“But if anyone finds out you’re still working the case, and with me, no less, it won’t be good for your career.” His Southern accent, which seemed to come and go like the wind depending on his mood, thickened with his regret-laced words.
“Some things are more important,” she answered honestly. “And I want to help.” Need to help.
“Addy,” he said, his voice softening, “I don’t want anything happening to you.”
“I seem to recall a few hours ago you were pretty impressed with my ability to handle myself.”
“Don’t go to Atlanta. Maybe heading back to D.C. is for the best.” He’d ignored her comment, focusing on her safety. Typical.
Before she could muster a defense, her work phone began ringing. “It’s Calloway. Should I answer?”
“Yeah.” He sat on her bed.
“This is Foster,” she answered.
“You okay?” Calloway asked, concern in his tone.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m, uh, resting at the hotel.”
“Liar,” he said, but she could detect a smile in his tone. “I know you, and you’re not going to back down.”
“What’s up, Calloway?” she asked, not in the mood to get reamed out by her coworker right now if that was his plan.
“I thought you’d want to know agents arrested Aaron’s friend. He was at his home watching The Price is Right when the police broke down his door.”
Yeah, okay, that doesn’t make sense. Shoot at agents then go watch daytime TV. She placed him on speakerphone so Knox could hear, although she had no idea why Calloway was risking his neck for her. “They find any weapons? He say anything?”
“He had a Glock registered in his name, but the casings left behind and ammo pulled from the squad car aren’t a match,” he answered. “He reported his truck stolen last night, but he doesn’t have an alibi for today, so—”
“The FBI thinks he’s lying, right?” For some reason, she believed Mr. Price is Right.
“The photos from the traffic cams were too fuzzy to ID the driver.” A soft whistle came through the phone. “Preliminary autopsy findings suggest Chelsea died of manual strangulation first, then she was stabbed in the back with the knife. We’re still sweeping her place and processing all the DNA evidence found on scene.”
“Calloway, why are you telling me this?” It didn’t make any sense. He was up next for a presidential detail position. She may have butted heads with him after their dating failure, but she didn’t want him losing his job because of her.
He was quiet for a moment. “Because regardless of what you think of me, I’m not a dick. And I know Knox is your friend and you’ll do whatever it takes to help him. I don’t want you getting hurt because of that, so I’d rather you know everything before you jump blindly.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She looked at Knox, and his eyes were on the floor.
“See you around, Foster.”
She ended the call and tossed her phone onto the bed. “That was unexpected.”
“He clearly has a soft spot for you.” Knox’s mouth tightened briefly. “We need to talk to my team and let them know what we found out.”
“Yeah, I just need a second.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, wrestling with her emotions with everything that’d happened since Tuesday.
“Say the word, and I’ll take you back to D.C. myself. If you don’t feel right about this, I’ll—”
“I’d never leave your side,” she said while peering at him, a near wobble to her chin. “Don’t you know that by now?”
Chapter Sixteen
“The dark side suits you. I like it.” A.J. flashed Adriana a smile as he sat across from her on the couch in Jessica’s suite. “I’m still sorry we got you tossed from your assignment.”
She also knew he was sorry he lost Aaron that morning, and like Knox, he wouldn’t let that go. “I’ll be fine.” She glanced at Knox standing behind where Luke worked at the desk.
Luke had given her a warm introduction when she met him, and he’d invited her to dinner with his family when this was over. The man appeared a bit hard around the edges but with a good heart. In fact, all of Knox’s friends seemed amazing.
Even though it hurt he’d kept them from her, at least he had friends like them when she wasn’t around.
“Where’s Jessica and Asher?” She pulled a pillow on her lap and played with the silver-and-black-colored tassel. “I was hoping to say hi.”
“Jessica’s morning sickness has kicked into gear,” A.J. said. “She’s been throwing up, and papa bear acts like this ain’t the norm.”
“He’s forcing her to rest in the suite across the hall,” Luke translated with a smile. “Asher won’t leave her side, so . . .”
“Should she even be here?” she asked.
“I’d like to send her home, but the woman’s stubborn,” Luke answered.
At his words, Knox peered her way, and she could pretty much read his thoughts. Like you, he’d probably been thinking.
But she wasn’t nearly as stubborn as Knox, and he had to know that.
“Harper’s been doing a lot of the leg work for us since she’s at our home office in New York,” Knox explained, returning his focus to Luke’s laptop. “She’s an intelligence genius like Jessica.”
Home office? Knox had mentioned he worked out of New York City a lot, but how many offices did they have? And why so many? What the hell do you really do?
“We should hear from Harper soon,” Luke added.
“You think she can ID the photo your people pulled from the traffic cams of the driver in that truck?” The FBI couldn’t, but Knox had said Jessica’s software was better, so maybe there was hope.
“I’m sure she will,” Luke said with enough confidence that she believed him.
Knox turned toward the window behind the desk and palmed the glass. He’d changed since the morning into khakis and a white tee.
“What are you thinking?” she blurted, forgetting they weren’t alone.
Knox faced the room, his eyes connecting with hers. “About how Chelsea died.” He brought his hand around his throat, his bicep flexing in the process. “Takes about thirty-three pounds per square inch to close the trachea. Four to five minutes for brain death if strangulation persists.” He lowered his hand. “Strangulation is usually personal.”
“Unless he was trying to keep her quiet,” A.J. suggested.
“But the knife to the back after she was already dead was either a statement or—”
“Another form of misdirection?” A.J. cut Knox off. “Shit. But Aaron was there. He had the bloody knife. He fought me when I wrestled him to the ground.”
“You said he looked surprised to see you, and he was fighting to get away, not to hurt you.” Knox’s eyes lifted to A.J.’s face. “Then he stole the bike and took off.”
“But it had to be him, right? What else could’ve happened?” A.J. placed a hand over his heart.
Knox closed his eyes as if placing himself back at the scene of the crime that morning. “The suitcase by her bathroom door. Clothes on her bed. She was packing.”
“She was on her way out of Charlotte.” Adriana set the pillow aside and stood.
“It’s also possible Aaron found her dead, realized it was his knife in her body, then grabbed it and took off when we breached the place,” Knox added.
“But why was Aaron there in the first place?” It was still the unanswered question of the freaking day.
Luke folded his arms. “Not sure, but it’d be nice to get a chance to talk to Aaron and find out.”
“I guess because Aaron looks guilty doesn’t mean he is,” she said.
A.J. slapped his palms together in prayer. “Are we thinking there’s still a chance he’s innocent?”
“We need to identify the son of a bitch who shot at us this morning,” Knox said. “And we need to figure out how Chelsea is connected to this.”
“Guys,” Luke hollered loud enough for Wyatt and Liam
to hear. “We got a hit. Harper emailed me.”
The door to the bedroom opened, and Wyatt and Liam entered the room. “What’s up?” Wyatt glanced at A.J. “And why do you look so bloody happy?”
“Because Aaron might still be innocent.” A.J. smiled.
“Or maybe not,” Luke said, and everyone’s attention winged his way.
“Don’t go raining on my parade, brother.” A.J. circled the desk to look at Luke’s screen.
“Recognize him?” Luke asked.
“Son of a bitch.” A.J. dropped a few more expletives.
“What is it?” Adriana looked back and forth between the guys, her heart racing.
“Ike Jeramy, he’s the SOB who shot at us this morning?” Knox grimaced.
“Who’s Ike?” Now she was the one feeling out of the loop, and it was irritating as hell.
“He was in BUD/S with me. With Aaron.” A.J. scrubbed a hand over his closely trimmed beard. “He got kicked out, though. He had a problem with authority and running his mouth.”
“So, Aaron’s friend wasn’t lying. His truck was stolen.” She sat again, worried her legs would betray her nerves.
“And guess where he’s from,” A.J. said. “Robert Lee, Texas.”
“He still lives there, so it looks like he’s just visiting,” Luke said as his cell rang. “Putting you on speaker, Harper. We, uh, have a guest present. Adriana Foster.”
Was Luke letting Harper know to tread lightly with Adriana in the room? Probably.
And the apologetic look Knox shot her meant she was right.
“I found our connection to Chelsea,” Harper said quickly. “Ike works at the trucking company in San Angelo where Chelsea worked before she quit and moved to Charlotte. He’s one of their rig drivers. And guess where his rig is currently located? A truck station off route seventy-seven in Charlotte. I pulled up satellite footage of the area. As of this morning, his truck was there. I’m texting you the address now.”
“Good work,” Luke replied.
Wow. They were good.
“I’ll do some more digging and see what I come up with,” Harper said. “You gonna let the Feds know or handle this without them?”
The guys looked at each other and then pivoted to Adriana, the question written on their faces.
“If Mendez finds out, he’ll arrest you,” she said, worry darting up her spine. “And shouldn’t we get this guy’s face all over the news?”
Would they be making the right decision in leaving the Feds out of this?
Of course, her people had unceremoniously kicked her to the curb.
“All that will do is scare Ike underground. As far as he’s concerned, his diversionary tactic worked when Aaron’s friend was arrested,” Luke said.
“Ike and Aaron are from the same town. They probably all know each other and Chelsea lied about that. And now we know Aaron and Ike were in BUD/S together. They’re all connected, which means—”
“We’re back to thinking Aaron may be involved,” Knox finished for Adriana.
“Or it could be why Aaron was chosen as a fall guy,” A.J. suggested.
“You really think Ike would set up a friend? A guy he knew in the SEALs? And for what? Why?” Her eyes met Knox’s as her mind raced with possible theories.
“Because someone else is still calling the shots,” Luke said. “And we need to figure out why . . . because the why usually leads us to the who.”
Usually? How often do you do this?
She looked at Luke, and then at Wyatt and Liam. A.J. next. And finally Knox. “Who the hell are you guys? And for real.” She could no longer hold back. After seven years, she needed answers.
Chapter Seventeen
“I knew this would happen.” Knox let go of a sigh as he sat shotgun in the SUV while Wyatt drove to the truck station off route 77. “I knew if she got too close to me she’d figure out I’ve been lying to her.”
He’d been rotating between two worlds. Hell, if he counted the world of politics that would make three. He was like one of those guys you read about in the tabloids who had separate families . . . wives, kids, houses, and neither one knew about the other.
But could he live in all of them at once? Was it possible? Could he merge his worlds without the entire house of cards falling? Without losing the person he cared for more than anything?
Adriana would forgive him. He was certain of that because he knew her. Her heart was too big not to, but did he deserve it?
Yes, he’d taken an oath, and when she’d pushed back the other day about not sharing details because of her job—he’d understood more than she probably realized.
But everything he’d ever done, everything he did, was to keep her safe, wasn’t it?
Even if it wasn’t necessary to live such a secretive life, wouldn’t it be better for her not to know the details? Easier for her? She’d worry with every mission. And he’d worry about her worrying . . . then he’d lose focus.
Last year, he’d had to parachute into Argentina, and he’d jumped stiff. Had to use his reserve, and things could’ve very easily ended without his feet hitting the ground first. He’d told his buddies he was out of practice, but that wasn’t why he’d messed up.
How could he tell them he’d been thinking about Adriana, a woman he’d kept hidden from them for years?
“Is that why you kept her away from us? The real reason?” Wyatt’s question pulled him out of Argentina and back into the car.
“One of a few,” he said under his breath.
“I think she bought the story,” Liam said from the third row. “And you weren’t lying. We do side gigs at Scott and Scott.”
“I just left out all the other stuff we do.” Omissions were lies. He couldn’t pretend they weren’t anymore.
And Liam was wrong. Adriana hadn’t bought it for one second.
He saw the way she looked at him after the team recited their rehearsed lines about Scott & Scott and what they did for a living.
She’d only let the team think she believed them.
Adriana had put her neck out for his people by taking him to Chelsea’s earlier, and she was still risking her job for them now. She deserved the truth.
“She’ll be fine. She’s a tough cookie,” A.J. said as Knox reached for the radio to change the song. “Don’t even touch that dial. That’s Kenny Chesney.”
“Kenny who?” Knox glanced at Wyatt, and he shrugged.
“I’m gonna have a heart attack if you don’t know the Kenny Chesney.” A.J. mumbled something under his breath. “But hey, on a more serious note, when are you and Adriana gonna tie the knot?”
What? Knox shifted in his seat to face A.J., who was next to Asher in the second row. He lifted his sunglasses to catch the cowboy’s eyes. “You’re such an ass,” he said at the sight of the grin on his face.
“Who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend?” A.J. asked, zero hint of a joke in his tone.
“Don’t get any bloody ideas,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “You’re not my type.”
“Ah, you think we’re best friends?” A.J. teased. Wyatt lifted one hand from the wheel and reached back to try and smack him. “Sorry, brother, I got a thing for redheads. Maybe one in particular, too.”
“For being in our line of work, you guys should pay better attention to details,” Liam said. “Quinn has a white line around her wedding finger. She either doesn’t wear her ring to work, or she’s recently separated. So, I think you’ll strike out. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to see you try.” His phone began ringing. “It’s Emily,” he said, interrupting whatever response A.J. would’ve managed. “She must have news.” He placed the call on speakerphone.
Knox dropped his shades back in place and kept his eyes on Liam. He was in need of a distraction to temporarily remove his guilt.
“He’s seven pounds and six ounces. He has Sam’s dark hair. He’s so stinking cute,” Emily made the announcement as soon as Liam answered. “Owen wanted to call, but he’s b
usy making the nurses crazy to ensure Sam and the baby are okay.”
They should’ve been there for Bravo Two. It killed him they weren’t, and he couldn’t help but feel to blame. Then again, unless they solved this case, they might not even have a team.
“What’s his name?” Liam asked.
“Oh, right!” Emily exclaimed. “Matthew Jason York.”
Jason was Owen’s brother’s name, a SEAL who’d died on a covert operation over ten years ago.
Another loss. There’d been too many over the years.
“Tell them congrats,” Wyatt called out.
“Send us some photos,” Liam requested. “And let them know we’ll be there to see them when we can.”
“And how are things going?” Emily asked in a soft voice as if nervous to hear the answer.
“We’re good.” Liam coughed into a closed fist, clearly not comfortable with the lie. It was contagious.
“Liam James Evans, don’t you lie to me,” Emily said, her Southern accent about on point with Adriana’s.
“Shit, she three-named you, bro. You’re in trouble.” A.J. laughed.
Adriana loved to throw Knox’s middle name at him, too. Emily and Adriana would probably get along well. Maybe if he’d brought her into the group sooner . . . hell, he didn’t know where to go with that thought.
The past was the past.
He had to move forward and figure out how to deal with everything now.
“I’ll call you later,” Liam said. “Give Elaina a kiss. Love you.”
“Shit, man. You’re going soft,” Wyatt said, looking at Liam in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, well, wait until you meet the one, and then we can talk,” Liam grumbled.
“Hell no,” Wyatt shot back as he pulled into the truck station. “I already tried the marriage thing, and I’m gonna die alone. Happily so.”
Wyatt’s ex-wife.
It was something the man never talked about.
It’d been how he got his citizenship. But that’s all anyone knew.
“You feel like talking?” Asher slapped a palm on the back of Wyatt’s seat. “We’re here for you, man.”
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