Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 1 of 2

by Julie Anne Lindsey, Lena Diaz

  “Impressive feats of bravery aside,” she said, tilting her head slightly over one shoulder. “You were the one who requested we pursue this case. Allie and Max Jr. are here now. And I know that’s on your mind, as well. Which means you’re under a lot of pressure all around. Not to mention, as the TCD explosives expert, you’ve been taking lead on this. So let me ask again. All pretenses aside, and please be frank. We’ve known one another long enough for you to know I don’t need or like my answers sugarcoated. Tell me friend to friend. How are you really doing?”

  Max worked his jaw, deciding what and how much to say. Alana was a friend, but she was still his boss. The one who’d recruited him. The one who had his back, but also the one who handed him his backside as needed. “All right,” he said, stretching his legs beneath the table. “Facing the bomb was tough. Tougher than I’d expected. A good example of theory versus reality. In theory, I knew what to do and was ready to do it. In reality, I nearly froze. I felt the panic rising before I’d even entered the building. And I wasn’t convinced I could do the job once I was inside. Then I found the bomb, and part of me wanted to leave. The people were out. Their pets had been moved to safety. The only thing left in danger was an old, poorly maintained building.”

  Alana waited while he struggled to find words for his racing thoughts.

  He kneaded his hands on the table, working to hold her eye contact, though his gaze darted away on its own more than once. “I couldn’t let him damage the building. The apartments are people’s homes. The residents were forced to leave everything behind when they evacuated. Their necessities, personal things, photos, mementos. Not to mention their security and peace of mind. Many of them likely had nowhere else to go.” He paused to wet his lips, feeling another fact fall to his tongue. “And I wanted Fritz O’Lear to know who he was dealing with. I didn’t want him to think he’d won. Or that he could win. Not by any measure.”

  She shifted, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “And now?” she asked.

  “Now I’m concerned he saw my interference as a challenge, and that instead of intimidating him, I provoked him. I’m worried something else will explode at any minute, this time taking lives in the process.”

  “Well, I’m not worried,” she said, confidently. “I knew you were the best when I asked you to join my team, and I’m more sure of that today than ever. You’ve never let me down before. So there is no precedent to expect any differently in the future.”

  Warmed by her words, he felt his cheeks twitch as he fought a smile. “No precedent, huh?”

  “None.”

  He released his grip on his hands and let them fall to his sides, shaking them out at the wrists.

  “Have you been able to talk with Allie since your arrival?” Alana asked. “Better yet, tell me you’ve had a chance to kiss that chubby-cheeked son of yours.”

  “I have,” he said, answering both her questions at once. “Allie and Max Jr. are both doing well.”

  “Excellent.” Alana nodded in approval. “Well, I can see you’re just fine, as expected. I suppose I’d better go and meet with the who’s who and get back to Traverse City before that snake, Jenkins, makes another play for my job while I’m not there to keep a heel on him.”

  Max chuckled. “You’d think he’d be smarter than to mess with you.”

  She stretched to her feet and collected her things, a small smile on her lips. “You’d think.” She offered her hand in a gentle shake as she passed.

  Max held on to her a beat longer than necessary and gave her fingers a soft squeeze before releasing them. “Thank you for coming here, Alana. Your confidence means a lot.”

  A bloom of pride colored her cheeks. “You’ve got this, Max. I have no doubt Grand Rapids is in excellent hands. If you need anything, let me know.”

  * * *

  ON LESS THAN two hours of sleep and far too much caffeine, Opaline donned her favorite eyelashes, then loaded up on lavender eye shadow and matching lip gloss in preparation for the morning meeting. She’d risen with the sun and gone to the office early, eager to share her new leads.

  “Good morning!” she trilled at the sight of her teammates. “Hope you all got a little sleep last night.”

  A collective grumble rolled through the conference room on-screen. They’d clearly had as little rest as Opaline, but also not as much coffee.

  Surprisingly, the teammate who normally looked the most fatigued seemed the most awake. She smiled at Max, wondering if his fresh-faced look had anything to do with his ex-wife arriving at the site of yesterday’s bomb scare.

  “Why don’t we get started,” Axel said, lifting a hand toward the camera. He’d worn his usual dark dress pants, white dress shirt and tie. His hair was mussed and damp, likely from a recent shower, and when he raised his hand to run his fingers through the fair locks, his biceps were quite impressive. Axel Morrow was sexy and single, but the heavy dose of brotherly chemistry between him and Opaline stopped her thoughts on the matter right there.

  But what was this? Opaline felt her brows rise. Her sister’s gaze was fixed on their supervisor, too. Selena’s eyes were dark, her lips parted, and there was something about the color in her cheeks. Dear sis had noticed the bod on their supervisory agent for this assignment, as well, and there was nothing sisterly about the way she was staring.

  “We sent updates as they came available,” Axel went on.

  Selena turned her eyes back to the screen, completely in the zone.

  Opaline reconsidered what she’d seen. Maybe she’d misread her sister’s previous expression. It wouldn’t be the first time or a surprise. She and Selena had been at odds so long she barely felt connected to her these days, beyond the thread of mutual frustration.

  “A number of details and photos were sent from our search of O’Lear’s apartment,” Axel said. “We need to compile the data into one quick-view document for ease and convenience of access.”

  “I can do that,” Opaline said. “I’m also running scans on bar codes I pulled from the images of the discarded pressure-cooker boxes. I’m hoping to use those numbers to determine where they were purchased. Same with the Tannerite. Maybe someone at one of those stores will remember something useful about our bomber. I’m still trying to track down info on his burner phone, but that’s been slow.”

  Axel nodded. “Excellent. We’ve officially moved into manhunt mode. There’s no question in my mind that Fritz O’Lear is our guy. The goal now is to find him before he strikes again.” Axel’s expression was hopeful as he looked into the camera. “Tell me you’ve got something we can run with today.”

  “I do,” she said proudly. “I’m sending the overview now.” She sat taller and launched the group email she’d set up before the call began.

  The team reached for their phones.

  “From the top,” Opaline began. “I found a man named Mark Waters, who called himself O’Lear’s lifelong friend. Bad news—the guy was in a fatal motorcycle accident about ten months ago. Good news—Waters’s parents still live in Grand Rapids. I sent you their address and contact information. If O’Lear was truly a lifelong friend of their son, chances are they will remember him.”

  “Nice,” Axel said. “Who’s got this interview?”

  Carly lifted her pen. “I’ll go.”

  Axel nodded. “Take Aria.”

  The two women exchanged nods.

  “Also,” Opaline continued, “when I ran Mark Waters through the system, I found a car title in his name. Since he’s not driving it, and was on a motorcycle when he passed, I’m guessing the car is either in storage or the new owner hasn’t taken the time to transfer the title.” She pursed her lips and waited.

  “Maybe O’Lear is using it,” Aria said. “We’ll ask the family.”

  “Good work,” Axel told Opaline. “Anything else?”

  “I pulled up the names and contact infor
mation for three families who purchased homes from O’Lear when he worked for Ramsey Realty,” she said.

  “Who is Pamela Berry?” Max asked, obviously skipping ahead on the file Opaline sent.

  Opaline grinned. That was her biggest news. “Pamela is Fritz O’Lear’s high school sweetheart, and according to her Facebook account, he’s someone she still sees from time to time.”

  A slick smile spread over Max’s face. “I’ve got the girlfriend.”

  Selena’s eyes widened and locked on Max. “I want in on that interview.”

  “Done,” he agreed.

  Opaline beamed. “The most recent selfies of Pamela with O’Lear were taken at pool halls or bowling alleys in town, which fits well with the hobbies list I gave you yesterday.”

  “We’re on it,” Max said.

  Opaline smiled back. “Keep me in the loop. I’ll try to locate the suspect while you all go on interviews.”

  “Do we have a description on that car?” Carly asked.

  “Yes.” Opaline switched screens, seeking and finding the details. “Beige, 1999, Toyota Camry. I can send a photo of Mark Waters with the vehicle about three years ago. It’s not the clearest image of the car, but it’s not the worst.”

  “Thanks,” Carly said.

  “Plate number?” Aria asked.

  Opaline scanned the screen, then rattled off the information.

  Max set his phone aside and turned to Rihanna, dutifully tapping away at her phone while the team made plans for the day’s investigation.

  She looked up and caught his eye. “Yes?”

  “Can you get that vehicle description and plate number to the local PD?” Max asked. “Request officers and traffic cams begin looking for it. If Fritz is behind the wheel, we can track and capture him.”

  Rihanna wiggled her phone in one hand. “Already on it.”

  “Nice.” He gave an approving nod.

  Opaline felt her ever hopeful heart grow impossibly lighter. She’d provided leads that got the team energized. She’d boosted her friends’ spirits, and the positive vibes flowing through her screen were her drug of choice.

  “Anything else?” Max asked.

  “That’s all for now,” she answered. “I’ll be in touch as new information comes available.”

  “Thanks, Opaline,” Max said, stretching upright. He pocketed his phone and threaded his arms into a black wool coat. “I think it’s time I get to know Pamela Berry.”

  “Yes.” Selena rose and collected her jacket, as well. She looked into the camera with a small, begrudging smile. Proud, but frustrated. “Good job, Opaline.”

  “Thanks.” Opaline held her breath as she disconnected, and went out on the high note.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Max moved around the table to Selena as the others broke into groups, plotting their next steps.

  Rihanna slipped out of the room immediately. Back to coordinating TCD efforts with local PD and media.

  Selena tracked Max with her gaze, brows furrowed. “I hope you got some sleep last night. Some of us were concerned when we didn’t hear from you.”

  “I did,” he said, guilt tugging at him once more. “I came in a little early to review the information sent during the night. I think I’ve got a good handle on everything.”

  “Okay,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you took the night for yourself. We need you sharp, so stop feeling guilty.” She smiled. “It’s written all over your face. Knock it off, McRay.”

  Max groaned. She’d known exactly how he’d been feeling. And if Selena had noticed, so had everyone else on the team. Hazard of working with a group of federal agents, he thought.

  “Do you have any questions about the images and information we sent from O’Lear’s apartment?” Selena asked.

  “No, but I wouldn’t mind taking a look at the place later. Being in his space might help me get a feel for who this guy is,” Max said. “I’d like to see the evidence you brought in, too. Photos are fine. In person is better.”

  “Sounds good.” Selena swept sleek dark hair off her shoulders, then shrugged into her coat. “We can hit the evidence room on our way out.”

  Max moved toward the door with his partner for the day, eager to get a look at everything taken out of O’Lear’s apartment. “The pictures made it look like there weren’t many materials left in the footlocker.”

  “There weren’t,” Selena agreed, pausing to tie the belt on her coat. “Lots of empty boxes.”

  “Makes me think the next bomb has already been made,” Max said. “I’d kind of hoped you’d turn up the next device and bring it in, or all the materials to make it. Then we’d know he was stopped, at least temporarily. We could’ve kept watch at local stores, assuming he’d be on the hunt to purchase more.”

  “That would have been better.”

  Max frowned. “Yeah. Now we can’t be sure if he’s already made another device or not.”

  “So we’d better get moving,” she said.

  Axel reached the door first, phone in hand. He glanced at Max and Selena as he dialed. “I’m calling the local Department of Transportation to see if I can get someone to review traffic-cam footage from a three-block radius around the known bomb sites. Rihanna requested cops and cams watch for the Toyota moving forward, but I think it’s worth looking backward, as well. Excuse me.” He slipped into the hallway and out of sight.

  Carly palmed her keys and caught the closing door. “Aria and I will go see what Mark Waters’s family knows about O’Lear and their son’s car. If we can confirm who has the vehicle, we’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good,” Max said. “Stay in touch. I’ve got a bad feeling about the text O’Lear sent yesterday. We’ve pushed him, and he’ll be out to punish us.”

  The team traded weary looks.

  Carly circled a finger in a roundup motion. “Well, let’s move out.”

  Max held the door for Selena, following Aria and Carly into the hallway. He and Selena took a look at the evidence confiscated from O’Lear’s apartment before heading out in search of Pamela Berry.

  Selena strode ahead of him into the lot. “Care if I drive?”

  Max lifted his hands. “Nah, but I’m starting to feel like Miss Daisy. Axel drove me around all day when we went out together.”

  “Yeah, well, Aria drove me,” Selena said, looking a little pale with the words.

  Max chuckled. The rookie agent’s driving had frightened more than one of his teammates so far, but Max, thankfully, hadn’t had the pleasure.

  “She is a terror behind the wheel. I’m not kidding. She took some turns that had me clutching my pearls.”

  Max climbed into the passenger seat, secretly thankful for Selena’s offer to drive. He needed a few more minutes to think before jumping mentally into the day. His mind was still on Allie and how much he’d hated to leave her this morning. He hoped she wouldn’t spend the day getting in her own head about what had happened between them last night, because it wasn’t a mistake. Not for him. In fact, he hoped it was the first step on their path to finding their way back together. Permanently.

  He’d kept himself from telling her he loved her, last night and again when he left this morning, but he already regretted the missed opportunities. She didn’t want him to keep things like that from her again, and he understood the importance of being open with one another about what they were feeling, but this was different. When he’d held back on personal transparency during their marriage, it had been because he didn’t want to think about how he felt or why he behaved the way he did. This time, he simply hadn’t wanted to scare her off, and something told him that taking it slow right now would help rebuild her trust. He needed her to believe he was taking this seriously. Not rushing in.

  Selena cast a number of curious looks in his direction as she drove, but it was several
minutes before she finally spoke. “Have you dug into this woman’s social-media profile? Opaline didn’t give us a lot of personal details to go on. We could use the information to decide our best approach for this interview.”

  Max nodded, then kicked himself for not having done that already. A couple of feds showing up on Pamela’s doorstep at breakfast could put her off. “Good call. I’ll check that out.”

  He used his phone to search for Pamela Berry, then navigated to the only profile by that name in Grand Rapids. “Her bio says she has an associate’s degree from Grand Rapids Community College. Looks like she just celebrated her thirty-sixth birthday,” he said, describing everything that caught his attention as he scrolled. “She’s platinum blonde with dark roots. Thin in the extreme. Extremely tan in the Christmas photos taken last month. Long hair.” He flipped through several more shots before commenting again. “She’s either dressing a little young for her age or trying to look high-fashion on a serious budget. She’s got a couple candid photos of her with a birthday cake in a medical office setting. Plain clothes, not scrubs. I’m guessing she has an administrative position.”

  “So there’s nothing in there to indicate she’s unreasonable or has a bias against law enforcement?” Selena asked.

  “No.” Max breathed a little easier for that. Interviewing individuals with a grudge against the police made it more difficult to get straight answers. Everyone in America today seemed to have a strong opinion on law enforcement, one way or the other. Hopefully, Pamela was on the side that trusted and respected what he and his team were doing. Or at least preferred them to her ex. Otherwise, their best link to O’Lear would become another dead end.

  Selena hit her turn signal and cruised into a gas station. “We’re getting low on fuel, and I don’t want to have to stop later if we get into something good.” She pulled up to a pump, then settled the engine. “Be right back.”

  Max knew better than to offer to pump for her, despite the ridiculous temperature and snow on everything in sight. Selena and Aria had both shut him down for acts of chivalry in the past, making their preference for equality on the job crystal clear. Though the minute the workday ended, neither of them would’ve passed up the opportunity to stay warm in the SUV while he froze his other leg off in the cold. Carly, on the other hand, welcomed any act or offer of kindness by anyone at any time.