Broken Page 9
“Sure, you would be.” He pulled into a spot between two faded yellow lines and cut the engine.
“Wolfe,” she protested, waiting until he partially turned to face her. “It’s not the nineteen hundreds.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Dana, I’m the muscle for the Deep Ops Unit because I’m good at it. It’s my job to protect and defend and diffuse. You’re nuts if you think I wouldn’t protect my woman with everything I have, especially my life.”
His woman. She shook her head, even though her heart rate seemed to be perking up considerably, and not from irritation. “I think you’re behind the times here.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But it’s a dangerous world, and you and I know that better than most. In this world, we give ourselves to the people we care about, and with that comes responsibilities. I’m all for independence, equal pay, and all of that, but a man’s job is to protect women and children, and that reality transcends any time.” Kat took that moment to jump from the back seat and land on Wolfe’s shoulder. “Animals and the elderly should be protected, too,” Wolfe added, opening his door and somehow jumping out without dislodging the kitten.
“How does somebody argue with that?” she muttered as she exited the truck without waiting for him to open her door.
He shrugged. “Why would you argue? However, if you someday end up with a guy who doesn’t agree with that sentiment, you’ve ended up with the wrong guy.”
“Like you care who I end up with,” she said, stepping lightly over a puddle.
“Well, I’d hate to have to kill him for not protecting you.” Wolfe patted the kitten, slowing his stride to match Dana’s.
It was sometimes difficult to tell if Wolfe was joking or not. “Discussions like these throw me off kilter,” she said.
“Why?”
That was a good question. Maybe because part of her wanted to be his, even though she didn’t like the terminology. Or a part of her wanted to know why he was so sure his next mission would be his last and he wouldn’t be around afterward. Or maybe because if his mission was dangerous, she wanted to help and make it sure that it wasn’t his last one. “I want to help you take Rock down without dying yourself.”
His jaw tightened, making the scar stand out. “No.”
Her hackles rose. There was no way he was working alone on this, and the idea that he wouldn’t let her in kind of hurt. “I’m sure you have Brigid trying to track him with bank or military records.”
“No, I don’t.” He opened the door and waited for her to walk inside the dusty hallway.
She stumbled and quickly righted herself. “Why not?” Brigid was the best.
“He can’t be found,” Wolfe said, pushing the elevator button. “There’s no trace of him for Bridge to follow. The game isn’t played that way.”
A chill slithered down her spine. “Game?”
“Oh, yeah. Rock is all about the game.” The elevator door opened, and Wolfe gestured her inside. “He knows I’m looking for him, and now that he’s engaged, he’ll come to me.”
She leaned against the worn paneled siding, her mind spinning. “Wait a minute. You’ve sent out some crazy guy challenge?”
“Yep. I have a little time, but I’m gonna need to start making a trail that leads away from the team.” He pushed the button, and the elevator rocked twice before descending, creaking loudly with a protest that hurt her ears.
She needed to get through to him. “You’re crazy.”
“Wrong. I’m bait.”
Chapter Twelve
The smell of dust combined with the scents of pepperoni and whiskey made the bullpen area of the office smell like home. Wolfe kicked back and flipped through the manila file folders of the cases assigned to him as Dana worked away in Brigid’s computer room, conducting basic research.
The ability to manipulate people wasn’t one of his talents, unlike going through doors or dodging bullets. However, he’d do what he had to do, and by the end of the workday, he’d have Dana agreeing to stay at his cottage and take care of Kat, even if he had to go hunting Rock. Yeah, he was using the kitten as a pawn, but the house, located at the end of a cul-de-sac with a very armed and capable Malcolm West as a neighbor, was safe.
He’d learned early on that getting Dana to think something was her idea was the best way to gain her cooperation. Stubborn woman.
Force had shut the door to his office as he worked, and Roscoe snored quietly at Wolfe’s feet, no doubt sporting a doggie hangover from the booze. Malcolm worked through files silently at his desk, occasionally sipping the latte Wolfe had brought for him. He looked up. “I made inquiries about the heroin pipeline around six months ago, but it’s going to take time.”
“Thanks,” Wolfe said. That kind of inquiry always took time, and Gary Rockcliff had probably covered his tracks well. Wolfe settled back, relaxing as much as he could. Office work wasn’t his thing, but this was kind of nice. Peaceful, even, with Nari typing a mile a minute in her office, Kat sleeping on her desk, and the door open. The shrink must have some serious work to catch up on, since she’d barely scolded Roscoe for his foraging through her office the previous night.
The typing stopped. “Guys?” she called out. “I’m printing out the reports from the last op. Would you look them over and make sure I added everything I need and didn’t add anything that might hurt us with our HDD handlers? They’re not happy with us, and I need a couple extra sets of eyes on this.”
“Sure,” Mal said, not looking up.
“Yep,” Wolfe said. Unlike the other members of the unit, he didn’t mind being the outcasts of the Homeland Defense Department who had handlers to try and keep them in line. So far, Angus Force still had enough juice with the HDD to keep the team alive, but if he didn’t climb out of the bottle soon, that would end. Wolfe needed to find Rock before that happened. “Why do you have to send reports to the HDD, anyway?”
The printer clunked to life in the corner. “It’s the only way we keep our funding,” she called, starting to type once again.
“What funding?” Mal asked before Wolfe could.
Wolfe grinned and took another deep gulp of his latte. “Do you have anything interesting in your pile of busywork?”
Mal pushed a folder toward Wolfe. “Not really. Securities fraud, computer hacking, and possible political extortion. You?”
Wolfe shook his head. “Not even remotely. A couple of money laundering possibilities and a blond bank robber who has somehow kept her face from being recorded.”
“Blond, female bank robber?” Mal’s eyebrows rose.
Wolfe nodded. “Yep. Hits only safety deposit boxes, and it turns out a lot of them are owned by some pretty shady criminals.”
“Let her rob them, then.” Mal opened one of his files and then rubbed his left eye. “This is just busywork because the HDD is pissed. Without Brigid here this week, we don’t even have a hacker for the computer cases.”
The crank of the elevator reverberated through the room.
“Is Pippa coming by?” Wolfe asked, sitting up.
“Nope.” Malcolm straightened and drew out his desk drawer.
Wolfe did the same, resting his hand on his Glock.
The door opened, and a man stepped out. Wolfe categorized him instantly. About six-foot-three, graceful movements, intelligent brown eyes behind modern rimmed glasses. A six-o’clock shadow covered his jaw and went perfectly with his mussed dark blond hair. The satchel slung over his shoulder was half open and revealed several textbooks. “Hello.” The accent was British.
Wolfe kept his hand on the gun. The newcomer might look like a college professor, but he’d unobtrusively scouted the entire room, noted the lack of exits, and settled his stance in a way that looked casual but was far from it. “Can we help you?” Yeah, his tone wasn’t all that helpful.
Force’s door opened. “Professor. I wondered when you’d finally arrive.”
A slow smile tugged at the professor’s full lips as he focused be
yond the hub of desks. “Angus, my friend. You look like shite.”
“You look like you’re undercover at a college,” Force returned, his eyes bloodshot but his smile genuine. “Chasing coeds these days, are you?”
“Hardly. Just teaching them,” the professor returned easily.
Malcolm cleared his throat.
Force nodded. “Dr. Jethro Hanson, please meet my agents, Malcolm West and Clarence Wolfe.”
Malcolm nodded, but Wolfe decided to remain still. If this guy was a professor, Wolfe was a perfume salesperson. “Doctor in what?” Wolfe asked. They could actually use a medical doctor around if he was an M.D.
Hanson unslung his bag and set it against the wall. “Philosophy with emphases in ethics, moral theory, decision, game, and rational choice theories.”
“As well as doctorates in psychology, criminology, and last I heard, string theory,” Force drawled.
“One does hate to brag.” Hanson straightened back up. “You still tilting at windmills, Force?”
Angus sighed. “I wish.”
The glimmer in Hanson’s eyes faded. “I can’t go down that road with you again, mate. It leads nowhere.” The accent rolled out smoothly, but his voice roughened.
“Lassiter is alive,” Force said, leaning against his doorjamb.
“Ah.” Wolfe cut Malcolm a look. So the guy was there to help Force chase the elusive, possibly dead, maybe alive serial killer who, as far as they knew, hadn’t killed anybody since Force had shot him dead. Well, mostly dead. Maybe all the way dead. Wolfe lifted his latte and downed the rest of the contents, keeping everyone in sight.
“You shot and killed Lassiter.” Hanson’s face softened. “You have no proof that he’s alive or you would’ve contacted me with more than a text.”
Roscoe snorted awake, rolled to the side, and bounded halfheartedly toward Hanson.
Hanson crouched down and petted the animal with both hands on the sides of his furry face, looking into his eyes. “Ah, chap. You’ve been into the bottle again, eh? Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”
Roscoe panted and wagged his tail.
Wolfe shut his drawer in unison with Malcolm. No need to shoot the guy if Roscoe liked him.
Heels clip-clopped, and Nari emerged from her office. A wide smile curved her lips, and she moved toward the elevator. “Jethro. How nice to see you.”
Jethro stood and hugged Nari, his hold visibly gentle. “What in the world are you doing in this dive?”
Nari chuckled and leaned back, patting Roscoe on the way. “You know I like adventure.”
“You’ve met?” Force asked, his calm voice giving away everything.
Wolfe bit back a grin. Oh, he wasn’t wading into this one, but it was fun to watch Force hold himself together.
“We consulted on a case,” Nari said, turning again as Dana walked out of the computer room. “Ah, good. Dana, it’s time for our session.”
Dana’s steps hesitated and then her shoulders straightened. “Oh, all right.”
Hanson cocked his head. “Hi. I’m Jethro.”
“Hi.” Her smile was way too cute. “Dana.”
Wolfe set his cup down. The new guy had to go. Definitely.
* * *
Dana settled herself in the one guest chair in the minuscule office, facing Nari across a short desk. A wide picture of an outdoor scene, a pretty lake, took up the entire wall behind the psychologist. “How did you end up with the closet for an office?”
Nari rolled her eyes. “Angus took the only office; the other two spaces are larger case rooms.” She tapped one red nail against her lips. “We do have two interrogation rooms to the left of the elevators, but we’ve needed both a couple of times, so oh well.”
“Kat likes it in here.” Dana nodded at the kitten sprawled across the keyboard, snoring softly.
Nari slid her chair to the side and away from the computer. “How has your first day been?”
“Fine. This morning, I conducted some research and compiled information on a bank robber. I’ll hit the case on securities fraud next. I’m nowhere near as good as Brigid on the computers, but I do have some decent contacts.” Dana crossed her legs and sat back in the chair.
“You’re not here to be a hacker,” Nari said, smiling. Today the shrink had worn a light pink blouse, dark slacks, and very pretty gray and black sandals, with her black hair tied up in a messy bun. “How are you doing working with Clarence?”
“So far, so good,” Dana said. “I’ve been in the computer room, and he’s been out working with Malcolm, so I can’t really say we’ve collaborated much.” Not that Wolfe was much of a collaborator.
“Tell me about this case you and Wolfe are working that involves leather pants.” Nari leaned forward, her brown eyes sparkling. “That was quite a sight.”
“I know,” Dana said, her voice hushed. “Could you believe it?”
Nari laughed. “No. What’s the case about?”
“I can’t tell you.” Dana didn’t have enough about Candy’s story to share, and she wasn’t going to betray Wolfe’s confidence, either. “Sorry.”
“It’s part of the gig,” Nari said.
“My story isn’t a case for the unit.” Dana reached down and tied her shoelace. The previous month, they’d been attacked and Nari had fought like a warrior before Dana was taken. “I’ve been wondering. Where did you learn to fight?”
“My mom,” Nari said. “She owns a jewelry store in L.A., but she has always trained. It’s something we did together as I was growing up.”
That was so sweet. Dana chuckled. “My mom taught me to fish and play the piano.”
“Cool.” Nari neatly stacked purple file folders on her desk. “I’m worried about Wolfe and think I could assist with whatever case you two are working.”
Dana straightened. “Why are you worried?”
Nari patted the files. “I’m afraid I can’t get into that.”
“Then we’re at a stalemate.” Dana liked the shrink, but work was work. “When are you and Angus going to get together, anyway?”
Nari blushed. “That’s crazy.”
There was a lot of that going on these days, it seemed. “Why are you in this office, Nari?” Dana asked.
“What do you mean?”
Right. “You know what I mean. This is the HDD’s Island of Misfit Toys. You seem to have your act together.” The journalist in Dana couldn’t let the question go. “Oh, I understand you report back to the agency about the group, and the unit knows that, but why you?”
“I wanted a challenge.”
That wasn’t the full truth. Dana’s investigative instincts awakened. “There’s more, I can tell.” She smiled. “I love a good story.”
“As do I,” Nari said softly.
Dana perked up. She and Nari had hit it off right away and were quickly becoming friends. “Is that a challenge?”
Nari’s dark eyes gleamed. “Oh, you bet. I’ll have the info long before you will.”
“I don’t see how.” If she didn’t talk, and if Wolfe didn’t talk, there was no way the shrink would figure out their case. “I, however, do have connections in HDD.”
Nari reached out and gently stroked Kat. “Okay. The bet is for lunch at Gerviani’s in D.C.”
Dana blew out air. “Wow. You’ve got it.” She looked at the shrink’s expensive blouse. “You must do all right with the HDD.”
Nari chuckled. “Government salary? No. But I did invest well a few years back in a beverage company that partnered with a cannabis company to create drinks for the states where cannabis is legal.”
Dana’s mouth dropped open. “No kidding?”
“Yep. Has been quite lucrative.” Nari scratched behind Kat’s ears, and his purring got louder. “The company does a great job, and someday will probably be bought out. My stock should provide a good retirement.”
“Good for you.” The thrill of the challenge went through Dana. “Maybe we should bet for more than lunch.”
&nb
sp; Nari’s smile widened. “Lunch is enough.” She sobered. “Seriously, though. Be careful with Wolfe. He’s lost a lot.”
Dana cleared her throat. “Is that advice from a shrink or a friend?”
“It has to be from a friend,” Nari said. “As a shrink, I can’t talk about him. As a friend, I can tell you that you’d need to be all in or all out with him. After everything he’s lost, he won’t know any other way.”
In other words, don’t play with the hot ex-soldier. Dana nodded. “I read him that way, too. I mean, not right away, but after I got to know him.” Her first impression was of a fun-loving, flirty hottie who just wanted a good time. His mask was good, but that wasn’t Wolfe. He had depths that still surprised her. Although, even though they’d taken the step and had gone full on in bed, they still weren’t together.
“Fine.” Nari’s eyes twinkled again. “If you go undercover at a sex party, you might want to remind yourself that you’re just friends.”
Friends with benefits, but Nari didn’t know that. Dana relaxed again. “Isn’t that the truth?” She shivered. The next party was the following night. She could do this. She had to—for Candy.
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re going to have to leave the trench coat in the car,” Wolfe said calmly as he drove an older BMW expertly through traffic after their second day working together. They’d already solved the securities fraud case with three arrests.
“I know.” Dana sighed, really not wanting to remove the protective coat. Why couldn’t subs wear cardigans, for goodness sake? She fought another yawn. She’d slept at Wolfe’s the previous night, but neither of them had made a move, and she’d been too tired to worry about why.
She glanced sideways at her partner for the night.
Wolfe wore those devastating leather pants and a long-sleeve black shirt that covered the bandage on his arm and somehow made his chest look even broader than usual. After going through two toll roads and exiting the interstate, Wolfe drove by a river and then into a gated community with mature trees, perfectly manicured lawns, and expensive streetlights that showed it all off. “Tell me about Trentington,” Dana murmured. The guy was obviously loaded if he lived here.