Dana pursed her lips. “How in the heck did you know about my story?”
“My boss is the one who tipped you off initially.” Wolfe turned fully in his seat to look at her. “Then, just to make sure, I read your computer files.Friend.” He smiled, and the sight was nowhere near reassuring.
Raider sighed. “We don’t have time for this.”
Chapter Five
Brigid awoke early in her miniscule apartment, her heart thundering. Rain pattered outside, and she stilled, listening for any sound of an intruder. Nothing. No shuffles, or moved air, or the too quiet sense of somebody holding their breath. Muscle by muscle, she forced her body to relax in the uncomfortably soft bed that had come with the apartment. Then she pushed off the bedspread, staying as silent as possible, and padded outside of the tiny bedroom to the living area.
The round dining table was still in front of the door, where she shoved it every night, her muscles straining. Biting her lip, she moved over to the sole window to see the old screwdriver placed in the sill and shoved slightly beneath the sliding glass. Nobody could get in.
Oh, they might try, but she would hear them.
She was just as imprisoned now as if she were still in that cell. Or in one of the dark holes they’d threatened to throw her in if she didn’t cooperate.
Sweat broke out down her back. Her breathing quickened, and she tried to halt the oncoming panic attack, but it hit anyway. She could call her friend Pippa, who also had attacks and would understand. But she had to be careful with Pippa, who was now living with Malcolm, one of the Deep Ops agents.
She couldn’t tell the truth to anybody. She sank to the floor and pressed her forehead to her knees, letting the fear take her for a moment. Until it didn’t want her any longer.
Her phone buzzed, and she let out a muffled scream. Damn it. Scrambling for the counter, she tugged the phone down where she could continue to sit on the floor. “What?” she answered.
“Agent Banaghan. Where’s your report on your unscheduled trip to Boston?” Agent Tom Rutherford asked, his tone authoritative and somehow threatening.
She gulped down air and tried to calm her voice. “I don’t have a report. We went, there was a fight, and we returned home. I don’t even know what the case is about, yet.” She could probably get away with that lie for a day or so. No longer.
Rutherford sighed. The jerk was probably at the office dressed in a hugely expensive suit with his perfect blond hair swept back. What a jackass. “Do I have to remind you—”
“No. Stop reminding me,” she whispered. He held the cards and she did not. She got it. “I’ll get a report to you today, although I don’t have much to say.”
“Good.” He clicked off.
She set the phone down and knocked her head against the cupboard. Life sucked.
Once she could breathe again, she moved like an old woman to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Raider would soon be there to pick her up, and he’d see the sleepless night on her face. She’d worried about her father all night.
After quickly getting ready, she waited for Raider, who seemed to be in his own head for the morning. The drive to work was blissfully silent, though she’d admired his strong hands on the steering wheel for much too long. When she walked into the dingy HDD offices, she was pathetically grateful for the sugar-laden lattes already waiting.
She took a latte off the battered first desk, the one that Wolfe had claimed. The room was vacant, though. “I don’t see why you always have to drive,” she said, taking a big drink, now ready to engage in dialogue.
Raider eyed the remaining drink. “It’s my truck.”
Yeah, but something told her he’d want to drive even if it was her vehicle. “I think you’re a control freak.”
“Okay.” He’d dressed down today in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, and his body looked harder than ever. “I can live with that.”
Her gray T-shirt illustrated a joke about string theory with a puppy all wrapped up in string.
Wolfe strode out of the second case room, with Kat perched on his shoulder. “They’re almost ready. Nari was up all night adding your records to Force’s and Dana’s, and they have a good slide show ready to go.” He tilted his head toward the remaining latte, his dark eyes even darker than usual. “That’s yours, Raider.”
“Thanks.” Raider took the drink and swirled it around, watching the whipped cream. “Appreciate it.” He barely hid his wince.
A side door opened, and Malcolm West and the very petite Nari Zhang strode out of Nari’s office. Malcolm was their field specialist, and Nari their shrink.
“Morning,” Nari said, her black hair in a ponytail and her pretty brown eyes studying them. For casual Saturday, she’d dressed in cream-colored slacks and a pretty floral blouse with silver jewelry.
Brigid tugged on her T-shirt. She always felt frumpy next to the fashionable psychiatrist. Even the woman’s ankle boots were an off-cream with cool green accents, which gave her a couple extra inches in height. She still looked dainty next to Malcolm.
“Morning,” Brigid said, looking at the agent. Malcolm was a former cop, an undercover specialist, and a decent guy. He had dark hair, sharp eyes, and was as tall as Raider. He’d recently solved a case and fallen in love with the woman he was supposed to investigate. “How’s Pippa doing?” Brigid had enjoyed getting to know the quiet woman while they’d painted the offices the previous week, and had barely kept herself from calling Pippa for support after the panic attack earlier.
