Pushing that thought out of her mind, she started a new thread, speaking in the baseball code they used. Looks like Cubs are on their way to another pennant. Can't make tomorrow's celebration. Anyone close enough to catch a game with me?
She signed off with her moniker Knight, in honor of Ray Knight, a third basement for the Mets the year they won the World Series. She'd picked his name because she fancied herself a knight. And since there weren't any females on the team, she and Parisa had been stuck with male names. Parisa had chosen Dwight Gooden, because she liked what a star he was and how much money he made.
Smiling to herself, she clicked out of the forum. She'd check it later to see if anyone responded. She wouldn't mind seeing a friendly face. The Chicago team had their own way of working, and while they were polite and professional, she'd felt a distinct tension when she'd told them about the ring on the kidnapper's finger.
No one, especially Tracy Cox, had liked that she'd broken the only lead. They also hadn't reacted well to her mention of the threatening phone calls, questioning whether they were really about this case. Tracy seemed to feel she was trying to make the case about her, which was ridiculous; she just wanted to find Hayley and catch the kidnapper and put him away for good.
Speaking of Tracy, she inwardly sighed as the assertive and critical agent in her late twenties sat down in the chair adjacent to her desk. Tracy had short blonde hair that was straight and angled and steel-blue eyes. Despite her attractive face, there was a hardness and a coldness to Tracy. She was smart, but she was also sharp, prickly, easily angered, and obsessed with protocol and policy.
"You should have called me regarding the information on Mr. Roberts before you went to his office," Tracy said. "We could have interviewed him together."
She could have done that, maybe should have done that, but she was used to tracking down leads on her own. And she and Tracy had never worked well together. "I wanted to catch him before his wife gave him the heads-up," she said. They hadn't talked about their past relationship, and she was hoping to avoid that by sticking to the case.
"But that didn't happen."
"Unfortunately, not," she admitted.
"Do you really like him for this?" Tracy asked. "Kyle Roberts is a very successful, well-connected man, with top-level connections in the city, and he's never been in any trouble."
"That's true. But the fact that Hayley didn't struggle, and Grace identified the ring on the kidnapper's hand as looking like the one her father wears, I thought it was worth having a conversation with him."
"Well, you won't be speaking to Mr. Roberts again," Tracy said, unable to hide the note of satisfaction in her voice. "We've had a complaint from his attorney. He says you have a conflict of interest, and if you attempt to contact his client again, he'll bring charges of harassment."
"Excuse me?" she asked in surprise.
"Mr. Roberts said that you know his wife and brother-in-law. That you're going after him to avenge some problem you had with his wife years ago."
"That's ridiculous. I followed up on what his own daughter told me."
"But it would have been helpful if you'd taken one of us with you, or even called us as soon as you got the information, in light of the fact that you apparently have a relationship with our only witness's family. You conveniently left that out of your briefing."
"It wasn't relevant, and I haven't had a relationship with the witness's family in over a decade. I knew Mr. Roberts's wife and brother-in-law when I was in my teens. But I didn't even realize Josie Roberts was the Josie Bishop I knew until I went to interview her daughter Grace."
"What problem did you have with Mrs. Roberts?"
"She stole some money and jewelry from me. She was a teenager and a drug addict at the time."
"Did you press charges?"
"No. Look, it was not that big of a deal. She gave some of it back to me, and I'm certainly not carrying out some personal vendetta."
"I would hope not, but Agent Hobbs asked me to let you know that while we appreciate the insight you bring to this case, you won't be doing any further interviews with potential suspects or witnesses unless one of us is with you."
"He's benching me?"
Tracy shrugged. "Call it whatever you like. You can still be helpful, of course. But we'll take the lead; we'll do the field work. You find clues, bring them to me. We want to work with you, but we're also much more versed in the minefield of Chicago politics than you are. If you make a wrong move, this agency risks alienating people, who might be instrumental in finding this child."
"I grew up here, Tracy. I understand Chicago politics. And I am the one who got Grace to remember something," she couldn't help adding.
"Good job on that," Tracy said with a complete lack of sincerity.
"Do we need to talk about Quantico?" she asked.
"Why would we need to talk about the academy?"
"Because if anyone seems to be holding a grudge, it's you."
"You think I've given you even one thought over the last five years?" she asked incredulously. "I've been busy building my career, and I've done that on my own, unlike you, who still seems to be getting into trouble with your gang of friends."
"You're talking about New York, about Damon and Wyatt."
"And Alan Parker, our fearless mentor at Quantico, who turned out to be a double agent. That was quite remarkable. And amazing that you and Damon and Wyatt were all taken in by him. You thought he was so fantastic."
"Alan changed over the years," she said, trying not to rise to Tracy's bait. "And the only reason you hated our gang, as you liked to call it, is because you weren't one of us."
"I didn't want to be one of you. You relied too much on each other. A good agent should be able to think and act completely independently."
"Teamwork can also be effective."
Tracy shrugged. "We can agree to disagree." She got to her feet. "I heard about Jamie Rowland's memorial celebration. Is Diego going to that?"
"He was invited, but I don't know if he's going. Last I heard he was in Ecuador." She gave Tracy a thoughtful look, remembering how interested in Diego she'd always been. "Have you stayed in contact with Diego?"
"No. I haven't stayed in contact with anyone." She paused. "I'd appreciate it if you would keep me updated on any leads you stumble upon."
"Of course," she said, very aware that Tracy thought her break in the case was pure accidental luck. But she didn't care. She wasn't looking for credit, only answers. She was, however, relieved when Tracy walked away.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was past five. She'd never been one to leave the office early, but it had been a very long day. She decided to head back to her hotel and work from there.
She'd just gotten into her hotel room when the phone rang. She was relieved to see it was Dan. She could use a friendly voice. "Checking up on me?"
"I hear you're causing problems in Chicago. I had no idea you ever lived there. Why didn't you mention it?" he asked.
"It wasn't a happy time in my life. Who did you speak to?"
"Hobbs. He asked me if you were a loose wire that needed to be cut."
"What did you say?"
"That you're one of the smartest and most intuitive agents I've ever worked with, and he'd be a fool not to listen to you."
"Thanks, I appreciate that. But at the moment, I seem to be benched. Apparently, he is a fool," she said dryly.
"He's trying to keep a lot of people happy."
"Keeping people happy is not my concern. Finding one ten-year-old girl is. We both know Hayley doesn't have a lot of time. And it's frustrating not to be able to just run my investigation the way it needs to be run."
"Are they making mistakes, missing things?"
"I wouldn't say that. They're following all the protocols we follow, but it's just not enough, at least not for me."
"I get it. You work better from the front."
"I do," she admitted, knowing that was one reason why she liked workin
g with Dan; he respected her need to cross boundaries when necessary.
"You want my advice, Bree?"
"Always."
"Do what you do. That kid needs you at your best. Sort out the politics later."
She appreciated his words, because Hayley was the only one who mattered right now. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"Good. Now tell me something else."
"What?" she asked warily.
"What's the deal with this family you're at odds with? They're related to your eyewitness?"
"Yes. Josie is the mother. Josie's husband Kyle is a person of interest. And Nathan Bishop is the child's uncle. Josie and Nathan and I knew each other as kids."
"Got it. Hobbs said you have a grudge against one of them."
"Which is a complete fabrication created by Kyle's lawyers. A long time ago, Josie stole some stuff from me. But it wasn't that big of a deal. We were street kids, Dan. We met at a time when we were all in survival mode."
"You were a street kid?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about it."
"You really want to hear all this now?"
"Considering how concerned the Chicago team is about you, I think I need to hear it."
"It's really not relevant, but here are the highlights. My mother had me when she was sixteen. She didn't know who my father was or if she did, she didn't tell me. Her father, my grandfather, was a widowed military man, and he threw her out of the house when she came home pregnant. My mom had a lot of trouble taking care of me. She had problems with drugs, problems with relationships. We were broke. We were homeless. Sometimes, we lived in shelters. Eventually, my mom died of an overdose when I was ten. I went to live with my aunt then, who was not in much better shape than my mom. When I was fourteen, I ended up in foster care, and that's where I stayed until I aged out."
"That is a much rougher story than I was expecting."
"I survived, and it made me tougher. Anyway, there's no deal with Nathan and Josie. In fact, it was actually good to see them. I wasn't sure they'd make it. But they did. They're doing well."
"So are you."
"Most days, except today, when I managed to piss off the entire Chicago office."
"Only because you were better than them."
"Thanks, Dan. You always know what to say."
"Tell my wife that. She says I have a great talent for sticking my foot in my mouth."
"But she adores you. How is her pregnancy coming along?"
"She's doing all right now. But she's making a lot of noise about me being around more when the baby is born."
"Would you quit the team?" she asked, hoping that wouldn't be the case but completely understanding if it was. Getting called out at a moment's notice was easier when you weren’t leaving behind a family.
"I'm thinking about it," he admitted. "But nothing is decided. If I do change things up, you'd be a good leader for this team."
"I don’t even want to think about taking your job."
"Well, you don't have to. Just find that little girl and that monster before he strikes again."
* * *
Thursday morning, Nathan hit the pavement just before seven, putting in a good six miles along the river, hoping each pounding step would drive thoughts of Bree out of his head. But it didn't work. He couldn't stop thinking about her.
She'd changed her last name from Larson to Adams. She'd changed her demeanor, too, not nearly as soft and kind and insecure as she'd once been. Now, she was a strong, determined, federal agent doing one of the hardest jobs in the world. And he found himself liking her more, which was exactly the opposite of the way he wanted to feel.
He'd spent far too much time in his life liking Bree, lusting after her, thinking she might finally wake up one day and see him, instead of every other idiot guy chasing after her.
She'd told him last night that he'd changed when they reconnected in high school after a few years apart. That was true. A lot had happened in those years that she hadn't known anything about—still didn't know anything about—and he hadn't been able to tell her.
But it wasn't just his secrets that had pushed them apart; it was realizing how much he wanted her when she clearly did not want him.
Instead, she'd chosen Johnny Hawke, the oldest of three boys born into a criminal family that ran a boxing gym as a front for their gambling and drug business.
Johnny was funny, charming, a talker who liked to flash his cash and his car in a part of town where that kind of money came with a lot of power. Bree had gotten caught up in Johnny's world. And for a short time, he had as well, mostly because he'd wanted to stay close to Bree, not because he'd wanted to hang with Johnny.
Frowning, he picked up his pace, trying to outrun the past, but that was going to be impossible with Bree in town. He'd already checked the news upon waking up, and Hayley was still missing, which meant Bree wasn't going anywhere.
He didn't know if she was truly done with Kyle; he hoped so—for Josie's sake. But there was nothing more he could do about it. He needed to keep his distance from Bree and from the past. When he ran out of path, he turned around and headed home. He'd just entered his apartment, when his phone rang. It was Adrienne.
Good. He needed a reminder that he had a different life now.
"Adrienne."
"You didn't call me back last night," Adrienne complained, a little whine in her voice that was starting to grate on him.
"Sorry. I was hanging with Josie." That wasn't really true. He had spoken to Josie again after the incident at Kyle's office, but he'd spent the rest of the night at home watching the Cubs and trying not to think about Bree.
"Is Grace okay?" Adrienne asked.
"She's hanging in there, but it's a bad situation."
"I'm sorry. I know you have a lot on your mind, but my college friend, Kari, is in town tonight. I really want you to meet her. Can you come to dinner or drinks after?"
None of that sounded appealing. "Maybe drinks," he hedged. "Can I call you later?"
"Sure. I just miss you, Nathan. It doesn't seem like we're seeing each other too often these days. I want to get back on track."
"We will," he muttered, feeling like the biggest asshole when he hung up the phone. He hadn't given Adrienne one single thought since he'd run into Bree.
It was ridiculous. He should be over Bree by now. Hell, he should have been over her twelve years ago—fifteen years ago. He didn't know what it was about her that stuck with him…
Actually, he did know.
It was the girl he'd met when he was thirteen, who'd captured his heart. Her smile had felt like the sun coming out after a relentless series of storms. Her friendship had been sweet and generous. They'd whiled away the hours watching silly cartoons and then being ruthlessly competitive at card games.
They'd roamed the city streets, made up stories of how great their lives were going to be one day, pretending that the reality they were actually living would one day completely vanish.
She'd been his escape. And he'd been hers. But then life had gotten in the way.
Years had passed.
When they came back together, everything was different.
And then there was Johnny.
He'd thought she'd come out of her crush eventually. He'd thought she'd wake up much sooner than she had.
But then there was her secret, which had become his secret, too.
Shaking his head, he jumped into the shower. Running hadn’t worked; maybe some ice-cold water would at least dull the memories.
Five
She was not cut out for desk work, Bree thought, as she sat through another briefing Thursday morning and then watched various agents head out the door to chase down leads in Hayley's case. After spending three hours reviewing surveillance videos near Hayley's school, answering the lead line, and running through the Cubs' list of ring owners, she was feeling frustrated and restless.
She was at her best when she was in the field. She was good at engaging
people in conversation, at reading witnesses, at assessing situations. Dan had told her to do what she did and worry about the politics later. She needed to follow his advice.
Plus, sitting around the office was giving her way too much time to think about Nathan.
It had been so strange seeing him the day before. And their conversation outside of Kyle's office had been surprising on a lot of levels.
She felt guilty that Nathan had taken a beating for her. She'd forced him into helping her, so the fact that he'd also been hurt made her feel terrible. Now, she had a better understanding of why he'd been so angry when he'd first seen her, why he hadn't been able to answer a simple question as to whether they were friends or enemies or just people who used to know each other.
Obviously, he had very mixed feelings when it came to her. How could she blame him? She'd brought him into her crisis, gotten him hurt, and then never talked to him again. No wonder he'd thought she was selfish and made bad choices.
But she was different now. And seeing him again reminded her of the good times before all the bad stuff, the times when they had been the best of friends. They had had fun together. They had laughed and talked and dreamed together.
That connection had been broken when she'd gone into foster care and had had to live farther away. Three years had passed before she made it into the same high school as Nathan and by then everything had changed.
Well, it didn't matter now. She was happy he'd gotten his life together, that he was building houses and that his sister had a family who loved her.
She was also glad she'd come back a better person. At least, Nathan could see that she'd changed, improved, and turned her life around. His help had not been for nothing. She wished that she'd told him that the day before.
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