"She has a right to know what's going on," Jed said. "Her life is in danger. She had a dead body dumped at her gate tonight."
"What's going on there with you two?" Sawyer asked. "You sound as if you've gotten personally involved with Ms. Beaumont. Tell me you haven't."
"Whether I have or not isn't the issue, the issue is-"
"Damn it, man, you've known her only a few days, just how serious could things have gotten in that length of time? And you're right-the issue isn't whether you've got the hots for Grace Beaumont. It's that Dundee 's, and therefore you, are part of a major operation involving the Federal government. There's a hell of a lot more at stake than just proving Dean Beaumont's and Byram Sheffield's deaths were murder."
"Don't you think I, of all people, know that," Jed snapped. "I'm telling you that Grace can be trusted with the truth."
"The Bureau isn't going to see it that way."
"Screw the Bureau."
"Look, we're going to keep Ms. Beaumont safe-you, Dom, Kate, Rafe and J.J. When this is all over, she'll be alive and we'll have Fortier behind bars for the rest of his life. What more could she want?"
"Grace wants to know whatever I'm not telling her. It's not the information that's so important to her, it's the fact that I'm keeping something from her. She's the type who doesn't like being kept in the dark-about anything. Besides, she's smart. She'll probably start figuring it out pretty soon."
Sawyer groaned. "Use some of that good-old-boy charm of yours and feed her a line of bull. You've charmed many a woman, haven't you? This wouldn't be any different."
"I'm not going to lie to Grace. I won't fabricate some story to pacify her."
"There's no way Moran will give you permission to share secret information with her. Too much is at risk, including the life of the agent working undercover."
"Maybe I won't ask Moran."
"Don't you go off half-cocked and do something stupid," Sawyer said.
"Get this straight-I'm telling her something, even if it's only half the truth. I've already told her that I'm going to see Booth tomorrow and that I'm attending Jaron's funeral. "
"Did you tell her that you're Fortier's nephew?"
Every muscle in Jed's body froze. He wanted to tell Grace everything-everything except that. "No, I haven't."
"She'll find out eventually," Sawyer reminded him. "Maybe your personal history with Fortier is what you should share with her, not the details of a highly confidential and potentially deadly FBI operation."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Jed knew he wasn't going to tell Grace that he was Booth's nephew. Not yet. Not until he had no other choice. "The other reason I called is so you can tell Moran that if he wants to give me a last-minute briefing, he should call before nine. I'll be leaving then for Beaulac to pay a visit on my uncle."
"I'll let Moran know that you're set to make contact with his agent tomorrow. And as far as the other, don't let your dick do your thinking," Sawyer warned. "If you do, you could wind up in trouble with the Feds and you could also lose your job at Dundee 's."
"Mmm-hmm. Sounds like a win-win situation."
Sawyer harrumphed. "You're going to do whatever the hell you want to do, regardless of what I say. Why bother even asking me?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do," Jed said honestly. "But I do know that my first priority is Grace Beaumont."
"Bringing Booth Fortier down will be in Ms. Beaumont's best interest. Just remember that."
"Yeah, I'll remember." Jed hit the Off button on his phone.
He'd pretty much known before he called Sawyer what Dundee 's CEO would say. Hell, the guy was a former Fed. And Jed knew that as much as he wanted to come clean with Grace, he couldn't. If by keeping silent, he had to face her wrath, he could handle it-even if she stayed angry with him until this assignment was completed. But it sure would make things easier for him if he could tell her something. Anything to appease her curiosity. Okay, Tyree, just how much can you tell her and not jeopardize the operation?
Of course the wise thing would be to tell her nothing. He could just go to bed right now, get a few hours of sleep before leaving for Beaulac, and then face Grace later in the day. As much as he hated to leave her under someone else's protection, he trusted Dom and Kate to keep Grace safe. But by not coming clean with her, all he was doing was putting off the inevitable.
He paced the room in his sock feet. Sometimes avoiding an issue was a solution. A temporary solution. He sat on the edge of the bed, yanked off his socks, then unbuttoned his shirt. If he told Grace that Booth Fortier was his uncle, would that satisfy her curiosity? If he swore to her that he hated the man as much as she did, would she believe him? Or would she distrust him, turn against him, fire him as her bodyguard?
Jed removed his shirt and hung it on the cannonball bedpost of the Colonial style oak bed, then flopped down across the top of the bedspread. Lying there his hands cupped behind his head, he tried to stop thinking about Grace… about the trip to his uncle's house tomorrow… about Jaron. He had no idea what sort of man Jaron had become, how many crimes he'd committed for Booth, for the syndicate. But he figured his old friend had been guilty of just about every offense on the books. What Jed couldn't figure out was what had made Jaron so desperate to escape Booth's hold that he'd risked everything for Grace's five million.
A soft rapping on his door abruptly ended his speculation. He started to get up, but didn't. Instead he said, "Yeah, come in."
The door eased open. Grace peeked inside. "Jed, may I speak to you?"
"You should be in bed trying to get some sleep." So much for putting off a confrontation, he thought.
"I can't sleep." She opened the door all the way, walked in and shut the door behind her. "We need to talk."
Why was it that just the sight of this woman made him soft in the head and hard everywhere else?
"Can't it wait?" he asked.
"Did you telephone Mr. MacNamara?"
"Yeah. And the answer is no. No way in hell."
She nodded. "I figured as much."
"If it was my decision to make, I'd tell you." Jed sat up and slid over to the edge of the bed. "But I work for Dundee 's and-"
"I understand."
Standing in the muted light from the one bedside lamp, she looked like an angel. A golden angel, all shimmering beauty. And he could tell that the fiery indignation with which she'd confronted him an hour ago downstairs in the kitchen had burned itself out. She seemed quite calm, even a bit subdued.
"You don't have to tell me anything," Grace said. "I think I've figured it out. You're working for Dundee 's, but you're cooperating with the FBI. They're interested in proving that Fortier and Lew Miller are in cahoots."
"Grace…"
She signaled him to say no more. "Don't worry, I'm not sharing my theory with anyone else. I promise."
"Look, Blondie, you should go to bed. It's been a rough night." Jed stood, but made no move to go to her. "If you've got a sleeping pill, take it. You're the boss over at Sheffield Media. You can take the morning off if you want to. Stay home tomorrow. Before I leave for Beaulac, Dom and Kate will come over here and stay with you. They'll act as your bodyguards while I'm gone."
Grace nodded; then suddenly an odd look appeared in her eyes and her mouth opened on a surprised gasp. "Booth Fortier lives in Beaulac? Didn't you tell me that you're originally from Beaulac? Did you know Fortier years ago when you lived in the same town?"