He shouldn’t be here again. Joey’s protections were up, the damage contained, at least for now. Butcontainedwasn’t the same as safe. And Norah Winslow had never been the kind of woman who stayed behind the caution tape.
He’d been parked there nearly an hour, watching through the windshield as the twenty-sixth floor lights flickered off one by one. The day staff had gone home. The grinders stayed late—the ones who didn’t know when to quit. Norah fell squarely into that category.
He told himself he was just making sure she left the building. That was all. Verification, not vigilance. Except he hadn’t stopped tracking the front entrance since she walked in that morning.
A faint vibration from the dash broke the silence.President Coulter departs for two-week European trade summit.He scanned the headline without thinking. It was routine political fluff coverage, something unavoidable in this town. Still, something in him logged it away in case it became relevant. Old habits.
The phone buzzed again, this time with a secure tone that let him know it was someone from Black Tower.
“Talk to me,” Marshall said as he answered.
“At ease,” Jackson drawled on the other end. “I’m here. Where are you?”
Marshall winced. Was it Thursday? They were supposed to watch the Patriots game tonight. “I need a rain check.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Jackson said. “Miranda was grumbling that your definition of downtime is surveillance.”
“Miranda should mind her business.”
“It’s just because she cares. Don’t you dare give her attitude for that.” Jackson paused. “Where are you, anyway?”
Marshall didn’t answer right away. The heater hummed softly, the city’s glow reflecting off his windshield. “Parked outside Summit.”
A low whistle came through the line. “So it’s true. Miranda said you went undercover as an investor the other morning and was kind enough to show me a picture. What was with the tie?”
“Miranda picked it,” Marshall said flatly.
Jackson laughed. “You looked like you were about to offer someone a mutual fund.”
“Cute.”
“Only if you ignore the part where you’re sitting outside the building after hours. You gonna tell me why?”
Marshall’s eyes tracked a reflection in the glass doors across the street. “Following a lead.”
“Name of the lead wouldn’t happen to rhyme withflora?”
Marshall’s jaw tightened. “Drop it.”
“I knew it.” Jackson’s tone softened. “You could’ve told me, you know. Joey’s overtime makes a lot more sense now.”
Marshall rubbed the bridge of his nose. Truth was, he didn’t trust himself to talk about Norah—not when just hearing her name knocked something loose in his chest. “It’s not personal,” he insisted. “It’s just a precaution.”
“Uh-huh,” Jackson said. “And I’m Tom Brady.”
He ignored the jab. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Well, Ihadplans with my big brother tonight, but the jerk bailed on me.”
Marshall exhaled, a small admission sliding out. “I really am sorry. I lost track of time.”
Jackson snorted. “So what’s the plan, Marsh? Sit out there all night until she leaves?”
Marshall’s gaze stayed on the third window from the left on the twenty-sixth floor. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.”
“You do realize we’re supposed to observe people of interest, not babysit them.”
He didn’t look away. “Same thing tonight.”
