The Agent's Surrender (9 page)

But a secret part of her had hoped her mother would do exactly that so she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Surely, her father couldn’t blame her if the court had stepped in. And she missed her mother. In her darkest, deepest, most shamefully weak part of herself...she wished her mother hadn’t left. But that hadn’t been her reality and she’d dealt with it. Her mother had tried a few more times, but Jane had finally stopped taking her calls and then, as expected, her mother had finally stopped phoning.

Jane swirled her wine. How would things have been different if her mother had stuck it out? Maybe if The Major hadn’t been so rigid...well, that was like wishing the tide would stop licking the shore. As long as there was a moon, there would be a tide. Some things would never change.

Including her father.

Stop this melancholy over a past long gone,
she chastised herself, banishing the memories. But apparently her brain was up to playing games because as soon as her thoughts cleared of family drama, she thought of Holden. The alcohol loosened her grip on what was appropriate, and she immediately mused on how perfect Holden’s physique was and how, maybe, in an alternate universe, they could’ve stayed together.

She missed quiet evenings spent curled on his sofa, watching eighties movies and arguing over what constituted a cult classic. The memory of one particular night made her sigh.

“
The Breakfast Club
is vastly superior to
Top Gun,
” she’d protested, throwing popcorn at him when he’d refused to budge. “We’re talking archetypal characters that completely capture the angst and uncertainty of being a teenager, all with a kick-ass soundtrack and the best dialogue ever written. There’s no way a movie about the navy’s cocky flybys is better.”

Holden grinned as if he had the ace. “Anything with fighter jets in the movie automatically ratchets the score a few points, which, of course, buries your movie about a bunch of whiny teenagers bitching about spending an afternoon together.”

“But don’t you get it? It’s an entire movie spent picking apart the daily lives of the American teen, showing in excruciating detail the pressures teens face in modern society.”

Holden had rolled his eyes and faked a yawn, then added, “Fighter pilots. And a kick-ass soundtrack—not to mention—” he paused for effect “—Kelly McGillis. She’s hot for an old lady.”

“Really? You’re such a man.”

“Yes, I am,” he had agreed with a shameless grin as he pulled her on top of him. She’d laughed and fallen against his chest, knocking popcorn everywhere. “You can concede defeat and I’ll accept your surrender.”

“Who says I’m surrendering?” She had looped her arms around his neck and pulled him close so their lips touched. After a long, deep kiss, she’d smiled against his mouth and said, “This feels like victory to me....”

“No fair using your womanly wiles. I have no defense against them.”

“I know.” She had laughed. “Now admit that my movie is better than yours.”

“Never.”

She’d nibbled his neck and nipped his ear, sweetening the deal. “Concede and I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.”

He had sucked in a sharp breath and rose up, wild excitement darkening his gaze. “Anything?”

“Anything,” she’d promised in a sultry whisper.

“You win! I concede!
The Breakfast Club
rules.” And then he’d hopped off and pulled her to her feet to scoop her up in his arms. “You, my dear, may find victory exhausting.”

Holden had spent the rest of the night pleasuring Jane in ways that had to be illegal in some places, leaving her in a state of total sated lethargy that’d seeped into the following day at the office. The sizzling memory made it hard to focus on work and each time they invariably ran into each other, she hadn’t been able to meet Holden’s gaze without blushing and trying to hide the all-over body tingle that shivered over her skin. Oh, yeah, Holden had definitely won that round, even if he’d admitted defeat.

Jane’s legs moved restlessly beneath the water, and she finished her wine with a quick swallow. What was she doing reminiscing about Holden? To what end? Total mortification, humiliation and endless mockery if he ever found out? Ugh. She rose from her bath and grabbed her towel. Enough tub time. She needed her head on straight if she was going to remain shoulder to shoulder with Archangelo. This girlie stuff was enough to give her the heebie-jeebies.

This ridiculous attraction to Holden could go right where she stored her feelings about her mother—tucked away in subzero.

Chapter 8

T
he following day, Reed called them both into his office first thing. The permanent frown marks etched into their boss’s face seemed a bit deeper this morning, which meant he wasn’t about to ask them if they were interested in purchasing Girl Scout cookies from his granddaughter. “Shut the door and take a seat,” he directed, motioning to them both. “You know I’m not a fan of conspiracy theories, but something’s not right about this case. Yesterday I got a visit from someone associated with Tessara Pharm with information that he shouldn’t have had.
Classified
information. The whole conversation gave me a bad vibe, and frankly, pissed me off because the guy’s attitude stank of arrogance.”

“What kind of questions was he asking?” Jane asked. “And how do you think he came by the information?”

“He was mostly asking about the investigation and why it had been reopened. The fact that he knew there was action on the case gave me a bad feeling.
No one
should know that you two are looking into new evidence. It seems Tessara Pharm has people with a long-armed reach.”

“Nothing like finding out that classified information isn’t as secure as you think,” Jane said, concerned.

“Yeah, exactly. So what do you have so far?”

Holden shared a look with Jane, not entirely ready to share what they’d found, though it seemed he’d have to give Reed something. “We went back to my brother’s bar and we found something that may have some significance, but it’s too early to tell. We’re in the process of chasing it down.”

“Such as?” Reed gestured with impatience. “Don’t make me drag it out of you. Just spit it out.”

Jane jumped in, surprising Holden. “Sir, if I may, it’s sensitive, and given the fact that information is being leaked to people outside of classified channels, Holden and I would rather keep our evidence close to the breast for the time being.”

“All right.” Reed grunted in understanding even if he didn’t like it. “I’ll give you that. I don’t know how Ulysses Rocha came across the information that he did, but you’re right in that our usual channels don’t seem secure. Just answer me this—do you think there’s something to your suspicion that Miko was involved in something bigger?”

Holden nodded gravely. “I do. I think the fact that Tessara Pharm is poking around in our investigation lends further credence to that belief.”

Jane’s nod betrayed none of her own misgivings. Holden owed her one. He knew that her word was solid. If she said she’d give him a week, a week he’d get and not a minute more or less. That was all he could ask for. “I think our next step should be to make a stop in at Tessara Pharm, don’t you?”

“That’s a long flight for a conversation,” Reed groused. “What’s wrong with the phone?”

“Gotta see the whites of their eyes, sir,” Jane answered and Holden agreed. “Microexpressions, body language—those things you can’t pick up on the phone.”

“All right. I’ll approve the expenditure, only because that Ulysses guy rubbed me wrong. But keep it short and sweet and don’t go ruffling feathers. I don’t want even more eyes on us during this investigation. This needs to be done by the numbers and without prejudice. Got it?”

Holden smiled. “Of course.”

“Stow that shit-eating grin, Archangelo. Don’t think for a second I don’t regret letting you poke around in a closed case. I have a feeling this is going to earn more than just extra paperwork. I have a headache already.”

Holden smothered his smile under an appropriately stern look of gratitude to his superior. “Yes, sir,” he said, and followed Jane out of Harris’s office and headed to their desks. Once in their respective seats, Jane booked plane reservations while he prepared to call Nathan. “Since we’re going to be in California, we might as well hit up Nathan, too. I have some questions regarding the last time he saw my brother alive.”

“You sure you want to do that?” Jane asked. “It’s not a pretty story.”

“I know. I’ve read your report. But Nathan might tell me a few things that weren’t in the report.”

Jane stiffened. “You mean you think he might’ve deliberately withheld information?”

“Calm down, G.I. Jane,” he said drily. “Nathan and Miko were buds, that’s all. They knew each other as friends, not just as peers. Maybe all we’ll do is share a beer and swap stories. Or maybe he’ll have something important to share.” He gestured to the airline page on her computer, adding, “Oh, and make sure it’s first class...I need the legroom.”

Jane rolled her eyes and turned to her computer to book the reservations.

* * *

Determined to make good use of her time during the flight, Jane took out her notebook the moment they were buckled in and ascending. It was eight hours to California, and she didn’t want to waste valuable time. “So let’s go over what we know so far,” she suggested, taking a second to appreciate the first-class accommodations. Holden was right—there
was
more legroom. “I figure it’s a good idea to consolidate the facts before we land so we know exactly what we’re doing and who we’re going to be talking to when we get there.”

A spark of appreciation lit up Holden’s gaze, and she tried not to read more into it than the moment warranted. But even as he seemed to like her initiative, it seemed Holden wasn’t about to discuss the case on the plane. “Your enthusiasm is admirable, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about the case here. Too many ears.”

Jane glanced around the first-class cabin. Although the odds were slim that anyone there might compromise their investigation, she sighed and tucked her notebook away because that 1 percent chance wouldn’t let her insist. “I guess I could take a nap, then,” she said, disappointed. She couldn’t help but add, “For the record, I think you’re being a little paranoid.”

“Haven’t you ever watched a spy movie? The person you overlook is always the one you should watch out for.”

“I don’t base my life around the flimsy plots of action movies.”

“Flimsy? You’ve obviously never watched any of the Bourne movies. And this is coming from the same woman who once argued pretty convincingly about the merits of an eighties John Hughes movie?”

Her cheeks flushed at the casual reference of that night, and she shot him a quelling look. He dropped the jocularity to say, “I’m not discussing this case unless we’re alone. Sorry, but the stakes are just too high for me to take the chance, no matter how slim the odds are that someone might be listening.”

She supposed if one of her brothers’ reputations was on the line, she wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks, either. “I see your point,” she conceded with an unhappy sigh. She could always take that nap. She ought to be tired because she hadn’t slept well last night, but her eyes weren’t about to close, not when she was wedged this close to Holden. She didn’t trust what she might mumble in her sleep, given her recent private musings. Unsettled, she shifted away from Holden as much as the seat would allow. He caught the motion and called her on it. “Do you think I have cooties or something? I promise I do bathe regularly. I even brush my teeth on occasion.” To illustrate, he flashed his pearly whites.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she lied. “I just like my personal space. And I hate flying,” she muttered, silencing him by adding tersely, “And don’t try to lecture me that flying is safer than driving. I
know
the statistics. It’s a mental thing, so just leave me be about it.”

Holden seemed vastly amused by her admission, his grin widening. “You’re afraid of flying?”

She bristled. “I didn’t say I was
afraid.
I just said I don’t like it. If God meant for us to fly, he would’ve given us wings.”

Holden laughed. “Who knew that tough-as-nails Jane Fallon was afraid of a little modern technology?”

“I’m not afraid of modern technology,” she insisted. “I love my smartphone. Just something about the idea of flying doesn’t sit right in my head. I mean think about it...how are we even staying up in the air? No, don’t answer. I know the physics. I’m simply saying fundamentally this giant cargo bus should not be flying around like a huge bumblebee in the sky.”

“Just when I think I have you figured out—you go and say something that completely tips what I think I know on its head.”

Holden thought he had her figured out? That would be the day. But she was a tiny bit flattered that he’d tried. “Don’t get too comfortable, Archangelo. I’m a person you would never be able to figure out.”

“When you say that, I hear a challenge. And I can’t in good conscience let a challenge go without answering the siren call.”

“Oh, is that so?” She tried not to find his smirk adorable, but it was doing weird things to her stomach. She bumped him with her shoulder like she would any ol’ dude. “Talk about testosterone overload.” Were all guys the same? Or maybe it was all guys in the military. Her brothers were the same way. And her father. “Let’s put a pin in your curiosity about me and share something about Miko, maybe about growing up together.”

Holden relaxed and a small smile formed on his lips, though she saw the ghost of grief hovering around the edges. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. What was he like as a kid? Was he like you?”

“People assume because we were twins we were exact copies of one another, but really, we were nothing alike.”

“How so?”

“For one, Miko was a better man than me.”

That shocked her. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Miko was ruled by an intense need for justice. That’s why he went into the military, whereas I went because I wanted someone to pay for my college. But Miko wanted to do something for the greater good. He took pride in the fact that he did what others couldn’t. He was always one for the underdog.”