“No kidding.”
He slammed the door in her face as she gave him another one of those sunny smiles despite the obvious pain she was in.
When he climbed behind the wheel, she was staring at him. Making him feel like a bug.
He felt like an ass, grumbling at her right now. She was hurting now; Knight wasn’t too stupid to see that. “Tighten your belt. Focus on breathing evenly. Try not to think about the pain.”
“I’m ok. It’s not the first time I’ve had cracked ribs.” She still watched him. “Didn’t know you cared so much.”
Knight just grunted and kept driving. “Infernal sunshine wears on a man, Talley. I want you ok, so we can finish this case and I can get away from all the happy sunshine that surrounds you.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” She was talking better than she was before. He didn’t think the damage was too bad, at least. But she was getting looked over and signed off on before returning to work. An image of the last agent he’d worked with who’d been injured flashed in his head.
He’d always see Ian’s blood on the sidewalk.
“You. You’re so bright, you’re practically glowing. And no one is that happy all the time. It’s just not realistic.”
“I think it is. Happiness as a state of mind can be a conscious choice.”
“For you, maybe, Sunny. But not for the rest of the world. You’re going to burn yourself out. Quick.” He’d seen young agents like her before. With their pie-in-the-sky belief that everything always worked out for the good guys. That had been an attitude that had always pissed him off.
It wasn’t realistic. Not in the world Knight inhabited, anyway.
Worse, he’d seen it get young, inexperienced agents killed. Sometimes, it got the people around them killed, too. Far fewer FBI agents had been killed while on the job than most of the public thought, but each one was one too many.
People who were as naive as she was were a danger to all around them.
“Look, Knight, I get what you’re thinking. But I’ve been on this job since before PAVAD was formed. I know how things really are. I just chose a long time ago not to let the dark things in life keep me from enjoying mine.”
“I wish I had the same—” Mindset. The same outlook on life. But then again, perhaps Miranda Talley hadn’t been tested as much as he had. Knight fingered the scar on his temple almost unconsciously. He pulled into the ER parking lot. “We’re here.”
“Great. Time to get poked and prodded. Wonder if they give out cherry lollipops. Cherry is my favorite flavor of everything.”
“Stay there; I’ll help you down.” The last thing they needed was her falling from the big truck and hurting herself any more than she already had. “Do you always antagonize people just by sight like you did Beise?”
“Not usually. Not unless the case calls for it.” She winced as she freed the safety belt. Knight opened his door and rounded the front of the truck just as she opened the door. She looked at him next to her for a long moment. Knight just stared back. “I can get myself inside, you know.”
“Shut up. I’m going to make certain you’re ok, then we’ll go back to the way things are supposed to be. Me, watching. You, doing.”
She turned in the passenger seat, then slid those miles-long legs of hers from the cab. His hands went around her waist automatically. Like they had every right to be there.
The woman made him want to curse up one side and down the other.
Something about her constant sunny disposition grated on every nerve he had, while still drawing him in like a fish on a reel. He guided her down to the ground, knowing he was being an idiot and she could probably see right through him. Still, she hadn’t pushed his hands away. And she was studying him like he was her science experiment or something.
“You going to be ok to walk?”
“I think I can manage.” She shot him another smile, a quiet, intimate one just for him. Soft and familiar, like he’d done something to please her.
He wanted to please her. No doubt he’d agree to be her lapdog far too easily. All she had to do was smile at him just like that.
“What were you going to do, carry me inside? I appreciate the gesture, but I prefer to walk in on my own two feet.” She was still gasping as she said it, her hand back on her ribs. “Pride and dignity and all that.”
Knight fought every instinct shouting at him to just scoop her up and get it done.
A wildly inappropriate response. Logically, he knew that. But it was still there. He hadn’t exactly had full control of himself for a while—not since the moment she’d first looked at him and smiled. “Sure you do. You’re just so annoyingly sunny all the time.”
“Gets on your nerves?”
“You’d get on a saint’s last nerves.”
One soft, feminine hand rose to caress his cheek faster than a butterfly wing. The touch scorched his skin.
“And you, Allan Knight, are far from a saint. I think we can both agree to that.”
It was the last thing she said to him. Instead, she walked into the ER, those long legs of her carrying her faster than she probably should have been moving, but no doubt slower than she wished. The woman took stubborn to a whole new level.
He bit back a short, harsh laugh. This woman was the last thing he needed or wanted or would ever have in his life.
If he did take the supervisory position of the cold-case division, he was going to have to make certain he stayed far, far, far away from Miranda Talley. The woman could ruin his peace of mind with just one look.
One of those damned sunny smiles.
She gave her name and showed her badge. Explained the situation and what she needed. Knight just stood behind her, hulking. Watching over her and guarding her even though that was the last thing he wanted to do.
32
Jac stared at the whiteboard for what seemed like forever after disconnecting from her call with Knight.
Lesley Beise had been found. Knight had taken Miranda to the hospital, and Sheriff Matt Karr was driving Lesley Beise to Masterson as a material witness. He’d then be transported to the nearest state facility and charged with assault. On Miranda.
His mother on Max, him on Miranda.
Jac wasn’t going to stop worrying until she saw her friend herself.
Someone crossed into her field of vision. She looked up to study the two men who’d just entered the room. Sheriff Masterson was attractive, but it was Max who would always draw Jac’s attention from clear across the room. Strong, steady, sure, and beautiful. Max really was a good man.
She missed him. He’d been her closest friend for years, other than Miranda. Even now, she wanted to go to him and just calm herself down. Deal with the stress of what had just happened. She pushed her worry for Miranda away. Her friend had been up on her feet, walking, talking—making jokes at Allan Knight’s expense. She was going to be ok.
Jac had been terrified of hospitals for years, though only Max and Miranda knew that. The fear of hospitals had never truly left her. It probably never would.
“So what do we know?” Max asked, sending her a look. A carefully blank look. Almost as if he was looking right through her again.
“Miranda is on her way to the hospital,” Jac said quietly. Both men’s attention snapped into focus. Jac held up a hand. “Lesley Beise knocked her down. Agent Knight thinks she may have some cracked ribs. They’re at an emergency facility in Evalyn, Nebraska, now. Beise is in the custody of the Della County sheriff, who is bringing him here. We need to be ready for intake.”
“And have our questions ready. What happened down there?” Max asked. The white bandage on his arm glowed against his slightly olive skin. Pauline Beise was still in Della. Her son was on his way to them. Knight had stated clearly that Miranda didn’t want them having a chance to talk to one another. Not exactly convenient, but she understood the reasoning.
Jac explained the situation as quickly as she could. “Lesley Beise is the first
of Luther and Pauline’s children we’ve been able to find. The rest of them are very well hidden. It’s strange. Families have their secrets, but most don’t just up and disappear in the middle of the night—leaving a dead body behind. Not and stay this quiet. Not even the closest, most healthy-functioning families.”
“And they don’t attack like cornered animals when threatened either,” Max said.
“Well, two of the Beises do. Knight said Miranda hadn’t even said hello to Beise before he attacked. It’s likely he recognized her and reacted.”
Jac pushed back the concern for her friend. She had a job to do. “Now we have to find out why.”
33
The Evalyn, Nebraska hospital was almost as a small as the Masterson Community Hospital started by Joel Masterson’s mother so many years ago. “I think this place is familiar. I was on the Rei case as auxiliary.”
“I’m not familiar with it.”
“You ever met Ken and Leina Chalmers?”
“Ex-NFL Chalmers? We’ve worked together a time or two.” Her Knight-in-cranky-armor was still as grumbly as ever. Miranda didn’t care—she’d use him as a distraction as long as she could.
“That’s him. Well, she is from Evalyn and had some trouble here. You may want to read PAVAD case files before you make your decision, you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Start walking. Quit stalling.”
She hated hospitals, probably just as much as Jac did. Well, ok, maybe not that much. Miranda waited in the hard plastic chair until it was her turn. The Evalyn hospital only had three exam bays, and all three were in use. “Gotcha, boss. Will do.”
“How badly are you hurting?” he asked, obviously reluctant. Ah, poor Knight. He was starting to like her maybe a little.
Miranda always had been a hopeful person.
“Badly. But, shhh, don’t tell anyone. I’ve downplayed the danger level of our job to my family.”
“It’s not as dangerous as some people believe.”
She resisted looking at the very noticeable reminder on his forehead of just how dangerous and deadly their position with PAVAD could be.
Quarter inch difference, and Knight would have died—instantly. “Still, I don’t want them to worry.”
“You’re lucky.”
“How so?”
“You have people to worry about you. Not everyone can say that.”
“Like you? People care about you.”
He shot her a cynical look. “No. Not really. My foster brothers. I have two. Two who haven’t taken off since I was injured, anyway.”
“Do you still see them?”
He shook his head. “No. Email. That’s about it.”
Sad. Just how alone he was wasn’t lost on her. Miranda bit her lip as she considered, then put out the question she had been wondering about since that first moment on the plane. “And the Brockmans? I thought you were good friends with Mal for a while.”
His expression darkened. He leaned closer. Right into her personal space. “I don’t ever talk about Brockman. Remember that.”
Miranda recoiled. Ok. So that was a definite demon riding Knight’s back, then. She’d have to keep that in mind. “Message heard. Loud and clear. Now…get out of my space, Knight. I’m allergic to your cologne or something. You’re giving me hives.”
One large hand flashed out, quick as lightning. Miranda barely resisted flinching away just in time. His fingers cupped her cheek. Scorching hot against her skin. His fingertips brushed at her cheekbone lightly. “You scraped your skin. Here. You’re not as tough, not as invincible as you think. But then again, none of us are invincible, are we? We convince ourselves we’re more important than we really are. To our job, to our family, to the people we consider friends. Yet, when it’s the darkest hour, we’re alone. Always alone. I laid there on the floor of my apartment and waited to die. Alone. No one was there to help me, Sunny. Except the man who’d almost killed me. He called 911 that day. Him. A serial killer. If he hadn’t, I’d have died. Did you know that?”
Miranda wet her lips. Then nodded. She couldn’t imagine how that must have felt. “I know. I canvassed your apartment building that day. I confirmed that he was seen on your floor. I testified in the inquiry. I was one of the first PAVAD agents on scene—I didn’t live that far away. I saw them loading you into the ambulance. I prayed for you. For one moment, when I could.”
“While I was in a damned coma.”
“Yes.” It had hurt, seeing the crime scene photos again. Knowing one of the FBI’s own had been targeted because of his friendship with another. “Do you have any friends at all now, Knight? Or have you closed yourself off from everyone who ever mattered?”
His expression darkened, and Miranda feared she’d pushed him just a little too far. His finger slipped to her lips, and he traced the top ever so gently. Gently. Like he was containing himself, keeping himself from ever doing anything to hurt her.
But she felt the threat in the movement. The threat from the hunter stalking the prey he wanted to devour. “Knight? What are you…doing?”
“The thing is, Miranda Talley, I learned something that day.”
“What…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “What was that?”
“That I have never truly mattered. Not to anyone.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Just in one brief, almost fleeting moment. When he pulled back, he had an angry look in his far too gorgeous eyes. “That is a lesson I will never forget. You…will learn that same lesson one day. Soon enough.”
She wanted to say more, but the RN at the intake desk called her name. Miranda bolted to her feet, far too fast, and stumbled toward the nearest exam bay. For the first time, Allan Knight had truly frightened her. On a deeply feminine, deeply personal level.
And she didn’t know what to do about that.
He shouldn’t have touched her. Knight had grossly miscalculated. He’d taken one look at the scrape on her cheek, barely more than road rash, no doubt from where she’d fallen to the floor and scraped against the chairs, and it had pissed him off. Combined with her words probing far deeper than they should have been able to, and he’d lost all sense of reason.
No doubt she’d report his ass to her boss first chance she got. Knight would just have to deal with the consequences.
Talk of what had happened to him, talk of Malachi Brockman, always made Knight act like an irrational asshole. Angry. Just flat out pissed at the world.
He’d already been on edge from Lesley Beise’s attack on her.
No doubt it was worse because he was attracted to her. And wanted to protect. He felt like he’d failed to do just that. And that made the animal in him furious. Snarling.
Ready to rip into the nearest threat.
He shouldn’t have taken that anger out on her. No matter how hard she’d pushed him, needled him. Made him realize that his words were the truth.
Knight had no one. Absolutely no one in this world truly gave a damn about what happened to him. Unlike her.
The world could revolve around her. Pulled to her like she was the very center of gravity.
He’d be a fool to even keep thinking that. He wasn’t ever putting his hands on that woman again.
34
Jac looked at Lesley Beise and tried to evaluate him based on all the information that they had gathered. Max was in the room, directly to her right. He’d be the one doing most of the questioning while Jac observed and took notes. This was a process they’d done thousands of times now, it seemed. It was routine; old and comfortable. Almost like it used to be.
With one difference.
This jerk had knocked Miranda into the wall and hurt her.
Lesley Beise stared at both of them, questions in his gray eyes. Jac just calmly straightened her notebook on the table. She was ready. She nodded at Max and started her recorder on her bureau-issued cell phone.
“Agent Jaclyn Jones…” she identified herself, the date, the location, the purpose of the intervie
w, and who was in the room with her for the record. And then she looked at Max. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
He nodded. “Then let’s get started.”
“What’s this about?” Lesley Beise was…bland. Oily. She had seen men like him so many times before. Even personal hygiene seemed to be an optional choice Lesley didn’t choose to make. She would never understand it. Men like Lesley were nothing at all like men like Max. Or Knight, or Clint Gunderson, or Joel Masterson, for that matter.
“First, why did you attack our agent?” Max asked in that honey-smooth voice of his.
“I didn’t like the way she looked at me. She always did that. Stupid bitch.”
“Oh?” Max asked, calmly. Max was always calm. Very rarely had she seen him lose his cool. “What about it did you not like?”
“Always acted like she knew everything. Like I was too good for her. Yet she screwed around with Levi Masterson. Stupid jerk always had everything handed to him.”
“Mr. Beise, we have some questions about Masterson County, fourteen years ago.” Max started. “Can you tell us what happened to your family that made you relocate?”
“That’s what this is about?”
“What else would it be?” Jac asked.
Jac didn’t miss the way Beise’s eyes shifted, how his breathing changed just a bit. He was about to lie to them. She knew it. “Nothing. What do you want to know?”
They weren’t there for petty crimes. But if one was found during the course of their investigation—well, Jac would use that. Period. “If you are honest with us, Lesley, it’ll be a lot easier for you. We all know how this works.”
From what she and Carrie had been able to find out about him online, he worked—a collection of dead-end, oftentimes seasonal jobs, spent his free time with friends, drinking, and spent most of his spare cash on car parts for his vintage sedan. Or his old motorcycle. His social media posts revealed that he was a bit under average in intelligence, leaned politically far left, and felt the government was out to take everything it could get from the common citizens. He’d had a multitude of failed relationships with women who showed similar characteristics. He had two children—by two different women, in two different states. Records showed he paid support on one, a four-year-old two counties south of where they were. His social media showed him with that child—about once a year.
Buried Secrets: PAVAD: FBI Case File #0005 (PAVAD: FBI Case Files) Page 13