Traitor (8 page)

As though he will ever forgive you for spying on him,
I thought dejectedly.

Clayton eyed me, his professional Agent Vaughn persona back in place now that we were discussing official business. “Did he tell you that?” He asked skeptically. I decided that I preferred Clayton to Agent Vaughn.

“No,” I replied. “But I can just tell.”

I wished that Agent Vaughn would just take my word for it, that he wouldn’t press me to reveal why I made this assumption. But I had no such luck.

“I can’t work with ‘I can just tell.’ That doesn’t constitute hard evidence,” he said reprovingly. “I need you to be honest with me, Dr. Ellers.”

So we were back to Dr. Ellers again. It got my hackles up. I glared at him.

“He showed up at my house last night,” I admitted, my tone clipped. “His jaw was bruised, and he admitted that his father had hit him.”

“A fight doesn’t constitute coercion,” he said.

“It wasn’t a fight,” I insisted, irritation coloring my tone. “Sean didn’t fight back. He just said ‘You don’t fight Ronan Reynolds,’ and he wouldn’t say anything else. He got angry with me when I spoke out against his father. He seemed to think that I would be putting myself in danger if anyone found out that I had.” I speared Agent Vaughn with a hard look. “Does that sound like Sean has a say in the matter? He’s intimidated by Ronan,” I bit my lip as I made the admission. Sean certainly wouldn’t appreciate my sharing that. But I had to. To protect him.

Agent Vaughn considered me carefully. “That does sound suspicious,” he conceded. “But we’ll need more proof than that, I’m afraid.”

My hands clenched to fists beneath the table. What more did he want?

“And what about when he came to confront Sean when they were still holding me captive?” I demanded.

Agent Vaughn cocked his head at me. “What happened then?”

“After he left, Bradley seemed scared of the consequences for Sean standing up to Ronan to defend me. He asked Sean if he realized what his actions could cost both of them. I’m telling you, Ronan Reynolds has some power over them.”

“So you think Bradley is being coerced too?” Agent Vaughn asked, his brows drawing together.

“No,” I said firmly. “He’s a ruthless asshole. There’s no way he’s innocent.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Dr. Ellers,” he said. “Either Sea n and Bradley have been intimidated into working for the Westies, or they are both just wary of him because he’s a higher-up.”

I frowned at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re wrong,” I said staunchly. “It’s not that black-and-white.”

“Then gather more evidence to the contrary,” he told me. “That’s the only way forward here.”

I scowled at him, and his expression softened. “I’m not trying to antagonize you. I’m just being realistic about what we need if you want to exonerate Sean. Do you understand that?”

I held my glare for a moment, but I gave him a jerky nod. If the FBI needed more evidence, then I would get it for them.

“One thing is becoming clear, though: Ronan Reynolds is a linchpin in the organization, as we had suspected. I know that Sean is trying to distance you from him, but any further information you can gather on him will be a great help. I know that your relationship with Bradley is… tense.”

I snorted derisively, but he continued on over me. “But if you could spend any time around him at all, you might learn more. If he truly is a willing member of the Westies, then he might be keener to put you in the line of fire when it comes to Ronan than Sean is.” He fixed me with a hard look. “I know that what I am asking of you is dangerous, and I understand if you’re not comfortable with this. We can put that security detail on you if it will make you feel safer.”

I took a shaky breath. Given Sean’s warnings about his father, I couldn’t deny that the idea of exposing myself to him scared me shitless. But if this was what it took to avenge my parents, to save Sean, then I would do it. “No,” I said after a moment. “A security detail could be detected, and then I would be a target. I don’t want to have to go into witness protection and abandon my life if they find out about me. Besides, if you do have to take action against someone if I am threatened, then my cover will be blown. Sean will protect me, and…” I hesitated. “And I do have a gun,” I said quietly.

Clayton nodded at me approvingly. “I’m glad to hear that you are considering using it if you have to.”

I swallowed hard, suppressing a shudder. Just the thought of it made me queasy.

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Agent Vaughn asked.

I’m fucking Sean again. I lasted all of two days before succumbing to him.

But I shook my head. That was none of the FBI’s business. I couldn’t bear the thought of them thinking that I was whoring myself out for information.

It’s not like that,
I assured myself.
I care about Sean.
Every word that I had said to him the night before was true. Well, except for the part where I told him he could trust me.

Agent Vaughn stood and shut off the video camera. He shot me a wide smile. Clayton was back, and I was relieved to see him.

“Sorry about giving you the third degree,” he apologized. “It’s my job.”

I was slightly mollified that he acknowledged that he was a bit of a coldhearted bastard when he questioned me. “I understand,” I said.

“Come on,” he urged me. He looked me up and down, but there was nothing sexual about it. “You look like you could use some food. Chinese again?”

I returned his smile. “Sure. Thanks. I can give you some cash for it.” I was uncomfortable with the idea of him paying for me.

He held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on Uncle Sam. It’s the least he can do to repay you for your courage.”

A few minutes later, I found myself in the privacy of his office. I braced myself for the discussion about my parents’ deaths, determined not to break down into a blubbering mess this time.

“So,” Clayton began, “I wanted to give you the game-plan. I’ve managed to track down an inmate, a former member of the Latin Kings, who might talk to us. He was incarcerated around the time that your parents died. The area where they were killed was disputed territory between his gang and the Westies, so he might know something about it. He’s had a hard time of it in prison; he’s been getting hassled for snitching on some of his friends. I’m willing to offer him protection and a reduced sentence in exchange for information.”

Hope welled within me. “You can do that?” I asked.

He nodded grimly. “As much as I hate the idea of releasing the bastard, I’m willing to do it for you. I promised that I would help you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to do so.”

I was amazed that he was going to such lengths to make good on his promise. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

He gave me a small smile. “It’s not a problem. We’ll watch him closely when he gets out, and if the bastard so much as passes one of the Latin Kings on the street, we’ll haul his ass back in. He’ll probably high-tail it out of New York pretty quickly though. He betrayed too many of his compatriots to survive long once we let him out.”

He regarded me seriously. “I don’t want to pry into your personal affairs, and I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but are you alright? Emotionally, I mean. You know that you can talk to me if you’re having a hard time. Nothing you say will leave this office. I swear.”

I was touched by his sincerity, again stunned by his kindness. He really did want nothing more than to help me, than to comfort me. No one had ever offered that to me before. I bit my lip. “I can’t lie,” I said. “It hasn’t been easy. Nothing has been easy since my parents died,” I found myself admitting quietly.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Claudia.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, trying to brush it off.

His bright blue eyes captured mine, and I was relieved not to detect a trace of pity. “I know that,” he said solemnly. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to do everything in my power to help make it right. As far as that is possible. I know that you lost your only family that night, that you were put into foster care.”

I flinched.

“Were they unkind to you?” He asked gently.

“‘Unkind’ doesn’t begin to cover it,” I said, anger tingeing my voice.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?” He pressed. “Have you seen a counselor? I know that I’ve offered before, but we have someone that you could see if you wanted to.”

My expression turned stony. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said sharply.

He held up his hands, placating. “Okay,” he backed off. “I don’t want to upset you. It’s just… You’ve taken on a lot, and I can see the strain it’s putting you through. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

He could see right through me, just like Sean. I really must be cracking if my emotional burdens were becoming so obvious. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I wanted to change the subject. I plastered on a weak smile.

“It’s not fair, you know,” I said lightly. “You seem to know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.” I needed to deflect him.

He frowned slightly, but he rolled with the change of topic. “I guess it’s only fair that I share, then. Although I warn you that you’ll probably be bored; my life story isn’t all that exciting.”

This time my smile was genuine. “I highly doubt that. You work for the FBI. Isn’t your life all crime-fighting? Sounds pretty interesting to me.” I looked at him expectantly, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he conceded. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you decide to join the FBI? And why did you decide to join the War on Drugs in particular?”

He grinned back at me, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“The long one, please.” We might as well chat over dinner. I didn’t want any more uncomfortable silences that might be filled with further questions about my past.

“Remember that you asked for it,” he warned. “I grew up in a small town outside of Des Moines called Indianola. My dad was a cop there, my granddad was a cop. I guess I was destined for law enforcement.”

“I get that,” I said. “I decided to become a doctor because my dad was a surgeon.”

He nodded. “Exactly. It was pretty much expected of me. Don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t resentful or anything. But as much as I love my hometown, I wanted to break the cycle and move to a bigger city. I did try to resist my fate for a while, and I got a little rebellious in college. I had been playing football since I was a kid, and I got accepted to the University of Iowa on a full athletic scholarship.”

I eyed him, realizing that his musculature was obvious under his suit. And he definitely had captain-of-the-football-team good looks. I smiled at him slyly. “Why am I not surprised that you were a football player?”

“Is it that obvious?” He asked.

“Definitely,” I nodded. “I bet you dated cheerleaders and the whole nine yards,” I teased.

He chuckled. “Guilty as charged. I guess I’m a walking stereotype. Please don’t think less of me.”

I tried not to smile too broadly. “Not at all,” I said, but I couldn’t keep amusement from coloring my tone. “So how did you get back into crime-fighting then?”

This time he laughed aloud. “You make me sound like a superhero or something. I’m not Spiderman.”

I studied him pointedly. “Nope,” I said definitively. “Not nerdy enough to be Spiderman.”

“Stop it. You’ll make me blush,” he joked. Then he continued on. “Well, I wanted to go pro, but I screwed up my knee in my junior year of college, and that was it for me.” He looked slightly regretful.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That sucks.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if that hadn’t happened. And I’m pretty happy with my life.” He grinned at me. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt that I get to help out beautiful damsels in distress.”

I huffed indignantly. “You do realize that you sound like a chauvinistic ass, right?”

He laughed again. “It’s not hard to get a rise out of you, is it?”

I couldn’t help laughing along with him. “I guess not,” I admitted. “I should probably work on that.” But a part of me couldn’t help registering that he had called me beautiful. No one but Sean had ever called me that. But I detected nothing but a playful light in Clayton’s eyes, so I shrugged it off, deciding that it didn’t necessarily mean that he was interested.

“What’s the rest of your story, Morning Glory?” I pressed.

“‘Morning Glory’? What are you, from the fifties? If so, you have exceptional skin for someone so old. What’s your secret?”

“Morning Glory” had been something that my mother had always said to me. I hadn’t used the saying in years, and I was vaguely surprised to realize that it had popped out of my mouth. It just felt natural.

“Uh-uh,” I said. “I won’t rise to your bait again.”

“Damn. You’re a quick study,” he said, amused.

“I do try,” I smiled easily. “So,” I prodded. “Tell me more. I promise I am positively enthralled.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Who’s baiting whom now?” He asked. Then he sighed dramatically. “Okay, so after college, I accepted my fate as a crime-fighter,” his lips quirked up at the corners as he echoed me. “But just to be a little different, I decided to go with the FBI rather than becoming a cop.”

“So why choose to track down drug dealers?” I asked. “Any particular reason, or were you just assigned to your division?”

His expression turned somber, and I regretted asking the question. I didn’t like that I had wiped the smile from his face. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “That was personal.”

“No,” he said. “You’ve shared a lot with me, and it’s only fair that I do the same.” He hesitated for a moment before plowing on. “I had a girlfriend in college. She was a fun, sweet girl, but she got really into smoking pot. She became a different person, losing all interest in socializing. She just retracted into herself and didn’t want to do anything other than sit in her apartment and smoke. But instead of talking to her about it, I just broke things off with her.” His brows drew together and guilt filled his eyes. “She started to get into heavier drugs. I knew about it, but I didn’t say anything. I figured it was a phase and she would be fine.” His handsome features twisted in anguish. “Then one day I found out that she had taken too much acid.”