Books by Fern Michaels
Up Close and Personal
Fool Me Once
Picture Perfect
About Face
The Future Scrolls
Kentucky Sunrise
Kentucky Heat
Kentucky Rich
Plain Jane
Charming Lily
What You Wish For
The Guest List
Listen to Your Heart
Celebration
Yesterday
Finders Keepers
Annie’s Rainbow
Sara’s Song
Vegas Sunrise
Vegas Heat
Vegas Rich
Whitefire
Wish List
Dear Emily
The Sisterhood Novels
Under the Radar
Final Justice
Collateral Damage
Fast Track
Hokus Pokus
Hide and Seek
Free Fall
Lethal Justice
Sweet Revenge
The Jury
Vendetta
Payback
Weekend Warriors
Anthologies
Silver Bells
Comfort and Joy
Sugar and Spice
Let It Snow
A Gift of Joy
Five Golden Rings
Deck the Halls
Jingle All the Way
UNDER THE RADAR
FERN MICHAELS
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2009 by Fern Michaels
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 1-4201-1060-8
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Charles Martin slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to wake Myra. He looked around the dim room, trying to figure out what, if anything, had wakened him from his deep sleep. All was quiet in the huge room. There was no air-conditioning making humming noises on Big Pine Mountain because it simply wasn’t needed. He looked toward the open windows, where the sheer curtains moved with quiet gracefulness. Turning his head, he tried to decide if one of the dogs might have barked or if the birds were rustling in the big pines outside the window. Except for Myra’s soft intake and exhalation of breath, the silence was deafening.
Charles knew sleep was out of the question because he was wide-awake. He got up and made his way to the bathroom, where he showered, shaved, and got dressed. The red numbers on the digital clock sitting on the mantel said it was three in the morning, an ungodly hour to be waking up to start the day. Not that rising at that hour was entirely outside of his experience. When he was planning a mission for the girls, sleep was something he usually did without.
In the kitchen, he made coffee. Just as he was pressing the button to start the automatic drip, he realized something was wrong. He looked down at his trembling hands. His hands never trembled. Never. He jammed them into his pockets as his mind raced. Myra was sound asleep, which meant all was well with his dearly beloved. One of the dogs, Murphy or Grady, would have alerted him if something was amiss with the Sisters. The phone wasn’t ringing. So what could possibly be wrong? He listened to the silence around him as he tried to figure out if it was him or something else. Something was spooking him, and he didn’t like the feeling. He’d never had such an ominous feeling before. Even when he’d been a covert agent for Her Majesty, he’d had nerves of steel. He’d always been cool and collected, no matter what the situation, his mind never going off on tangents.
Charles almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the last cheerful plop coming from the coffeemaker. He poured a cup and carried it to the War Room, where he checked his incoming e-mail and faxes. There was nothing to be seen, both machines glaring at him like two angry dark eyes. What the hell is wrong? He turned and walked back out to the main part of the house and opened the front door. The velvety night was dark and quiet. He walked over to the bench under a tall pine and sat down. The pungent scent of pine was so strong, he felt light-headed. Sipping his coffee, he lit up one of the cigarettes he thought no one knew about. He puffed furiously, hoping the cigarette would calm his twanging nerve endings.
Lowering his head as he tried to grapple with what he was experiencing, Charles let his gaze drop to the watch on his wrist. He could read the numerals clearly in the eerie blue light of the halogen lamp in the center of the compound: 3:45. He raised his head to look around. He’d never felt as lonely as he felt just then, that very second, in the whole of his life. He wondered suddenly if he was going to die. He shivered. For some reason, he’d never given his own death a thought until then. He immediately discarded the image. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to grapple with his feelings and his morbid thoughts.
Desperate, Charles fired up a second cigarette. After the first two puffs on his previous cigarette, he’d let it turn to ash. He inhaled deeply and coughed. Terrible, ugly, nasty habit, but he could understand why people smoked. Suddenly, he felt calm. The hand holding the cigarette was rock steady. His head felt clear, his senses sharp. This is it, he told himself. Either I’m going to die, or something is going to happen, right now.
The special encrypted phone he was never without vibrated. In that single instant Charles knew he wasn’t