Dark of Night (25 page)

“When did the affair take place?” he asked her.

“It wasn't an
affair.
It was—”

“Before, during, or after your years at the Agency?”

She shut her mouth. Blinked. “During,” she said. “It was close to the end.”

“Huh,” Decker said. Coincidental? He would bet that it wasn't. “Where were you when the photos were taken? Was it at your place or his?”

“A hotel,” she answered. “We took a weekend and went to New York City. Do you honestly think that Peter had something to do with …” She shook her head in disbelief. Her obvious disappointment and hurt almost made him feel sorry for her.

Almost. Because he still wasn't convinced this wasn't part of an act. “I think you had a relationship with an attractive man at the end of your tenure with the Agency, and now these photos have turned up. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if the next thing they hit you with is ‘proof that this Peter
was
one of your patients.”

“But he wasn't,” she said.

“They're the Agency,” he countered. “Whatever documents they provide will at the very least be realistic enough to create a controversy. Count on it.”

Jo looked from Decker to Tracy and back.

“So what are you doing?” she asked. “Are you actually trying to frighten me into … What? Being their bitch?”

She'd surprised him with her slang, but his laughter didn't last longer than a short bark. “I'm suggesting,” he told her, “that it's possible you're not being honest with us about the nature of the material they're holding over you.”

She nodded, clearly upset. “I should have gone to the Troubleshoot-ers office, to Tom Paoletti.”

“Why didn't you?” Decker asked.

She met his eyes, and there it was again—that kiss. But she just shook her head. “Because I'm a fool.” She laughed her disgust at herself. “And because, yes, they told me to contact
you.”

“I believe her,” Tracy said, but her words were punctuated by the poke of a fingernail into his shoulder. His ex-fiancée, Emily, had well-cared-for nails, too, and Jesus, he'd loved it when she'd dug in as he'd rode her, hard, as he'd sent her spinning into a freefall so intense that she often left scratches down his back and across his ass. She'd always been embarrassed and aghast in the aftermath, but he'd gotten off on it.

“Why are they so interested in you?” the doctor asked him. “What are they after?”

Decker just looked at her.

“Okay,” she said. “You're right. It would be foolish to tell me anything. You've never trusted me. I know that. But I'm going to be contacted again. If I were you, I'd like to know what these people want and who they are.” She paused. “Unless you already know.”

“Why don't we just go to the Agency,” Tracy chimed in. “Why don't we just show up and walk in the door and—”

“We need to be certain before we do that,” Decker said, cutting her off. “Whether or not they're actually from the Agency, they've got access to Agency information. We go there, they'll know we've been there and …” He shook his head. “I'm not ready for that.”

“Then, why don't we put Dr. Heissman somewhere safe,” Tracy suggested. “Then
we
can go to her house, and wait for this man to come back, only, surprise, it's not her, it's me—and you, ready to kick his butt. We tie him up and fingerprint him, and presto, we have his identity.”

We? “I'm sorry,” Decker said, “but aren't you a
receptionist?”

She actually rolled her eyes as she otherwise ignored him. “When is he contacting you again?” she asked Jo.

“He wasn't specific,” she answered.

“No.” Decker looked emphatically into the rearview mirror—which was the easiest way to meet Tracy's eyes. “You're not qualified, so no.”

“You'd be there.” She was actually arguing with him.

“But you won't be,” he told her. “You're going to your friend's place, remember?”

“I can change my plans.”

“No. And stop. You said you wanted to help? Start now.”

Tracy closed her mouth at that, but he could see her protest in her eyes. It was killing her not to continue to argue.

Deck looked at Dr. Heissman. “I have several things to do tonight that take priority. If you're concerned for your safety, I'll help you access a secure location and—”

She was already shaking her head. “I'll be fine at home. Particularly if you give me something to tell him if—when—he comes back. It doesn't even have to be true. In fact, I'm happy to pass along disinformation if it'll get you to trust me.”

Never gonna happen, hon. Aloud, he said, “Maybe we can get
them
to trust you—if you give them information that they probably already know, but that you couldn't have known without talking to me. Like, the fact that Tess and I are both currently under investigation by the FBI.”

“What?” The doctor was genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“A former colleague of Nash's”—Decker told her the story that Tess, Nash and Jules Cassidy had come up with—“had a key to a sealed safe-deposit box, with instructions to open it only in the event of Nash's death. After he died, the seal was cracked and … Apparently Nash broke the black ops division's number one rule: Leave behind no evidence. He left a paper trail and some other souvenirs that tie him to several ‘incidents,’ some of them on an international scale. An investigation's under way to determine how much—if anything—Tess and I knew about any of this.”

She shook her head. “That's ridiculous. You don't expect anyone to believe—”

“Believe it or not,” he threw her own challenge-filled words back at her, “it's true. Your bag man will already know about it. I guarantee it. It's possible the Agency is working with the Bureau, but it's also possible that your man is collecting as much information as possible in a CYA move— because someone inside knows that the Agency is going to get looked at by the FBI next. You can let him know that Nash kept both Tess and me in
the dark about all of this. And that, as far as we're concerned, we'd just as soon bury the truth with him. So if there's anything they can do on their side to quash the investigation, tell them to have at it.” He'd driven in a big circle, and now pulled into the lot of a pizzeria and put the truck into park. “We're a block and a half from your office building. It'd be best if you walked back.”

She didn't move. “You honestly expect anyone to believe that you want to
bury
the
truth?
I'm sorry, didn't you once tell me that if you found out I was still working for the Agency, you would
kill
me?” She looked at Tracy.
“Hunt me down and kill me,
I believe were his exact words.”

Tracy looked at Decker in the rearview mirror as he shook his head.

“It's time to move on,” he replied. “Isn't that what you shrinks are always encouraging us mere mortals to do? Well, I'm doing it. I don't want to know what kind of ugliness Jimmy invited into his life. He's gone and I've got Tess to think about now. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Including S-squared.”

“Sit the ef down and shut the ef up,” Tracy helpfully translated, as if the doctor—who'd worked extensively with spec op warriors—was unfamiliar with the expression.

Jo didn't even bother to glance at the younger woman, she just sat there, gazing up at Decker, a small smile on her lips. “I honestly can't tell if you're lying. I thought I could, but I can't. I mean, I
know
you are …” She shook her head. “We're on the same side here, Lawrence.”

“There are no sides,” Decker lied. “Because I don't want to turn this into a fight. The investigation will turn up nothing—there's nothing for the FBI to find, nothing for Tess and me to say. Nothing for the Agency to worry about.”

She finally nodded. “I'll pass that message along. But if they're going to believe that I have access to you …”

“You're going to need to have access to me,” Deck finished for her, aware that beside him, Tracy shifted in her seat. “You'll get it.” He met the younger woman's eyes in the rearview and knew that she was thinking of a different kind of access. Or maybe he was the one who was thinking about it. “I think your problem with the Agency is going to go away when my problem with the FBI ends. If not, we'll deal with it. If you need me, I'll be staying at Tracy's place for the next few days.”

“Upstairs from Tess,” Jo verified.

He nodded again. “We should touch base tomorrow,” he told her. “I'll want to see those photos.”

She nodded, too. “Is your cell number the same?”

“Yeah, but my phone's not working. If you need to reach me before tomorrow, call Tracy, but keep in mind her line's not secure.” He rattled off Tracy's number as Jo plugged it into her phone. She then started to hand him another one of her cards, but he shook his head, adding, “I still have yours in my phonebook.”

That got him another glance from Tracy, who in about five seconds was going to slide all of her warmth and softness away from him. She'd already taken her hand from his neck, a fact that made him feel far too bereft, considering.

“Do me a favor,” Decker found himself saying to Jo, “and tell Tracy here that we never slept together—that there was nothing between us.”

“We never slept together,” the doctor repeated obediently, as she opened the door and climbed out. “But I wouldn't say that there was nothing between us.”

And wasn't that just perfect?

As he shook his head, she closed the door and Tracy slid away. And Decker did the only thing he could do.

He put the truck in gear and drove.

“We need to bring more people on board.”

Tess glanced over at Jules, who was driving the van. They'd just dropped off Robin and were now heading toward the low-rent part of town, where there was an entire strip of cheap motels—one of which they were going to pick as the place they'd meet up with Decker.

And Tracy Shapiro.

That was going to be weird—seeing Tracy again after accepting her condolences at Jimmy's memorial service. And Tess didn't even want to think about how awkward it was going to be when she and Deck went to the airport to pick up Sophia and Dave, later tonight.

Sophia
and
Dave. It was humbling to think about all that Decker had sacrificed to protect Jimmy.

“Yes, no, maybe?” Jules prompted, and she realized she hadn't answered him. What had he said? Something about bringing more people aboard—as in telling them Jimmy was alive, and asking for their help.

“I agree.” Tess had the utmost respect for both Sam and Alyssa, and yet she couldn't help but feel anxious about leaving Jimmy without a bigger army to defend him, if need be.

“Decker's resisting,” Jules told her. “And I totally get why he doesn't want to ask Dave for help, but we're running out of personnel.”

She nodded. “I'll talk to him.”

“I could call in some favors with SEAL Team Sixteen,” Jules said. “But I'll run the names past you guys first.”

“It's okay if we don't talk about this right now,” Tess said. “I know you're freaking out about Robin. Unless it helps to talk …”

Troubleshooter Ric Alvarado had flown in from the Florida office, along with his extremely capable wife, Annie, to take over as head of Robin's security team, on and off the movie set. Ric's forte was in personal protection, but regardless of that, it hadn't been easy for Jules when Robin had gotten out of the van and into Ric's truck.

Tess knew that it hadn't helped that Robin hadn't kissed Jules goodbye. But he couldn't, because Jules was in disguise. The FBI agent had colored his hair—not drastically, but enough to make it look a naturally lighter shade of brown. He'd messed it up into a less conservative style, and with the goatee and mustache he'd grown over the past few weeks, Hawaiian shirt over a plain white beater, and drab green cargo shorts, he looked like a college student working a summer job driving a van.

The Hawaiian shirt hid his shoulder holster and sidearm as neatly as blue contact lenses and sunglasses hid the warmth of his soulful brown eyes.

He laughed now—a rueful chuckle. “I know Robin's safe with Ric and Annie,” he said.

“But it's hard when you're not right there, with him,” Tess countered. “Believe me, I'm dealing with that, too.”

“We'll be back at the house before you know it,” he reassured her.

Tess nodded. They would be—provided everything went as planned.

Except there already was a glitch. Deck's sat phone was having some kind of hardware failure and he'd yet to get his hands on a replacement. So
they'd set up a plan for Jules and Tess to e-mail one of Deck's anonymous free-mail accounts with their location, upon their arrival.

They were going to a motel instead of meeting at the Troubleshooters office because Jimmy had requested they take extreme precautions. Keeping Tess's location secret was paramount. And the fact was, a hotel or motel room, with its single entrance, was always easier to guard and defend. True, there was no escape route, but if they found themselves under attack, they were the good guys. They could easily call 9-1-1 for backup from the local police.

After they connected, Tess was going to try to fix Deck's phone, but there were no guarantees she could get the job done before they left for the airport to pick up Sophia and Dave.

That was a meeting that, no doubt, wouldn't be fun for any of them. Tess would have to pretend that Jimmy was dead—something she hated doing—and that she and Decker were in a relationship. Decker would get an up close and personal look at Sophia and Dave—both of whom would have to deal with seeing Decker again.

Yes, it was going to be awkward all around, but there were a wide variety of reasons—both personal and professional—for them to not tell Sophia and Dave the truth. Everyone was in agreement about that. Well, everyone except for Jimmy, who'd wanted to bring Dave in, right from the start.

But now it was in Dave's best interest, wounded as he was, to stay out of the fight. And Tess knew Decker would be better off, too, if he knew Sophia was safe.

So she and Deck were going to have to sit down with Sophia and Dave and convince them that Dave's assault was connected to an investigation they were conducting, but that the details were
need to know.
And not only did Sophia and Dave not need to know, but lives could well be in danger if they
did
know what was going on.