Morgan chuckled, and Eli shook his head. Jeremiah just grinned. “I suspect that a plethora of loaded bookshelves are in our future—because I have a feeling you’re going to be accumulating more books than your new store will ever hold.”
“Maybe.” Nancy guessed it was time they learned and accepted the most important thing about her.
She was the most dedicated bookworm in the combined families.
* * * *
“I know you’re pissed.” Jim Compton got those words out the moment Eli and Jeremiah stepped into his office. He’d stood the moment they entered, and held his hands out, as if to ward off the shit that was about to hit his personal fan.
Eli had always known Jim had great survival instincts. He shook his head. “Pissed? We’ve gone miles beyond pissed. Imagine, for one moment, that asshole had told you part but not all of the way things were, and as a result of what you didn’t know, your wife Marilyn ended up facing a man with a gun.”
To his credit, Jim Compton sighed, and then rubbed his hands over his face. “I know. Fuck, I know.” He nodded toward his still-open door. Jeremiah closed it.
“Look, I didn’t know until you contacted us yesterday with word that you stopped Davies’s man that Travers suspected there was more to the situation than his contact revealed. But the key word was, he only suspected it.” Compton ran a hand through his hair. “Ever since last year, and the arrest of Templeton Marsh, the Department of Justice has been keeping an extra close eye on the US Attorneys. Personally, I think Travers skated right up to the line this time. But I don’t believe he crossed it.”
Eli vividly recalled the incident his boss had just cited. Marsh had more or less turned his back on the very real threat to one DEA Agent—Peter Alvarez—willing to sacrifice the man to his own ambitions.
“For the record, boss, it wasn’t us who stopped Uriah Stone,” Jeremiah said, “it was Nancy Jessop—and that, just as he raised his gun to kill her.”
“Son of a bitch.” Compton sat in his chair and shook his head. “I had no idea, guys. Seriously. When you sent those pictures over to us, I thought that was good enough—but Travers wasn’t content. He didn’t think being nailed for influence pedaling would be enough to get Davies out of the Senate. And really, the way Davies has been able to avoid being prosecuted, the man may have had a point.” He sighed, and looked over Eli’s shoulder, as if looking for the right words. “Travers has been like a dog with a bone for the last six months—but his obsession really started not long after Davies won election. I think it’s personal with him. I heard rumors…” Compton looked down at his hands, resting on his desk. “Davies is known to have stepped on a few people on his way to the top. One of the people he ruined—with manipulation, innuendo, and outright lies—was a close friend of Travers’s.”
“We know the thin line between wanting to do the job and personal feelings,” Jeremiah said.
“What we don’t know is if we can keep working for a Department of Justice that is light on justice and heavy on personal agenda.” Eli looked out the window onto the city below. He’d wanted to be an FBI agent since he’d been a kid. Jeremiah had felt the exact same way, and if it hadn’t been for the Bureau, they never would have met.
He believed in the rule of law, and he believed beyond that, there had to be a fundamental difference between the good guys and the bad guys. Those differences lay, not only in the goals and aspirations, but in methodology used to achieve those goals and aspirations.
Knowingly putting innocent citizens at risk for the so-called “greater good” did not match Eli’s sense of how the good guys were supposed to get the job done. And he knew Jeremiah felt the same way. If Travers came out of this without so much as a hard look from the powers that be, Eli really didn’t know if he—if they—could stay on.
“It would be asking us to compromise all we believe in,” Jeremiah said.
“I can’t guarantee that you won’t, sometime in the future, end up having to work on a case involving Travers.” Jim Compton clearly wasn’t happy about the ultimatum Eli and Jeremiah had delivered. “Not if you’re going to continue working out of the District. Unfortunately, politics is a very real player on this field of battle, gentlemen.” Compton shrugged. “Some of us are content to dedicate ourselves to being good cops. Some are more interested in climbing the ladder.”
Eli regretted giving Jim the edge of his anger. The man didn’t deserve it, not one bit. He exhaled and even offered his boss a smile. “If it’s any comfort to you, sir, my dad says it’s like that in the corporate world, too.”
Jeremiah laughed. “Get my dad to tell you some tales about the hallowed halls of academia sometime,” he said. “It’s human nature, and while it’s easy enough to acknowledge its existence, it becomes a bit more difficult to deal with when it gets personal.”
“No argument,” Jim said. “Listen, I’m under orders to accompany you to Attorney Travers’s office as soon as you arrive.”
“Well, then, let’s get this show on the road. I’m looking forward to getting back to Nancy.”
“I’m sure you are.” Compton got to his feet. “By the way, our deal still stands. You’ve got six weeks of vacation time racked up, and you’re free to use it all. Then you can take a leave of absence. When you’re ready to talk about what comes next, I’m available.”
“Appreciate that,” Eli said. He looked at Jeremiah. They weren’t certain what they were going to do, career wise. But they both felt the same way. Nancy needed to be a real part of that discussion.
She was the most important person in their world—hands down more important than their jobs.
They followed Jim Compton as he made his way out of his office, toward the area that held all the senior staff—including most of the US Attorneys.
Other than that video conference, neither Eli nor Jeremiah had ever met Norman Travers. Eli guessed he couldn’t blame a man for wanting to get ahead—or for wanting to get justice for a friend. But he could, and did, take issue when that man wanted to accomplish those goals at any cost.
“Does the air smell rarified here, or is it just me?” Jeremiah’s question, barely above a whisper, made Eli choke back on his laughter.
“Naw,” Compton said. “They would have opened a window and let the city air in, in anticipation of our arrival. You can’t let the lowly workers smell that stuff. They might get delusions of grandeur.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Eli said. “Besides, I’ve heard too much breathing in of that stuff turns you into an asshole.”
Of course, once they arrived, they had to cool their heels outside of Travers’s office. The middle-aged administrative assistant in her starched white blouse and severe updo that looked just as starched as her shirt gave nothing away in her expression. The nameplate on her desk informed anyone who cared to look that her name was B. Summers. Ms. Summers invited them to take a seat.
Eli understood the subtlety of the power play. Travers was, after all, a US Attorney, a busy man—Eli cut off the thought. I’m getting angry and cynical and I need to cool it.
He hoped there would be a moment to make his point, and he really hoped he’d be able to hang on to his professionalism sufficiently to make it in a reasonable, civilized way.
Otherwise he’d end up getting his ass fired. Eli wasn’t completely convinced that would be a bad thing.
The phone on Ms. Summers’s desk pinged, and she answered it quickly. She spoke so quietly Eli couldn’t hear her. She hung up and announced, “Mr. Travers will see you now, gentlemen.”
Eli felt like he was trapped in a bad movie.
He and Jeremiah followed Jim into Travers’s office. The man was rather nattily dressed, in a suit Eli recognized as being an Armani—his own father had several of them. He’d bet the man’s silk tie had cost him several hundred dollars. Clearly, he anticipated being before television cameras in the very near future.
“Gentlemen, congratulations on a successful operation.” Travers got to his
feet as they entered, but he didn’t offer to shake their hands.
Since Jim came to a stop in front of his desk, Eli and Jeremiah did the same.
“I understand Reese Davies’s coconspirator is in custody and, as I believed would happen, he’s given a full confession. Well done.”
“Oh, it’s not to our credit the man’s behind bars,” Jeremiah said.
“It isn’t?” The look on Travers’s face said it all. He clearly had no experience with someone not wanting to take the credit for a successful mission.
“No, it’s not. Ms. Jessop shot the bastard just as he turned his gun on her and was about to pull the trigger.”
“I see.” Travers sat down. “The woman was armed?”
It had to be one of the stupidest questions Eli had ever heard asked. Before he could even formulate an answer that didn’t end up calling Travers a stupid son of a bitch, Jeremiah stepped in, and laid his Kentucky accent on as thick as Eli had ever heard it.
“She’s a Texan woman. A man ought to know better than to mess with one of those.”
Eli grinned. “Apparently, Ms. Jessop didn’t believe us when we told her the danger to her was minimal.” Eli hadn’t said any such thing, but that was the sentiment Travers had implied during the video conference. “She took a moment to freshen up—and don a leg holster and her Walther PPK. Fortunately for her.”
“Well, I guess we could say that’s a fine example of the second amendment doing its job.” Travers nodded. “You have the jump drive?”
Eli pulled the device out of his pocket. It was in a sealed evidence bag, tagged appropriately by Lieutenant Corbett of the Waco Police Department.
“Excellent. I wanted to ensure there were no possible loop holes for Davies and his lawyers to squirm out of. I’m sure you’re busy, so I won’t delay you any further.”
Eli could have cared less about official credit for the case. He knew Jeremiah felt the same way.
But he didn’t factor in one very smart—and apparently well-connected—nonagenarian.
The door to Travers’s office opened, and the man practically jumped to his feet, likely ready to give a blast to whoever would dare to simply walk in, unannounced.
Eli turned to see who the new arrival was. Surprise swept through him when he recognized the man who strode in as if he owned the store.
“Sir! I was just about to call your office and ask for an appointment.” Travers looked very nervous to have the boss suddenly appear in his office.
“No doubt you were.” Attorney General Douglas Garret nodded to Jim. “Special Agent Compton, good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Attorney General. Good to see you again, too.”
“Introduce me to these two agents, please.”
“Of course, sir. This is Special Agent Eli Barton, and Special Agent Jeremiah Winthrop.”
Eli never thought to be shaking hands with the Attorney General of the United States. He saw Jeremiah was just as surprised.
The Attorney General motioned toward the small conference table to the left of them. “Let’s all sit down, and you can tell me all about your latest case, Norman.”
Since that had been an order, they all moved to the table. Eli bit back his laugh. This was a lot more involved than Travers apparently had wanted the three of them to be.
Once everyone was seated, the Attorney General said, “I’m especially interested in your reasoning for allowing a young woman—a citizen, and the granddaughter to one of my grandmother’s oldest friends—to stand in as bait.”
“It wasn’t really like that, sir.” Travers looked fit to be tied. Eli thought to sit back to enjoy the moment, but the Attorney General turned him. “Did I understand Kate Benedict correctly? She said her granddaughter, Nancy Jessop, had been tied up and still she managed to shoot Uriah Stone in the hand?”
“Yes, sir.” Eli couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice. “She didn’t want to kill him, just disarm him. She knew he’d waited until we arrived to make his move. We think the man planned for one of us to kill him, in order to save her.”
“And she managed to save him, instead.” Attorney General Garret sounded impressed. “Is Ms. Jessop interested in a position with the Bureau?”
“No, sir. She’s interested in opening a bookstore in her home town.”
“I see. It’s just as well. There’s no need for Kate to know I was interested in recruiting her granddaughter, by the way.”
“Our lips are sealed, sir,” Jeremiah said.
AG Garret smiled. “Good.” Then he focused his gaze on Norman Travers. “Tell me, Norman, did your contact tell you that Davies intended to have Ms. Jessop killed?”
“No, sir, he absolutely did not. I really thought Davies’ thug was just going to try and steal her cell phone.” Travers sighed. “My contact tends to be overly dramatic, so when he went into hyperbole, I really didn’t take it seriously. I knew one attempt had been made to steal the phone while the lady was still in the District. It made sense that Davies would want those photos—and since they hadn’t surfaced and he hadn’t had any agents knocking on his door, it was reasonable for him to assume that Ms. Jessop didn’t know exactly what she’d photographed.”
“That all sounds…reasonable.” Garret turned to Eli. “Special Agent Barton, does that sound reasonable to you?”
Eli understood what he was being asked, and he thought for a moment. The fact that the Attorney General of the United States had chosen to involve himself in this case told him that Travers was being reprimanded—after a fashion. It really was the best he and Jeremiah could have hoped for. Having drawn the boss’s scrutiny probably ensured Travers would be extra cautious from here on out.
Eli looked a Jeremiah and then answered the question, despite there being one more thing he wished he could address. “Yes, sir, it sounds reasonable.”
“I hear your unspoken ‘but’. Please, speak freely.”
“It sounds reasonable, but the man who burgled Nancy’s apartment was not Uriah Stone. She was quite positive about that. He was someone else—someone a fair bit taller, and younger than Stone.”
“It sounds as if you have an idea who that burglar could be.”
“Yes, sir, I do. Davies wasn’t the only man caught on camera breaking the law.”
“Well, then I suggest you and Special Agent Winthrop bring the gentleman in for questioning.”
Chapter 26
Nancy had only brought an overnight bag with her. Unpacking didn’t even take five minutes. She checked her cell phone for messages—Jeremiah had promised he’d let her know when they were on their way to the hotel.
She left their bedroom and strolled across the sitting room to get a look at the view of the nation’s capital out of the large picture window. Nancy had wondered if, once she’d removed herself from the city she’d called home for seven years, she’d be glad to be back.
While it had only been a little over a month since she’d left, she realized now that she didn’t miss the District, nor did she regret her decision to move home to Lusty.
In her heart of hearts she knew that she never would have opened herself to those two undercover cops if she’d stayed here. She’d adapted herself to life in the world outside of Lusty. But now that she could look back—now that she had returned home and had some time away from this place, she knew she’d never really been happy here.
She hadn’t cared about her personal happiness because she’d been doing work that had been important. But that phase of her life was over, and now it was time to dive into what came next.
Jordan was going to have a crew begin on the interior of her bookstore in a few weeks’ time, and she could hardly wait. She’d drawn up plans for her new business based on her own ideas, and on the conversations she’d had with Holly. Lusty’s new librarian was enthusiastic about a bookstore in town. They already had one of the best foundations for a good friendship. They both loved reading and books. Nancy’s thoughts strayed to other woman. There was
a kind of loneliness in Holly’s eyes. She wondered if there was something in her past that haunted her. Had she been jilted by a lover? Nancy had no idea if such was the case or not. But she bet Grandma Kate would get the woman to open up eventually.
In the meantime, Nancy thought it might be a good idea to take Kate’s advice, and get in touch with Roman James. He had a book store in Arlington, Virginia, just outside of the District.
Directory assistance provided the number, and in moments she had made arrangements to have coffee with the man right here at the hotel. Roman was already in the area—her call had been forwarded to his cell phone—and he said he’d be there in fifteen minutes. Morgan had told her not to leave, and she fully intended to do as he suggested. She would not step foot outside of the hotel. Okay, maybe I’m being a little loose with my interpretation of his orders, but I’m just going to go down to the coffee shop.
Morgan hadn’t come out of his room, and she suspected he was probably talking to Tamara on the phone. She nearly knocked on his door to tell him of her plans, but it occurred to her that they might not just be “talking.”
Nancy giggled. She’d never had phone sex. Maybe she’d see if her guys would be interested in trying that sometime.
She made a quick dash into the bathroom to make sure she looked presentable, and then grabbed a piece of the hotel stationery and jotted a quick note to Morgan. Maybe Eli and Jeremiah would be back soon. Since they were going to text her, perhaps she could meet them downstairs when they arrived.
The Carstairs had an elevator dedicated to the Penthouse floor. The doors opened as soon as she pressed the button. It occurred to her that she had no idea if anyone else was staying in either of the other two top-floor suites.
Nancy didn’t much care one way or the other about the amenities. Penthouse, regular room, it really didn’t matter to her. But the bedroom she’d grabbed for herself and her men did have a king-sized bed, which was as close as a person could get to a Jessop-sized bed outside of Lusty. That was the only thing she cared about.
Love Under Two Undercover Cops [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 25
