by Karen Fenech
She flipped the mirror back up and closed her eyes, working to get herself together. In the past year, she’d learned to disguise herself on demand, to conceal what she was thinking and feeling. She called upon those skills now. When she had her emotions in check, she left the car.
The lobby was decorated in grays and blues. Paige was met by a woman who looked to be in her early sixties and who glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. Paige resisted the urge to check her own watch. She knew she wasn’t late.
The woman was small at under five feet. Though she had to tilt her head back a full six inches to look Paige in the eye, she still managed to look down her nose at Paige.
“You must be Agent Carson.”
The woman stood waiting for Paige to reply. She had a bearing that shouted military and wore an impeccably tailored three-piece suit like a general’s uniform. She looked like she could wait the rest of the day for Paige to respond but challenged Paige to put that to the test. Paige imagined soldiers quaking in her presence.
When Paige realized the woman wasn’t going to smile or offer her hand to shake, she responded with a simple yes.
“I’m Marian Hendershot,” the woman said. “You may call me Mrs. Hendershot. Special Agent in Charge McKade is expecting you. I’ll escort you to him.”
Mrs. Hendershot led the way down a long corridor. The squad room was painted in the same blues and grays as the outer office, and there were several desks, only one of which was occupied. A man in a shirt and tie, with his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, spoke in low tones on the phone.
On the opposite side of the squad room was a conference room. As Mrs. Hendershot came to a stop outside an office, Paige noted a thick door at the end of the hall that acted as a barrier between the squad room and the lobby. That door would lead to the interrogation rooms, and beyond Interrogation were the holding cells.
The office door was open, but Mrs. Hendershot knocked, then remained in the hall until the man seated behind the desk glanced up. Paige noticed he was handsome, with features that were ruggedly male. Dark hair he kept short. A square jaw. Though her assessment of him went no further than simple observation.
“Sir, Agent Carson is here,” Mrs. Hendershot said.
The man rose to his feet. “Agent Carson. Paige.” He extended his hand. “I’m Sam McKade.”
He was a few inches over six feet and wore a charcoal suit that outlined a tough, hard body that showed he hadn’t spent his career behind a desk.
Paige tilted her head back to meet his eyes. He had a penetrating gaze that made her feel as if he could see inside her. She didn’t care for the thought, with what she was hiding about her reasons for the transfer. She put her hand in his. It engulfed hers. “Sir.”
“Sam is fine.” He looked to Mrs. Hendershot. “Thank you, Marian.”
Mrs. Hendershot gave a brisk nod, then closed the door behind her. Sam indicated the two chairs in front of his desk, and Paige lowered herself into one of them. Stacks of papers and a legal pad sat on his desk. Was her personnel file in one of those stacks? Paige told herself it didn’t matter if it was. Sam McKade had already seen it, or she wouldn’t be here. She comforted herself with the knowledge that this wasn’t an interview for the field post. She already had the position. Still, perspiration gathered on the back of her neck.
Sam reclaimed his seat. “When did you arrive in Kirk?”
Paige sat stiffly against the chair back. “Last week.”
“How are you settling in?”
“It’s been fine. Thank you.”
He nodded. “I understand that you spent most of your time in Denver behind a desk.”
“Yes.”
“That won’t always be the case here. Though we’re a small office, we cover a large district made up of several counties. You’ll be on assignment and in the field. How do you feel about that?”
“I realize that my duties here are going to be different than they were in Denver. I’m fine with it.”
His gaze on her grew more intent. “I’m curious as to why you chose to transfer to this office. We’re in a remote location, and this is not a prestigious appointment.”
In the large Denver office, there had been ample opportunity for advancement if she’d wanted to get ahead. It seemed a lifetime had passed since that was the case. Advancing her career no longer drove her. Paige linked her fingers in her lap, forcing herself to keep her grip loose. “I’ve lived in large cities all of my life. I welcome the chance to live in a less populated area. As to this not being a prestigious appointment, all I’m interested in is doing my job and doing it well.”
He held her gaze, then asked bluntly, “What happened in New York?”
Paige stiffened. “You have the report.”
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
She would have preferred never to speak of that day again. Hoped that, professionally, at least, Thames would no longer be a factor in her career, as he was in her life. Foolish hope. Not enough time had passed for that black mark on her record to be removed. Once more, then.
The memory of that day had Paige’s stomach clenching and her nerves vibrating. Fighting back anxiety, she gave Sam a succinct accounting of the events of that day on the mountain, ending with, “I was searching for Mr. Thames when he found me. My squad arrived shortly after that.”
Sam drew out a silence, taking his time before speaking again. His expression gave nothing away, and Paige’s anxiety level climbed another notch.
Finally, he asked, “Where do you see yourself in three years?”
Paige swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I’d like to be here.” She was speaking the truth and hoped Sam could see that.
“This position has been open for some time,” Sam said.
That had been a crucial factor for her. She could begin this posting immediately without needing to wait out another agent’s weeks of notice.
“For the reasons I’ve already stated,” Sam continued, “we don’t have agents flocking to transfer here. If you decide Kirk and this office aren’t to your liking, it would be difficult for me to replace you.”
She could understand his reasoning. With two transfers in such a short time, his concern that she would move on again at the drop of a hat was valid. He needed people he could count on. “I hope to make Kirk County my permanent home.”
The words rang true because they were true, and she could see that Sam believed her.
“I’ll introduce you to the agents you’ll be working with.” Sam rose to his feet.
For a time, Paige had wondered if Sam was regretting his decision to bring her into his office. Had feared he was going to tell her that it wasn’t going to work out after all. But he hadn’t. Willing her locked legs to unlock, she rose to her feet as well. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam introduced Paige to Harry Platt, the agent she’d spotted on the phone earlier. Harry was staring at his laptop and got to his feet when Sam and Paige stopped at his desk. He held out a hand to Paige, and when she reached out to shake it, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“My fair lady,” he said with a wide smile and a deep bow.
Harry was an attractive man. Tall, tanned, and toned. He wore his hair longer than the Bureau’s regulation length, and Paige could see why he was reluctant to cut his thick blond waves.
“Okay, Romeo. We don’t want to scare her off on her first day.” Sam spoke the words without any heat, then turned to Paige. “Harry missed his calling in Hollywood.”
Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “But you can catch me in a theater production this summer at the Kirk Playhouse. We’re doing Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.”
Harry’s humor loosened some of the tension in Paige’s stomach. She returned his smile. “I’ll have to see about getting tickets for that.”
“You do—” Harry’s computer beeped. His gaze shot to the screen. Just that fast, he became all business. “Sam,” Harry said.
But Sam was already on the move, circling the desk to see the laptop screen as well. “That it?”
Harry pressed a few keys. “Yeah. We got him. DeLuca!” Harry called out. “Let’s roll!”
A large man built like a brick came out from a back room holding a mug of coffee. He plopped it on a desk that bore a framed photo of a smiling, very pregnant woman with a long, dark braid over one shoulder. The woman held the pudgy hands of a small boy, maybe five years old, and a girl who looked slightly younger. With their thick, curly hair and puppy-dog eyes, the children bore a strong resemblance to the man named DeLuca.
DeLuca grabbed the suit jacket off the back of Harry’s chair. He tossed it to Harry with one hand and reached out to Paige with the other. The thick gold wedding band he wore caught the light overhead. “Sam told us you’d be joining us. I’m Dominic. Dom. Welcome.”
“Thank you,” Paige said.
Paige had barely grasped Dom’s hand before he released his grip and turned to Harry. “We’re burning daylight, man.”
Dom set a brisk pace, and Harry fell into step beside him.
Sam said to Paige, “The man they’re bringing in has been luring kids into an online chat room, and from there to meetings in person.” Sam’s eyes darkened with anger. “He’s about to find out the nine-year-old boy he thinks he’s meeting is really Harry and Dom.”
Thinking of the young children who had fallen prey to this man sickened Paige. She was glad to know that this predator would soon be in custody.
Sam showed Paige to a desk. “This one’s yours. Marian is pulling some files on our current cases that I’d like you to familiarize yourself with. I’ll be going over them with you once you’ve had a chance to read them.”
As if on cue, Mrs. Hendershot marched into the room, bearing several file folders, a laptop, and a memory card.
“We work as a squad, but we also work in pairs,” Sam said. “You’ll be working with me. Anything you need to ask me now?”
Was it Sam’s usual practice to partner with new agents, or did he have doubts about her? Paige fought back that concern. If he thought that now, he wouldn’t for much longer. She wasn’t the same agent she’d been in New York, and Sam would soon see that. “No questions.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said.
As Sam returned to his office, Mrs. Hendershot deposited the folders, card, and laptop on the desk, then resumed her rigid posture and folded her arms across her chest. “This weekend, the office is participating in an annual fund-raising event for the Kirk County General Hospital. The event is a family day held at Kirk County Park, and we sponsor a barbecue. Each of our agents is scheduled to perform a function. Given that you’ll be partnered with Special Agent in Charge McKade, I’ve scheduled you during his time slot this Saturday, working the grills from noon to three. I need to confirm that you will be available at that time.”
“Noon to three will be fine.”
“I will see that you receive directions to Kirk County Park.”
Mrs. Hendershot stepped away, her heels moving soundlessly over the tile. Paige reached for the laptop. While she waited for it to boot, she opened the first folder.
Back in his office, Sam watched Paige through the large window that overlooked the squad room. She was going over the information Marian had given her. When he’d accepted her transfer, he’d considered if he’d let his long-standing need for an additional agent lead to an error in judgment in bringing her here. The last thing he wanted was an attention seeker who would jeopardize the lives of his people and his own life.
But he hadn’t seen an attention seeker today. Paige Carson wasn’t what he’d expected at all. Young, he’d known that from her file. She was twenty-nine. Pretty. Yeah, she was that, too. Her photograph hadn’t captured just how pretty, with her big doe eyes and wide, sensual mouth. But the woman in the file was nothing like the one he’d just met. The woman he’d just met came across as reserved and . . . wary.
No doubt that fuckup in New York had affected her. Her formal reprimand was noted in her file and would have made squad leaders reluctant to take her on. Her supervisor in New York may have passed her on to Denver. In her record, it read that she’d asked for the transfer. True? Or had she been shoved out of the New York office? Had New York strongly suggested that she’d be happier elsewhere? Once she hit Denver, she would have likely found the shit had just followed her there. The Bureau had a long memory, and that incident in the Adirondacks was going to stay with her for some time to come.
It would have been easier for her if she’d taken a position where she wouldn’t need to work with a squad. She had degrees in criminal science and in language studies. She spoke several languages, including Russian, Spanish, Pashto, and Urdu, and could have worked as a translator. With those skills and working that job, one of the large central offices, like LA or DC, may have overlooked her record and taken her on. Sam hadn’t bought her comment about no longer wanting to live in a city. And failing a translator job with the Bureau, she could have ventured into the private sector. Her choices didn’t make sense, including the one to come here. More bad judgment? Could be. If so, this career decision wouldn’t affect anyone but herself. It wasn’t his business unless it had to be. Still, the lack of logic bothered Sam and made him want to ask her about it.
Paige spent the rest of the week working her way through the information Mrs. Hendershot had given her, and then with Sam, who went over the finer points. Sam was preparing for a case that was going to trial, which explained the mountains of paper she’d seen on his desk at their first meeting.
But the bulk of her time was spent out of the office, as Sam had mentioned. Among other cases, he was overseeing an investigation into drug trafficking in Kirk County. He was coordinating with other state agencies, and he’d taken her with him to a series of meetings. She and Sam were driving back to the office now from a meeting at the central office in Columbia.
On the interstate, traffic whooshed by. From Sam’s truck, Paige could see the cars below in a blur. Sam took an exit in Kirk County, and shortly after, the contrast between big city and rural county struck her. They drove past miles of open land before coming across another vehicle. It was longer still until they reached a populated area.
As with everywhere, there were the affluent, the middle class, and the poor. Paige had glimpsed pockets of all three as they’d left Kirk and now again, as they returned.
At this moment, they were passing a creek. Two elderly men sat beneath the shade of a live oak, dangling fishing poles in the murky water. Taking in the scene, it was hard for Paige to envision crime of any kind in this idyllic setting.
“The traffickers have been crossing state lines, and so far we haven’t been able to stop them. We’ll make sure they don’t get away this time,” Sam said.
Paige wondered if Sam could have been thinking the same thing she was. She could all but feel his anger and frustration that the drug problem in the county, and in the country as a whole, was growing despite efforts to combat it.
“I was just thinking how this looks like the last place there should be any crime.” Paige shook her head. “A naïve statement, I realize.”
Sam’s lips thinned. “Drugs aren’t just a big-city crime.”
No, drug trafficking had made its way into small-town America as well. Sam’s anger about that, and his determination to apprehend these traffickers, was genuine. From observing him in meetings and judging by his interactions with state and county officials and politicians, Paige believed if anyone could stop drug trafficking in their area, it would be Sam. In just five days, she’d seen for herself that he was a natural leader and had a self-assuredness Paige respected. She would have liked to know more about her boss, but she didn’t want to invite questions about herself, and she held back her interest.
On Main Street, Sam slowed to the speed limit. “Looks like people are knocking off early for the weekend.”
Paige turned her head in the dire
ction he indicated. It was late afternoon. A man placed a bicycle in a rack in front of a diner, then made his way inside. A couple of people had taken refuge from the sun beneath the awning of that same diner and stood speaking on cell phones. Farther down the same road, women pushed children in strollers, some stopping to browse the racks and bins on the sidewalk in front of several shops. Main Street vendors were having a sidewalk sale.
“Looks like it,” Paige said.
Sam left Main behind and drove to the Bureau office, pulling into the parking lot a short time later.
“Nunez and Wingate are back,” Sam said. “That pickup and sedan belong to them.”
Paige had heard that there were two more agents in the office, but this was the first time all week they would all be in the same place at the same time.
Sam parked, then waited for her to lead the way. A soft breeze kicked up, and the pink, purple, and red flowers that grew along the walkway of the Bureau building swayed.
Inside, Mrs. Hendershot looked up from her desk and said to Sam, “I placed your messages on your desk, sir, and Agents Nunez and Wingate are in the break room.”
“Thank you, Marian,” Sam said. He looked to Paige. “I’ll introduce you.”
Paige followed him. Mrs. Hendershot made sure there was always fresh coffee brewing. Sam went to the gray speckled counter in the break room and held up the pot. At Paige’s nod, Sam poured the coffee into a large paper cup. He liberally added both cream and sugar, then handed the cup to Paige. He and Paige had shared a few meals this week, and Sam no longer needed to ask how she took her coffee.
The TV was on, tuned to a national news station. There were two men standing in front of it.
Sam set down the cup he’d poured for himself, then called out, “Mike. Riley.” When the men joined them, Sam said, “Mike Nunez. Riley Wingate. This is Paige Carson.”
