“Get that plate number!” Evan screamed. He wasn’t in a position to see it for himself.
Jody heaved a sigh; sweat popped on her forehead. “Why are you protecting me when you’re the target?”
Evan turned, sitting with his back against the tire of the car they’d used as a shield. “Because you were a sitting duck. What would you have me do? Let you get killed to prove some kind of point?”
Jody stood. “I’m supposed to be covering you.”
Evan chuckled but it lacked any humor.
“Why is that funny?”
“It’s not.” It wasn’t. How could he explain his instinct wasn’t ever for him? It was always for her. “None of this is humorous, Jo.”
“Don’t call me that.”
His pet name for her. “It slipped out. I’m sorry.” He headed for the SUV and they secured the area and escorted the men inside. The agent who was in pursuit came back with nothing. The gunman on foot got away. No one got the plates on the van.
A sniper rifle attempt in Atlanta. Sleek. Stealth. Professional.
And an AK-47 attempt now. Not thought out. More like a gang hit.
Jody ran a hand through her hair and Evan couldn’t help himself. “Are you sure you’re okay?” No, he hadn’t asked his other agents if they were, but Jody was different. He had to see her as nothing more than a colleague. But he’d never seen her as that. He’d been mesmerized by her from the first day they’d met on duty. First it was her looks that had stunned him and then her prowess and ability.
But when he’d fallen in love with her, the risks she took affected him in a profound way. He wanted to look out for his assigned person, but he found he was always watching Jody’s back, too.
She ignored him and made coffee as she talked with Mr. Wiseman. The senator sat in the hotel suite living room.
“Senator, who all knew you’d be staying at the Windermere Hotel?” Evan needed to narrow down how the shooters knew where they’d be staying.
“Just my wife and campaign manager.”
One of them might have told someone, but chances were the information came from the inside. Unbelievable.
“And, after this second attempt, Agent Novak, I agree we should cancel the remaining rallies.”
Evan would have to go back to the field office, be near a wolf in sheep’s clothing and pretend he had no clue that one of them wanted him dead.
THREE
“So, this is my place.” Evan climbed out of the SUV, Wilder and Jody with him. After the mess went down at the hotel on Monday, he’d planned to come home to Macon and back to life as usual with hopes of discovering who might have had something to do with the attacks at the convention center and the hotel. Alone. But Wilder and Jody insisted he needed backup and they were going to hole up in his house.
He wasn’t thrilled about it. Not because he didn’t find some comfort in knowing someone had his back, but having Jody under his roof indefinitely was a distraction. In part because he was still attracted to her and partly due to the fact that she was a walking billboard reminding him of who he truly was and what he’d done. It hurt too much.
He walked up the drive, used his phone and opened the garage.
“That’s nifty,” Wilder said.
Evan held up his phone. “My whole world is on this bad boy. I can adjust my thermostat, my hot tub, security cameras and the list goes on. Wrote the programs myself. So I know it’s secure.”
“When you figure out a way to program it to cook your dinner, let me know.” Wilder chuckled and looked around the garage. Jody’s face was masked in stoicism.
The house was modest in a quiet neighborhood. Three bedrooms. One bonus room upstairs. He hit a button and lights came on inside.
“Imagine someone being so lazy they can’t even flip a switch. Not judging. I like it,” Wilder said.
“I can run my sound system and TV with it, too,” Evan added.
Jody rolled her eyes. “What time do you have to be at the office this morning?”
“Nine. Anyone hungry? That breakfast biscuit we had at five isn’t sticking with me.” Evan headed into his open-style kitchen. “Bagels? Toast? Strudel?”
“Can you run the toaster with your phone?” Wilder asked.
“No. But that’s not a bad idea.” No one seemed to want breakfast. “Let me give you the layout of the place. Wilder, why don’t you take that room and Jody can have the guest room. Bathroom is on the right. My room is on the other side of the house. We can work upstairs in the bonus room.”
Jody nodded and studied the house, the mantel, the end tables. Was she looking for photos of him and another woman? She wouldn’t find any. He hadn’t dated anyone since her. He’d been concentrating on his faith and he volunteered at his church’s gymnasium; they kept it open to the public as an outreach program. He’d been mentoring a couple of younger men. And the truth was no one was Jody. But that ship had sailed, and for the better. He just needed to keep telling himself that.
“Let’s get a game plan together,” Jody said. “We’re going to spend the day going through some of your old cyber cases that Wheezer found. People like you so much they want to kill you,” she deadpanned. “Let’s see if they have connections to anyone on your task force or in the Macon field office.”
“Eloquently put, cuz.” Wilder made a sizzling noise with his tongue and turned his attention to Evan. “What are you going to do at work, Novak?”
“Work.” Evan smirked. “Briefing with my SAC and a little hacking of my own. I know it’s violating my colleagues’ privacy but when one of them may want me dead for some unknown reason, I have no choice but to snoop.”
“Wouldn’t they be using that free browser and software to email and communicate online privately? If so, you won’t find anything.” Jody toyed with the handle on her roller bag.
“True. But maybe I’ll catch something. People get sloppy when they feel comfortable.”
By 9:15 a.m., Evan sat across from Clive Bevin, the Special Agent in Charge of the field office and his friend. He gave him the rundown of the weekend and Monday’s events, leaving out once again that he was the intended target.
Clive tented his hands on the desk. Only six years older than Evan’s thirty-two, he had heavy graying and twice as many lines around his eyes. “This is why I hate officials posting their campaign rally locations on their websites. But I have one question.”
One? Evan had dozens.
“How did they know which hotel he was staying in?” Before Evan could offer up an answer, Clive continued. “Let’s compile a list of people on his end that knew where he’d be staying, and hotel staff. Get Layla on it.”
“He said he only told his wife and campaign manager.”
“Run those leads down. One of them let the cat out of the bag.” He left Clive’s office and found Layla, giving her the assignment.
He spent the rest of the morning making it through about half of his colleagues’ work emails—feeling like slime the entire time—and coordinating a sting operation for tomorrow night. Looked like the gun dealers wanted to make a sale. He took a break and went for coffee.
“Hey, man, you wanna grab some grub before B-ball tonight? Michael’s treat.” Terry Pratt, who worked on the task force with him, poured a cup of sludge. He didn’t go to Evan’s church but he and his son, Michael, played on a men’s league with him.
Evan needed to get online and do more research, but he never missed a game, so bowing out tonight might raise questions. “I’m gonna pass on dinner. Nice of him to offer. He come into a windfall? Get a raise?” Evan joked, and added more cream to his coffee.
Terry chuckled. “Hey, when your kid grows up and offers you dinner, you take him up on it. I heard about the action in Atlanta and Columbus. Glad it all shook out. Let’s hope everything does with this sting tomorrow night.”
&
nbsp; “I hear ya.” Could Evan be staring at a corrupt agent? It was hard to know when he couldn’t figure out the motive. And Terry? He was an all-around good guy.
“Hey, boss man.” Layla entered the coffee area and grinned. “You left your phone on your desk and it’s been beeping for five minutes.” She handed it to him. “Y’all playing some basketball tonight?”
“Yep.” Evan checked his phone. Several texts from Jody. One from his mom. One from Sam Bass. Another reason he needed to be at that game tonight. It had been two weeks since he’d heard from him. Sam traveled for work, but it still worried Evan, since Sam shared the same problem as Evan had once had. Drinking too much. But he’d texted to ask Evan if he’d be there tonight. He texted back and assured him that he would. “Sam’s in tonight.”
“Good. That dude’s gold at the three-pointer line.” Terry dumped his coffee in the trash. “This tastes burned.”
Layla shook her head. “I didn’t make it. Zoey did. We’ll be there tonight, too, Evan. To cheer you on.” She winked and jetted.
“Hey, wait, Layla!” He turned to Terry. “See you at the game.” He hurried down the hall. “I need a favor.”
“I’m almost done with that list you asked for earlier.”
“Oh, it’s not that. It’s something else.”
“Whatever you want.” She gave him a look that might be misconstrued as flirty, but he was almost ten years older than her. He ignored it and kept it all business.
“I need you to pull all my old case files for the past two years. Anyone not in prison, or paroled, I want them on a list. See if they’ve been out of town lately and if so, where.” The shooter could have been someone Evan once put away, but he’d have to be working with a partner on the inside for the hotel information. The senator’s campaign manager checked out. It hadn’t been him.
“Sure. Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, just keep this on the down low, would you?”
She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Agent Novak, have I ever let you down?”
“Not that I can think of.” He held up his phone. “Thanks.”
“Hey, I did that solely for me. It was driving me crazy with all the buzzing and beeping.” She saluted. “I’ll get you what I can by the end of the day.”
At the end of the day, Zoey Wyatt popped in with two manila folders. “Layla said you needed these.”
“Where is she?” Evan asked, and took the files.
“Had to leave early. Didn’t say. But she did say to tell you that’s only about three-fourths of what you asked for. Guess I’ll see you guys tonight unless you need me to do anything for you.”
Evan perused the files. “Nah. See you tonight. You know, y’all don’t have to feel obligated to come to these games.”
“We like them and it’s a great way to meet singles.” Her cheeks tinged pink and she waved. Ah, so they were using Evan and Terry to find younger men. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or offended.
When he arrived at his house, he went upstairs, where Jody and Wilder had been looking at possible threats from his old cyber cases. They seemed to have made good progress. “Anyone pop?” Evan asked.
“Plenty of people hate you.” Jody dropped a file and massaged the area between her neck and shoulder. If he didn’t know her so well, he wouldn’t have caught the teasing in her voice. But it was true. He’d shut down millions of dollars’ worth of criminal rings over the past three years.
“Thanks,” he quipped. He told them about the gun deal going on tomorrow night. Wilder wasn’t as apprehensive about it as Jody. She wasn’t keen on the idea since someone on the inside might take an opportunity to kill him. It was what it was. He had to go. He changed the subject to avoid further protesting. “I have a basketball game tonight and I can’t bail. I never miss.”
“Agency league?” Wilder asked.
“No.” He glanced at Jody. “Church. I’m part of a volunteer program. We keep the gymnasium open to the public as an outreach. We have teams for youth, college, young adults and even seniors.”
“Ah, that the team you on?” Wilder teased.
Jody didn’t respond to Wilder’s jab. The surprise that he was on a church league was still registering across her face.
Wilder cracked open a can of soda. “Sounds fun. Jody, go with him. Watch his back.”
“Why me?”
“Because it won’t look as strange having a chick in the bleachers watching him as it would a dude like me.” He gave a weak fist pump in the air. “So rah-rah-ree!”
She growled. “Fine.”
“It’s only about two hours. We can discuss the investigation on the way over.”
Hopefully, between the three of them they’d be able to piece together what was going on before another attack came. Because Evan was certain one would.
* * *
Jody’s nerves surged like live wires thanks to the cover story they’d be using at the game tonight. The best story was the one closest to the truth. They were a couple who had dated previously for a long duration and were now trying to give it another go. If anyone asked questions it wasn’t like they wouldn’t know the answers. Four years’ time garnered a heap of intimate knowledge of someone. Why hadn’t it resulted in a marriage proposal instead of a disaster? Why hadn’t Jody been enough for Evan? He’d claimed to love her—been the one to say it first six months into the relationship. Jody had been more guarded.
She’d seen too many men claim to be heroic and turn out to be monsters. She’d gone into the navy believing that all men were like the Flynn-Gallagher men. Honorable. Loyal. Protective. Soldiers should have an even higher standard of integrity. But she’d been introduced to a world where not all men were created equal when it came to those traits.
Evan had had so many wonderful qualities when she’d met him. All the qualities she’d wanted in a husband. She’d made mistakes she’d promised herself and God she wouldn’t, but where had God been when Christine needed Him? When she needed justice? When Jody was being blacklisted, demoted and reassigned to shut her up? God had abandoned Christine. And He’d abandoned Jody. Then Evan went and did it, too. He’d promised to defend her, to be there for her and tell the truth, and in the end he’d kept silent.
Now she sat on the bleachers watching a man she knew so well and yet didn’t at all. Church? He hadn’t been a Christian back then. Not that he’d been against it, just indifferent. And Jody had been so angry with God for letting her down in Afghanistan that she’d never brought it up much, and really what right did she have to? She certainly hadn’t been living the straight and narrow life—that hadn’t gotten her anything but heartache. And yet the tug and pull of the Lord to return to Him and His loving grace was always there. She simply ignored it.
Terry Pratt went in for a layup and was blocked. She’d met Evan’s colleague before the game. Old Spice and a popular floral scent from a female perfume. She’d caught it on several other women in the crowd. His son, Michael, was musk and arrogance—it gave off a clear pheromone. And a hint of secondhand cigarette smoke. The gym had her whipping out her vapor rub. Too much sweat, testosterone, rubber soles and hot dogs.
“So you’re dating the Wasp?” the redhead asked, and scooted closer to Jody. Layla. Trendy floral perfume. Grape hair product. Something with an April fresh scent. She’d met her and her friend Zoey. Both worked in the field office with Evan.
“Yeah.” This was painful.
“He’s such a catch.”
“Agreed,” Zoey said. Peach. Mexican spice...cumin...acetone from a fresh polish change. “How long have y’all been dating?”
Kill me now. “Four years when we lived in Washington. Then I moved back to Atlanta to work with my family. The distance was too much and then Evan moved to Macon. We decided to try again.”
“He’s very dedicated to his work,” Layla sa
id. “You must be proud.”
“The proudest.” Excruciating.
“He’s intense to work with,” Zoey said. “He can be intimidating.”
“I was never intimidated by him. But he is intense.” Always working harder, longer, stronger. Trying to overcome his childhood and insecurities. Jody’s words of affirmation and encouragement hadn’t been enough.
She shifted on the bleachers as he passed the ball to Michael Pratt, who passed it to Evan’s friend Sam. She’d met him briefly before the game. Sandalwood. Balsam. Garlic that hadn’t quite been masked enough by mint. Sam shot from the three-pointer line.
Swish.
Everyone jumped up cheering. The red shirts had won the game. As if Evan would ever play on a losing team. He made his way to her as she stood beside the support assistants. He ignored them and grinned at her like he used to, as if he only had eyes for her. All sweat and cinnamon. Shocking her, he bent down and kissed her on the corner of her mouth, his warm lips lingering on her skin, driving her to new levels of anxiety and longing for what could never be.
“Hang tight, Jo. I’ll go change.” She bit down on the emotion. Pretending to date didn’t give him the right to slip back into old ways. Old names. For a man who’d never loved her, he had the act down solid. Tears stung the back of her eyes.
“You better hang on to him,” Layla commented. Yeah, well, she’d been cut loose with a jagged knife long ago.
Ten minutes later, Evan returned changed and smelling like soap and deodorant. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she managed to say. Her emotions were dangerously near overload and plunged right over when his hand rested on her lower back as he guided her to the car and opened the door for her.
“I’m sorry. I felt your jaw tick when I kissed you, but I had to make it appear real.”
Jody slid into the car. Evan came around and got in, then cranked the engine.
“I won’t do it again.”
No. He wouldn’t. Did this have no effect on him? “I just want to get back to the case at hand.”
“Good game, though, right?” he asked.
Secret Service Setup Page 4
