by Nikki Duncan
“Rose.” His deliberate calm skated over Lana, left ice crystals in her veins. Rose seemed unaffected. “You’ve been warned by Agent Lawson. Now I’m telling you.” He paused a single beat before continuing. “Get away from this scene.”
Oblivious to Aidan’s power, and his unspoken intent, Rose chuckled. She’d been arrogant enough to allow her cameraman to keep recording and stupid enough to laugh in Aidan’s face.
Now Lana was torn between stepping away and jumping the angry agent pulsing at her side.
“I think you’ve forgotten the press has rights.”
“Only until they break the law.” He tilted his head slightly higher, a subtle and silent move that had Kieralyn moving forward with her cuffs pulled. She stepped behind Rose while Aidan continued speaking.
“Rose Stevens, you’re under arrest for violating the statutes of a restraining order.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Rose struggled against Kieralyn’s hold as the conviction of Aidan’s intent penetrated. Her practiced façade never faltered. “This won’t stick.”
“Maybe your station will bail you out in time for the broadcast,” Kieralyn said with a smile as she escorted Rose away.
The cameraman shut off his camera and walked away without a word.
“I think my interview just got bumped down a little.”
“As if a news station is going to promote the idiocy of their crew. She gets ratings. She’ll be aired.”
Lana fell into step with Aidan as they headed back to his car. “Guess I can look forward to seeing myself sans makeup and in full tear-stricken glory on the news then.”
“A journalistic dream realized.”
The snide sidekick landed with an air-robbing accuracy to her ribs. Her hand halted, hovered over the handle. Across the car he glanced casually her way, unaware of his degrading view of her.
Rather than the confrontational defense she so frequently took when Aidan undervalued her, Lana surprised herself with a calmer approach. This was the second time in an hour she surprised herself.
It didn’t happen often. Almost never, to be precise. Yet the moment she heard Aidan’s plan, recognized the possibilities it held, she broke her personal rule of staying in the background. She was more successful as a reporter when people didn’t view her as a limelight seeker, when they believed she cared more about the story than building her name.
Still, she’d ignored her primary rule in hopes of helping Aidan catch a killer. She’d planted her feet in the spotlight to draw the villainous attention her way. Now, she was pulling her verbal punches in the face of Aidan’s lack of trust.
Once she settled into the passenger seat and buckled up she started to speak, but stopped herself. Three more times on the way back to her place she began to speak. Three more times she stopped herself, allowed Aidan to sink deeper into his angry thoughts. With each passing moment of silence his jaw tightened, his forehead tensed and his carotid trembled.
Back at her apartment, she opened a few windows for some fresh air and got to work preparing dinner. Aidan pulled out his computer and phone and set to work. Between dinner preparation tasks, she booted up her own laptop and worked. They still didn’t speak. There was nothing to talk about. There wouldn’t be until he saw the need to apologize, and she wasn’t holding a breath for that to happen.
The idea behind Aidan’s earlier plan was that the killer, now suspected to be Dr. Grayson’s office manager, had either been hanging in the crowd of Maria’s neighbors or would be watching the news. If she was at Maria’s, she could have followed Aidan and Lana home. If she wasn’t, but saw the news and wanted to finish where she’d failed, she’d likely come after Lana again. So like before, Lana was the bait with Aidan acting as her primary backup.
She wanted to believe on some level that his willingness to include her meant he held a little respect for her as a journalist, as a woman. Some part of him had to believe in her promise to protect certain details, to be sure any evidence she helped them gather could be used in court. Unless she was just being optimistic.
Personal optimism shrank the longer Aidan held his silence. Professional optimism was a different matter. Her story was beginning to take shape.
Between typing up her thoughts and observations, she’d been swapping emails with sources and instant messaging with Dr. Grayson about his office manager. He’d given her his contact information at Maria’s claiming he wanted to help in any way possible. He thought his office manager had been behaving strangely. He’d caught her doctoring a few patient files. Though, he had less of a clue why she’d kill people than he had faith in her ability to get away with one murder let alone three. Unless she had a partner.
Lana checked the breaded chicken in the oven and turned back to her laptop as a promo for the news came on. Aidan paused in his work to see what they said.
A still shot of Lana near the end of the interview popped into the screen’s top corner. They’d spotlighted the moment when Aidan grabbed her arm and she looked up at him. On screen, as she’d hoped, her submission didn’t come across as fake. Also on screen, and hopefully only visible to her, was something she hadn’t seen before. Beneath the fear and grief, hidden in the tiny bite of her lower lip and the way she angled her body toward his, was love.
She’d submitted to him all right.
The self-admission of what she saw on the screen swept through her like a tidal wave. She stumbled back a step and grabbed the counter for support. The attraction she’d felt toward him was one thing. It could be ignored. This… Loving a man who held little regard for her… Her chest tightened, squeezed her heart. She’d just opened herself up to misery.
The realization of her own turmoil was shoved back when the news promo began. “A death in a quiet subdivision captures FBI attention. What aren’t they telling us?”
“I’ll tell them about their ace reporter,” Aidan muttered.
“She’s a woman with a me-me-track mind, that’s for sure.” Lana fought for calm while her mind whirred with thoughts. She turned her shaky attention to the task of rinsing and cutting veggies. If she stayed busy she stood a better chance of concealing any signs he could pick up.
Aidan scoffed and went back to his laptop as they moved on to another story clip. After a moment of typing, he stopped and stared. Lana wasn’t sure if he was staring at the plant she’d gotten from Maria or the pot it was in or if he simply stared. Then he began tapping the base of the pot with his staring eyes narrowing fractionally with each tap.
With the veggies in the steamer, Lana ignored his tapping and opened an email from her boss that popped in.
Here’s the story you didn’t want me to dig for.
She read the message twice before pulling up an instant message window to chat in real time with the one person who would have the answers about Aidan and Rose. He was also the one person she would have the hardest time getting the truth out of. Her dad.
Seven years ago, she typed, the FBI was viewed as responsible for the deaths of six children.
We have tried to forget about that, especially publicly. The response was a blow. She’d thought he knew her well enough to trust in everything he taught her.
I’m not the public. You of all people should know that.
You’re right. I’m sorry.
That’s not an answer. I see you trust me as much as Aidan.
Still no response.
It was all over the news, Lana typed. The reporter is still reporting. I can go to her with my questions.
If Agent Burgess distrusts your profession it is with good reason. It isn’t my place to talk about it.
I’m only asking you about the FBI side of things. I’ll get the rest from Aidan.
He won’t talk.
Daddy. She primarily called him Daddy when she was feeling particularly emotional or mushy. At the moment, the emotional angle tilted toward hurt. She’d never asked him for information or help on a story. She’d never crossed the line from daughter to
journalist when there had been many times it would have made things easier. Her hope that he would realize that was dying.
This is really important. I wish you’d trust me to know how to handle it, and to keep it out of the news.
I do trust you. Does this relate to your recent attack?
It could. It could also relate to something more personal.
Agent Burgess.
Yes.
You love him?
It’s too soon to say. At least it was too soon to put in writing to her dad, because she knew it would flip his switch to over-protective father and she didn’t want that bleeding into Aidan’s work.
Agent Burgess was working Kidnappings and Missing Persons at the time. Children were being taken from school. The case had taken months to build. Just as Agent Burgess and the team he was on at the time were closing in, the reporter you mention stepped in. She thought she could corner the kidnapper and close the case on her own.
Lana waited for her dad to continue. She knew he was culling through the facts to determine what to share and what to keep confidential. Her father believed full disclosure meant two-thirds disclosure. That was if he was feeling generous.
She had learned the kidnapper’s identity by accessing Agent Burgess’s laptop. She tracked him to an elementary school and when she confronted him, he took a teacher and her class hostage. By the time Agent Burgess and his team arrived on scene one child had already been fatally wounded. They worked fast and saved many lives, but before it was over six children were killed.
Lana recalled the story and didn’t need details to understand how the tragedy could sour Aiden on reporters. She wanted them, though. If Rose had stayed back the agents could have, would have, taken the killer when he was away from kids. All those lives would have been spared.
You’ll have to get anything more from Agent Burgess.
You didn’t shut the reporter down after that?
Some reporters are worth more attention than others. I was told Agent Burgess dealt with her.
And so you trusted it was a closed case.
I can’t track every agent in the Bureau. I have to trust my people and Agent Burgess has yet to misstep in our eyes.
Thanks, Dad.
You’re welcome. Please let him protect you.
Only because I love you. And don’t want you giving him too much shit if anything happens.
Then make sure nothing happens.
Smiling a little, Lana closed the IM window and turned to Aidan. His view on reporters suddenly made sense. It still hurt that he blanketed her with Rose, but she understood better. Questions pranced in her mind, vying for priority status. Only one deserved it.
“Aidan?”
“I’ve seen this plant somewhere else.”
He spoke more to himself than her, but his apparent distraction told her she wouldn’t have his attention for her question. She could push, even manipulate the situation to her favor. She’d rather approach things more head on, so instead of pursuing her planned path, she took a new one.
“It’s a hybrid Maria created to aid in boosting an immune system. She uses it to make a lotion for some of her clients. ”
He gave no indication he’d heard her and after a minute of looking for one Lana shook her head and did a little more research into the story she’d just been reminded about. She’d have found the connection between Aidan, Rose Stevens and the story in question long ago if she hadn’t left Aidan’s privacy alone.
Knowing what she knew now still didn’t address the personal side of things, because her father wouldn’t have held back if there hadn’t been a personal element for Aidan to the case. A personal element that explained how Rose had gotten access to Aidan’s laptop.
Aidan tapped keys. He called Tyler, asking if he’d gotten anything on Grayson’s office manager. He tapped the edge of his laptop, thinking over whatever Tyler said before snapping his fingers. A blink later they were flying over the keys of his laptop.
He continued to work until Lana sat dinner beside him. He continued to work while it grew cold. He continued to work while she cleaned the kitchen after eating.
“Found it.” Triumph trilled in his tone.
Lana’s heart kicked. “The killer?”
“Her connection to two of the victims.” He grabbed his cell, pushed a few buttons and drummed his fingers on the counter until the call connected. “Breck, we need a warrant.”
Lana wanted to ask questions, to know immediately what he’d uncovered. Impatience, just like if she’d pushed earlier, would only cement what he thought of her. She settled for what she could glean from his side of the conversation. If he got wrapped up enough in his call he’d forget she was listening and let his guard lower.
“Tyler was able to learn that Jayleen Somers, Dr. Grayson’s office manager, volunteered at the assisted living home where Danielle Johnson died,” Aidan said to his team leader. “I’ve been emailing the home’s manager. Rather than using her real name, she volunteered as Summer James. She disappeared when Danielle Johnson died. When Tyler ran Natasha Lambert, he found out she used to be a foster mom and that her maiden name was James. Jayleen Somers was a foster kid in her home. According to one of Natasha’s other kids, Jayleen preferred being called Summer.”
Using a foster parent’s name could suggest a close bond or a deep hatred. Or it was simply a way to hide from authorities. Which was the case for Jayleen?
He paused, listening to Breck for a moment before continuing his cool delivery of the facts. “I don’t think she meant to kill them. At least not Danielle and Natasha. They could have been accidents. Lance, Maria and Lana… I think they became too big a threat.
“We’ve only been able to speak on the phone with Grayson’s office manager, but her former foster brother claims she has a birthmark on her hand.”
Like in the video.
“Yes, like on the video tape.”
Breck had to have said it. She and Aidan weren’t in tune enough to predict each other’s thoughts. Well, in most cases.
“There was a plant in Dr. Grayson’s office like one Maria Walker gave Lana. According to Grayson, Jayleen has been studying it, trying to learn some of Maria’s tricks.”
The news came on, leading with the story about FBI secrets. Aidan motioned Lana to turn up the volume just as she reached for the remote. He continued talking with Breck while listening to the report. “News is on. Looks like they’ve cut Rose.”
“Hard to report from jail,” Lana mumbled.
“I suppose.”
Was he acknowledging something Breck said, or her? Probably Breck.
Aidan’s stare locked on her. Without looking, Lana felt its intensity as if it bored into her like a concrete drill bit—deep and persistent. Dividing her focus between Aidan’s conversation, the feel of his gaze on her and the news story angled to make the FBI look bad wasn’t easy. Hell, it was downright impossible with the news story being blown away beneath Aidan’s power.
“Soon it won’t matter. She’ll join the others.”
Lana hoped he was talking about Jayleen or even Rose. Oddly, she had the feeling he was talking about her. About them.
Chapter Twelve
“With at least one dead and another hospitalized there’s more to this case than the FBI or on-scene sources are saying.” The on-air reporter looked directly into the camera, trying to connect with viewers the way Lana did with her words. “We’ll keep you updated as details unfold.”
Aidan watched Lana and listened to the news report wrap-up while Breck updated him on the case. Maria’s condition was rapidly improving. Tyler was watching Jayleen’s place, but so far no one was home. Liam and Kieralyn were checking the places Dr. Grayson thought Jayleen might hide. Ava had gone to Dr. H for help with a headache she hadn’t expected after reading Maria.
“That’s not going to sit well with him,” Aidan mused. Dr. H didn’t like when Ava used her ability without him around. It was a protective instinct Aidan was growi
ng to understand more the longer he was with Lana.
“He’s coming around,” Breck countered. “Given what Whitestone put their agents through, and Dr. H when they captured him again, we can’t imagine growing up beneath their dominance.”
“Yeah.” It was a miracle anyone got accepted into Dr. H’s life. Then again, Ava’s life hadn’t been full of puppies and posies. Seeing how they’d overcome trust issues proved that love existed. For some.
Ian and Kieralyn.
Breck and Kami.
Dr. H and Ava.
Him and Lana? No way. No matter how much Kieralyn wanted differently, Aidan was not allowing that idea to take root.
Lana’s longing-laced gaze had watched the newscast. A smile had tugged at her mouth. As daring as she was, she didn’t dare allow herself to consider how much she’d enjoyed herself. How much she’d enjoy standing center frame more regularly.
He saw it though as clear as the pleasure flushing her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
“Did you enjoy your time in the spotlight?” he asked when he disconnected the call with Breck. The instant the words escaped the confinement of his lips he regretted them. Not because he felt they were untrue, but because he felt like an ass for throwing them in her face.
Lana looked up from her computer. Her eyes, normally expressive, seemed shielded. Secretive. Scary.
She was unpredictable. She fought when he expected compliance. Complied when he expected a fight. Yinned when he expected her to yang. Knocked him off balance when he thought he’d figured her out.
Without breaking her gaze sighted on him, she closed her laptop, rose from her chair, and slowly crossed the distance between her and his barstool. Her pelvis unwittingly thrust forward with each calculated step, teasing.
He leaned back a fraction, turned his head slightly away and watched her more from the corner of his eye than dead on. Control as cool as the calm she’d maintained at Maria’s ruled. Expectation of receiving a sharp palm to the cheek reared.
The expectation brought arousal.
Lana stopped by his barstool. She didn’t move, speak or offer a hint of her intent.
