The next day . . .
Emmett stood in his office staring back at the man who’d made an unannounced visit to Echo Team’s headquarters a few minutes before. Tall. Well-dressed. Strong jaw covered in a mostly dark, trimmed beard.
The powerful man had been around since R.I.S.C.’s conception. From what Emmett knew of him, he was hardnosed but fair. Right now, however, the guy looked pissed.
Not that Emmett could blame him.
“I hope you have an explanation, Mr. Shaw.” Jason Ryker shoved his hands into the pockets of his neatly pressed suit pants. “And it had better be good, because your team’s already down one member. I’d hate to think McQueen made a mistake in choosing you, too.”
The aforementionedtoowas in reference to their former teammate, Jimmy Baxter. After the prick’s majorscrew up a few months back nearly cost their former handler her life, McQueen fired Baxter on the spot. Lucky for them, they hadn’t seen or heard a peep from the guy since.
“There was no mistake,” Emmett assured the team’s current Homeland Security handler regarding his employment. “My team and I are working around the clock, doing everything we can to find whoever sent the shooter.”
“Are you?” One of Ryker’s dark brows arched high, his strong features giving away the other man’s doubt, along with his disbelieving tone.
The well-deserved ass-chewing shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Because of them, one of Homeland’s most secured safe houses had been burned, and their client had almost been killed.
It had been days since the most recent attempt on Janie’s life, and they were still no closer to finding the person who’d ordered the hit. Hence Ryker’s impromptu visit.
“Yes, sir. I’m sure.” Emmett gave his head a nod. “Savage has been working around the clock to I.D. the shooter, and hopefully his employer. But the guy’s a ghost, so it hasn’t been easy. We should have a more concrete lead very soon.”
The sooner the better, there, Blake.
“You’d better pray that you do.” Ryker unbuttoned his suit jacket and, with a sigh, sat down in one of the chairs facing Emmett’s desk. With an ankle crossed over one knee, the man’s dress shoes reflected the room’s recessed lights. “Walk me through everything from the beginning. And don’t leave a single detail out.”
Emmett kept his expression schooled, praying theguilt he was feeling didn’t show. It didn’t stem from having mind-blowing sex with Janie the night before. He also felt no regrets over their second round in the shower that morning.
He felt guilty because there were most definitely a few details he planned to leave out. Namely those pertaining to his time spent in the arms of his client.
“Janie Reynolds, our client, met Amy Weaver by accident the day she went missing. The two literally bumped into one another as Janie was leaving the Washington Post. They exchanged a few friendly words in which Janie picked up on Amy’s fear. She gave the young intern her card, and Amy texted her later that night to make plans to meet. But when Janie got there, Amy was nowhere to be found, and her apartment appeared to have been professionally cleaned.”
“The news said the intern’s cause of death was a suicide.”
“My expert says otherwise.”
Ryker blinked. “You have an expert?”
“Dr. Scarlett O’Neill,” Emmett shared the woman’s name. “She’s friends with Talia, and also the country’s top independent forensics consultant. Talia reached out to her on our behalf the other day, and she was able to get Janie and me access to the chief M.E.’s office.”
“I’m familiar with Dr. O’Neill’s work,” Ryker revealed. “She’s well-respected within the DC ranks.”
Score one for the good guys.
“She said she works closely with Chief Medical Examiner Nguyen, which was how she knew he kept paper files on the city’s high-profile cases.”
Ryker grew quiet as he considered this a moment. “You said she got you and your client access.” The man’s intelligent dark eyes held his. “Am I right to assume Dr. Nguyen wasn’t present at the time you and Miss Reynolds came into possession of these files?”
“He was not,” Emmett answered truthfully. “Dr. O’Neill thought it best not to involve him at that time, and given he’s the one that signed off on the BS suicide story, I’d say she made the right call.”
“By having you break into the Chief M.E.’s office?”
“Technically, Dr. O’Neill did the breaking in.” Emmett risked a small shrug.
A muscle at the side of Ryker’s jaw twitched, and he didn’t say anything more for several very tense seconds. Emmett kept his composure, unsure of which direction the conversation was headed.
“The news said the Weaver girl committed suicide.” The other man gave a slight shift of position in his seat.
Reaching down to his right, Emmett opened a drawer and pulled out the file containing the real cause. “That’s the story they want the public to believe.” He offered the man the folder. “Evidence of the real cause of death is in here.”
