by Debra Webb
“I intend to.”
Before she could analyze the certainty in his tone, O’Brien set her aside and dashed toward the street.
“No!”
The one word she’d managed to utter echoed between the buildings as if heralding Wheeler’s arrival. She watched, the action seem to happen in slow motion, as his sedan rolled along the now deserted stretch of asphalt.
She started after O’Brien, but powerful hands grabbed and restrained her.
“Take it easy, Tapley. We’ve got the situation under control.”
She twisted around as best she could to look Lucas Camp in the eye. “Wheeler will kill him.”
Lucas smiled. “Not today.”
Her attention swung back to the street, where Wheeler was attempting to squeal away. A police cruiser skidded to a stop in the street, blocking his path. Detective Cates jumped from the passenger side and leveled a bead on Wheeler’s sedan.
Wheeler rammed into Reverse and barreled in the other direction. This time two cruisers blocked his escape route. At the same time, Simon Ruhl, Ian Michaels and Shane Allen approached from different directions, each with a weapon trained on the driver of the sedan.
Wheeler was trapped.
Angela shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“That’s the Colby Agency.”
She hadn’t realized she’d said the words aloud until Lucas responded.
But he was right.
The Colby Agency was unstoppable.
Unbelievable.
Chapter Seventeen
Angela watched through the two-way mirror in the observation booth as Kale Harkey, aka Special Agent Chet Wheeler, spilled his guts in an interview room. He had cut a deal with the district attorney to avoid the death penalty. He’d personally executed more than a dozen people in four different states. But the information he possessed was more valuable than the good feeling everyone in this booth would get from watching him take his final breath.
The identity theft operation was secondary to the mole operation he had going on. The list of corporations and research facilities he had infiltrated, including the hospital where Angela had awakened, was staggering. The look-alikes he’d ferreted out and hired had all possessed the precise skills he’d needed. Not one had known his or her fate once Harkey had finished with them. He would have a long, long time in prison to think about his many sins.
He’d admitted to using on Angela an experimental drug that corrupted memory. None of his other guinea pigs had lived long enough to evaluate the long-term effects of the drug. The dream she’d had about a man ordering her termination and a woman arguing against it had been real, to some degree. The woman, the murdered Nancy Childers in whose house Angela had lived, Harkey’s subordinate, had not wanted any part of murdering a federal agent. That hadn’t stopped this jerk from using the drugs or murdering whomever he chose.
Angela was scheduled for testing later in the week to ensure she had no permanent damage. The research facility Harkey had stolen the drug from was more than willing to conduct the testing. She was the first human test subject and they were anxious to see the results.
The director of the FBI had called to congratulate Angela. He’d even offered her a position at Quantico. She hadn’t decided just yet if she was taking it. Maybe.
“Well, Agent Tapley,” Detective Cates said as Wheeler wound up his confession, “I have to say, you nailed that bastard but good.” They had learned that Detective Lyons had planned to turn over the missing documents from his case file to O’Brien, but Harkey had gotten to him first.
Angela smiled. “Of course. That’s what special agents do.” She shook the detective’s hand.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he called after her as she left the booth.
She’d heard and seen enough. She was out of here.
The door burst open behind her before she could escape to the elevator.
“Did you really think you were going to get away without a proper goodbye?”
She hesitated before turning to face O’Brien. She’d wanted to skip this part. But that wasn’t happening now.
“Goodbyes are overrated, Doc.”
He was all spit and polished today. Back to the old Patrick O’Brien before she’d barged into his life. Navy suit with matching tie, white shirt. Very crisp. Damn handsome.
He moved in toe to toe with her. “You know, I don’t let anyone address me that way anymore.”
One corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “You’ll get over it.”
That sweet, fragile Sande Williams whom O’Brien had gotten a glimpse of had finally fully morphed back into the badass special agent she’d always been beneath that vulnerable drug-induced facade. She hoped not to ever go there again. She was no shrinking violet.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Agent.”
“I guess I’ll see you around.” She didn’t have to be back in D.C. until next week after the testing. A few days of R & R would come in handy. She was tired. Mostly she just wanted to relax and recharge. She hit the call button for the elevator.
“You headed back to D.C. right away?” he asked, before those damn elevator doors could open, letting her escape.
They hadn’t discussed her plans. Primarily because it was too hard. Yeah, yeah, it was dumb. But she’d developed some silly attachment to the Doc. She’d hoped to avoid the whole thing by slipping away unnoticed. Now that was blown all to hell.
“Not for a few days,” she admitted, her attention fixed on those unmoving doors. Hurry!
“I see.”
No he didn’t.
He would wonder why she’d opted to stay in town, but hadn’t mentioned it to him.
Damn it.
She couldn’t have him thinking there were hard feelings, or something crazy like that.
“I…” She shrugged. “I just need time to think.”
He inclined his head. “About?”
Well, hell, there was no hiding anything from this guy. “About us.” If that blasted elevator didn’t hurry up…
“Us?” He nodded. “I see.”
There he went again. “No, you don’t see.”
“Sure. I get it. You’re not interested in strings or attachments.”
Did he have a crystal ball or what?
“This has just been a little fast and awkward because of the drugs.” Okay, that was a lie. She didn’t have a lot of experience in this territory. The way she’d lied to him about the meet with Wheeler, she was actually surprised he even wanted to speak to her again. “Truth is, I don’t really do relationships.”
“I don’t, either,” he admitted. “Especially with a woman who doesn’t think twice about avoiding the truth. As you know, I have issues.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did what I had to do.”
“And so did I,” he retorted.
“So.” She shrugged. “Maybe we both learned something.”
“Maybe there’s a lot more to learn.”
She stared right into those dark eyes, bared her soul for the first time in a really, really long time. “Seriously, I don’t do very well with relationships. I’m my own woman. I’m a type A personality. I don’t like anything getting in the way of my work. I guess I’m a workaholic. I rarely sleep. I hate pets. I’m a slob. I can’t cook. Basically, I’m—”
He kissed her. Once again probably to shut her up.
But it didn’t matter. Because when their lips met the rest of the world dissolved into nothingness. He was all that mattered. Him and the way he kissed her. She couldn’t get enough. Her arms flew around his neck and she kissed him back with all she had.
She ignored the ding of the elevator arriving. Who cared? Right now all she wanted to do was kiss this man.
When she had to breathe, she pulled back just enough to catch her breath. “I love the way you kiss me.” What a lame thing to confess!
“I love kissing you,” he murmured against her lips.
He kissed her nose, her forehead, then settled
his gaze on hers. “You can’t go until we see what this thing between us is all about. This could be real.”
Real. Definitely. She smiled. “Then I guess we’re going to your place.”
Dr. Patrick O’Brien took her hand and led the way. For the first time in her life she kind of liked someone else taking charge.
She could get used to him.
Maybe she already had.
Chapter Eighteen
Victoria Colby-Camp reviewed the final reports on the Sande Williams case. She shook her head. It was such a shame that people disappeared so frequently and were never found. Their identities stolen and used until no longer needed, then discarded like so much trash.
Something had to be done to stop this travesty.
Victoria thought of her son, Jim, and how he’d been stolen away from her. Nothing the police had done—nothing she had done—had worked. The whole process had been like looking for a needle in a haystack during a windstorm. Sadly, even the Bureau’s elite units often couldn’t find the missing or stop the theft of a person’s most personal asset—his or her identity. Too much red tape. Too many rules and regulations.
The Colby Agency needed to do its part and more.
The thought of one of her beloved grandchildren going missing was more than Victoria could bear.
She had to take steps to ensure the Colby name continued to be synonymous with premier private investigations.
Inspiration sent a smile sliding across her lips. Oh, yes. There was more she could do. A lot more.
Victoria buzzed Mildred and requested that Ian and Simon join her. The answer was so simple, Victoria couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered it before. The Colby Agency would institute a new department. A reconnaissance group focused exclusively on finding the lost.
When her top staff members had joined her, Victoria announced her plan.
“Excellent idea,” Simon declared. “This would take our retrieval efforts to the next level.”
“Agreed,” Ian seconded. “We should consider bringing Angela Tapley on board for this group. She would be a great asset.”
“That’s a marvelous suggestion.” Victoria was extremely pleased. She had always prided herself on doing all she could to help parents find their missing children. But this could go a step beyond even that.
Whoever was missing, wherever they were last seen, the Colby Agency would find them and bring them home. No matter how long it took. Unlike the cases the police often had to set aside, the Colby Agency would never give up.
“This,” Simon commented, “is the kind of effort that keeps the Colby Agency one step ahead of the rest.”
That was Victoria’s single goal when it came to the agency. To ensure that it was the best in the business. Her goal could only be accomplished one way: never stop evolving and growing. It was absolutely essential in order to keep up with the changing world.
She turned to the window and looked out over the city she loved.
This latest case had been particularly hard. The Colby Agency had lost one of its own. As painful as that reality was, Victoria refused to be defeated. She would keep moving forward.
This was yet another new beginning.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1946-9
IDENTITY UNKNOWN
Copyright © 2008 by Debra Webb
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