by Mary Stone
Bull was gone.
And as she watched, the loaded truck pulled away. The suspects were gone too.
She wanted to scream in frustration and grief. Curl up on the floor and give in to the nagging effects of the gas. Hit rewind to back up to the point where she’d suggested she and Bull do the stakeout.
Instead, she swallowed back tears and started digging through the desk, looking for something to get her out of the security office. She found it in the form of a screwdriver.
With hands that shook, she used it to remove the screws on the plate that covered the door handle mechanism. It felt like the task took hours, but in moments, she’d removed the doorknob itself. By wedging the screwdriver in, she was able to unlock it.
Thankfully, the suspects had left the overhead door open, and the gas had dissipated.
The first security guard she reached was breathing, but still out. She went through his pockets and found a phone. She sank down on the ground next to the unconscious man and dialed 911 with fingers that still felt numb.
“That’s surely enough, isn’t it?”
They’d made the transfer of the money, leaving the armored truck in an empty industrial warehouse and loading the money they’d gotten into a waiting SUV. Now, Heidi drove them to a new, unknown safe house where they’d prepare for the last scene in her game.
Ryan hoped they’d be pulled over for a traffic ticket. Arrest, and even the thought of prison, would be better than this.
She glanced at him and gave him an odd smile.
“Where’s your enthusiasm, O’Connelly? You’re a thief. We’ve just gotten away with millions. You should be in your element right now.”
It had been a rush. He could admit that. Everything had gone off without a hitch, but the nerve gas in the little silver canisters would have worn off by now, leaving a bunch of confused—but alive—security employees and two baffled federal agents. He’d discreetly checked a couple of guards before he’d left. They were alive, just knocked out cold.
Plus, he’d gotten one up on Heidi, though she didn’t know it yet.
The bitch was going down.
“Yeah. The money is nice, and it was better this time, given that we didn’t have to kill anyone to get it. But you can’t just call it good and end it here? What more could you want, love? You can’t top what you did tonight.”
Heidi didn’t answer for a moment. When she did, her voice was different. Friendlier, somehow. It sent a shiver of fear and revulsion down his back. “You’re right. You’ve done well. We’ll have to tally everything up, but the armored depot take was even better than I’d expected. If you want out, I’ll let you go.”
Ryan didn’t believe her. He’d seen her sadistic nature too many times before. Instead, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at her words. Whatever she had planned for the next robbery, it involved him.
Her motives, her background, her thoughts…Heidi Presley was still an enigma. He knew her well enough by now, though, to know she didn’t just abandon plans. She stuck with them until the end.
If she was playing nice now, that didn’t bode well for him. She wasn’t going to let him go that easily.
No way was he getting out of this so easily, Heidi thought as she took the last turn to the safe house. Correction…there was no way he was getting out of this at all.
Everything had gone so perfectly, even better than expected.
No, that wasn’t true. The agent she’d been expecting hadn’t been there, and Heidi was bitterly disappointed that she hadn’t been able to meet the ambitious Sun Ming in person. But Sun’s replacement had been interesting, especially the way her nose had started to bleed as she’d approached the stakeout car. It was as if Heidi’s own omnipotence had affected the young agent from even yards away.
It had been fascinating. Eerie, but fascinating, and Heidi hoped to meet the dark-haired agent again. Maybe she would. Next time.
The nerve gas had been perfect. It had been such a rush being so close to the FBI agents. Better yet, taking them down. One permanently, though that hadn’t been exactly in the plan.
Oh, well.
All that did was intensify the suspense, and Heidi had always done better under pressure. She had no reason to believe this would prove to be any different.
Her only regret was needing to leave before Agent Black was awake. Heidi had very much wanted to talk to the agent, get to know her a bit better.
Maybe she’d still get that chance.
But now…first things first.
“Grab the bags,” she ordered Ryan as she turned off the engine to the SUV.
His jaw tightened, but only for a moment before he turned his bright smile on her. “Sure thing.”
While he did as he was told, Heidi opened the door to the safe house, stepping back for Ryan to get everything inside. It took three trips, but she was patient.
She’d always been filled with patience. It was one of her greatest virtues.
“I think that’s all,” Ryan said as he dropped the last bag onto the pile.
Heidi slipped on the gas mask, enjoyed the surprised look on his handsome face as he turned to face her.
This was going to be fun.
23
Winter was released from the hospital and back in Richmond by the following afternoon.
She didn’t want to go into the office. She was afraid to face her co-workers. Miguel, Brian, Bree…all people who, like Bull, she knew. But she didn’t really know them. Would they look at her with pity? Accusation? She had no way to judge. No reference point, because she’d gone out of her way to keep from building any relationships.
With the exception of Noah, she hadn’t tried to connect with anyone. That was on purpose. She was in the FBI for a reason, and making connections wasn’t it. Connections could just get you hurt.
The only reason she had Noah for a friend was that he wouldn’t have it any other way. His nice-guy act was a cover for a mulish, stubborn man. His good nature was a force to be reckoned with, chipping away at the walls she’d put up.
As far as the rest of the office went, she wouldn’t be making any new friends now. Winter Black, still basically a newbie to the unit, was the reason that Bull was dead.
When she’d spoken to Max on the phone from the hospital, he’d been stricken. He’d known Bull for a long time. They’d started their jobs within a couple of weeks of each other. He hadn’t sounded like he blamed her, though. His raspy voice had been filled with concern, and he’d asked if she wanted him to contact anyone for her.
She hadn’t wanted to scare her grandparents. They were old, and her Grandpa Jack hadn’t been in the best health since a rough flu bug had knocked him back a few months before.
She thought about Aiden. But he was at home in his chair, drinking whiskey and probably cursing his bad leg. Another mark in her responsibility column.
Noah was with Sun. They’d have been summoned back to HQ, she was sure. But she wasn’t about to take anyone away from the case now.
In the end, she’d just signed herself out of the hospital and flown back on her own, despite the doctor’s insistence that she stay until they could be sure there were no aftereffects from the unknown gas.
The office was quiet when she went in. She could hear keyboards clacking. There was no chatter, though. No talk about sports. No case discussions held over cubicle walls. There was a pall over the office that was palpable.
Max must have been waiting for her. He opened his office door before she could get to her own cubicle. “Agent Black,” he called out in a low voice. “Come on in here.”
She stiffened. Braced for what, she didn’t know.
But the awkward hug she received from the SAC took her off guard. She almost lost it then.
“You can take some time,” he offered, letting her go. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept at all the night before.
She shook her head and cleared her throat. “No thank you, sir. I want to
catch them.”
He nodded, as if expecting that. “Noah and Sun are back. They’re in the small conference room.”
“Listen,” she began, her voice sounding like a hand was wrapped around her throat. “I’m sorry—”
“No.” In an instant, blustery Max was back. His face reddened. “Don’t even fucking say that. I know where the blame lies, and it’s not with you,” he barked. “Now, get back to work.”
She left his office, feeling a little bit better.
“Winter.”
Noah shot to his feet and crossed the room in three quick strides as soon as she entered. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her so tight that her face was pressed into his shirt. He smelled like peppermint and fabric softener. She relaxed a little bit into his embrace. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He just comforted her.
Sun couldn’t stand it.
She’d been wrong. She was so convinced that the next hit would go down in California, at the site of the original robbery. There had been no reason to think it wouldn’t. It fit the pattern.
Instead, she ended up looking like an ass, flying across the country in the opposite direction of where all the action would go down.
Leaving Winter to get it right.
And now, Winter was being heralded as some kind of hero and victim, all at the same time. Noah, so big and hot, hadn’t given Sun a second glance when she’d thrown some pretty heavy hints in his direction over dinner the night before. But he’d jumped up like a trained spaniel as soon as the damn rookie had come into the room. She’d looked all pale and wan and fragile, like the tragic heroine in a novel.
Milking it, Sun decided in disgust.
Now, he was cradling her in his arms like she would break.
Until Sun cleared her throat. The noise was loud in the silent room. “That’s enough.” Her voice was cold. “We have work to do.”
Noah shot her a loaded look, but she refused to cower, staring him down. They still had a case to solve. He let Winter go.
She waited until Noah and Winter were seated to begin.
“The armored truck was found this morning at a warehouse two miles from the depot. It had been emptied. A double homicide reported two hours before the robbery turned out to be the depot manager and a woman named Molly St. Claire. His girlfriend, according to neighbors. No witnesses. At the depot, we lost one of ours,” she looked toward Winter, who visibly flinched, “and two guards were unable to be revived at the scene.”
She knew she was coming off as unfeeling, and she did regret Bull’s death, but she was more frustrated by her own lack of foresight. She’d been chosen to catch these suspects. So far, she was doing a shit job. Winter was only doing marginally better, but she was still coming out smelling like roses. Sun’s competitive streak wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that slide.
“The depot robbery wasn’t a total bust,” Sun added, making an attempt to shake off her black mood. “NYPD managed to lift a full fingerprint off one of the gas canisters. It was not a match for Ryan O’Connelly.”
Noah’s eyes went sharp. “Whose was it?”
“A woman named Heidi Presley.” She looked down at her laptop, drawing out the suspense on purpose. “I believe she’s suspect number two. She’s an IT employee and works remotely from a location in northern Michigan. No criminal priors. She’s apparently single, lives alone in the house she grew up in. She inherited it after her mother’s death in a local assisted living facility a year and a half ago. Father is deceased. Died of cancer in the early nineties.”
Noah leaned forward. “She sounds low-key. How do we have her on file?”
“Government contract work. About a decade ago, she was put through a full security clearance. She didn’t raise any red flags then, but it put her in the system.” Again, she glanced up at Winter. “I’ve spoken with Aiden Parrish this morning. He’s in agreement that she could fit the profile, but we need to know more about her. We’ve got a search warrant for her house. You two leave tonight.”
She was being petty. She didn’t care.
Winter didn’t react, just sat there like a lump.
Milking it.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “Is that wise at this point? Wouldn’t it make sense to just do this remotely? Or have the locals search her place? If the suspects stick to the pattern, they’ll be hitting again in less than forty-eight hours.”
“Case agent,” she reminded him, pointing at herself. “My decision.”
Sure, she’d be down two team members out of the three they were left with at this point, but she didn’t need them. This was her last chance to break the case on her own. She had time. She’d gotten another email, this one giving her a date. They’d extended the deadline, giving her three days this time until the final act.
“I’ve got a tech team split between working on the emails and digging into Heidi Presley’s background. I’ll hold things down here and figure out where the next hit will be. You two are going to Michigan.”
The only person you could really count on was yourself, anyway.
24
They pulled up in front of a large, burgundy house. The early morning sunshine was just cresting the top of the roof, glimmering over the tall, Victorian peaks.
“Nice place,” Noah murmured. “If you like horror movies.”
The place was empty, no lights showing from any of the windows on any of the three floors.
Snow lay thick on the ground, and the front walk hadn’t been shoveled. The mailbox had been removed, indicating the owner didn’t plan on coming back right away.
Noah glanced at Winter. She’d been quiet on the flight, sleeping most of the time. She’d also been tight-lipped on the drive from the Traverse City Airport, once their plane landed in Michigan. Of course, he’d been quiet too, trying to navigate the rental through what felt like a blizzard. They’d gone their separate ways at the hotel.
Noah was still pissed off at the way Sun had acted. She was in full-on bitch mode, not focusing on anything but moving the case forward. Which was fine. But she’d showed no feeling at all and had treated Bull’s death with complete dismissal. Then, she’d pulled Winter aside and said something to her before they left. Winter refused to talk about it, but whatever it was had left her face chalky white.
He’d find out.
“Let’s get in there and see what we can find out about Heidi,” he said. “Hopefully she’s written out a convenient manifesto.”
Winter didn’t respond, just stared toward the darkened house.
“First, though,” Noah began, “you need to snap out of it.”
This was going to be painful, but it had to be done. He left the car running, the air vents blasting to combat the fifteen-degree temperature outside. She looked at him, surprised by his harsh tone.
“You’re kicking your own ass here over Bull, and you’ve let Sun get to you. All your bad guys are winning right now.”
“That’s not true,” she countered, stirring in her seat a little. “I’m fine. You’re the one wasting time right now.”
“You’re a shell.” Noah’s words were blunt. “You’re not going to do anyone any good like this. What did Sun say to you before we left?”
Her eyes seemed to darken a shade. “Nothing that wasn’t true.”
“Out with it.”
Without emotion, she stared out at the snow. At first, he thought she wouldn’t answer, but she finally sighed, exhaling a long breath. “She told me that this was what came of a rookie trying to get on the fast-track. Letting ambition blind me, insisting I knew better than more experienced agents, and putting my co-workers in the line of fire. That it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.”
“And you bought that?” He snorted. “Why’d you believe that load of crap was true, and not that you were the office slut?”
“Because this time, what she said is true!”
She finally got some color in her cheeks, even if it was the angry kind. He was just
glad to get a reaction. She’d been eerily quiet.
“How can you say I didn’t get Bull killed? It was my idea to do the stakeout. It was my idea to focus on the Brooklyn facility. If I’d been wrong, we’d still be in the same position. A robbery committed, prints on the canisters…but Bull wouldn’t be dead. Technically, I was right. I guessed the location correctly. But my actions after that didn’t change anything, except for the worse.”
“Sun is jealous. You know that, right?”
It was Winter’s turn to snort. “Why would she be? You all do nothing but sing her praises. She’s smart, focused, intense…exactly what an agent should be like.”
“She’s missing the compassion,” he pointed out, still trying to be reasonable.
“Compassion doesn’t catch killers.”
It was time to change tactics, and this one would be a doozy. He went with it anyway. “Look, you’re being self-indulgent right now,” he barked, raising his voice at her for the first time. “Stop.”
Her face went crimson. “I’m—”
“It’s true.” He was treading in dangerous waters. “Bull is gone. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t gas him. Did you somehow know that the suspects planned on using some kind of weapons-grade nerve gas?”
He’d gotten an email full of preliminary reports and read it on the plane. He knew she hadn’t known that.
She shook her head in the negative, mute, though her interest was finally engaged.
“That’s right. One of the suspects managed to score a chemical weapon. They’re still working on finding out how. You can’t just pick up that stuff at Walmart, you know. And tell me, you spent time with Bull. Would you say he was in good physical health?”
“He was strong—”
“His heart wasn’t,” Noah interrupted. “What’d he eat when you guys had your meals?”
“Nachos.” She laughed a little. It sounded more like a sob. “I think. He ate them so fast, it was hard to tell.”