Page 26 of Secrets Beneath the Waves (Beach Read Thrillers #2)

CHAPTER

FOUR

Later that night

The conversation with her parents had been unsettling.

Her dad’s words echoed continually in her mind like a nagging headache. “What if one of the three guys you’re dating is the mole?”

Ellie now questioned everything, even the motives of the three guys she had been on dates with.

The unease lingered long after she’d crawled into bed, twisting in her gut and refusing to let her sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, doubts crept in like shadows, replaying conversations, stolen glances, and offhand comments she might’ve overlooked.

Were they truly interested in her, or was there something more beneath the surface? She stared at the ceiling, frustration mounting, knowing she may not find rest until she had answers.

Mark’s easy laugh, Luke’s sharp wit, Matthew’s quiet intensity—she trusted them in different ways. And yet, here she was, analyzing them like chess pieces on a board.

Her father had used the word reckless . Was she being strategic or reckless?

Ellie thought she knew how to tread carefully. Now her confidence was shaken.

Mark was disarming, but his innocence worried her. She replayed the chance meeting over and over again in her mind.

Did she actually approach him first? Now, she wasn’t so sure. She was trained to make meetings look innocent enough. What if he was as well? He was good looking and charming. He could’ve easily made sure she noticed him.

Her dad was right. How much did she know about him?

She hadn’t verified his work or anything about his past. She hadn’t looked at his social media accounts.

Although, if he looked at hers, he’d see nothing more than a big ruse.

Her entire persona had been fabricated. From pictures of her fake dog, to hikes on the Appalachian Trail.

All meant to add credibility to her cover story and fool anyone interested enough to look at it.

Ellie replayed her last date with Mark, dissecting every detail like a code waiting to be cracked. His laughter had been easy, his smile persuasive, but there had been a moment—just a flicker—that now refused to settle in her mind.

They’d been talking about travel. She casually mentioned her fabricated Appalachian Trail trip, testing the waters to see if he’d press for details. Instead, his response had been swift and confident. Too confident.

“Ah, the stretch near Clingmans Dome is brutal,” he said. “But the views make it worth it.”

At the time, she nodded along, relieved he didn’t ask questions about her supposed hiking experience. But now, in the quiet of her apartment, her stomach was in knots.

How did he know that detail?

Ellie had chosen the Appalachian Trail for her cover because it was popular but vast. She’d deliberately avoided mentioning specific landmarks in case someone tried to poke holes in her story. The photo she’d posted online, a stock image of a generic wooded path, had no landmarks visible.

Mark shouldn’t have known about specific parts of the trail unless he’d studied her fake profile carefully enough to fill in the gaps.

Her pulse quickened at the memory. She’d laughed it off then, but now the comment felt like a puzzle piece snapping into place. Could he have been testing her? Seeing if she’d make a mistake?

Her colleague with the CIA posed different problems. Luke’s confidence bordered on arrogance, making her wonder if he was hiding something. His background was easy enough to verify since he worked for the CIA. That meant he had passed lie detector tests, drug tests, and background checks.

But what did that really mean? Her parents taught her how to pass any lie detector test in the world.

While Luke’s loyalty to the Agency seemed unquestionable, how did she really know?

Even on their date, he had seemed a little standoffish. In his defense, she had as well. She backed off when he started to get too close. When he kissed her, she sensed he wanted even more, and she made an excuse to leave.

She thought the next day at work might be awkward, but they managed to work through the discomfort and even agreed to go out again. Her only interest in him was getting close enough to rule him in or out as a suspect, which was why she agreed to a second date.

It seemed like a good plan at the time. In retrospect, he agreed to a second date too eagerly.

One statement he made on their date now seemed out of place.

Luke had leaned back in his chair at the restaurant, his sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “What made you go into logistics?” he asked. “You seem like you’d be great at finding the weak links in a chain.”

It sounded like a compliment. At the time, she had even blushed, unsure how to respond. But now, the phrasing gnawed at her. Logistics was only her cover, a carefully constructed identity meant to explain her presence in the Cayman Islands.

Had Luke been testing her, fishing for a reaction? Or had it been an innocent remark, one she was now overanalyzing in the wake of her parents’ warnings? The thought unsettled her, making her question just how much he knew.

Finding the weak links. It wasn’t just what he said, but how he said it. Like he already knew. Logistics had nothing to do with weak links. It’s like he was speaking to her real role, not the one she was pretending to play.

Matthew was the wildcard. Surely, she could trust him. Her mom had arranged for him to serve as backup for her mission. Someone outside the Agency she could rely on if she ran into trouble.

And yet her dad gave him anything but a ringing endorsement. Was it because he wasn’t good enough to date his daughter, or did he have deeper concerns?

She remembered something small, almost imperceptible. When she went back to Matthew’s apartment, she saw a simple gray hoodie draped over a chair. Nothing unusual, except for the imprint of a flag on the sleeve.

Something Ellie recognized. Blue line on top. Yellow line on the bottom. The Ukrainian flag. A former Soviet state.

At the time, she chalked it up to coincidence. Lots of operatives bought secondhand clothes or wore apparel from countries where they worked. But they’d never wear them in public or around other operatives.

Did Matthew make a mistake? Was she not supposed to see it?

She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to figure it all out.

Her mother always told her that the best weapon a spy could have is instinct. Trust your gut, Ellie. It’ll save your life.

Before tonight, her gut told her that the three guys she was dating weren’t a threat. But what if her instincts were wrong? What if she’d missed something, some detail, some subtle movement that would’ve tipped her off to who these men were?

The thought seemed silly to her. Like she was being paranoid.

Now she regretted calling her parents. She’d done so to discuss the three men tailing her. That was her bigger worry. In fact, when she first decided to call, she was feeling good about herself. She thought her parents would be impressed with her ability to snuff out the threat.

Why did she even tell them about the three guys she was dating? She had intended to tell them about the three guys hunting her, but had gotten distracted with her love life.

The events of the day came rushing back to her briefly pushing her dating life to the background. She left the house at a different time than the day before. To stagger up her routine as her mom had taught her to do.

Thanks to her mother’s meticulous training—drilled into her since she was old enough to understand the phrase “situational awareness”—she began doing some extreme maneuvers to see if anyone was following her.

Slowing down. Speeding up. Pulling off the road, waiting, then getting back on the road. Four right turns in a row.

She spotted a particular car when she was getting close to the CIA offices. In fact, she felt it first. Her mom called it an instinct. A feeling of being watched. It had sent her senses into overdrive, and her keen eye expertly found what was out of place.

She didn’t panic when she spotted the first guy.

The red four-door sedan followed her for nearly ten minutes when she passed the office and drove toward the tourist area where there’d be more people.

When it turned off abruptly at an intersection, a fleeting sense of relief washed over her.

But it was too fleeting. An almost immediate sense of dread replaced it.

Her mother’s voice rang in her ears: Watch for the handoff.

Many operatives had lost their lives falling for the trick. When they thought the danger had passed, a second threat emerged that they weren’t prepared for.

In the rearview mirror, she spotted a blue-colored sedan pull out of a parking lot and begin to follow her.

It wasn’t close enough to be overt, but its persistence gnawed at her nerves.

She slowed to a near crawl, feigning interest in a roadside fruit stand.

The sedan mimicked her speed, its headlights glinting in the morning sun.

No more sudden movements, she reminded herself. Don’t let them know you’ve spotted them.

She merged into traffic again, scanning every car, every shadow in case another threat emerged. The island’s narrow streets were congested with tourists. It felt surreal. Her world on high alert while theirs moved at a carefree pace.

The second sedan eventually broke off. Ellie refused to relax. She thanked her mother under her breath for her painstaking training, when she spotted a third sedan. Different color, same slow, deliberate rhythm as it trailed her through a roundabout.

She pulled into a parking lot abruptly. The sedan cruised by slowly, and she caught a good glimpse of the driver. The man was Middle Eastern, sending a chill down her spine.

Ellie didn’t wait. She sped out of the parking lot in the opposite direction and took evasive actions to make sure she lost them.

Once she was satisfied, she went to the airport and ducked into a tourist shop, the gaudy displays of postcards and T-shirts offering temporary cover. A glance at a mirrored shelf caught the reflection of her blonde hair—a beacon, too noticeable.

In the restroom, she stuffed her hair under a baseball cap and slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses. The cheap tourist T-shirt she bought hung loosely on her frame, but it would do. Anything to make her blend in.

When she stepped back outside, she scanned the street quickly but didn’t see any sign of her pursuers. She went to the rental car counter and got a different car using a different name and ID her dad had made for her.

When she got on the road again, she kept her head on a swivel, constantly looking for threats.Many unanswered questions raced through her mind, matching her elevated heart rate. Why were the three men targeting her?

Was it someone who had a connection to her parents? They had made a lot of enemies over the years, but how did these men know she was their daughter? No one knew other than a few people within the CIA.

Another alternative, a more plausible theory, was that they were surveilling the CIA office. When they saw her approach, they decided to follow her and gather intelligence.

She drove around the island looking for the sedans. When it started to get dark and she hadn’t seen anything, she went back to her apartment and called her parents, intending to tell them about it. But she didn’t.

Why didn’t she?

She knew why.

They’d gotten distracted talking about the three guys she was dating.

The conversation had gone off the rails, when her love life became the focus of the discussion. She should’ve cut it off immediately. She was old enough to make her own decisions about who she dated.

Why had she been defensive about it? The spy game came with a lot of isolation. So, what if she was more outgoing than they were and went on some dates? They were older recluses and had each other. She should be allowed to have some fun on her own time.

She clenched her fists as frustration bubbled to the surface.

Thinking about the tenor of the conversation tasted bitter.

Mark, Luke, and Matthew might be her current puzzle, but the challenge of keeping feelings in check paled in comparison to what she was really up against.Three Middle Eastern men were a real threat to take seriously.

She thought again about calling her parents back even at the late hour, but talked herself out of it. They’d be on a plane within an hour of hanging up with her. Armed with more backup than she could ever ask for.

This was her mission. Her chance to prove herself—not just to them but to herself.

Three men were hunting her for whatever reason, and the game had shifted. This wasn’t about romance or finding a mole anymore. The mole was no longer the only one in the crosshairs. She was as well.

Tomorrow, she’d take the initiative and go on the offensive. The threat had to be neutralized. She couldn’t spend the entire mission looking over her shoulder or sleeping with one eye open.

Ellie got out of bed and double-checked the lock on the front door, her hand lingering on the bolt. She moved to the window, drawing back the curtain an inch. The dark street below looked empty, but she knew better than to relax. They were out there, somewhere. Watching. Waiting.

Tomorrow, the tables would turn. Ellie would make sure of it. Because if they wanted a hunt, they were about to find out just how dangerous their prey could be.