“It’s cold as a witch’s tit outside, ain’t it?” Garth, the muscled guard, asked from behind a tall counter, eyeing him with curiosity.
Scott had never understood that saying, but he chuckled obligingly. “Got that right.” He’d been freezing his ass off in his car waiting for Valerie to leave work. Usually she was done by nine o’clock. His thermos of hot coffee had run dry hours ago. He should have waited inside, but he didn’t want Garth wondering what he was up to. “I’m just going to run up for a minute. I forgot to grab my notes for an offsite meeting I have in a couple hours. Couldn’t sleep,” he added, since it was a little odd for him to show up at oh three hundred.
He just needed to make sure Valerie didn’t realize he was on her tail. And he needed to thaw out.
The temps weren’t dead-of-winter cold, but after a mild October, the sudden drop in mercury was a shock.
The big man nodded and returned his attention to the monitors on his desk.
After a quick run to the team’s bullpen, Scott climbed into the silver Tahoe he’d parked in the back lot and drove toward Valerie’s apartment in Fairfax. She lived in an older cluster of three-story buildings in a busy commercial district, and he could easily keep an eye on her unit from the parking lot or from a garden area in the center of the complex.
Today was the first time she’d said more than two words to him since the day he’d been introduced around the office by Hollowell as part of his cover. Usually, she just mumbled “hello” if they passed in the halls or crossed paths in the break room. He probably made her nervous.
No surprise. Plenty of people turned skittish around a killer.
But today had been an eye-opener. First seeing her on fire, looking hot, and conning her way past the guard—which put a chink in his confidence that she was innocent—and then tonight she’dtalked. Not only that, but her eyes had sparkled with excitement, and after her initial fright, she’d given him the most amazing smile.
A smile that could launch wars. It spoke of a light and energy that he hadn’t realized she possessed. He was now at war with himself. Watching her had been no biggie when he didn’t reallyseeher. Now it felt like voyeurism.
Pushing that unwelcome thought aside, he climbed into the rear of the SUV, lowered the seat, and slipped into the cargo space. There were advantages to being “average” in size. He didn’t fit the All-Star quarterback mold like the other guys at Steele, but his shorter stature and narrower shoulders had served him well as a scout sniper.
Illegal tint concealed him from view even in daylight, which would break in another hour or so. From his position he could see Valerie’s windows, but she was a smart woman who kept her blinds closed at night.
The light in her living room blinked out, and her bedroom light came on. He could envision her one-bedroom apartment with its tiny kitchen and inexpensive but comfortable furniture. Not much color. Even the pictures on the walls were black-and-white shots of mountains in plain black frames. And not very good photos at that.
He’d never entered her apartment, but he’d viewed as much as possible through binos from the parking lot. Following someone wasn’t illegal; B&E most definitely was.
Her bedroom window went dark, and his imagination ran away with him. Did she sleep naked? Would she be shy in bed or bold?
Christ. He’d liked this assignment better when he thought she was boring.
Swearing under his breath, he adjusted his position and tried to picture Valerie in oversized sweats.
It didn’t help.
Three hours later, his muscles stiff, Scott woke to an alarm he’d hidden near her door to alert him that she was on the move. Already at the bottom of the stairs, she set a bag of aluminum cans next to the dumpster before sliding into her dirty-as-sin Prius.
The first time he’d seen her leave cans on the ground, he’d thought she was too lazy to throw them in the bin. But when he’d come back to peek through her windows while she was at work, an old man had been digging through the trash with a crutch, the back of his beat-up station wagon packed with bags full of aluminum. Hers sat on top.
So she was nice to the homeless. Didn’t make her innocent.
Starting to feel the pull of fatigue, he tailed Valerie back to Aggressor. Luckily, all the morning traffic was heading the opposite direction. The only slowdown was at 28 heading north toward Dulles. A string of defense contractors and tech companies lined the highway all the way to the airport and beyond, with Aggressor right in the center.
Scott made sure she took the turnoff to work, and then drove past the exit to the next off-ramp. He circled around and parked in the back of the building with the delivery vans and company fleet cars.
If she noticed his Jeep still parked up front, she’d think he’d never left.
The bright sun belied the twenty-degree temps, and the wind brought the air into the single digits. Head down, he hustled into the building.
A new guard sat on duty at the counter. He nodded as Scott passed—comparing Scott’s face to the one that popped up on the monitor when he scanned his ID—but didn’t say anything.
Scott spent the next hour in the break room, pounding coffee and pretending to read a procedures manual while waiting for contact from Hollowell.
The text message finally came, and two minutes later he stood in Hollowell’s corner office with a view of the distant mountains.
“I just met with Valerie and Jay,” Hollowell said. “I finally have the evidence I need.”
Scott’s chest tightened. “What happened?”
