed back my red, wavy hair and turned in my seat to meet his gaze, to connect with his eyes that reminded me of chocolate drizzling on a brownie.  The eyes I used to get lost in at our meetings.  They seemed to be happy.  Were they happy to see me?  Happy because he regained his memories?  Happy because he returned to work, to solving cases again?

I let my emerald-green eyes run over him from the top of his long dreadlocks that reached his strong, muscular chest, down his dark face to his large, broad nose, then to his goatee.    My heart pounded like a jackhammer on a torn-up road.  He looked the same in his white t-shirt that he wore under his leather jacket, paired with jeans and his favorite, ratty, old sneakers.  No white hair.  No wrinkles.  No creases around his eyes.   

I nodded and agreed, The band and I go every year at this time.  We are sold out in every venue we are playing for the next three months.

That’s wonderful, he said, holding my gaze, I always knew you’d make it big.  I just thought I would be with you when--

I closed my eyes briefly and asked, Why weren’t you?  I knew where he had been.  I knew what had gone down with him in the last eleven years, but I didn’t know how much to reveal...and how quickly.  I also didn’t know how much he remembered. Did he remember us?  Did he remember what happened to Bella?

He and I never called each other by our given names.  His--Jesse Richard Grayson.  Mine--Reegan Grace Harper.  We called each other by our codenames.  He called me Wildfire, and I referred to him as Thunder.    Each person in our group had a natural events codename.

He moved toward me and wondered, Are you hungry?  Maybe we could discuss this over lunch?  He raised his eyebrows.

I set my guitar on the ground and folded my arms across my chest.  Eleven years, Thunder.  You have been gone eleven years.    I searched heaven and earth to find you that first year, but life happened.  One case, then another and another until here we are eleven years later.

He continued to close the gap between us and decided, You have every right to be mad.  I mean we finally declared our love for each other, spent months joined at the hip and then I disappeared.  You must have thought I didn’t care about you, that I didn’t love you.  He knelt beside me, took my hand and whispered, That isn’t true.  I loved you then.  I love you now.  I never stopped loving you.

Where have you been, I required, held his gaze as I tried to calm my racing heart.  Why did this man have this effect on me?  Why did my pulse quicken every time I saw him?

He said with grave deliberation, I am under a gag order from the I.I.O.  not to tell anyone.  Not even you about what happened over the last eleven years.  His eyes pleaded with me and added, You know if I could tell you, I would.  The International Intelligence Organization needs me to keep quiet about this because not everything is settled yet.  I promise I would have never dropped out of contact if it wasn’t necessary.

I pressed my lips together as not to reveal how much I already knew about the operation in which he had been involved.    The higher-ups recently brought me up to speed on Project: Alpha-Yankee-Zulu.  When they brought me in on cases, there was a problem, a wrinkle.  I was the escalation team.  The person who troubleshooted after a case already went awry.  I knew his part in it.  I knew what went wrong, but, after eleven years, and all my years in this business, I didn’t know who I could trust.  I’d seen too many people who claimed to be my friends double cross me.  I couldn’t be sure Thunder wouldn’t be one of them.  I didn’t want to believe he would after all the time we’d been friends...and lovers, but I didn’t know.

  I tilted my head to the side and broached, Listen, I am not sure about this, us, going back to business as usual.  At least not yet.      There is, however, some unfinished business between us that you need to know about.

Do you still love me?  Have you moved on?  Is that why you are being so aloof?  So standoffish?

Give me time, I countered, giving him a sidelong glance, because you disappear for eleven years, then reappear as quickly as you left with a story about an IIO gag order.  Let me process all this.   

He studied me as if he concentrated long enough, he would be able to read my thoughts.     

So much has gone down in the last eleven years.    Do you have a place to stay? The guest house is available if you need it. Maybe you can stop by for dinner or afterward.  I need to discuss something with you.

He raised his eyes and answered, I was going to stay in a hotel until I found a place,  but I would appreciate bunking in the guest house again.  He pinched his eyebrows together and wondered,  Why let me stay in your guest house if you need to process things?  Why invite me to dinner? I accept, by the way.

I drew in a sharp breath and replied,  You will find out at dinner.  How exactly would that conversation go?  My head spun just thinking about how I would tell him. 

Work or personal?

Both.  At dinner though.  I have someone to observe, I stated, running my fingers through my hair, so I will see you then.

He reached up and touched my necklace.  A rose gold ring surrounded by diamonds, along with a gold, heart-shaped locket, hung from the chain.    He observed, looking up at me, You still wear it.  That has to mean something, right?  That you still care about me?  Still have feelings for me?

I looked out at the river, observing it for a few moments, before I turned back to him.  My feelings for you at this point are irrelevant.  We need to lay our cards out on the table but not right now.  I need to clean up someone’s mess.  That’s what I do here now at the IIO--clean up messes.

How can your feelings for me be irrelevant?

Not now, Thunder.  I have work to do.  We will hash this out after dinner.

He stood, raked his eyes over me and started toward the door.  He looked back at me again, then reached for the knob.  He turned it, then disappeared out the door.    I waited a few beats before returning to my computer on my white parchment desk.  Framed pictures of my solved cases lined the walls behind me.  I hung every press clipping, a copy of the final paperwork submitted on every solved case, pictures with the victims just like the walls of my study at home held every press clipping, every photo, every program, from my band tours.

I cued the computer to show me the surveillance footage.  I watched on the screen as Thunder walked through the maze of hallways and elevators that made up IIO HQ, out the main doors and headed to his black Corvette parked in the parking lot.  I hated doing this to him.  I really did, but it had to be done.  We had to know the truth about whether he aligned himself with the other side.

++++++++

Reeg, Jesse is here, I heard Maddy scream as I came down the hallway of our five-bedroom, Victorian house to the door.  I could hear the annoyance in her voice.    As I approached, I saw my dark, red-haired sister with her hands on the hips of her black jeans.  Her pale green eyes ran over him as she wrinkled her button nose.  Nice of you to finally darken our doorstep, she continued, I would have thought if anything would have brought you back, it would have been Connor.  I guess you weren’t as good of friends as I thought.

I feigned a smile, looking over at Thunder who stood on the porch, and said, Hey, Thunder.  Come on in.  You remember my sister Madison?  He exchanged his white t-shirt for a white, button-down, long-sleeved shirt.  I wondered if he thought that would impress me.  I turned to Maddy and whispered, Power down, Mad.  I invited him over.  He just came back from his undercover assignment with the I.I.O, and I invited him to stay in the guesthouse.

She straightened out her Caribbean-blue, sleeveless blouse and stared at me.  She chided, Have you gone insane?  After what he did to you?  After what he put you through?  You are ready to take him back after all that’s happened?  I know he always had a spell on you, but really, Reeg, you are more intelligent than this.

Maddy, this isn’t about him and me, I countered, gesturing back to him, but about, pointing toward the kitchen.

When she caught my drift, she nodded and moved to the side to let him enter.  She told him, I have never liked you with my sister, and I really don’t now.  If you hurt my family, you will answer to me.  She put her arm around me and said next to my ear, I am taking my kids out for pizza.    We will be back later.

Then she ran up the stairs.  I didn’t understand how she could take the stairs so fast in heels.  I couldn’t even walk in heels and yet she wore them everywhere--to the store, to cook dinner, to climb stairs.  Don’t mind Maddy.  It is hard on her since Connor went away.  They just celebrated their tenth anniversary when--

He walked out on her…and you, questioned Thunder as he moved into the house.

I shook my head and said with grave deliberation, Someone shot and killed him three months ago.

He put his arm around me and voiced, Wildfire, I am so sorry. I didn’t know.  No wonder she is upset.  He motioned upstairs and posed, Does she know that you and Connor were---

Partners, I asked, tilting my head to look at him.  No.  She knows I caught the person who did it and put him in prison.  She has enough to deal with raising their two kids on her own.      They were living in the guest house, but I moved her and her kids in with me in the main house when Connor died.  She wants me to quit the I.I.O. because she is convinced something is going to happen to me too.

It must be hard, helping Maddy and their kids grieve when you are grieving him as well.  You and Connor were partners, Thunder maintained, holding my gaze, close friends.  You grew up together.    You dated for years before we finally admitted our feelings for one another.

I am the big sister.  It is what I do, I insisted, ushering him into the living room, being there for her like I did when I raised her after Mom and Dad died in that crash.  We needed each other.  Connor had been such a big part of our lives.  I can't  remember a time when he wasn't here, when he wasn't one phone call away.

A few minutes of silence ensued before he moved around the foyer and living room, observing. The place looks the same.  It doesn’t look like you changed anything.  He led me over to the dining area and added, touching the table that held four place settings, Same tablecloth, same table, same dishes.  He smiled.  It’s like I never left.

With kids living in this house, the table is usually scattered with textbooks, handouts and science projects, I answered, pulled out a chair and sat.  I motioned for him to  do the same, then gestured to the room.  I haven’t had time to redecorate with my cases, the band tours and the kids.  I thought about it and then something always came up.

He sat just as a ten-year-old girl with long, brown, wavy hair with skin the color of a cafe latte  bounced into the room, carrying a serving tray.  It held four plates of what appeared to be penne noodles, squash and broccoli.  She set the tray on the table and passed out the dishes.  A few seconds later, a ten-year-old boy with short, curly, brown hair with the same color skin and black glasses followed her with a pitcher of lemonade.  They studied the newcomer.

Mom, who’s he, the young girl wondered, gestured toward Thunder with one hand and fingered the gold locket around her neck with the other.  Does she know?  Did she make the connection?   

Thunder, I started, motioning to the children, these are my twins, Annie and Max.  Annie, Max, this is my friend, Thunder.  He hasn’t been home in eleven years.  He has been on an undercover mission to catch bad people.   

Thunder looked at the twins as they joined us at the table, then back at me several times.  He  required of Annie, Nice to meet you.  How old are you?

Ten, she responded, watching me take a bite of the pasta.  Mom, is it any good?

I think it tastes wonderful, I decided, putting another forkful to my mouth.  I turned in my seat to see Thunder, who moved his food around his plate as if he were sulking, Annie made dinner tonight for her Girl Scout cooking badge, and Max helped her.  I looked back over at Max, who scrutinized Thunder, and questioned, How did your project go today?

He pushed up his eyeglasses and rolled his eyes.  I wish I was doing it alone.  The teacher stuck me with this girl.  She isn’t into science.  She is one of those kids who is always doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes.  She plays guitar, so that part’s cool, but she doesn’t have any goals for her life.

She’s still young, Max, I countered, reaching across the table to touch his hand.  Not everyone has figured out what they want to do with their lives at ten like you.  Some people figure out what they want to do later in life like twenty or thirty.  I heard Thunder laughing.   

We all ate our pasta for a few moments before Thunder asked, Is your Mom taking you two on tour with her?

Yep, Annie responded, looking at him over the glass of her lemonade, Mom takes us every year.  We have this tiny house, and we sleep in a loft while we drive to the next city.  It’s really fun, hanging out with Mom and the band.  She filled him in on every detail of the tiny house, the concerts, how security sneaked her candy and treats.  No detail was too small.

Later in the kitchen as I filed the dishes in the dishwasher, I heard Thunder’s heavy steps approaching.  My heart pounded.  He knows.  He figured it out.  It doesn't take a rocket scientist to do the math.  Although he is definitely smart enough to be one. 

They are mine, aren’t they, he started, closing the gap between us.  Annie and Max are mine, aren’t they?  That’s what you wanted to discuss.  Why you were so insistent I come to dinner.

I shut the dishwasher door and leaned my back to the counter, folding my arms across my chest.  I provided, ticking the items off on my fingers, They are ten.  You are the only person I slept with during that time, so, yes, Annie and Max are your children. Whether or not, you want to be a part of their lives, is on you, but I thought you should know.  After Bella, I can understand if--

But they are my children.    I want to be a part of their lives, he moved closer, held the side of my face and whispered, inching his lips toward mine, and yours.  Let's get re-married and make one happy family.  As happy as we can be considering our oldest daughter is dead.  Oh that's right.    We still are married.    I'm curious as to why you never filed divorce papers when I dropped out of sight.   

I broke away and turned my back to him.  I hugged myself.  Look, things are really complicated right now, I started, feeling like my heart might jump out of my chest.   

He slipped his arms around me from behind and said next to my ear,  "We are good together.    You know that.    Whoever Mister Complicated is, just