Beautiful Redemption (9 page)

Agent Sawyer’s knuckles tapped on the door, and he expectantly stared at me through the glass wall. I waved him away.

Maddox had been glad I had transferred to San Diego, and the S.A.C. had thought I lacked finesse—even less than Fuck Off Val or Agent Davies the Slut. I looked down at my crisp light-blue button-down blouse and knee-length skirt.

I have motherfucking finesse. Just because I speak my mind means I’m not tactful?

My whole face flushed red with anger. I thought the days of women in the Bureau being called breast-feds and split-tails were over. Most male agents making sexist remarks would be quickly shut down by other male agents, even when they weren’t aware of my or any other female’s presence.

Lack finesse?
I’m going to lack his finesse all over the fucking squad room.

I covered my mouth even though I hadn’t sworn out loud.
They might have a point.

The landline’s shrill ring bleated twice, and I held it to my ear. “Lindy.”

“It’s Maddox.”

I sat up tall even though he couldn’t see me.

“There’s one more reason you’re a good candidate, one I didn’t mention to the S.A.C.”

“I’m positively on the edge of my seat,” I said, monotone.

“We’re posing as a couple, and I…think you’re the only female agent who would be comfortable enough with me to play the part.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

The line was silent for a solid ten seconds.

“I’m kidding. Good to know it’s not solely because the S.A.C. thinks I have no class.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. The S.A.C. didn’t say that, and neither did I.”

“You kind of did.”

“That’s not what I meant. I would throat-punch someone if he ever said anything like that about you.”

Now, it was my side of the line that was quiet. “Th-thank you.” I didn’t know how else to respond.

“Be on the lookout for that email from Constance.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good day, Lindy.”

I put the phone on its base and returned my ankles to their previous position on my desk, pondering the trip we would take in seven weeks. I was going to be spending several nights alone with Maddox, posing as his girlfriend, and I wasn’t at all upset about it even though I wished I were.

I tried not to smile. I didn’t want to smile, so I frowned instead, and it was the biggest lie I’d told since telling Jackson—and myself—that I was happy with him in Chicago.

Val lightly knocked on the glass with one knuckle and then tapped her watch. I nodded, and she walked away.

I wasn’t sure how much Maddox wanted me to share. Keeping the secrets about our first night and my purpose in Squad Five was hard enough. Unfortunately for me, Val was my only friend in San Diego, and postulation happened to be her superpower.

M
Y FINGERS KNOTTED IN MY HAIR
in frustration as I struggled to focus on the words on the screen. I’d been staring at my computer for more than two hours, and my vision was beginning to blur.

The blinds on the exterior windows were closed, but the sunset had slipped through the slits and then burned out hours before. After studying Travis’s case file, I’d spent the rest of the evening looking for ways to get him out of prison time for the fire, but using him as an asset was not just the best idea. It was the only idea. Unluckily for Travis, his brother was so good at his job that the Bureau felt adding another Maddox would only be beneficial. So, he wasn’t only an asset. He would be recruited.

A knock sounded, and Agent Sawyer slipped a file into the metal holder screwed on the front of my door. The holder was there so that agents wouldn’t have to bother me with every approval request, but Sawyer opened the door just enough to poke his head into my office, a bright white Cheshire smile on his face.

“It’s late,” he said.

“I know,” I said, resting my chin on the heel of my hand. I didn’t take my eyes from the screen.

“It’s Friday.”

“I’m aware,” I said. “Have a good weekend.”

“I thought maybe you’d like to get dinner somewhere. You’ve got to be starving.”

Maddox stepped into my office, cool and pleasant to me, and then he glowered at Sawyer. “Agent Lindy and I have a meeting in two minutes.”

“A meeting?” Sawyer said, chuckling. Under Maddox’s intense stare, his smile faded. He smoothed down his tie and then cleared his throat. “Really?”

“Good night, Agent Sawyer,” Maddox said.

“Good night, sir,” he said before disappearing down the hall.

Maddox ambled to my desk and sat in one of the club chairs, casually leaning back with both of his elbows perched on the arms.

“We don’t have a meeting,” I said, my eyes on the monitor.

“No, we don’t,” Maddox said, sounding tired.

“You made me his boss. You’ve got to let him speak to me at some point.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

I leaned to the side to see his face, my face still squashed by my hand, and frowned at him, dubious.

“You look like hell,” Maddox said.

“You look worse,” I lied.

He looked like an Abercrombie model, including the stern yet impervious stare, and I happened to know that he looked like one under his suit and tie, too. I hid behind my computer again before he could catch my eyes lingering on those damn unforgettable lips.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“Let’s go pick up something. I’ll drive.”

I shook my head. “I still have a lot to do.”

“You have to eat.”

“No.”

“Goddamn, you’re stubborn.”

I looked around my monitor again for effect. “Agent Davies is saying I fucked my way to the top. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the agents to take me seriously when I walk in here and get a promotion on day one?”

“It was day two actually. And Agent Davies
did
fuck her way to the top—well, to her top. She won’t likely be promoted any further.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever given her a raise?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, Davies might have, but technically, she’s right about me. It’s gnawing at me. I’m putting in extra hours, so I can make myself believe that I earned the spot.”

“Grow up, Liis.”

“You first, Thomas.”

I thought I heard him breathe out the tiniest hint of a laugh, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I simply allowed myself a smug smile from behind the safety of the lit screen between us.

Car horns and sirens could be heard coming from the street below. Out there, the world continued, unaware that we worked late and lived lonely lives to make sure they could go to bed with one less mob boss, one less sex ring, and one less serial killer on the loose. The hunt-and-capture was what I worked for every day—or that was what my function used to be. Now, I was tasked with keeping Thomas’s brother out of prison. At least, that was what it felt like.

My smug smile vanished.

“Tell me the truth,” I said against my hand.

“Yes, I’m hungry,” Thomas droned.

“That’s not it. What is your objective? Taking Benny down or keeping Travis out of prison?”

“One is entangled with the other.”

“Pick one.”

“I practically raised him.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Thomas took a deep breath and exhaled, his shoulders sagging as if the answer were weighing down on him. “I’d trade my life to save his. I would definitely walk away from this assignment. I’ve walked away before.”

“From the job?”

“No, and no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Understood,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about her either.

“You
don’t
want me to talk about it? Everyone else in this office is dying to know.”

I glared at him. “You just said you didn’t. There is something I want to know though.”

“What?” he asked, wary.

“Who is in the pictures on your desk?”

“What makes you think it’s a
who
? Maybe they’re pictures of cats.”

All emotion left my face. “You don’t have cats.”

“But I like cats.”

I leaned back, and I hit my desk, frustrated. “You don’t like cats.”

“You don’t know me that well.”

I hid behind my monitor again. “I know that you either have a miracle lint brush, or you don’t have cats.”

“I could still
like
cats.”

I leaned over. “You’re killing me.”

The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. “Let’s go to dinner.”

“Not unless you tell me who is in those frames.”

Thomas frowned. “Why don’t you just look for yourself the next time you’re in there?”

“Maybe I will.”

“Good.”

We were quiet for several seconds, and then I finally spoke, “I’ll help you.”

“To dinner?”

“I’ll help you help Travis.”

He shifted in the chair. “I didn’t know you weren’t planning to.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t consider me a sure thing.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say yes,” he snapped back.

I slammed my laptop closed. “I didn’t say yes. I said I would watch for the email from Constance.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m going to have to watch you.”

A smug smile broke out across my face. “Yes, you are.”

My cell phone chirped, and Val’s name appeared on the screen. I picked up the phone and held it to my ear. “Hey, Val. Yes, just finishing up. Okay. See you in twenty.” I pressed the End button and laid my phone on the desk.

“That hurts,” Thomas said, checking his own phone.

“Deal with it,” I said, opening the lower drawer to retrieve my purse and keys.

His brow furrowed. “Is Marks going?”

“I don’t know,” I said, standing before pulling my purse strap over my shoulder.

Vacuums were being pushed back and forth somewhere down the hall. Only half the lights were on. Thomas and I were the only employees left in the wing besides the cleaning staff.

Thomas’s expression made me feel guilty. I tilted my head. “Do you want to go?”

“If Val will be there, it would be less awkward if Marks were going,” he said, standing.

“Agreed.” I thought about it for a moment. “Invite him.”

Thomas’s eyes sparked, and he lifted his cell phone, tapping out a quick message. Within seconds, it beeped back. He looked up at me. “Where?”

“A place downtown called Kansas City Barbeque.”

Thomas laughed once. “Is she giving you the official tourist tour?”

I smiled. “It’s the same bar from
Top Gun
. She said she didn’t do those things when she moved here, and she’s never gotten to it. Now, she has an excuse.”

Thomas tapped on his phone, a grin spreading quickly across his face. “KC Barbeque it is.”

I sat on the end stool, glancing around the room. The walls were covered in
Top Gun
memorabilia—posters, pictures, and signed headshots of the cast. To me, it didn’t look anything like the bar in the movie, except for the jukebox and the antique piano.

Val and Marks were deep in conversation about the pros and cons for the solicitation notice of the 9mm pistols versus our standard issue Smith & Wesson. Thomas was on the other side of the L-shaped bar, standing in the middle of a small herd of California girls any Beach Boy would be proud of. The women were all giggling as they drank and took turns at the dartboard, clapping and cheering every time Thomas hit a bull’s-eye.

Thomas didn’t seem to be overly flattered by the attention, but he was having a good time, glancing over at me every now and again with a relaxed smile.

He had taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his oxford, revealing several inches of his thick tanned forearms. His tie was loose, and his top button had been left undone. I willed away the jealousy threatening to bubble to the surface every time I looked over at his new fangirls, but I could still feel those arms around me, pulling me into different positions and watching as they flexed while he—

“Liis!” Val said, snapping her fingers. “You didn’t hear a flippin’ word I said, did you?”

“No,” I said before finishing my drink. “I’m going to head out.”

“What? No!” Val said, pouting. Her protruding bottom lip pulled back in as she smiled. “You don’t have a ride. You can’t leave.”

“I called a taxi.”