Megan blinked and opened her eyes, feeling vaguely human. She was lying on the bed. A quick shift told her the gunshot wound she’d received had been bandaged, and she was now wearing the jogging pants from her duffel. Same shirt she’d been wearing last night. So at least that was something.
Megan shifted to her elbows and looked around the room. Adrian’s hotel room. He sat at the desk, working on his laptop. Back to her. The sheets on the other bed were rumpled. Something about the sight of that affected her more than she’d have liked. As though his being here made her feel…safe.
What was that about?
Megan took a minute to study him while he wasn’t aware of it. Silver hair on his temples. Tall but slender, with long arms and legs. He probably had to have his shirts custom made. She wondered if he was muscled under that T-shirt and sweater he wore.
The guy was like every other FBI agent she’d known. Trained with. Worked with. They were all essentially cut from the same cloth. Follow the rules. Ask more questions than people wanted to answer. Discover the truth. Justice would be found.
Looking at him made her wonder how she’d managed to stray so far from that without realizing. She knew she’d lost her way. The fact she hadn’t gone to church in two years made that plain to see. But when had she drifted from those basic tenets that had governed her life for so long? Not in one step. It seemed more like she’d moved, step-by-step from her core values.
Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity. The center of every FBI agent.
Now that they were so clearly right in front of her, embodied in all that was Adrian Walker, it made her realize just how off course she was.
“Coffee?”
Megan started. “What?”
He turned. He’d known she was awake but hadn’t said anything until now. “Coffee?” He motioned to the half-empty pot on the counter with the pen he’d been using to write on a notepad. “We’ve got two hours until we have to be at the office in DC, so you have time to eat and get ready.”
“DC?”
He nodded, his attention back on his computer now. “My boss said the sweep of Zimmerman’s computer came in. We need to be briefed.”
We?
She struggled to process what he’d just said.
“Okay,” she paused. “Wait a second.” This was going way too fast. “Did I pass out in the bathroom?”
“Yep.”
“Did you break in and dress my wound, then change my pants?”
He shifted the chair around. Grabbed his coffee cup, took a sip. Shrugged. “You passed out. From seeing the blood, I guess? Or maybe you got light-headed?”
She wasn’t going to tell him what the reason was. It was bad enough he’d been here for the experience.
“And you’re not going to acknowledge the fact you saw my underwear?” Thankfully she’d been wearing one of her newer, nicer pairs. She didn’t want to think about him seeing a ratty old pair that were supremely comfortable, but should probably be thrown away.
He shrugged. “I was married. Been divorced three years now. And for the record, that’s no more skin than I’d see if you were at the beach in a bathing suit.” He shot her a look. “Plus I was a little more concerned about the bloody wound than getting a look at your tan lines.”
Megan pressed her lips together. Was she supposed to say thank you? That wasn’t going to happen, even if he had helped her.
She recalled rousing in the middle of it, being on the bathroom floor. His frowning face, and the gloves on, tearing medical tape with his teeth. Had she felt then like she was in danger? No way. The crux of it was that whole FBI personality. She knew guys like him. And yes, there were some jerks in the bureau. They were regular guys, and some took things beyond the lines drawn by honor. Not Adrian, though. She’d known that about him.
“Feel better this morning?”
She had to concede that. “Yes, I do.”
He got up and poured her a cup of coffee. She accepted it, still tucked under the covers. After she took a sip, and a few more of those sleep cobwebs dissipated, she said, “You were married?”
He nodded, settling back in the chair he’d pulled so it faced her. “Six years married. Three since then.”
Was he going to tell her what happened? She’d never even come close to being engaged. What was the point? Her life hadn’t been conducive to a heavy relationship. And the man she’d had feelings for…
Well, he was gone now, wasn’t he? Too late to realize she’d loved him.
What was the point in doing that again when it had ended in a way she would never—not for one second of the rest of her life—forget holding him in her arms and watching him bleed out all over that cold floor?
Her head spun.
The mug swayed in her arm and some spilled on the comforter.
“Whoa.” He got up and started over toward her.
Megan set the mug on the bedside table between the two queen beds. “I’m okay.” She cleared her throat. She needed to think about something else. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking. Why did you get a divorce?”
He stood at the end of the bed. “I worked a lot. She didn’t like the fact I was home late most nights, sometimes not home at all. She wanted someone who left work at work and came home clean of it. But that isn’t how this job works.”
Megan shook her head. “No. It isn’t.” Her experience with the bureau wasn’t the same as his, but she knew that at least.
“She had an affair with a guy she worked with. Changed the locks.” His expression seemed to freeze, like he didn’t want to feel anything. “I came home after a particularly bad case. We’d taken down a ring of guys dealing in women—some of them teens and preteens. My stuff was all boxed up in front of the garage door, and the coworker had already moved in.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
She could see pain and disappointment in his eyes. Even though it was three years ago, it was clearly still a wound he carried with him. Maybe he’d really loved her.
Megan got up and went to her duffel. She found some clothes that would work for an FBI office meeting and headed for the bathroom with the outfit bundled under her arm. She turned back at the door, coffee cup in her other hand. No sense in it getting cold when she could put it on the bathroom counter. “It okay if I use the bathroom?”
Adrian nodded. “I’ll change out here.” All business. Any traces of sadness or grief over the failure of his marriage was gone now.
Megan said, “Thanks.”
She knew from the look he gave her that they were on the same page. That she was thanking him for more than just letting her take a turn with the bathroom.
“Oh,” she called out before she shut the door, “Who is your boss?” Maybe she knew him. She took a sip of coffee and set her clothes on the counter.
“Hank Cromwell.”
Megan swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “Okay.” The word was strangled.
She shut the door to the bathroom and took a breath. Hank? The agent who had been one of her father’s best friends?
This meeting was going to be so much fun.
Not.
Adrian flashed his badge to the security guards in the lobby of the DC FBI office. Then he turned to Megan, and waited.
She pulled the badge from her back pocket and handed it over.
The guard logged her name and other details and then passed it back. Access badges were given. So much procedure. But it kept them safe.
They made their way through security after a few minutes. Adrian had his weapon on him, but Megan had stowed hers in the car. It definitely made it simpler not to have to go through the rigmarole of getting her things looked at.
When he caught up to her, he asked her about it.
She shrugged. “I don’t have a service weapon. Not anymore. And I’m not going to bring a Double Down gun into the FBI office.”
“I’m not complaining.” She didn’t have a service weapon? She had a badge.
What kind of agent was she?
He led her to the elevator and punched the button for the floor where his office was. She glanced over. “Didn’t you arrest Alexis during that whole thing, when Rachel was kidnapped?”
Adrian winced. “In my defense, it made sense to think she was involved. And when it became clear she wasn’t, we backed off. But we still kept her safe.” In fact, he’d been there when she had nearly been killed by Lincoln Sadler, and they’d had to take him down.
Though, Bradley—Alexis’s husband now—still looked at Adrian like the agent was going to pull out cuffs at any second. Which, of course, would result in Bradley tackling him to protect the people he loved.
Adrian respected him, and all of the team at Double Down, more than they would ever know. More than he would admit, anyway.
The elevator doors opened. He said, “It’s this way.”
“I know.” She strode out. “I remember.”
Adrian followed her, trying not to look like her entourage. “Are you going to explain that to me at some point?”
The look she sent him over her shoulder made him tense. Whatever the story was, it was huge. It had affected her career. Her life. Made her into this independent—and not really in a good way—woman who only wanted to work alone. Someone who skirted the line of legality, and got the result her way.
He nodded to a few of his coworkers and got a couple of pointed looks in return. Yes, he was back. No, he hadn’t found Zimmerman. They probably needed a full meeting, so he could get updated and let them know what he’d learned.
Megan stopped at his boss’s office. Adrian rapped his knuckles on the door twice. Adrian reached for the handle, expecting the usual, “Come in.” But it never came.
Instead, the door opened. “That you, Meggie?”
Her face softened, and her mouth curled up into a genuine smile. “Hank.”
Adrian stared while his hard-nosed boss hugged Megan. Like she was his long-lost daughter. Or granddaughter, given both their ages.
“It’s so good to see you.”
Hank leaned back. “Sure about that?”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m telling the truth.”
“You always were a good liar. Got you out of trouble plenty of times.” He stepped back.
She shook her head, but Adrian caught the look on her face when Hank turned away to his desk. “Got me in trouble plenty of times, too.”
“Still does, by the sound of it.” Hank waved to the chairs. “Sit. And shut the door would you, Agent Walker?”
“Yes sir.” Adrian sat in the chair by Megan.
Hank’s attention was all on her. A soft, fatherly gaze Adrian had never seen before. He could hardly believe he was seeing it now. And then his boss said, “It really is good to see you, Meg.”
She pressed her lips together and smiled. “It’s good to be seen.”
Adrian figured that was the truth, despite her apparent ability to lie. Nothing about this woman made sense. She was an FBI agent. She didn’t have a service weapon. In the weeks he’d known her, it was clear she worked for Double Down. Not the FBI. He wanted to ask what was going on, but was that too demanding? They seemed to be having some kind of moment. Adrian didn’t want to intrude, or ruin it.
For the first time since he’d met her, only weeks ago, Megan actually looked relaxed. Not completely at ease. He didn’t even know if that was possible. Still, she seemed comfortable. He didn’t think it was the FBI office, so it had to be this man. His boss. She knew him, that much was clear. Had they worked together before?
His email hadn’t been the first time he’d mentioned her in communications with his boss. It was, however, the first time he’d discovered her connection to the FBI. That was the catalyst for his boss asking them both to come in.
So was Hank going to explain?
Maybe he was going to tell Megan she should work with Adrian. That would help speed this along. Having her on his team and not out in front doing her own thing—with him feeling like he had to watch her back every step of the way.
“So.” His boss started everything that way. Speech. Explanation. Didn’t matter. Then he said, “We’ve gone over every inch of Zimmerman’s computer. Work and home. All his online accounts, social media. Emails. Found some instant messages you’re going to want to look through, Walker.”
Adrian accepted the file his boss handed him across the desk.
“Speaks to his state of mind. And his sympathies toward a group of domestic extremists.”
“Islamic?”
Hank shook his head. “Home grown, backwoods guys. Guns, Bibles, and freedom.” He paused, his opinion of that clear. “They hate the government, no matter which side it’s leaning toward right now.”
Adrian didn’t view the federal government as any kind of enemy of the American people. Some felt that way. And while he knew there were many flaws in the system, along with selfish people making important decisions for their own gain, he’d chosen to be part of it. To work every day to try and make it better. To not let men like Zimmerman take their anger out on innocent people.
Adrian said, “Any indication of where he might strike with the sonic weapon?”
“There’s been chatter about the Republican convention in Denver next week. And a symposium of defense contractors in a couple of days, the location of which was supposed to be secret.” Hank mashed his lips together, making his mustache twitch. “I’ll keep you posted on both of those.”
Megan said, “We’ll know if he tries to fly the weapon into a city, right?”
Hank nodded. “It’d fit in a duffel, or large suitcase. But he’ll know every avenue we’re watching. He’s been trained the same way we’ve been trained.” Hank paused, his attention on Megan. “That’s why we need someone who thinks outside of the FBI box.”
“Me?” It was less of a question and more of a realization.
Hank nodded. “But there’s another reason I think you’re going to want to be all-in on this with us.”
Adrian looked up from the papers he’d been studying over.
Megan’s body had stilled. “What reason?”
Hank swallowed, looking unsure for the first time ever. “We found a link. Between Daniel Zimmerman and El Cuervo.”
The Crow? Adrian’s knowledge of Spanish wasn’t much to speak of, but he thought he had that right. El Cuervo was reportedly a hitman for a Venezuelan drug cartel, an up-and-coming player, and he was high on the FBI’s most wanted list. What did he have to do with—
Megan shoved her chair back and headed for the door, breathing hard.
“Sit down, Meggie.”