Man of Action

by Janie Crouch

  Drackett’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

  Andrea shrugged, very aware of how much her clothes revealed. Her skimpy bra was clearly noticeable through the mesh of her top. The short pleated skirt she wore barely covered her bottom, and men often took it as an invitation to run their hand up her thigh.

  Andrea had stopped slapping their hands away once Harry threatened to fire her.

  She was used to men gawking at her body, but Mr. Drackett’s eyes hadn’t so much as left her face once since he’d arrived.

  “You’re angry,” she said. It wasn’t terribly noticeable in his expression, but she could tell.

  Grace was surprised. “I don’t think Steve is angry, Andrea.” She turned to him. “Maybe we’re wrong about her.”

  Steve shook his head once. “No, she’s spot-on. I’m pissed as hell that she’s working in a place like this.” He stepped closer to Andrea and she couldn’t help but take a step back. He froze. “I’m not angry at you, I promise.”

  Andrea believed him. “Okay.”

  “But do you mind coming outside with us? This will only take a few minutes.”

  Andrea grabbed her lightweight jacket and followed them out the side door. “I can’t stay out here very long. I’ll get fired if I do. I need this job,” she said in the quieter, cooler air of outside. Finally she felt as if she could breathe again.

  “You were right about the third man in the bank.” Grace smiled at her. “You probably saved a lot of lives yesterday. He had a briefcase full of explosives and was just waiting to use them. Was waiting for SWAT so he could take them down, too.”

  Andrea closed her eyes in relief. At least no one had gotten hurt and these two people hadn’t gotten fired.

  “Andrea, I’m going to cut right to the chase.” Mr. Drackett kept his distance so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. “We believe you have a gift at reading people’s emotions and microexpressions, even when they’re only available for a split second.”

  Andrea wasn’t exactly sure what microexpressions were, but she knew she was good at reading people.

  “Maybe.” She shrugged, clutching her jacket to her chest. “So?”

  “I’m Steve Drackett. Grace and I work for Omega Sector: Critical Response Division. We’re law enforcement, sort of like the FBI, but without as much red tape.”

  “And smarter and better looking,” Grace chimed in, smiling again. “We’re based out of Colorado Springs.”

  That was all fine and good, but what did it have to do with her? “Okay.”

  Drackett crossed his arms over his chest. “We’d like you to come work for us.”

  “What?” Andrea wasn’t sure she was hearing right. “Doing what?”

  “What you did at the bank. What you seem to be a natural at doing, if we’re not mistaken. Reading people.”

  Andrea’s gaze darted over to Grace then back to Drackett. “You don’t even know me. Maybe I just got lucky at the bank.”

  Steve tilted his head to the side. “Maybe, but I don’t think so. There are some tests that can help us know for sure. We’ll pay for you to fly to Colorado Springs and for all your expenses during testing.”

  Andrea grimaced. Tests, books, schooling were not her strengths. The opposite, in fact. She looked down at her feet. “I’m not too good at tests. Didn’t finish high school.”

  “It won’t be like math or English tests you took in school,” Grace said gently. “It’s called ‘behavioral and nonverbal communication diagnostic testing.’”

  Now Andrea was even more confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Grace smiled. “Don’t worry about the name. The testing will involve a lot of pictures, or live people, and we’ll see how accurately you can pick up their emotions and expressions.”

  Okay, only reading emotions, not words. Maybe she could handle it, but she still wasn’t sure. What if she failed?

  “Andrea!” Harry yelled from the door. “Time’s up.”

  Steve looked at Harry then back to Andrea. “There are no strings in this offer,” Steve said, his voice still calm and even. “You can check us out before you get on the plane, make sure we’re legit. Read up about Omega, so you feel safe.”

  Andrea studied them both. There was no malice in either of them as they looked back at her, just respect, concern and a hopefulness. They legitimately seemed to want her to join them.

  “What if I can’t do what you want? If I’m not as good as you think?” she whispered.

  “Then you’ll be paid handsomely for the time you’ve spent doing the testing,” Grace said. “And we’ll fly you anywhere you want to go. It doesn’t have to be in Arizona.”

  “Andrea.” Harry’s voice was even louder. “Get your ass back in here. Now.”

  “And we’ll help get you started in another career. It may not be with Omega, but it doesn’t have to be here. This is not the place for you. Why don’t you leave with us tonight?” The compassion in Steve’s face was her undoing.

  She looked back at Harry. He was livid, wanted to hurt her physically, emotionally, any way he could. It seemed as if there had been someone wanting to hurt her all her life.

  But Steve and Grace didn’t. They wanted to help. She just hoped she didn’t disappoint them.

  Andrea slipped her jacket all the way onto her body. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

  There was nothing worth keeping her here.

  Chapter One

  Four years later, Andrea stood in front of a bathroom mirror inside Omega Sector headquarters. She smoothed her straight black skirt and made sure—again—that her blouse was tucked in neatly before checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time. Blond hair, cut in a sleek bob—the most professional haircut she’d been able to think of—was perfectly in place. Makeup tastefully applied and nothing that would draw attention to herself.

  She was about to be fired from her job as a behavioral analyst at Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division.

  Why else would Steve Drackett be calling her into his office at ten thirty on a Monday morning?

  Actually, she could think of a half dozen reasons why he would be calling her in: a new case, a new test, some assignment he needed her to work on or a video briefing where her analysis was needed. But her brain wasn’t interested in focusing on any of the logical reasons he wanted to meet with her.

  “Steve and Grace both know your background and still want you here,” she told her reflection. The scared look didn’t leave her eyes. She forced herself to vacate the bathroom and head down the hall. If Steve was going to fire her, there was nothing she could do about it.

  No one said hello to her as she walked through the corridors and Andrea didn’t engage anyone. She’d utilized this keep-to-herself plan ever since she had realized exactly how important Omega was and the caliber of people they had working here in the Critical Response Division. Ever since Steve and Grace had officially offered her a job four years ago after six weeks of testing.

  She may have a gift of reading people, but Andrea didn’t think for one minute that she was the sort of person Omega normally hired.

  She’d known from the beginning she needed to keep her past a secret. Announcing to her colleagues that she was a runaway, dyslexic high school dropout who—oh yeah—used to be an exotic dancer would not inspire much confidence in her. So she’d made it a point not to tell anyone. Not to ever discuss her past or personal life at all. If it didn’t involve a case, Andrea didn’t talk about it.

  Her plan hadn’t won her any friends, but it had successfully worked at keeping her secrets. She could live without friends.

  Andrea pushed on the door that led to the outer realm where Steve’s assistants worked. One of them stood, welcoming and walking her to Steve’s office door and opening it. The cl
icks of Andrea’s three-inch heels on the tiled floor sounded more like clanging chimes of doom in her head as she stepped through.

  “Hey, Andrea, good to see you,” Steve said from behind his desk, looking up from a stack of papers.

  She supposed he was handsome, with his brown hair graying slightly at the temples and his sharp blue eyes, but since he was nearly twenty years older than her, she’d never even thought of him in that way. She respected him with every fiber of her being. Not only for getting her out of a dead-end life back at Jaguar’s in Buckeye, Arizona, but because of how fair and respectful he acted toward all the people who worked at Omega.

  But he was tired. Andrea could tell. “You need a vacation, boss. Some time away from this circus.”

  Steve put his elbows on his desk and bridged his fingers together, grimacing just the slightest bit. “You know why I don’t invite you in here very often? Because you see too much.” But his words held no fire. He knew what she said was right.

  Andrea nodded.

  “Sit down, Andrea. I’m afraid what I have to say might be a little difficult to hear.”

  Oh my God, he is going to fire me.

  Andrea took a breath through her nose and tried not to let her panic show. She had known this was a possibility from the beginning. Not just a possibility, a probability.

  She tried to mentally regroup. Okay, she wasn’t the same girl who had left with Steve and Grace from Buckeye. She had managed to successfully complete her high school equivalency degree and even had two years of college under her belt. Yes, her dyslexia made some classes difficult, and she had to take them at a slower pace than most people, but she was making progress.

  She could get some other job now. She had money in savings. She didn’t have to go back to Jaguar’s and let those people paw at her again.

  “Andrea.”

  Steve’s tone made her realize it wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. She finally forced herself to focus on what he was saying.

  “I don’t need to have your gift to see that you’re panicking. What the hell is going on in that brain of yours?” She could feel waves of concern flowing from him, and it was easily readable on his face.

  She rubbed her skirt again. “Steve, I understand if you need to let me go. I’ve always known that was a possibility—”

  “Andrea, I’m not firing you.”

  “But you said this may be difficult.”

  “And it probably will be, but why don’t you let me finish before you jump to conclusions.”

  Now Andrea felt the reprimand. She sank back a little in her chair. “Yes, sir.”

  “I need you for a case.”

  He really wasn’t firing her. “Okay.”

  “It involves a serial killer. He’s been striking in the Phoenix area, with the last woman found dead just outside of Buckeye.”

  Her hometown. Now his concern made sense.

  “And you want me to go there.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I think your ability as a behavioral analyst, plus your knowledge of and history with the area, makes you one of our best chances of stopping this guy as quickly as possible.”

  She was glad she wasn’t being fired, but Steve was right—this was hard. She didn’t want to go back to Buckeye. When she’d left there that night with Steve and Grace, she’d never returned. She’d gone back inside Jaguar’s to collect her personal belongings and her tips and had told Harry she wasn’t coming back.

  She’d been glad to have Grace, obviously a cop and obviously carrying a weapon, standing behind her as she did it, because she didn’t think Harry would’ve taken it so well otherwise. As it was, his face had turned a molten red, small eyes narrowed even further. But he hadn’t stopped her.

  She’d never really explained it all to Steve, but Jaguar’s was really just the tip of her iceberg of bad memories when it came to Buckeye. The situation she’d lived through the years before she’d run away from her aunt and uncle’s home had been much worse. She still bore a few scars to prove that.

  “I know this is hard for you.” Steve was studying her carefully from behind his desk.

  “Buckeye is not somewhere I’d choose to visit.” The understatement of the century.

  Steve came around to sit on his desk, closer to her. “Andrea, you’re not the same person Grace and I met in Buckeye four years ago. You’re stronger, more confident, able to handle the stress of this job, which isn’t a light matter.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I know you feel like you don’t have the same educational background or experience of most of the people actively working cases at Omega. But you have a natural talent at reading people that continues to be honed.”

  “But—”

  Steve wasn’t really interested in her arguments. “I can think of a dozen cases, just off the top of my head, where your assistance provided the primary components needed to allow us to make an arrest.”

  Andrea took a breath. She knew that. Intellectually, she knew all that Steve spoke was the truth. But it was so hard.

  “You’ve got to stop thinking I’m about to fire you every time I call you to my office. I’m not, trust me. I can’t afford to lose such a valuable member of the Omega team.”

  Steve radiated sincerity. Of course, he always had. And she did believe she was part of the team. A noneducated, ex-stripper part of the team, but part of the team.

  Okay, she could handle this. She could handle going back to Buckeye.

  “Of course, we won’t be sending you alone. You and Brandon Han will be working together.”

  Andrea smiled through gritted teeth, glad that Steve wasn’t as skilled at reading people as she was. Brandon Han, as in Dr. Brandon Han, with something like two PhDs and an IQ higher than Einstein. They called him “the machine.” He was considered the best and most brilliant profiler at Omega.

  Not to mention he was hotter than sin. Tall, black hair, with a prominent Asian heritage.

  “Do you know Brandon?”

  Besides when she’d fantasized about him? “Um, I’ve never worked any cases with him, but I’ve met him a couple of times, briefly.”

  She wasn’t sure he would even remember meeting her.

  “Great. He’ll be here any minute. Then we can go over details and get you guys going today.”

  * * *

  BRANDON HAN WAS running a little late for his meeting with Steve but knew his boss would understand. Brandon had just come from visiting the widow and kids of his ex-partner.

  Brandon didn’t get by to see them as much as he liked, but he knew there were other Omega people checking in on them, also. David Vickars had been a well-liked and respected member of the team. He’d had the backs of many agents over the years, and the Omega family didn’t forget their own.

  David had died a year ago from a foe even Omega couldn’t fight: cancer. He’d worked active duty until a month before he died from an inoperable tumor, then spent his last weeks with his wife and kids.

  Brandon and David had been partners for seven years and had been friends for long before that. Brandon hadn’t been interested in working with a partner since David died.

  But he knew the minute he walked into Steve Drackett’s office and saw beautiful, blonde Andrea Gordon sitting in a chair, body language screaming nervousness, that he was about to get partnered again.

  Damn it.

  Brandon had become quite adept at working alone. He liked the quiet. He liked being able to work at his own pace, which—no conceit intended—was often quite a bit faster than everyone else’s.

  “Hey, Steve,” he greeted his boss. He nodded at Andrea, but she’d looked away. Par for the course for her. She’d looked away every time he’d ever been in the same room with her.

  Drackett stood from behind his desk
and shook Brandon’s hand. “Let’s go over to the conference table to talk about a case.”

  Steve was moving them to neutral ground, not wanting to pull rank from behind his desk if he didn’t have to. He wanted Brandon to agree to whatever was about to be asked without having to force him. If Brandon wasn’t mistaken, his boss’s friendliness had to do with Andrea. A protectiveness maybe.

  “Sure,” Brandon agreed amicably. He might as well let this play out.

  Andrea stood and joined them. Brandon held out a chair for her, waiting to see if she was one of those women who got offended by the gesture. That would tell him a lot about her.

  But she just looked surprised for a moment before taking the chair he held out. He helped slide it in as she sat.

  Okay, not afraid of her own femininity and didn’t feel that every situation needed to be a struggle of power.

  “You’ve met Andrea Gordon?” Steve asked, glancing at them.

  “Yes, a couple of times. Good to see you again.”

  “Yes, you too,” she murmured, voice soft. Sweet, even.

  “We’ve got a serial killer working in the Phoenix area. Three dead so far.” Steve handed them both a file.

  “Confirmed serial?” Brandon asked, glancing through the file.

  “Pretty much as confirmed as these things can get. All three were women in their early twenties. All were found covered in some sort of white cloth and holding a lotus flower.”

  “Purity,” Andrea muttered.

  “What?” Steve asked.

  Andrea shrugged. “Lotus flowers are the symbol of purity in some cultures.”

  “She’s right,” Brandon said. “And so is the white cloth. Almost like a cleansing ritual.”

  “Okay, that’s something to go on. I’ll need you two to leave tonight. The local police department is expecting you.”

  “Steve, since David...” Died. Brandon found it difficult to say the word even now a year later, so he just didn’t. “Since David, I’ve been working alone. That’s been going pretty well for me. I think I’m more productive that way.”

  Brandon turned to Andrea. “I mean that as no offense to you whatsoever.”