He chuckled. “I’ve already gone. I’m down south on a case. It’s an undercover assignment so I can’t always check in to let you know I’m fine.”
“Is it dangerous?”
He rolled his eyes, grateful his mother couldn’t see him. She’d give him hell for being disrespectful. “No more dangerous than anything else I do. This assignment is sweet. I’m staying in a fancy resort and checking out the nightlife.”
“And you’re getting paid for this. I should get a job with the FBI. I can hang out by the pool and go clubbing as well as the next person.”
She was kidding of course, but he simply laughed. She worried about everything he did. It was part of being a mom. Having almost no communication with her when he’d been over in Afghanistan a few years ago hadn’t helped. Back before he joined the Bureau. Now he tried to call her at least once a week to assure her everything was okay.
“I’ll call when I can but don’t call me. I don’t have my regular phone and I may not always be in a position to answer if it rings. Do you understand?”
“Of course I do, Christopher.” Ooh, she was using his full name and sounding snippy. His gut clenched knowing he’d hurt her feelings. He hated doing that.
“I’m sorry. I know you do. I’ll try and call when I get a chance.”
“I appreciate that. Make sure you’re careful and remember we love you. I’ll let your father know you called.”
Not that his father would care. Chris had barely said a full sentence to the man in five years. After what Dad had done to Mom, he was lucky he’d gotten even that much. His whole life he’d been taughtWomen were to be treated with respect.Over and over his father had made sure he followed that creed. The man had hammered that into him from a young age, then he’d gone and fooled around on Mom. The thought of it still rankled and made his blood boil. Dad had done too good a job of instilling respect in him. Too bad he hadn’t followed it himself. The betrayal still stung and Chris wondered how Mom had forgiven the man and moved on. His jaw grew tense at the thought.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Mom. I love you.”
She hung up and he moved to the living room balcony overlooking the pool, opening his laptop to check his e-mails. He’d spoken with his supervisor, Chet Doolittle, this morning explaining his plan to use Meg to get actual names and shipment dates if possible. As suspected, the man had reservations but Chris had assured him he’d take full responsibility for her. He wasn’t too concerned though; he’d done his homework where Margaret Kathleen O’Hara was concerned.
She’d grown up in a small town in Pennsylvania, had done well in school and had been putting herself through college. Until she’d gone off with the bad boy, Eddie. Without a last name though, he hadn’t been able to find any information on the guy. It was probably just as well since he’d be tempted to snap his neck for what he’d done to Meg. The poor girl had naïvely trusted him and he’d blown it, big time, leaving her paying his tab.
Chris had sifted through her backpack earlier this morning. Not much there. Flip flops, a few pair of shorts and shirts, a pair of well-worn jeans with holes starting in several places and some undergarments. Aside from that and a few cheap toiletries there wasn’t anything else. No cell phone or other electronic devices of any kind and no other personal effects. No sign of a license or identification either.
In her case the lack of identification had worked in her favor. She’d managed to get away with using a fake name for over a year. And she had kept her family completely in the dark about what had happened to her. He’d hate doing that to his mom but he understood why Meg had.
Her family was frantic about her disappearance, calling the FBI field office in Philly every few months. He’d spoken with the agent who had originally taken the report but asked him to keep things quiet until they were able to close this case. It couldn’t be jeopardized because someone in her family decided to come down to Miami to see her. The Bureau couldn’t afford that. He hated to wait but he’d make it a point to call them himself as soon as things were more stable.
He pulled up the file he’d started on Moreno then changed screens to the information on Meg. Poor girl didn’t belong here. She was a good person and hadn’t been in any trouble with the law. One form reported she’d be turning twenty-six in about a month. Eighteen months she’d wasted here in this place paying off a debt that wasn’t hers.
A noise grabbed his attention and he looked into the living area to see Meg’s back disappearing into the bedroom. She must have grabbed her backpack so she could get dressed. She’d most likely be hungry when she came out. He closed his laptop, depositing it on the coffee table then started putting together a little plate for her. When she came out a few minutes later, wearing the frayed jeans and a pink t-shirt, he nodded at the table indicating she should sit.
“Good morning.” He smiled then glanced at his watch and revised, “Well, maybe it’s good afternoon. Thought you might be hungry.”
Her eyes lit up as she settled herself at the table. “Thank you, yes, I am.”
He hid a chuckle as she attacked the fruit on the plate. “Would you like some coffee? I have a pot made. I also have juice or could boil some water for tea.”
She finished chewing the piece of cantaloupe she’d been devouring and said, “Juice would be great. Thanks. I didn’t mean to sleep so late but the bed was amazingly comfortable. I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get me out of here now.”
He poured juice into a glass and sat opposite her. “Glad you enjoyed it. Not everyone sleeps well in a new bed. Obviously it didn’t affect you.”
She looked up, sheepish, taking a big bite of the cinnamon muffin in her hand. “I’m so tired after work I could probably sleep on the side of the road.”
“I wouldn’t suggest trying that around here. You’re more than welcome to keep using the bed.”
Grabbing for a juicy, red strawberry, she rolled her eyes. When was the last time she’d eaten? He’d have to make sure to get some good food in here for her. She needed to be full strength. Hopefully she liked home cooking as room service hadn’t been part of the deal with the hotel.
He was sure she was a strong one considering what she’d been through the last year or so. She’d have to be to continue day after day on her feet then go home to that shithole of a room. Her determination in keeping her family safe was admirable.
“So, what are the plans for today?” she asked as she shoved the rest of the muffin into her mouth.
He faked a pensive look. “Well, I was thinking I’d hang out by the pool and work on my tan.”
He laughed at her exasperated glare. “It’s all part of the undercover assignment,sweetie. You can’t go running around sticking your nose in people’s business. You have toeaseyourself in, slowly, so they don’t suspect anything.”
