Dawn was breaking as we headed in the direction of the red-and-blue lights cutting through the thinning fog.
“I never found answers about Jason’s death,” I mumbled, my body beginning to feel the effects of the night. “I hate that I failed.”
“This assignment was never about that, Fallyn.”
“It also wasn’t about falling for Duke. Yet here I am. I’m heartbroken, angry, and confused and feel like I didn’t do my job to the best of my ability.”
She came to an abrupt stop. “You can be hard on yourself. I get that. But you didn’t compromise your morals. If you ask me, I think you helped Duke see that he needed to change. Or maybe you were the catalyst to force him to. The Duke I’d been chasing during my years with the ATF in Boston would’ve never worked with the cops. He would’ve never put his gun down. He would’ve never walked out of that building alive.”
“That wasn’t because of me but rather his sister.”
She laughed. “Partly, I agree. But did you know that there are pictures posted on the Hart of Hope shelter’s website and a few of them are of Duke and you? One in particular is of you and him on the dance floor. Now, it’s clear to me from that photo that he’s in love with you. I would bet my job that you played a role in making him see the light.”
“It doesn’t matter. As you said, ‘love is about sacrifice,’ and a federal agent and a lawbreaker are not a recipe for a long-term relationship.”
Besides, I was a thousand percent sure that Duke would never want to see me again.
31
FALLYN
Later that day, after I’d debriefed my superiors on my assignment and, in particular, my actions at the junkyard, I chomped on my fingernails as I entered the hospital where Duke was being treated.
Special Agent in Charge Howard wasn’t thrilled that I hadn’t waited for backup and had given me a slap on the hand. I had yet to see my dad, but I had talked to him by phone. He was relieved I was alive, still the daughter he knew, and that my mission was over.
I had mixed feelings. Part of me was glad I didn’t have to keep lying to Duke and his family. The longer I stayed undercover, the easier it would’ve been to become Joy Whitlock. The easier it would’ve been to fall into Duke’s world. I would like to think I was resilient, and while I knew right from wrong and understood the consequences, my heart was a different matter.
The other part of me was going to miss Duke terribly. The way he looked at me as if I was the only one who made him happy. The way he made me feel as we enjoyed the best lovemaking I’d ever experienced. I kept replaying his words and confession at the gala as he held me in his arms.
A doctor nodded at me as I walked by him on my way to the information desk.
I didn’t know how Duke was doing. No one had contacted me yet. After Gwen and I had talked to Detective Hughes and tried to round up Rosario and Mateo’s men, I’d returned to the field office.
The body count from earlier that morning totaled two. One of the dead men was Mateo, and the other was Lou Romano. He’d been the one in the crane operating the car crusher. Denim had been questioned by Detective Hughes about Lou’s death, but unless the DA wanted to prosecute, Denim was off the hook. He’d fought Lou to save Grace and me, and during the struggle, Lou had fallen out of the crane and onto a sharp object.
Rosario and Gustavo were behind bars for the time being. Rosario’s soldiers and Mateo’s gang members had fled when Detective Hughes and his unit converged on the junkyard.
The lady at the information desk was typing on her computer and had yet to acknowledge me.
A couple went into the gift shop. Two nurses strolled in behind them. For seven at night, the lobby was rather quiet. Visiting hours were until nine p.m.
A woman was on the phone in the hall, near a bank of elevators. It took me a moment to realize the head of blond curls belonged to Maggie Hart. I suspected that she might be covering the story for her news station.
I abandoned the information counter and beelined over to Maggie.
She pocketed her phone, her expression dour as she gave me the once-over. “Federal agent.” Her green gaze flitted to the badge on my belt and my sidearm then up to my face. “I knew there was something about you that I couldn’t put my finger on.”
“Could that be why you weren’t as accepting of me as Jade and Grace or the Hart brothers?”
She was an investigative reporter—sharp, intelligent, probably suspicious by nature, and not exactly the type to roll out the red carpet unless she knew you inside and out.
“Funny,” she said. “I just got off the phone with a source of mine. I did some digging on the Williams family for nothing more than to satisfy my curiosity. Well, that and the name was familiar. I did a story on your brother, Jason, right after his death.”
I reared back.
“That’s right. It wasn’t a big one because no one within the FBI would give out details.” Her voice was even and businesslike. “But an FBI agent found overdosed on drugs could’ve been a meaty news segment. At the time I was pulling the facts together, I asked if Jason was undercover. Of course, no one would tell me. But he was, right?”
“That’s correct.” I had no reason to lie, and the circumstances of his death weren’t exactly classified either.
