by Misty Evans
But that level of distrust did a number on people. FBI teams were supposed to trust and rely on each other. When the atmosphere of the office weakened that bond, it diminished the team’s effectiveness.
The news that Shelby was there spread like wildfire and soon she was surrounded by her teammates. Jocelyn, Ross, Denbe, Price—everyone wanted to know how she was and when she was coming back.
It felt good to be wanted.
After introducing Colton to everyone, Ross asked about his service days. As always, Colton wouldn’t talk about it except in a general way. Feeling his discomfort, which, like always, he tried to cover with humor, Shelby gave the group a sweet smile and yawned.
“I’m so sorry, y’all, but I just need to grab something from my desk and get back home. I’m exhausted. The doctor says it will take time to get my previous stamina back.”
The group parted good-naturedly, allowing Colton to wheel her toward her office.
“What do you need, Agent Claiborne?” a familiar male voice asked from behind her.
Damn, she’d hoped when he hadn’t appeared initially that Theo was out of the office.
Colton pulled up short and Theo strode into view.
“I would have been happy to bring it to you,” he said.
She saw the micro expression right before his lips turned up in a fake smile. The brows went down and together, his eyes went hard before he could neutralize them.
Anger.
There and gone so fast, most people would never see it.
He was good, but she was better.
“I wanted to get out,” she said. Truth. “And…well, the thing I wanted is kind of personal.”
Also the truth.
Colton started forward again. “We’ll just grab it and be on our way, chief.”
Theo had disguised his anger at her appearance, but he didn’t bother trying to do the same with his disgust with Colton. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with that file you left the message about earlier, does it, chief?”
Okay, this was already going well.
Not.
“We’re not here about a file,” Shelby lied. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal… I just have a personal item in my desk that I wanted. The doctor said it might stimulate my memory.”
The last part was a lie—her doctor hadn’t said anything of the sort—but it wasn’t necessarily untrue.
Theo lifted both brows, a tic under his left eye. “You’ve never been one to keep personal items at work.”
Busted. What Theo didn’t realize was that she did have this one thing and it wasn’t necessary to lie about it. She lowered her eyes, felt an honest blush flood her cheeks. “It’s helped me through some rough times. I hoped it might do the same right now.”
The air was tense, her coworkers frozen in the awkward headlights of the oncoming train wreck.
Theo’s assessing gaze was like a hot spotlight on her face. He knew this was subterfuge but because it was mixed with so many truths, he couldn’t separate the wheat from the chaff. Shelby had to blink her eyes as the pressure building in her head made her vision swim.
In the background, a phone rang. Jocelyn hustled off to answer it.
“Of course, Agent Claiborne,” Theo said after another stiff moment. “You’re still a full-fledged FBI agent and welcome to your personal stuff. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that the files in your office and on your computer are classified—”
“You know what, Ingram?” Colton drew up to his full height and the good ol’ boy vanished. The former SEAL took its place. “The doctor said it might stimulate Shelby’s memory if we stopped by her office and saw her friends. I didn’t like it, because you know, in the past three months you haven’t found her shooter and there’s a killer out there running around, but I caved and brought her. Now you’ve made a big deal about this and embarrassed her in front of her workmates because you don’t like me. I get that. Nobody likes me, but don’t take it out on her. She’s been a damn good agent for you and she was shot while doing her duty. Can we please move along, get her stuff, and be on our way?”
“Sir?” Jocelyn said from behind them. Everyone turned in her direction.
“You have a call on line one,” she told Theo. “It’s SAC Martinez.”
The head of the Tulsa office. Theo gave Shelby a strained smile. “Good to see you. Let me know when your doctor releases you for work.”
He vanished and Shelby kept her composure while letting out a mental breath. The blank USB in her pocket was about to be put to good use—if she could get the black dots dancing around her eyes to go away. She motioned Colton to the office at the end of the hall.
“What was that all about?” Denbe asked under his breath as he walked with Colton and Shelby. His office was across from hers on the left.
“He’s under a lot of pressure,” Shelby said, “running back and forth between here and the Tulsa office. Both places are understaffed and overworked. Too many cases, not enough resources. You know how it goes.”
They arrived and she saw Colton roll his eyes at Denbe. “Personally? I think he’s just a douche.”
Denbe grinned. “You’re not wrong, my brother.”
He patted Shelby on the shoulder. “I’m glad you came by. We missed you.”
“Thanks,” she said as Colton shook his hand, then reached for the doorknob.
The old brass knob squeaked, the door sticking slightly, forcing Colton to push his shoulder into it. Once open, he wheeled her across the threshold and closed the door behind them. “Let’s do this and get out of here. Place gives me the creeps.”
It wasn’t exactly the most beautiful, modern office building. Her window blind was closed and a musty odor hung in the air with the dust.
She traded the wheelchair for her office chair, moving without Colton’s help. She turned on her computer and signed in, pointing Colton to her file cabinet. “I’m guessing Theo has the paper file, but the one he had yesterday was from my desk. There’s a backup in there. Case 17.5ACX.”
He grabbed a handle, tugged. “It’s locked.”
Locked? Right. She probably locked it before she left that night to meet Colton.
“That’s probably normal, but I…” Pain shot through her temple. She grabbed her head. “Oww.”
Colton was by her side in an instant. “What is it?”
The pain was getting sharper every time she tried to force the memories of that day. She breathed through it, then looked up at Colton. “I honestly don’t remember ever locking that file, or if there’s a key. I mean, it makes sense, I’m sure I did it every night before I went home, but I can’t remember.”
He massaged her shoulder. “You got any paperclips?”
She opened her pencil drawer. “Yeah.”
He picked out two large ones and started straightening them. “You check the computer, I’ll get the file. Ol’ Theo will be in here before you can say double douchebag.”
The icons on the screen were colorful and stimulated something inside her brain. She would have to enter her password in the database to access the file.
Duh!
Theo, or anyone else, could see she’d been in the system and which files she’d pulled up.
Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? Damn brain.
Use Theo’s passcode.
The idea made her sit back in her chair. While she may have inadvertently figured out her boss’s passcode a long time ago, it was a direct violation to actually use it. No way she was doing that.
“Theo’s already suspicious. He’ll be watching for my passcode to sign into the database. I can’t access the computer file.”
The file cabinet lock popped open and Colton tossed the paperclips—his makeshift lock pick—onto her desk. “So use someone else’s.”
She shook her head. “Regardless of whose passcode I use, the date and location stamp will give us away. It will show the file was accessed from this computer while you and I were in here. Plus, usi
ng another agent’s access is a steep code violation.”
Colton shrugged as if committing a felony was like brushing your teeth. Maybe to him it was. “Up to you. We need that file, and it was your case. If you solve it—and you will—I doubt your superiors will care about you accessing it while on medical leave.”
After a moment of an internal red-hot argument with herself, Shelby pulled out the USB from her pocket and inserted it into the side. Then she took a deep breath, typed in her own passcode, and started downloading the file.
“I got it,” Colton said, dragging out a blue folder from the cabinet. “Case 17.5ACX.”
Yes! “I’m almost done here. Another minute and—”
A loud squeak echoed through the room making her flinch.
The doorknob turned. Someone was coming in.
FUCK A DUCK.
Colton shoved the case file into the backpack on Shelby’s wheelchair, lunged for her, snatched her out of the office chair and laid her across the desk. His lips caught her gasp as he lowered her down, kissing her hard just as the door to the office swung open.
The gasp turned to a sigh as she melted under him, her heart banging against his chest as he lip-locked her with all the pent up longing he’d been bottling up for eighteen long months.
She parted her lips even more, her tongue getting in the game. One hand tangled in his hair, tugging on it; the other kneaded his neck, pulling him closer.
Goddamn, he wanted this woman, and he would take her any way he could get her.
Even if it was in front of the entire office staff.
He gripped her hips through her jeans, felt the sweet sensation of her spreading her legs so he could slide even closer…
A loud cough cut through the roar between his ears.
Colton ignored it.
Go the fuck away.
And then, “Did you find what you were looking for, Agent Claiborne?”
Shelby broke the kiss, staring into Colton’s eyes, teeth biting her bottom lip. “I think I found something better.”
Colton smirked, then against the wishes of his lower anatomy, lifted himself off her, making sure to shift a piece of paper over to cover the USB stuck in the side of the computer. Shelby had somehow managed to put the screen to sleep, but the USB light was flashing on and off. Nothing like signaling the enemy.
“We got a little sidetracked,” he said to that bastard Ingram as he helped Shelby off the desk. Had Shelby been right? Had the ASAC seen her log into the system? “Honey, did you check the bottom drawer?”
Shelby looked properly embarrassed but he saw the grin teasing the side of her mouth as she sat in the chair and yanked out the drawer. “No, I hadn’t gotten to that one yet.”
Ingram’s cheeks sucked in for a moment, then blew out. The guy was positively puffing from his anger. “I’m afraid I have to head up to Tulsa. Thought I’d walk you out.”
Wait, hadn’t he seen Shelby log into the system? Wasn’t he going to bust them?
Colton moved away from the desk, drawing the man’s attention. No sense looking a gift horse—or agent in this case—in the mouth. “Sure thing. We’ll catch up with you at the front door.”
That’s when he saw it in his peripheral vision…the metal lock sticking out of the file cabinet.
Shit.
Shelby made a big deal of shuffling through the contents of her desk drawer. Out came a coffee mug, bag of Twix candy bars, makeup bag, deodorant, and a hairbrush. The items scattered across the top of the desk.
Ingram crossed his arms over his chest.
Colton leaned his shoulder against the cabinet, nailing the lock and covering the soft click with a loud cough.
Shelby, smiling but looking slightly distracted, shuffled through another drawer. “You know, I’d swear it was here, but I don’t see it.”
“What exactly is it?” Ingram asked.
Not asked. Demanded.
Colton’s hackles bristled.
Shelby’s eyes snapped up to lock on Ingram. “A photo.” Her voice was as hard and unforgiving as the metal cabinet Colton was leaning on.
Boy, he’d heard that tone a few times in his life. The dragon inside him chuckled. If Ingram knew what was good for him, he’d hightail it out of her vicinity.
“A photo?” Ingram echoed.
Stupid man.
“Yes. If you must know, it was a picture of Colton and myself.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly. She twisted her braid. “Happier times, you know?”
Ah, yes. His beauty queen was also a spot-on actress.
Ingram’s forceful gaze swung to Colton, back to Shelby. “Maybe you got rid of it.”
For good reason.
The unsaid words hung in the air between the three of them.
Colton straightened, a sour laugh escaping his lips. What he wouldn’t give to punch the man in the face, but this was an FBI office and Ingram was Shelby’s boss. He needed to be an adult here. Get that USB and Shelby out of here without causing her any further duress.
What would Beatrice do?
The Queen B probably wouldn’t find herself in this type of situation. Still, he had a pretty good imagination and Beatrice’s voice was clear in his mind.
He cleared his throat, drawing Ingram’s attention. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment?” Then he flashed Shelby an encouraging smile. “You go ahead, honey, and finish up there. If you can’t find the picture, we’ll ask your mom to make a copy of hers, okay?”
As he spoke, he purposely positioned himself in front of Ingram, practically forcing the man to back out the door.
For half a second, it was nothing but a tense, nonverbal pissing match as Ingram eyed him up and down. He caved after another glance at Shelby and moved into the hallway.
“What?” he hissed under his breath once they were outside the office.
Colton motioned him farther away from the door, acting like he was afraid Shelby might overhear. “Look, I know this is weird, but because of her brain injury, she has some little OCD quirks. You saw it—fiddling with her hair all the time? She also taps her foot before she stands up. Arranges the food on her plate just so before she’ll eat it.” God, he was so good at lying, sometimes it scared him. “The doctor says it’s normal after the brain injury and coma, and in time, she’ll probably stop doing those things. But for now, she needs to feel she has control. She’s fixated on that picture, so give her a minute, okay? When she stresses out, she gets a migraine and her vision goes out on her. You don’t want that to happen, trust me. She starts bawling like a cat with its tail caught in a fan.”
Playing the injury card, doctor card, and crying card all in one punch worked. Ingram rubbed his eyes under his glasses and looked away.
Guilt? Maybe the guy was just exhausted.
Or the idea of a crying female did to him what it did to most men.
“I found it!” Shelby called. “I knew it was here!”
Colton caught the surprise on Ingram’s face and patted his arm. “Thank the Almighty, it really was here. Her memory is coming back.”
The faint tic under the man’s left eye suggested he might not be so glad about that.
But Colton didn’t have a chance to analyze more before Ingram turned away. “Get her home, Bells. And make sure she gets to her PT session today. The sooner I get my agent back, the sooner I’m rid of you.”
“Nice seein’ you too,” Colton called after him. Lowering his voice, he muttered, “Dickwad.”
Shelby waved the picture for all to see as he walked back into the office, then realized Ingram was gone. “Where’s Theo?”
“He bought our little show. You got the USB?”
She tapped her hip. “In my pocket.”
He settled her into the wheelchair. She laid the picture in her lap. Sure enough, it was one of the two of them at Christmas, back before Colton and Shelby had shipped out on their one and only mission together—Connor’s rescue.
Happier times.
Yeah, he
remembered those. From the way Shelby kept kissing him, she remembered them too.
Somehow, he had to figure out how to get them back.
“Mission accomplished.” He wheeled her out the door. “Let’s go, Mata Hari.”
Chapter Twelve
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SHELBY HAD EVERYTHING she wanted. The file from her office, her favorite takeout in front of her, and Colton Bells eyeing her from across the dining room table with that look.
She knew that look. Ever since the kiss in her office, he’d been sending her smoldering glances. His touch lingered a few seconds longer than necessary. When they’d arrived back at the house to find her mom, dad, and Daniel there with food from the parishioners, Colton’s demeanor had been soft and protective, his normal razor-sharp tongue with her dad more tolerant and easygoing.
She’d introduced Connor to her parents and Daniel, and then he’d left to get his girlfriend. Six casseroles, three cakes, and twenty minutes of reassuring her parents later, Jack and Martha pulled out of the driveway with Daniel driving, leaving her alone with the man now sitting across from her.
Currently, it wasn’t just a smoldering glance drifting her way. He was full-on knocking her out with his bold gaze. “You’re not eating enough,” he said.
This from the man who hadn’t touched a thing on his plate. He’d poured himself a glass of tea, rather than grabbing a beer, and hadn’t even touched that.
The chicken fries she usually devoured in under a minute toyed with her nose, but her mouth watered for something else. Something only Colton could give her.
Picking up a fry, she nibbled on it. “Guess I’m not hungry for Moody’s after all.”
“I can heat up one of those god-awful casseroles in the fridge.”
“Be nice. It was sweet of the ladies’ group to go to all that trouble.”
“Feels like a funeral luncheon to me.”
