Though wet and cold,Poulsbo, Washington, had heavy lunchtime traffic. The storefronts glowed with cheer while the spat of rain that wanted to be snow but wasn’t quite cold enough came down in a gentle wash. With only seven more shopping days until Christmas, people hustled to find the appropriate gifts for family and friends.
Jane lifted the collar of her jacket to protect her neck, doing her best to suppress a shiver as the wind sought refuge in the hollow of her throat.
She felt naked without her service weapon, now gone for a solid six days since her suspension.
Last night, she’d arrived at her uncle’s ranch, a giant house that could comfortably accommodate a dozen psychotic mercenaries. It felt empty without anyone in it, though a trustworthy crew of housecleaners her uncle had used for years kept it spotless.
Hal and Joe hadn’t been by yet. The lack of a mess or spent ammo on the weapons range out back said as much.
She’d chosen the bedroom she normally used when home—herotherhome, she mentally corrected. But she hadn’t donemore than unpack and fall asleep, tired from stressing about the mess of her current investigation.
The one bright spot in her day had been her friend’s agreement to meet her for lunch. And gossip.
Jane smiled as she spotted Special Agent Grace Russo, an experienced senior agent out of the Poulsbo RA. The short, dark-haired woman had been working there for the past ten years. A married mother of two, she had to be one of the most grounded people Jane had ever worked with.
Jane had learned a lot from Grace, and she’d always appreciated the senior agent’s willingness to show her the ropes. They’d solved a few key criminal cases during Jane’s time at Poulsbo, which had led Jane to favor the criminal side of her work more than the cases involving national security.
“Well, look who finally escaped the office.” She waited while the older woman dragged her into a bear hug, squeezing until her bones ached. “Ooof.Missed you, Grace.”
Grace backed off, grinning, her straight, white teeth nearly glowing in a face lined by age and humor. The laugh lines showed her happiness but couldn’t hide the sharp intelligence gleaming from hazel eyes. “I missed you too, you troublemaker. From what I hear, some things never change.”
With skin a shade darker than Jane’s perpetual tan, Grace appeared to have a Hispanic or mediterranean background. She spoke English, Spanish, and French and had worked in the New York and San Antonio field offices before moving to the Pacific Northwest.
She had a lot of experience and a willingness to help, both traits Jane was counting on.
Grace looked her over. “You’re looking a little lean, some stress around the mouth and there in the eyes. But all things considered, I get it.”
Jane frowned, not pleased about letting her emotions show. “I don’t look stressed.”
“You do now.” Grace chuckled.
Jane rolled her eyes. “How about we grab something to eat and get out of this wet cold?”
“Sold.”
They hustled to J J’s Fishhouse, a popular eatery downtown. The gloom outside only enhanced the warm, bright atmosphere and comfort inside. Wooden tables and chairs filled the interior of the overlarge room and booths lined the walls.
After being led to a booth, they sat and considered their menus. The server dropped off their waters, took their orders, and left them alone to study each other. Though Jane had been back to visit, her stays had been brief, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to catch up with her friend.
Grace looked the same as always, intelligent, determined, and amused, as if smiling at secrets only she knew. She sipped from her water glass. “Not a whole lot on my end. Just hard at work with the same people you remember. James is still lead, though he keeps hinting he wants me to take over so he can retire.”
“Well? Will you?”
“I’m still thinking about it. I’m fifty-two, Jane. I don’t know that I want all the hassle James constantly deals with. He’s twice divorced and no kids, so he’s only got to worry about the work. I’m dealing with work plus a temperamental chef and two teenagers who think they know everything.”
“I’ve met your kids. I don’t know that they’re wrong about knowing everything.”
Grace grinned. “No comment on the temperamental chef?”
“Your husband, your mess.”
Grace burst into laughter. “Nice one. Okay, Cannon. Lay it on me. What do you need?”
Jane blinked. “Need? Can’t I just come to catch up with a friend?”
Grace said nothing, waiting.
Jane sighed. “I need help.”
