She turned to Zach and stopped short. They were practically nose to nose, close enough for him to hear her draw in a sharp breath.
Molly pushed out of her chair, pacing away from him. “Grace, Jason knows he’s leavin’ us in the lurch. It’d mean a lot to him to come over and thank you for helpin’ and for keepin’ an eye on me while he’s gone.”
“Well,” Grace drew out the syllable. “We couldn’t take up your whole night. How’s about six thirty? Then you can spend the rest of the evenin’ together.”
Molly again turned to Zach for guidance. Grace would pick a time convenient for her, but how pushy could they be? He urged Molly to finish up.
“Fantastic. Thank you so much, Grace. This means the world to Jason. And to me.” They said their goodbyes, and Molly ended the call.
“Impressive.” Zach held out his arms for a celebratory hug.
Molly seemed — or pretended — not to notice. “You’d better believe it.”
He lowered his arms before it got awkward. Well, more awkward. He needed to defuse that. Humor was always a good choice. “At this rate, you’ll be a real FBI agent in no time.”
She flinched and slowly turned to him. Pain filled her eyes. “Zachary.” Her voice held a hush of hurt, like he’d just slaughtered her puppy in front of her. “Can’t you hear yourself?”
Wait, what did he do this time? “No, Molly.” He took hold of her shoulder, but she jerked out of reach. He tried again. “I was teasing.”
“Every time we talk about me as an agent?”
Had he done that before? “No, I just want to protect you.”
That didn’t help. “From what? My job?”
His mouth fell open. What was wrong with that? Did she want him to leave her hanging? Let her die?
Apparently. Molly snatched up her purse. “Don’t worry about me, so. I’ll be takin’ that job in Phoenix.” She marched away.
“Molly, wait.” He started after her.
She turned back with a chopping gesture, cutting off his pursuit. “See you tomorrow night,” she snapped.
He opened his mouth to protest again, but the only words that came to mind would surely make it worse: you need me. I want to be there. You can’t do it on your own.
Zach watched her stride away. Even trying to compliment her was backfiring.
As slowly as possible, he headed for the elevator lobby, but Molly was still there, waiting. Knowing his luck, they’d end up stuck in the elevator together.
He took a detour for the water fountain. He hadn’t even taken a sip when Kent walked out of the restroom.
“Oh, hey,” Kent said, like he’d been meaning to talk to Zach.
“Yeah?”
“Molly’s something, huh?”
“‘Something’?”
“Yeah — she works all her cold cases and half of mine. She’s only been here six weeks, and she’s practically got a network set up. You know she has a bachelor’s in applied policing and master’s in international studies?”
She did? Oh, yeah, he knew that. Garda College and then DePaul. How had he forgotten that about someone he’d planned to marry? “You’re pretty attached.”
Kent held up two backing-off-now palms. “No worries, man. Definitely not stepping on your turf. Just trying to give a great agent her props.”
Props? Was it 1997 day? “You know, most guys only geek out this hard over electronics and sports.”
Kent snorted. “Even if I were geeking out, I’m not so insecure that I can’t recognize when someone’s awesome at their job.”
Insecure?
Kent strolled away, and this time, Zach hung back to avoid taking an elevator with him. Waiting proved to be for the best when the doors to the next car opened, revealing President — SAC Evans. He nodded to Zach. “Saint.”
“Agent Evans.” He boarded the elevator.
The doors closed. “So, did you have fun with Tessa last weekend?”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
President Evans smiled. “She’s always been a hit with our kids. We don’t get to see her often enough. Such a drive from North Carolina.”
“Yeah, definitely a trip.”
“Though I’m sure she’d make it again if there was a good reason.”
Zach resisted the urge to roll his eyes. SAC Evans couldn’t think he was being subtle — tough to get anywhere in the FBI with that sense of nuance. “That what she told you?” He was careful to keep the skepticism in his tone to a minimum.
The elevator slowed for their stop. “Not in so many words, but she was pretty impressed by what you did for your sister.”
Zach shrugged. “I wanted to make sure we all had a good time — Lucy’s getting over a tough breakup.” And as the end of the evening made obvious, so was he.
Molly was moving to Phoenix, and here was SAC Evans to remind him it wasn’t too late to go after Tessa.
Of course it was. Besides, she deserved better than a guy permanently on the rebound.
Evans stepped off the elevator with a goodbye nod.
Wait. Molly was moving to Phoenix because an Assistant Special Agent in Charge wanted her. What if Zach convinced a Special Agent in Charge to match the offer?
Zach followed the SAC. “Agent Evans?”
He turned back. “Yes?”
“I wanted to report on the case I’m working on.”
The SAC furrowed his brow. “Afraid I’m not current with the details —”
Zach held up a hand to cut off the diplomatic version of I don’t keep tabs on every case. “I mean the other agent I’m working with — Special Agent Mary Malone.” Or did Molly use her nickname as her Bureau name? How could he have no idea what name used at work?
“Everything going okay?”
“Better than okay. I kind of inserted myself into this case, and she’s had to go undercover and put up with me, while balancing a full case load in counterintel.”
SAC Evans surveyed him sagely. “You make her sound good.”
Like someone SAC Evans would personally beg to stay in Chicago?
Not yet, and he was running out of ammo. What else had Kent said? “She’s going above and beyond on all her cases — she’s been helping me with surveillance, working her squad’s cold cases and cultivating good assets.”
“Be sure to write this up. Even if it doesn’t get her a commendation, it’ll sound good in her file.” He narrowed his eyes in a knowing expression. “Are you bringing this up just because you’re impressed?”
Now what? Lay the whole pathetic story on the line? Please, President Evans, beg her to stay in Chicago so I have a chance, because she won’t listen to me?
Yeah. Persuasive. “She’s important. To the Bureau.” Zach looked away. SAC Evans wouldn’t be put off the trail with that act.
“Keep your personal feelings out of the case and the file.”
“Yes, sir.” Zach bid SAC Evans goodbye and headed for his car. Maybe he still had time, if he got that write up in quick, and made sure SAC Evans saw it. Maybe Kent should write it up. Or he and Kent could both do it, and he’d say whatever he had to to make sure the Bureau was impressed whether Molly was the ex-girlfriend he was fighting for or just another agent.
Either way, they’d only work together until they finished this case. Which might mean tomorrow night was his last shot to change her mind.
And their last shot to stop the Canavans.
Two days. No, forty-three hours. Grace tried not to pace around the coffee table. Ed was only an hour late from work. The door crept open, and Grace reminded herself not to pounce on her husband. “What took you so long?”
Ed tapped his temple. As if he had anything in that empty head of his. “Workin’ late, curryin’ favor.” He joined her on the sofa, sketching a map over the coffee table. “Patoka.” He labeled the street running by the car park of the warehouse. “Riverbend.” He drummed his pencil on the cross street.
“And DontRain.” She touched the rectangle by the car park.
“Right. Here’s the receivin’ bay with a ramp — where you’d be wantin’ your car.”
“What security do they have in the warehouse?” Pearse interjected. “Is that bay door alarmed?”
“It’s mildly surprised.”
Grace stared at Ed a long moment. A pun? No Yeats quote?
Ed pressed on. “Infrared sensor, but I think from lookin’ at it, the sensor could be compromised easily. Flip it upside down or loosen one screw. Doubt there’s a secondary alarm.”
Grace fired a glare at her husband. “Famous last words. Are there cameras? Remote access? Motion sensors?”
Ed floundered a moment.
“Time for Eddie Shore to worry about his ‘job security.’ You only have one day at work to do this, you know yourself.”
“Of course I do. ‘Hunger fiercely after truth.’”
They had to know everything about this warehouse before they went in. Nothing left to chance.
Molly pivoted to walk another round of her building’s lobby, shifting the parcel of soda bread from hand to hand. She’d only taken the time to stop by her favorite bakery, load up her handbag with the emergency essentials and wrap the bread in a kitchen towel, so she was half an hour early.
This was it. All the other assignments, all the other meetings with Grace and Ed had led up to tonight. If Donal was to be believed, they had one final chance to avert whatever the Canavans were planning. Tonight was her chance to prove herself to Zachary and everyone else at the FBI.
Most of all, tonight was their last chance to get it right — and save dozens or even hundreds of lives. To stop another Omagh.
Molly checked the time again: quarter of six. Where was Zachary? Not that she was looking forward to an evening with him outside of work, not after the hames she’d made of everything between them.
With each step, she repeated her objectives: bring up Uncle Teague. Speak in Irish. Condemn Fine Gael. Get in on the plan.
After another circuit of the lobby, each goal was burned into her brain. She made sure she had her ring, the gaudy thing, and when she glanced up, Zachary was walking toward her. Under his jacket, he wore a navy sweater she’d given him — and looked every bit as good in it as she remembered.
Instantly, the tension building in her muscles relaxed a few ratchets. She released a sigh. Did it have to feel so good to see him?
He used to love her. Why couldn’t he respect her?
Thinking like that wouldn’t help either of them. He simply didn’t. That was why she needed to cut her losses and tell ASAC Chin she’d accept the job in Phoenix. Soon.
She flashed Zachary a tight smile. “Ready?”
“Almost.” Was it her, or was he standing very close to her?
“Everythin’ all right?”
Zachary pondered her face for a moment. “I want . . .”
Molly searched his eyes, filled with yearning. Could he possibly want what she wanted?
What she wanted was to hear respect from him, the basic level of regard he’d give to anyone else in the Bureau. And that was never going to happen.
Zachary broke their gaze and started again. “I wanted to remind you how important tonight is.”
Did he think she was such a rookie that she didn’t know that? But work needed to come first. “I assure you, Agent Saint, I fully appreciate that.”
“Good. So we’re clear, we can’t break cover until we have enough not just to arrest them, but to stop whatever they’re planning.”
“Understood. And if we don’t find anythin’ tonight?”
“We keep investigating.”
Obviously. “Ready, so?”
Zachary checked his mobile. “You want to get there twenty minutes early?”
“I do. We’ll catch them off-guard.”
“Right. Good thinking.” He stayed there, still closer than anyone else should’ve been, for another minute of silence. “Molly —”
His ringing phone interrupted him. Supreme frustration flickered to his face, and Zachary pulled out his mobile. “Sorry,” he said to Molly. “This’ll only take a minute.” He answered, “Hello? . . . I guess.” He mouthed, “Two minutes,” and turned away to wander into the lounge off the entry. Xavier calling with details?
Before she could think of another excuse, the glass doors to the street swooped open again, and in walked Nate. Molly shifted the bread to her right hand and slid her left, with the impossible-to-miss engagement ring, into her pocket. “Hi, Nate,” she said. Assuming he was here to see her.
He came to a stop between her and the stairs to the lounge. “Hey.” His tone matched his expression: flat, resigned, but trying to make the best of this.
She tried for a sympathetic smile. “How’re you doin’?”
“Hanging in there.”
“Good to hear.”
Nate nodded slowly. They stood there in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. Molly checked over his shoulder. She could hear Zachary in the background, not close enough to make out the conversation, but she couldn’t see much of the lounge. Nate had better make this quick.
Nate heaved a great sigh. “I just wanted to tell you,” he began, but stopped haltingly.
She tried to maintain a sympathetic expression — but movement behind Nate caught her attention. Zachary. Coming up the lounge steps.
“I think I understand what you meant,” Nate finished.
“And I think you’re an idiot,” Zachary’s voice carried from behind Nate.
Nate spun toward him, as did Molly. Did he mean — oh. He was still on the phone. “But if you’re happy,” Zachary said. He met Molly’s gaze, his face grim, before he spotted Nate. Something almost imperceptible shifted in his eyes and the corners of his mouth, but he seemed . . . angry. “Gotta go, Luce. Good luck.” He put his mobile away. “How’s it going, Nate?”
“Funny how we keep running into one another.”
“When Molly’s around.” Zachary gestured in her direction. “She’s helping me with some case files.”
Nate raised an eyebrow. “You’re with the FBI, too?”
“State Department.” Zachary walked past Nate to stand by Molly, a step or two closer than a business acquaintance would. “Good thing you reintroduced us; we’re making a lot of progress together.”
Nate clenched his jaw. Silence settled awkwardly on them, with Molly between the two men she couldn’t be with.
“Sorry to cut this short.” But Zachary’s grin was more like sorry not sorry.
Molly looked at the lobby clock. Nearly six. She didn’t dare check Nate’s reaction. “We do have work.”
“Sure. Guess we’re done anyway.” Nate nodded to each of them. Zachary subtly took her elbow, but Molly tugged free.
She was sure Zachary was planning on driving, but she wasn’t about to walk out of here with him in front of Nate. They’d take her car, then. She led the way to the elevators, without looking back to watch Nate. She couldn’t.
As soon as the lift doors closed, Molly whirled on Zachary. “Why’d you do that?”
“What was I supposed to do? Announce our ‘double date’?”
“That wasn’t much better.” The elevator reached the garage, and she strode off, toward her car.
Zachary followed to her green Jetta. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have taken the call — just, Lucy . . .”
She would’ve answered for Lucy as well, with all she was going through. Molly gave him an all right, all right nod and got in the car.
Zachary restarted the conversation as soon as he was buckled. “She got back together with Paul.”
No. “What?” How could that go better a second time around?
“Said it hurt too much to be apart.” He rolled his eyes. He would. “Stupid.”
Molly scowled at him. Apparently sympathy was too much to ask. “Hey, she’s hurtin’, and they still love each other.”
“People do stupid things for love. Especially when they’re hurting.” They stopped for a red light,
and Zachary’s gaze locked on hers. “Prolonging it only hurts more. Trust me.”
“I don’t have to. You made sure of that.”
Strained silence stole her breath — or was it Zachary’s eyes, a mix of yearning and anger?
She looked away, realizing the light had turned green. She hit the gas, and they stared straight ahead in a silence as hard as stone.
She’d lost him. Again. Two weeks ago, he wanted to try again — or wanted to kiss her. Now, she was finally ready to admit the truth: she wanted to marry Zachary Saint.
But Zachary still saw her as a civilian he needed to protect. He didn’t know who she really was any more than Nate had.
Molly parked outside the Canavans’ building, and Zachary got out of the car first. He tried to get her door, but she was already standing by the time he offered his hand. “Are you ready to do this one more time?”
To do . . . what? To start over with Zachary? Molly studied his hand, then his expression.
Yes. She was ready. But he wasn’t ready for her.
He folded his arms against the cold. “Sorry. I know. Boundaries.”
Now that was something stupid she’d done because she was hurting. Molly fetched the soda bread, and they started for the Canavans’.
“Listen,” Zachary said. “With our story tonight, and the deadline — there’s a good chance this is our last shot together. If we don’t find what we need, you’ll be on your own.”
“I know.” Molly cautiously checked his eyes, but she couldn’t see discouragement. Did he finally see she was just as capable as any other FBI agent?
“Sure you can handle this alone?” A double layer of doubt coated his question, slamming into those rising hopes like a lead weight.
“Meanin’ you think I can’t.”
Zachary held up both hands defensively. “I just want to keep you safe. What is so wrong with that?”
Molly drew close enough to whisper. “You goin’ to hover over me every day at work? I so wanted a nanny.”
He gaped at her. How did he not understand that she deserved the basic respect he’d pay to any other agent? Molly shook her head and took the lead into the building. She’d show him, and then she’d let him go. Forever.
Saints & Suspects Page 25
