True, she had to be on guard every moment, and it was hard to watch her words and not accidentally slip and say that she was Lauren, but she’d managed. At least, she hoped she had. Connor’s lack of questions indicated as much.
Maybe he was too distracted with his crazy infatuation with her that he simply didn’t notice. She touched her cheek, remembering the feel of his hand on her face as he’d said goodnight, and a smile found its way to her lips.
Maybe the real reason she hadn’t sent him packing was because she’d simply liked his company. His teasing. His easy jokes, which lightened her usual no-nonsense, get-it-done-now behavior. She even liked the way her heart beat faster when he looked at her. When he touched her.
Honestly, she felt alive around him. Really alive, and her hope for a normal life came alive too. A hope she’d buried for years.
“Not good, Rebecca Ann Lange. Not good at all,” she scolded herself. “You don’t get to have that kind of life. And wishing for it will just make things worse for you.”
Shaking her head, she went to the table to pack up her files.
Diligence. That’s what she needed. A recommitment to being cautious around Connor. She’d always found staying busy to be the key to avoid these impossible emotional desires.
“That you have,” she mumbled before a yawn caught her.
She could use some sleep, but if she wanted to free up time to help Elise, she needed to head into the office now to get organized so she could assign tasks to Taylor when she arrived.
Becca shoved the reports into a folder, then took a quick shower and dressed in one of her many suits. In less than an hour, she was parking in the FBI’s secured garage. A car that Becca recognized as Nina’s sat in the space nearest the door. Odd. Nina was on vacation and shouldn’t be there. She was probably checking on one of her investigations. Agents never really turned off the job. Not even for vacations. At least Becca didn’t, but Nina was more laid-back.
Becca entered the building and went straight to the bullpen housing agent cubicles. The room was pin-drop quiet. It was a perfect time to work. She could get so much more done without interruptions and distractions.
As she approached their workstations, she heard fingernails clicking on a keyboard.
Yeah, Nina was here. She was the only one on the team with long nails that sounded like birds pecking as she typed. Ones that were usually perfectly manicured and polished in bright colors, Becca might add. She didn’t understand why anyone would waste time on a manicure. Snip and a quick file was all Becca needed. Then again, she couldn’t imagine Nina with plain nails either. They were as much a part of her personality as were her brightly colored clothes and southern accent.
Not to mention her messiness. To a casual observer of her cubicle, it would appear as if she’d been in a fight for her life, lost, and had been abducted. She’d always been messy, but now that she was engaged to Quinn, she had even less time to organize herself at work.
Becca approached. “Thought you were on vacation.”
Nina shot her head around, her hand going to her chest. She took a few deep breaths, her bright fuchsia blouse rising and falling.
“You like to have killed me,” she drawled. She worked hard to curb her deep Alabama drawl at work, but it came out in times of stress.
“Sorry.” Becca dropped into the chair at the end of the desk. “What happened to your vacation?’
“I’m about to lose my mind with all the wedding plans and couldn’t sleep. I thought a few hours of mindless paperwork might tire me out.”
“Are things not going well with the wedding plans?”
“Oh, no, no.” She waved a hand. “But you know Quinn. He’s got to have a say in everything.” She wrinkled her nose. “I figured Mr. Tough Guy wouldn’t want to participate, but he’s weighing in on everything.”
“A former SEAL . . . choosing colors and whatever else you need to decide on for a wedding? That’s got to be quite a sight.” Becca laughed, and it felt so good.
Nina smiled. “He’s really into it. Not that he’d admit it. He says it’s because his former team will be there, and he’s trying to protect his cred by keeping things from being over-the-top girly.” Nina leaned closer. “Between you and me, he really cares about the day. It makes a girl’s heart melt.” She sighed and a dreamy look claimed her face.
Nina’s peaceful and contented expression accentuated the heavy weight of sadness in Becca’s heart. It was an ache, a physical ache. She might not want marriage, but she wanted contentment. She’d longed for it, ever since her mother died. Sure, she had a difficult life with her mom, but it was her life, and she’d been fine with it. Until the accident and then Molly.
Rare tears welled up. She closed her eyes to stem the flow. She was just weepy because of what had happened with Frankie. Not to mention Van Gogh resurfacing.
“What is it, hon?” Nina asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Becca swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Puh-lease.” Nina rolled her eyes. “I may be all wrapped up in my own life right now, but I’ve never seen you cry. Ever. So, something big is going on with you, and we’re going to sit right here until you tell me about it.”
Becca had never met an agent who wasn’t tenacious, and Nina was no exception. She would keep Becca there until she gave in. So she gave Nina the sanitized version of what was going on with Van Gogh, the story she told everyone else, and then told her about Frankie’s death. “Guess it’s just too much. Both things happening at the same time, I mean.”
“Of course it is.” Nina squeezed Becca’s hand. “I’d be bawling like a baby over just one of them.”
Becca laughed. “That’s not hard to believe. You cry at sappy YouTube videos.”
She swatted a hand at Becca. “I sure hope Sulyard agrees to let you work the Van Gogh case. I know how much it means to you to find closure on Molly’s abduction.”
“It does, and that’s part of my problem. I desperately want to find Van Gogh and the person who hacked Frankie’s medical record, but I only have so much time in a day. I feel like I’m really needed on the Van Gogh investigation right now and the fact is, someone else can track down Frankie’s killer. But I don’t want to hand off Frankie’s case and disappoint Elise.”
“So instead, you came to work in the middle of the night so you could do it all.” Nina shook her head. “You can’t keep doing that, hon. You’ll burn out before you know it, and then, you won’t be able to do either.”
“I know.”
“Besides, there’s not really much you can do on Van Gogh at this point, right? At least until Sulyard tells you you’re officially on the team.”
She nodded. “Even Connor is pretty much on hold until they recover all of the bodies.”
“So for now, why don’t you work on Frankie’s death? I’m sure Connor will let you know if something changes.”
Connor. Right, the guy who was starting to worm his way into her life.
Nina sat back and appraised her. “Is that part of the problem, too? Connor, I mean.”
“So, is everything going according to plan for your big day?” Becca asked, desperate to change the subject.
Nina watched her carefully for a moment. “I’m right on schedule, thanks. Although today, I was thinking about a last-minute change in the bridesmaids’ dresses. Would you mind giving me your opinion?”
“Me? I’m the last person you want to weigh in on this.” Becca ran her hands down her suit. “You know that, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had to do a fashion intervention with my closet.”
“You are pretty hopeless.” Nina smiled, then frowned. “I really would like another opinion. Maybe I’ll still be here when Kait or Taylor come in.”
“I’d be happy to look at what you’re considering. Jus
t don’t be surprised if I give you bad advice.”
Thirty minutes later, Becca was still trying to understand the difference in the fabric trims Nina was suggesting, but she was hopeless.
Nina finally held up her hands in defeat. “You go do what you do best, and I’ll wait for Kait.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries.” Nina made a shooing motion with her hands.
“The Van Gogh thing. I need you to keep it between us for now.”
Nina mocked zipping her lips, and Becca went to her cubicle and booted up her computer to get started on Frankie’s investigation. In the next few hours, she learned that five credit cards had been opened in Frankie’s name with a post office box as the address. Buck and Elise’s credit seemed clear, but Becca printed the report to review with Elise. Further searching proved that Frankie wasn’t the only one of Elise’s foster kids whose identity had been stolen. Roxanne, Neal, and Steven had obviously been compromised, too.
Becca sent all of the reports to the printer then sat back to think. She could see that the kids’ credit had been compromised, but what, if anything, did this mean in relation to the insurance information theft? And how was this thief getting access to that information? Was one of Elise’s current foster kids involved? Or could one of Elise’s prior foster kids have stolen the info?
“Guess your comment about us needing sleep just meant me,” Taylor said from behind her.
Becca looked at the clock. Five a.m. She peered up at Taylor’s good-humored expression.
Becca smiled. “And I see you listened, too.”
Taylor chuckled. “I wanted to be here the minute you told me it was okay to take in Danny’s DNA sample. Have you called your friend?”
“Jack? No. I’m not calling him this early in the morning. Not if we want him to agree to help.”
“I take it he likes to sleep in.”
Becca shook her head. “He has a morning exercise and meditation ritual, and he gets grumpy if he’s disturbed.”
Taylor nodded at the computer. “You working on our ID theft case?”
“No, but I could use your help.” Becca gestured at her side chair and told Taylor about Frankie.
“Man, Becca.” Taylor shook her head. “I’m sorry. Real sorry.”
Nina came around the cubicle yawning. “I’m heading out, unless you need anything from me.”
“Mind giving me your thoughts on something?” Becca asked.
“Oh, hon, you know I’m always up for giving my opinion.” Nina laughed.
Becca shared the information she’d discovered on the Internet. “The kids see different doctors, so the odds of the info coming from them are highly improbable. I’m leaning toward ruling out a doctor’s office hack.”
“Makes sense.” Nina’s eyes narrowed in thought. “The home computer seems the most likely connection to me. And that means it’s someone local with a connection to Elise or even someone in the family.”
“It could just be someone trolling for unsecured networks in a neighborhood,” Taylor said.
“With all of my harping about network security, I’d hope Elise’s computer is secure, but I’ve never looked at it.” Becca drew her notepad closer to jot a note. “I’ll have an image taken of her computer and router and go from there.”
“I don’t suppose I could get in on this investigation,” Taylor said, her eyes aglow with interest.
“With everything on my plate right now, I’d appreciate the help.”
“Name it.”
“Easy, tiger.” Becca laughed. “I first need to run it by Sulyard when he comes in. If he’s on board with us taking on this part of the investigation, you can get a warrant for the PO Box and credit card statements for the bogus accounts, and get a tech out to Elise’s house to image her electronics.”
Taylor lifted her coffee cup. “Then here’s hoping Sulyard agrees.”
Nina yawned.
“Get out of here, Nina, before you make me tired.” Becca made a shooing motion with her hands.
Nina waved and set off down the hall.
“I’m really looking forward to meeting Quinn,” Taylor said after Nina had taken off.
“He’s just like you’d expect a former SEAL to be. But he has a softer side, too and a good heart.”
“So he’s the perfect man, then.” Taylor laughed.
“I’m pretty sure no such animal exists.” Becca couldn’t stop the thought of Connor popping into her head. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was the only man who’d ever made her question her life choices.
Maybe she could have more . . . if only she found the nerve to take it.
Chapter Thirteen
TAYLOR CLUTCHED Danny’s bagged soda can and stood by her car to wait for Jack’s arrival. After hearing the things Becca had said about the guy, Taylor was beginning to wonder if she was there to meet some nut job. It didn’t matter, of course. Nut job or saint, Taylor would talk to any person Becca directed her to meet, and Taylor would do it to the best of her ability.
A large black SUV pulled into the lot, and her pulse kicked up. She might just be delivering a can and waiting for results, but after going rogue and visiting Danny, she was a bit nervous about screwing up again.
The car slid into a parking spot on the far side of the lot. She resisted running over there and looking like the newbie she was. The door opened and long, jean-clad legs slid out. Hiking boots covered in a thick layer of clay hit the ground with a thud, and Jack soon stood tall next to his vehicle. She made him at well over six feet. He wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. His hair was black and cut short. With his back to her, she could see his broad shoulders narrowed to a trim waist.
He wasn’t all that different than she expected a weapons expert to look, she supposed, though her initial reaction on seeing his build was that he’d likely be as good at firing weapons as he was at studying them. He reached into the vehicle and pulled out a rifle case that he slung over his shoulder. He slammed the door and finally turned to look at her.
His eyes were as dark as his hair, and when they landed on her, they cut through her like a knife. If she hadn’t been leaning against the car, she’d have automatically taken a step back. This was a guy you didn’t mess with. As he swaggered across the lot, he ran his gaze down her body, then back up to her face. Even from a distance, she could see she didn’t measure up to the person he was expecting. He could probably tell she was a raw recruit.
She would have to work extra hard to hide her nervousness. She pushed off the car and widened her stance. She felt a bit foolish, but with his gaze still raking over her, she had to do something.
He stopped in front of her, his eyes locking on hers. She held his gaze and committed to not be the first person to look away.
“You gonna give me the soda can or not?” he asked, sounding put-out.
“You must be Jack Rains.” She held out her hand. “I’m Special Agent Taylor Andrews.”
He ignored her hand. “The can.”
She offered it to him, and he took it casually. “Tell Becca I’ll get the results to her in a few hours.” He started to leave.
“Wait a minute.” She grabbed his forearm and relieved him of the bag.
He shrugged free and glared at her.
She got the message loud and clear. Hands off. As if she wanted to touch him in the first place. Okay, fine, she wouldn’t mind it, but. . . . Focus.
“I’m going to wait with you for the results.”
“Not going to happen.”
She was starting to get mad at his he-man tactics. “Actually, it is, and nothing you can say is going to stop me.”
He watched her carefully. “Fine. You can sit in the lobby. Take it or leave it.”
She didn’t want
to compromise, but she had no choice. Not if she didn’t want to disappoint Becca. “Then lead the way.”
He started off, and she had to take long strides to keep up with him, which, at five-eight, was something she rarely had to do. But there was no way she’d let him ditch her. And she wouldn’t be hanging out waiting for the results in the lobby. She didn’t know how she would accomplish it, but she’d be sticking with Jack Rains no matter what he said.
CONNOR WENT TO THE lobby to meet Becca and bring her up to the status meeting. She was wearing another conservative navy-blue suit and her hair was pulled back with a clip. Dark circles ringed her eyes, but despite her fatigue, she was still haltingly beautiful.
She caught his gaze and offered a smile that he could see was forced when he’d expected her to be glad to see him. They had worked so well together in the wee hours of the morning. Both of them had been too tired to put up any pretense, and they made a good team, finishing each other’s thoughts and sentences at times. He’d never had that with anyone but Sam. He’d certainly never had it with a woman, and Connor wanted more. But their interaction this morning? Nah. They were back to being strangers, and that was as comfortable as a bed of nails.
He shook his head. He had to quit waffling like this and make up his mind about what he wanted. Should he decide to trust Becca, and go for it, or put it behind him once and for all?
He stepped up to her. “You doing okay today? No bad dreams after yesterday?”
She curled her fingers into a fist. “For about the thousandth time. I. Am. Fine.”
Right. He’d offended her desire not to need anyone.
“Hey.” He held up a hand. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“Wait, no. It’s me. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just . . . I don’t know . . . I’m crabby today or off my game or something.” She sighed, and he heard a world of frustration in the depths.
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