How did I get from a basic undercover case to being locked up in a pseudo safehouse with a woman I met when I wasn’t Adam Morrison? Not to mention getting her pregnant.
My computer pings, thank God, giving me something to do other than go around in circles in my mind.
The file I pull up takes me a minute to read, but once I’m done, I’m more confused than ever.
We know that Lorentz and Page are the big hitters in this case. I thought we were trying to get proof they’re involved so that we can bring them in, but according to this? They’re just the tip of the iceberg of heavy hitters involved.
What could get worse than a tech genius and a billionaire being involved in stealing priceless artifacts?
A four-star general potentially being involved.
Woodcroft made an inquiry, about some of the artifacts we have, to an expert at the MET and was met with an official letter from the Department of Defense.
That means there’s more to the story here. More to the entire plot. Oscar was just a pawn—a very low one at that.
Shit.
I pull up all the information I have on the case—all my notes, as well as the team’s. I read over everything, trying to connect the dots, but nothing is obvious.
What the hell is going on here?
I peek at the clock on the bottom right of my computer, realizing it’s almost four in the morning, so calling Woodcroft isn’t an option.
“Adam?” Claire’s hesitant voice calls from the bedroom.
I rush into her room to see her huddling under the blankets, looking around in fear.
“Hey, I’m here.” I shush her and kneel by her side.
“I’m sorry. I-I thought you left,” she whispers.
“Never. Did you hear something?” I ask, hoping it was just something small that spooked her.
“No. Nightmare.”
My eyes close as my head tips back. Of course she’s been having nightmares. I’m an idiot.
“You want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head, eyes screwed shut tight.
“It might help,” I encourage her.
How long has she been shoving all of this down? Has she ever talked about how Charlie’s death has affected her? Has she processed any of the changes on her life?
“No,” she croaks. “Can you just hold me for a minute?”
“Absolutely.” I pop up onto my feet and walk around to the other side of the bed.
I don’t’ bother getting undressed. I don’t get under the covers. Instead, my arm goes around the woman I can’t stop thinking about, just above her small bump, who is shaking like a leaf. My hold tightens until she starts taking slow, deep breaths and finally falls back asleep.
I jackknife up when I hear a clang out in the living area. My hand moves to my firearm on the nightstand before I register the action. Gun drawn, I quickly yet quietly walk into the main space. What I see slows my pounding heart.
“Hi— Oh God! Sorry!” Claire says, throwing her hands up in surrender.
I immediately drop my gun and tuck it into my belt holster.
“Sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” I suck in a deep breath before walking over to her.
