“Right.” Sam dipped his chin and then watched the agents head toward their car.
Toran was quick to hit the button that sent the two halves of the gate swinging shut. But when they began to close, Sam heard Hannah call, “Wait! I’m leaving too!”
He turned to see her beating feet across the pavement, backpack slung over her shoulder and bouncing right along with the ends of her hair. When she skidded to a stop next to him, her face flushed prettily, he frowned. “You’re taking off already?”
“I need to get home and get the scoop on Cesar’s romantic dinner. Besides, my work here is done, right?”
Right. So why did her leaving feel so wrong?
“I guess so.” He shrugged, trying to figure out why he wanted her to stay so badly.
Maybe so they could reminisce? Maybe because she reminded him of his youth or a simpler time? Maybe because—and he hadn’t realized it until that very moment—he’dmissedher?
“Alrighty then.” She used her elbow to nudge his arm. “Keep it one hundred.”
He snorted. “Which means?”
“It means keep it real.” She rolled her eyes.
She turned to walk away, but he stopped her with, “Hey, Hurricane Hannah?” She swung around and he noticed how the streetlight sparkled in her dark eyes, making them look mysterious. And uncomfortably grown-up. “Thank you. You really came in clutch today. Well…” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “And three months ago, too, I guess. I owe you for both.” He remembered their morning phone conversation and felt a little jolt of happiness. “A steak dinner, right? When you wanna cash in on that?”
“Eh.” She lifted a shoulder. “How about I text you the next time I’m feeling carnivorous?”
His little jolt of happiness fizzled. “Deal.”
She canted her head, her gaze steady on his face. “It was good seeing you again, Sam.”
“It was good seeing you too, Hannah. I’m proud of you. You’ve really made something of yourself, kid.”
Something moved behind her eyes. But it was gone before he could determine what it was. “Take care of yourself, okay, Sam?” Her voice was low. “It’s a dangerous world out there.”
He felt his brow wrinkle. Why did that sound like a goodbye? Like, goodbyeforever.
Before he could question her, Agent Floyd called from the sedan’s open window, “Hey Miss Blue? Can we give you a ride?”
“Absolutely!” Her voice brightened and she skipped off toward the waiting vehicle. “You just saved me a thirty-dollar Uber bill!”
Floyd hopped from the backseat to hold the door wide. He placed a proprietary hand on the small of her back as he helped her inside.
When a muscle in Sam’s jaw twitched at seeing the agent’s big mitt sprawled across her narrow waist, he chalked it up to being low on potassium and decided he needed to go inside and eat a banana.
30
56 Crimson Valley Ave.
Pavel gritted his teeth against the blistering pain in his ankle when his rental car bounced from the soft earth of the Carlson’s backyard onto the narrow road that led past their property into a night-darkened pine forest.
For the first time in his career, he had not succeeded in eliminating his target. It grated. More than grated, it was embarrassing. Which was why he hated the thought of what he had to do next.
But needs must…
Blowing out a steadying breath, and sweating with the effort of controlling his pain, he carefully pulled his cellular phone from his jeans. After turning it back on, he realized he’d missed ten calls from Bishop.
The dread he felt at telling the man he’d failed was compounded by the certainty that something bad had happened on Bishop’s end. No way the man would’ve tried phoning that many times unless things had gone sideways.
Hitting auto-dial, he wasn’t surprised when Bishop answered immediately. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the last twenty minutes.”
“Had my hands full.” Pavel gritted because his jaw was clenched down tight in an effort not to scream when he hit a particularly bad bump. His side hurt. But the bullet had only grazed him. Therealagony radiated from his ankle, throbbing horribly with every beat of his heart and gnawing with teeth like a rabid dog anytime he bumped against it.
