Eleven of my coworkers, most of whom were close friends, are all dead. Their lives snuffed out like a candle. Did they hug their loved ones goodbye that morning?
Karyn had a daughter she was close with. How is she handling the loss of her mom?
“Georgia,” Nash calls my name. My head snaps up, turning his way.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?” He looks concerned.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It just all hit me when I took in their empty desks.” Reaching over, I pull the final coffee from the tray and hand it to him. “Here. It’s black like you prefer.”
He smiles. “Thank you.”
I wave my hand. “I had to get mine anyway.” It’s then that I notice Samuel Beck standing just beyond Nash. Our eyes lock and I feel a challenge in his stare. I could be imagining it after how much he annoyed me yesterday, but I don’t think I am.
“Agent Beck, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d still be here, or I’d have brought you a coffee too.”
“No worries. Call me Sam.”
“Okay.”
“But just a heads up, I’m not going anywhere.”
He’s not? I look to Nash and he shakes his head answering my silent question. “Beck’s here for the next six months, at least,” he fills me in. Oh goodie. My top teeth press into my bottom lip to keep myself from muttering ‘fuck’.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Georgia,” Sam tells me.
“Yeah. Sounds great.” My tone is flat as a pancake. I can’t muster one iota of fake enthusiasm.
He starts to pivot away but pauses, glancing back at me. “Oh, and for future reference, I like my coffee black too.” He smirks before walking away.
I wait until he’s out of sight before I turn to Nash. “Why is he staying for so long?”
“Georgia, what the hell do you think we’re supposed to do? We need bodies in here to help us. He was already scheduled to come anyway. The events of yesterday just moved up the timetable.”
I sigh and decide to drop the subject of Agent Beck. Nash obviously likes the guy and I’m not going to change his mind. “What do you need from me today?”
“Right now, you’re going to sit down with Beck and be debriefed.”
“I talked to him yesterday.”
“Georgia, you know as well as I do, that wasn’t an official debriefing.” In silent acquiescence, I grab my coffee and stand. If I’m going to talk to this asshole, I need my caffeine.
“Beck’s in the office next to mine and he’s expecting you,” Nash informs.
“Okay.”
He walks beside me until we both pause in front of the appropriate office. “Beck’s a good guy. Tell him every detail of what happened and don’t get emotional about it.” I nod and he moves on, entering his own office. I’m not one to let my emotions get the best of me, but Nash knows Karyn’s passing isn’t something I’ll get over anytime soon. She left a huge void that no one else can fill.
And Nash is also aware that Belfast has always had a strange effect on me, all the way back to our very first introduction. Before yesterday, it had been a year since I had seen Belfast, and I’d done my best to wipe him from my mind. But it’s hard to forget someone who’s saved your life, even if he’s a criminal. And a sexy, one at that.
Taking a deep breath, I rap my knuckles on the door and wait.
“Come in.”
Pushing open the door, I enter and close it behind me. Agent Beck’s eyes are on me. “Please have a seat.” He gestures to a chair in front of the desk and I lower down onto the black seat, clutching my coffee cup with both hands, like a lifeline. He sets up his phone to record our conversation, aiming the camera at me. “When did you first have knowledge of the events of yesterday?”
“I was driving back to Boston from visiting my family in Connecticut when I heard.”
“When did you arrive on scene?”
“Around one or two.”
“Did you speak to anyone?”
“Nash called me and we spoke about what happened. He said he'd be back in a few hours.”
“Did he give you any instructions?”
“Not really.”
“What does not really mean?” He arches a brow. “Did he or did he not?”
“He told me not to compromise myself.”
“Why would he feel the need to say something like that? Are you often reckless?”
“No.” I scowl. The coffee cup is warm against my palms and I take a sip. I need to stay calm and not let his questions get to me. I keep reminding myself he’s just doing his job.
“He must’ve said that for a reason, and I need to know what that reason was.” He stares pointedly at me and I try not to squirm.
“He didn’t want me to go talk to Belfast.”
“I’m assuming you mean Brennan Collins?”
“Yes, but he goes by the nickname Belfast.”
“So, you're saying you're close enough to share nicknames?” His condescending tone is annoying as fuck, but I force myself to not rise to his baiting.
“No. That’s how we all refer to him in this office.”
“Let’s get back to Nash warning you to stay away from Belfast. Did you listen?” My hands reflexively tighten on the paper cup.
“No, I did not.”
“What did you do?”
I relay every detail of what happened. How I went to the hospital and the events that ensued. Sam repeatedly stops me to ask more questions. I’m not sure he believes my recounting of the events, but I have no reason to lie.
He angles his head, studying my face. “So, would you say Belfast has a soft spot where you’re concerned?”
“I don’t think so. Would you think someone who shoved a needle in your neck had a soft spot for you? He couldn’t have known what he was shooting me up with.”
“It was Chlorpromazine. Pretty harmless aside from rendering someone unconscious. And it did say what it was on the syringe, so it’s possible he knew he wasn’t doing you any real harm.”
“I don’t see how he had time to read it before he injected me.”
“He’s a crafty one. He seems to do a lot of things that surprise a lot of people, including murdering most of the agents from this office.”
I shake my head. “That’s not Belfast’s style.”
“You presume to know that much about him?”
I lean forward in my chair. “Why would he risk his own life too? He’s not stupid. If he was responsible for this, he wouldn’t have blown up his dispensary. That place is important to him. And if he did have something to do with this, we wouldn’t even suspect it was him. If he wasn’t a pro at covering his tracks, he’d be in jail by now.”
“You seem to have a lot of information about him for someone who doesn’t know him very well.” I can hear the sarcasm and doubt in his words.
I shrug my shoulders. “Ask Nash. He’s privy to more information than I am. And I only know him from a few interactions last year.” I can’t tell him the details of those interactions, as some of it was off book and that’s the way Karyn wanted it.
“Have you heard from him since you woke up in the hospital yesterday?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. I’m not in the habit of lying, Agent Beck.”
“That’s good to hear, but I tend to form my own opinions about people, in my own time.”
Does that mean he doesn’t believe me?
I keep my face blank of emotion while I mentally flip him off. This guy’s a first-rate asshole. “You can form any opinion about me that you want to, but it doesn’t mean you’re right.” I raise my chin. “My record speaks for itself.”
“What if my gut is telling me that you’re telling the truth?” His masculine lips quirk upward on one side in a smirk. Agent Beck is an attractive asshole, I’ll give him that.
“Then your gut is spot on and you should probably start being nicer to me,” I state, and
he releases a deep chuckle. His smile is striking and I find myself thrown off balance. The straight white teeth flashing from behind his neatly trimmed light brown facial hair are at odds with his adversarial personality.
“I need more time to make sure I’m right. But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, for now.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You do have an issue with respecting your superiors, though.”
“Not usually.”
“So, it’s just me?”
“I didn’t like the way you spoke to me yesterday. And up until a minute ago, you were purposely being a jerk.”
“I was doing my job, Georgia. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get the answers I need in this situation. I think you’d agree we don’t have a minute to waste. The more time that passes, the farther away Belfast gets, and he’s our only hope of answers.”
“You’re assuming we can find him. He’s probably halfway across the country by now.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He was hurt in the blast. That alone would slow him down.”
“You’ve heard the term ‘stubborn Irish’?” Sam nods. “Belfast is the very definition of that. He’ll do whatever is necessary to escape, even if he’s dying. He’s not a quitter and he lives for the chase.”
“Is that why he’s so fond of you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Nash told me Belfast took a shining to you, but you resisted. Maybe that’s why he took the time to bundle you up in the bed when he knocked you out. That’s not how most criminals leave a scene.”
Should I tell Sam that I had… have feelings for Belfast?
No, I shouldn’t. It would be red flagged in my file, and I don’t need to compromise my job.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, studying my face carefully.
“It’s possible Belfast felt something for me. He would make comments about me being his future wife when we were working together. I ignored it and never played into his delusions.”
“You didn’t feel attracted to him at all?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
“Then how?” He tips his head, still watching me.
“He’s a good looking guy. Any woman would think so. But I can appreciate a man’s outward appearance without being attracted to them or developing feelings for them.”
“So you didn’t rush to the hospital out of any concern for Belfast?”
“No.” Who am I kidding?
“Why did you then?”
“I wanted to get answers from him. I was hoping he could tell me what happened.”
“And you thought he’d tell you the truth because he’s sweet on you?”
“No. I don’t know.” I throw my hands up. “I was devastated from finding out about Karyn. She was like a mother to me. The only thing I was thinking about was doing whatever I could to find some answers. And if that meant seeing the Devil himself, I was going to take that chance.”
“Is Belfast the Devil?”
“Some would say he is.”
“And you? What do you say he is?”
“Why does it matter what I think?"
"It matters to me," Beck pushes for an answer.
"I think you should be careful about labeling him as the Devil."
"And why is that?"
"Because, Agent Beck, people like you always seem to forget, the Devil was also once an angel. But Belfast, there’s nothing angelic about him.”
Chapter Seven
Georgia
After the debriefing with Agent Beck, I walk back to my desk on shaky legs and practically fall onto my chair. Well, that sucked. He was such an ass at first, but he did lighten up some toward the end. All the same, the jury is out on how I feel about Samuel Beck. I guess I’ll find out soon enough, because he’s not going anywhere. We’ll be working together for the foreseeable future.
“Georgia, how are you doing?” I’m so busy replaying the debriefing in my mind, I didn’t even notice Zoe approaching, or some other familiar faces filtering in. Glancing at the clock, I notice it’s almost eight o’clock. I was in with Agent Beck for longer than I realized.
“Zoe.” I jump up, relieved to see her, and give her a hug. “I’m hanging in there. How are you?”
She puts her hand on her stomach. “I’m feeling better. Food poisoning is no joke.”
“No, it’s not. But if you hadn’t been sick, you might not be standing here right now.” We both go silent at the sobering thought and glance around at the eleven vacant desks. If Zoe had been at work yesterday, we might not be having this conversation.
“I know. I never thought I’d be grateful for being sicker than a dog, but the alternative is frightening to think about.”
Nash appears. “Hey.” He smiles at Zoe, every bit of love he has for her shining in his eyes. They’ve been married for a few months now, but they do their best to keep things professional at work.
“Hi.” Zoe’s smile is just as lovesick as his before she says, “I’m going to get back to work.”
Nash watches her walk away, then turns to me. “How did the debriefing go?”
“Fine.”
“You cooperated with Beck, right?”
“Nash, when have you ever known me to not do what I’m supposed to?” He opens his mouth and I hold up my index finger to stop him from answering. “And don’t say yesterday, because if the situation were reversed and you thought you could find out information about who killed Karyn, you would've done the same thing.”
“Don’t disobey me again, Georgia. You got off light this time because of the circumstances.” I knew he wouldn’t admit I’m right.
I nod. “I’m aware of that. But I’m here now and I want to help.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to review all the footage from the hospital. I sent it to you.”
“Nash, shouldn’t I be out looking for answers?”
“You’ll be searching for answers in the footage. There has to be something useful. He didn’t just disappear from the hospital. He must’ve had help from someone.”
“Right,” I agree. “But don’t forget this is Belfast we’re talking about. He’s slippery like an eel and cunning as a fox.”
“He’s both of those things, but you’re tenacious like a pit bull hanging onto a bone.” He raps on my desk with his knuckles, letting me know he’s done with this discussion. “Let me know if there are any problems with you accessing the footage and report anything you find to me ASAP.”
“Okay.” I rub my palm over my forehead as he walks away. It’s not even nine a.m. and I already have a stress headache. Reaching in my drawer, I grab two ibuprofen and down them with a sip of my now cold coffee. I need this dull ache to go away if I’m going to be of any use looking at footage. Although, I’m skeptical that I’m going to find anything worthwhile.
Four hours later, my eyes are blurring and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve reviewed the footage. I ordered delivery and ate my lunch at my desk to avoid wasting valuable minutes we can’t afford.
Sighing with frustration, I take a sip of water and rest my head back on my chair. Closing my eyes, I call up a picture of Belfast. Why does he have to be involved in all of this? I thought I’d never see him again.
In the year since we had business with him, I’ve done well at blocking out the memory of his charming Irish accent and the cocky, crooked smile he would aim my way. His razor-sharp wit and bad boy packaging are all too tempting, but his criminal lifestyle makes him off limits.
There’s no way of taking away the illegal deeds of his past, and even if I could, he’s not the type of person who’d reform his outlaw ways. He’ll go down with this sinking ship like a good captain with his loyal band of miscreants by his side.
“Is it nap time?” My eyes snap open to find Agent Beck standing in front of my desk.
“No, I was thinking.”
“Is that like when
someone says they’re just resting their eyes?”
How much trouble would I get in if I punched his smug face?
“No, it’s not the same thing at all. I really am thinking about the case.” Belfast is a big part of the case.
“Have you had any luck with the video footage?”
“Not yet. But I’m not giving up. I know something has to be there that I’m missing.”
“Move on to another task for a while or get up and walk around for a few minutes before you give it another shot. Sometimes you need to come at it with fresh eyes.”
“You might be right,” I offer begrudgingly.
“Of course I am.” He grins. This guy runs at two speeds with me—total asshole and Mr. Nice Guy. So far, there’s no in-between. “If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask.”
“Are you offering to watch footage with me?” I snipe.
“Absolutely, if you think it would be beneficial,” he’s quick to answer, and I feel guilty for baiting him.
“No. This is on me. I was the one who was there. I’m not leaving until I find whatever it is that’s evading me.”
“Good luck.” He walks away and my eyes follow, taking in his wide shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist and lean hips. There’s no denying that he’s physically attractive from all sides. Until he opens his mouth, that is.
Why is it that I find asshole guys to be the most attractive?
What’s in my genetic makeup that draws me to the heartbreakers?
That’s a subject for another day. I need to focus on the task at hand. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Agent Beck I’m not leaving here until I find answers.
Most of the afternoon passes without any luck, but there’s something niggling the back of my brain. I just need to figure out what that could be.
Sitting up, I shake my head. The pity party is over and it’s time to find whatever it is I’m missing.
Cueing up the footage at the appropriate spot, I slip a pair of cheater glasses on. Leaning forward, I focus on the large screen in front of me. Painstakingly, my eyes glide over the moving pieces, seeking anything out of the ordinary.
EDGE OF HONOR: On The Edge Duet: Book One Page 4
