Defense Breach

by Lisa Phillips

  Stringer smiled again.

  “You’re a very smiley person.”

  He chuckled then. “I’m what?”

  “Happy. Though, it seems like it’s mostly at my expense.”

  He glanced at Grady. “Not all you. And not because you got hurt.”

  “Then, why the humor?” She leaned against the wall. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Stringer shrugged. “No problem. It’s just great to finally meet the woman who can give Grady’s iron-fisted self-control enough challenge to shake it.”

  Skylar stared at him while her brain exploded with questions. She didn’t even know which to ask first.

  Stringer only laughed. “Maybe you’ve met your match as well.” He paused. “Sorry. You’re hurt, and your head probably doesn’t need this. But I have to say, I’m happy for you guys. Things have been crazy since the exercise, and the job isn’t even over yet. I can’t believe all you’ve both been through. But I just think maybe it’s also been good. For both of you.”

  “Is that supposed to be a riddle? Because it really sounded like one.”

  Stringer’s laugh echoed down the hall as he strode back toward Grady. She didn’t know what on earth was so funny, but whatever. Let the man have his private joke. She wasn’t going to care when her head hurt this much. Grady didn’t seem all that impressed by the laughter either, given the look on his face.

  A look he sent her way as well.

  Did he not like the fact that she’d figured out how to get the jump on Daniel? He couldn’t really be jealous she’d thought of it first, could he? That was way more of a petty idea than she’d figured he would have. Which just proved to her how much about him she still didn’t know. They’d only met yesterday, even though a month’s worth of excitement had happened since then. Most of it had been full of danger and stress. Not a steady basis for a relationship. Friends or otherwise.

  Skylar looked away to stare at her feet. Grady could think what he wanted. She’d done her job, and she was proud of it.

  *

  It didn’t matter how many times Stringer motioned toward Skylar, Grady wasn’t going to go over there. What were they, twelve? This wasn’t the lunchroom in junior high. Grady was a grown man who didn’t need encouragement to go talk to a girl. Not when Skylar was a woman he wasn’t going to play games with. She deserved better.

  It didn’t matter how he felt about her—or how that feeling had grown exponentially all day. He’d hardly been able to speak, knowing she was behind him. Feeling the heat of her there, in the tunnel. Knowing she could have been killed. So easily.

  Or moment minutes before then, when everything had gone dark and the gunshot rang out. He’d nearly had a heart attack, not knowing if she was dead or alive.

  The whole thing made him cognizant of the fact that he might just be more into her than he’d thought. What was it about Skylar that made him feel like he’d come alive? Her determination alone scared him more than he’d thought possible. And amazed him.

  He’d worked with female agents before, so he knew it wasn’t just the fact that she was a woman. It was the fact that it was this woman. Skylar.

  Grady pushed off the wall beside where Daniel sat in a folding chair someone had found. He rounded on the man, determined to get some answers. “Making fakes. All these years.”

  Daniel didn’t look at him.

  “But I don’t think you did it alone, did you? Who were your partners?”

  Something flickered in the older man’s jaw.

  Grady pulled up a picture on his phone, one from when they’d reinstated White House surveillance at the end of the exercise. He turned the screen so Daniel could see an image of Barnes. Then Wilson. “Know either of these men?”

  Daniel looked at it. His eyes flickered to the side. “No.”

  It wasn’t enough for Grady to state conclusively if the man was lying or not. But he didn’t react strongly enough to be working with either of the two men. So either he didn’t know them, or he did but it was amicable. Which meant he was probably covering for them—keeping their secret.

  “This is about national security.”

  “That’s what you guys always say.” Daniel smirked. “National security.”

  “It is. Because an agent you might know, Peter Barnes, killed the other, Wilson, yesterday. And he escaped custody this morning. I think you know him. And you know what? If he was your partner, you think he’s going to let you live when you could ID him?”

  “I want protection.”

  “So he is part of this fakes ring.”

  It didn’t explain why Wilson had been sold out with a faked item to steal, probably figuring he’d get caught in the process. But it did open up a little more of this so that it might start to make sense.

  “Did you help him escape custody?”

  “No information unless I get protection.”

  “We’ll keep you safe so you can stand trial. Don’t worry about that.” Grady folded his arms. “What I want is what you know about Barnes.”

  “I want a deal.”

  “Talk to the DA about deals. I just want Barnes.”

  “You aren’t going to arrest me?”

  Grady shook his head. But that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t. The man had held Skylar captive and almost killed her.

  Daniel said, “I have proof of everyone involved. All the players. Names. Information. Bank account numbers.”

  “Where?”

  “In a logbook.”

  “Where?” He barked the word. Had he stayed silent, the man could have cost them their shot at evidence. Details of all Barnes had done, just because Daniel didn’t want to go to jail for what he’d done.

  “Okay, fine. It’s at my house, with a brown leather cover.”

  “And if we tear your house apart looking for the logbook?”

  Daniel gasped. “You can’t do that!”

  “It’s national security. Remember? We can do a lot of things.”

  The man blustered. Grady figured the logbook was at his house—probably hidden away. He glanced at Stringer. “Get me Mr. Painter’s address.”

  Stringer nodded. “Already on it.”

  He looked back at Daniel. “We will find it, and you’ll go to jail for attempted murder and forgery.”

  Daniel blustered.

  “If you tell me where the logbook is, I’ll square things away. Make sure you only answer to what we can prove.” He paused. “But send me on a wild-goose chase, and it won’t be good for you. Not after you held Skylar at gunpoint.”

  Grady pulled back, realizing how loud his voice had gotten. Yes, she’d been in mortal danger. Did he have to shout about it? No. Because now everyone in this hallway knew he cared.

  Grady said more quietly, “Think about it.” Then turned to look down the hall, where a crowd of Smithsonian employees had gathered. He scanned each of the faces, wondering if one of them knew Daniel Painter had been making forgeries for years—taking artifacts worth millions of dollars and selling them on the side. Someone had to have noticed something.

  At the back was a familiar face, a man he’d seen several times. And not just when Niles had saved them from being shot by Johnson.

  “Hey!” The word exploded from Grady’s mouth as he trotted down the hall.

  Niles blanched. He backed up, turned and strode away down the hall. Thirty people minimum stood between them. Grady turned to the nearest agent, one on crowd control. “Find that guy. Don’t let him leave the facility before I talk to him.”

  The agent jumped into action, and Grady turned back. Daniel Painter was on his feet now, his face close to Skylar’s.

  Stringer was there as well, which was the only reason Grady didn’t shout and race back down the hall. “Back up.” He dragged Daniel away from Skylar.

  “Back. Up.” The words were short, but she needed to know he was serious. What was she thinking, letting Daniel get in her face?

  Their eyes met for a second, and he saw a meas
ure of hurt there. Grady ignored it, despite the pang in him. Her safety was more important than her feelings—and he needed to keep reminding himself of that or he was going to end up hesitating. Sparing her feelings but opening a window where she could get physically hurt.

  Or…more physically hurt than she’d gotten so far today.

  Stringer settled Daniel back in the chair and turned to Grady. “I got a call from Intelligence. They looked deep into Barnes and found he’s swimming in money he didn’t earn as an agent.”

  Grady felt his eyebrows rise. “You think he’s been making fakes and selling them?”

  “Trafficking in artifacts from the White House. Could be big black-market business.”

  Grady blew out a breath. “What about the curator? She had no idea, but how is that even possible?”

  “You think she’s involved?” Skylar asked.

  Grady shrugged. “The alternative is that she’s kind of incompetent.”

  Stringer’s phone rang. He talked for a second, then said, “Thanks,” and hung up. “Barnes was spotted down in Crystal City. I gotta go.”

  Grady nodded.

  “Also the warrant came in. You’re clear to search Daniel’s house.”

  Skylar glanced between them.

  “Let’s go.”

  She hadn’t moved.

  “Are you coming?”

  She tipped her head to the side, the question on her face. “I don’t know. Am I?”

  Grady wasn’t in the mood for riddles. Didn’t she know he wanted her right beside him so he could make sure she came through this in once piece?

  “Let’s go, Austin.” He started down the hall without looking back to see if she followed. “We have work to do.”

  Seconds later, he heard her footsteps. Grady smiled.

  SEVENTEEN

  Skylar followed Grady up the front walk of Daniel Painter’s house. Stringer had left with the rest of the agents, all out on the hunt for Agent Barnes in Crystal City. The lead was supposed to be solid, and Grady hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea they might not catch him. As far as he was concerned the whole thing was a done deal.

  Skylar was going to hold her feelings in reserve until they actually captured him. At least the pursuit was all the way to the south, across the river. Miles from here. Skylar shivered, glad the cops had sent officers to the house already.

  Grady glanced at her. “You okay?”

  Like she was going to admit she couldn’t handle this? “Fine.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. Maybe that was an amateur move, but she wasn’t officially a Secret Service agent. Yet. “Ready?”

  Flipping it back on him reinforced to Grady the fact that he was in control. She didn’t have much say here, in his world, but she wanted to see this through to the end. What she didn’t want to do was sit at home and hear about it all later.

  She’d be scared out of her mind at home. Besides, if anything happened here, she would be standing next to Grady when it did. Who better to protect her than someone trained to give his life for the president?

  A local police officer stood at the open front door with his partner.

  Grady said, “Did you go inside?”

  The older officer said, “All clear. We had fun kicking the door in.” He grinned.

  Skylar’s head was still pounding, despite the painkillers. She touched her fingers to her forehead.

  Whatever was on her face stopped him, and his eyes softened. “Skylar.”

  “I don’t…” She didn’t even know what to say. Cutting off her words was better than suddenly admitting she didn’t want him to die. He would think she was a clingy weirdo.

  Grady sighed and pulled her into his arms. Her face smushed against all the paraphernalia on his vest. Not super comfortable, but she wound her arms around him and just held her breath. Felt what it was like to be in the embrace of a man who cared. One who had, time and again in the last two days, fought like she was important to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He leaned back. “You’re welcome.” Those brown eyes were warm again. “Sorry I was short earlier. I just don’t like when bullets start flying.”

  “Isn’t that your whole life?”

  He grinned. Leaned closer. “I meant at you. And I’m sorry you got even more banged up.”

  Skylar could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Was he going to—

  Grady’s lips brushed against hers. Just a whisper, but it spoke louder in her life than any other gesture—no matter how big.

  She waited for him to go for more, determined not to overthink this. Just a nice interlude in an otherwise stress-filled day. Why would she object? He was a good man.

  But Grady stiffened.

  Did he regret—

  He let go of her and spun in one movement, strode across the lobby toward what looked like a living area.

  “What is it?”

  He glanced at her and placed one finger over his lips. Skylar closed her mouth. The softness was gone now, replaced with a professional determination. So much for their nice interlude. Probably better this way. She’d have read more into it than he meant, and then her heart would be crushed to powder—nothing left of those broken pieces—when he explained how he really felt about her.

  She followed him to the edge of the living room, where the hall tiles met wood flooring. Then she heard what he had. A rustling.

  She surveyed the couches, the TV unit packed with DVDs of black-and-white movies. A lamp, its twin on the other side of the room. In the corner, disguised as an end table, was a dog crate.

  “Puppies,” she told Grady. “Daniel Painter has dogs.” The crate was open, but the dogs weren’t running around the house. Where were they? “That’s probably what you heard.”

  Grady stepped back and looked into the hall, up the stairs. “Maybe. The officers should have given us a heads up. Stay behind me.”

  Skylar wasn’t going to argue with that. Stringer had given her a gun, just in case, but she prayed she wouldn’t have to fire it. The dogs had been secured in the kitchen with a tall baby gate. Skylar watched while one barked at the intruders, and the other raced outside through a dog door. She kept pace with him as he checked each room.

  “We should look for the logbook.”

  Grady nodded. “I saw an office back there.” He motioned down the hall to an open door. Inside were walls of bookshelves.

  “These all look expensive.” She winced. “I’d be scared to read them just in case I folded the corner of a page down because I misplaced my bookmark.” She’d referred to it as a quitter strip more than once before. “I much prefer a good secondhand bookstore. Worn books that have been devoured over and over again. That’s real life.”

  “Worn pages?”

  “We all have them, don’t we?” She motioned to the walls of books. “Being…preserved like that? It’s not natural.”

  The corners of Grady’s mouth curled up. “Maybe you could help me look for a safe among the shelves.”

  “I really hope it’s in a safe.” She didn’t want to know how long it would take to check each one of these pricey books for the logbook that would be the evidence they needed to get Barnes. “Although hiding it in plain sight would be a genius idea.”

  “I’ll check the books,” Grady said. “You look beyond the obvious for something hidden.”

  “Deal.” She grinned at him. Had they really kissed only minutes ago? Who knew whether the logbook was even hidden here? When he’d finally opened up about it, Daniel Painter hadn’t given them much to go on past the fact that it had a brown leather cover.

  Skylar was glad she had the book to focus on. Being with Grady was distraction enough.

  *

  Among other things, Grady tried to factor in Daniel’s height. He’d want the book within reach, but not anywhere obvious like eye-level. In the end, he sighed. “Maybe it’s not even in here.”

  “I’m beginning to think it isn’t in here. Maybe he hid it under his mattress…or i
n his underwear drawer or something.” Her nose wrinkled at that. It was very cute.

  But Grady couldn’t dwell on that. On her. Otherwise they’d be right back with her in his arms, their lips meeting ever so gently. Not even a real kiss before the dogs had disturbed them. Sweetest almost kiss of his life.

  Too bad he had a job to do, and that wasn’t part of it.

  “Here.”

  He rounded the desk to where she’d crouched behind it, in front of a low cupboard. With a safe inside.

  “It’s open.” She swung the door to the safe wide. “Nothing but papers.” She lifted out a couple of small boxes. “Jewelry.”

  “Valuables, but nothing he couldn’t handle losing if they were stolen.”

  Skylar spun, staying crouched before the safe. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I watch way too many old detective movies. It’s making me crazy, like there’s a backup safe somewhere in here.”

  “Two safes?”

  “One easy to find, some valuables inside. But nothing too precious. Like a decoy. The second contains the real prize.”

  She straightened. “That’s not a bad idea.” Skylar circled the room, pulling pictures from their hooks.

  Grady moved to the books, checking randomly across shelves to find a hidden compartment. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on.”

  “I’m not finding anything on the walls.”

  He wanted to give up. Maybe this wasn’t even the right room. But why hide a book anywhere else than as a needle among a stack of other needles? Only Daniel would know which book it—

  He tugged on one of the books. “What…” Grady’s voice trailed off. He checked the books beside it on a low shelf, one up from the bottom in the far corner of the study. “Look at this. The whole row is stuck in.”

  He reached for the outermost books on the shelf and tried to pry his fingers into the space between the books and the wooden sides of the shelf. The left edge had no gap, but on the right side he could get his fingertips in there.

  He pulled. Did it again with both hands. “Stuck.”

  “Try pushing it.” Skylar crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder.