“What? You give up just like that?”
“We all know how this will go down, so why fight it, right?” He gave her a snarky grin.
His reaction made her mad, but then she remembered Sean’s warning and swallowed down her irritation. She signed the log and smiled at the agent of record. “I’d like a copy of the log. I’m assuming you have a copier in the command truck.”
“We do.”
“I’ll stop back for it after getting a look at the container.” She ducked under the tape and waited for the others to sign in and join her, allowing them to start across the lot as a complete team. To be honest, she was counting on the shock-and-awe value of the group to help her keep her guard up and not give in to any of the JTTF members.
A man stepped out of the container’s side door. The ICE agent. At least she thought his tactical attire and wide shoulders said law enforcement and not forensics.
His steps halted, and he stood staring, his face deep in shadows. She couldn’t make out his features, yet she felt like she knew him. It was something in his stance. Eager to get a better look at his face, she picked up speed. He stepped out from the shadows and locked gazes with her.
“No. No. Can’t be.” Her legs went weak, and she stumbled to a stop.
“Hey,” Mack said, grabbing her elbow. “What is it?”
“Him.” She pointed at Agent Evan Bowers in the flesh. “It’s Evan Bowers. He killed Olin.”
She didn’t care if she said it loud enough for him to hear. She had nothing to hide.
He kept coming, a frown on his rugged face.
She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. He had the same brown hair with sun-kissed blond streaks as when she’d known him years ago. The same chiseled jaw. Same piercing blue eyes, muscular build, and confident stride. And he still had the long scar on the side of his face, which he’d sustainedwhen he tackled her to the ground to protect her after Olin had been shot.
She swallowed hard and tried to figure out what to say. What to do. How to act. He shouldn’t be here. He worked out of the Seattle office, not Tacoma.
“Kiley,” he said, his voice low and husky—just like she remembered.
Despite her anger at him, his tone settled over her like a warm blanket. “You’re the other agent who found the container.”
He stopped in front of her, planting his feet on the pavement. “Not other.Theagent.”
Yeah, just as she’d thought. Cartwright exaggerated his role.
“And now you’re here to take over,” Evan said and shifted to offer his hand to Mack. “ICE Agent Evan Bowers.”
Mack shook hands with Evan. “Deputy U.S. Marshal, Mack Jordan.”
Sean reached out next, and then Cam, both introducing themselves. Somehow she felt their greeting was a betrayal when deep down she knew they were simply extending professional courtesy.
Evan faced her again. “I know I’m the last person on earth you would want to see, but if you’ll hear me out for a minute, I think I can help you.”
She didn’t want to listen. She wanted to run screaming. Or maybe punch him.
Remember, you’re lead here and you need to be impartial.
She curled her fingers, letting the nails bite into her palms. “Go ahead.”
He took a wide-legged stance so common for him, making him seem larger and in charge. “You’re not familiar with the area or with the terrorist network on the West Coast. I’ve been working it for years and know the ins and outs. I know bombs inside and out too. And I’m the only one who located this container. No one else can tell you about that. You need me.”
She planted her hands on her waist and widened her stance to try to match his. “I don’t need—”
“A minute, Kiley,” Mack said.
She jerked her gaze from Evan to see Mack’s sharp focus pinned on her. He stepped out of earshot, and she had no choice but to join him. “What?”
He peered down at her. “Remember our conversation. Think before telling him to shove off. He has a point. If it was any other agent with his credentials standing there, what would you say?”
