by Janet Dailey
“Mike.” He paused. “I don’t work for you.”
“No, you don’t. But we have to work together.” The lieutenant eased down in his chair, stretching out his legs. “I’m really glad we’re having this talk.”
Patronizing comment. Linc wished he hadn’t invited Mike in, even though he liked the guy. He just hadn’t been expecting a lecture. To be fair, he’d given Mike an opening. The man wasn’t wrong.
“You mentioned video footage.”
Linc thought back. He had. Throw him a bone, he told himself. Then you can get back to the SKC stuff.
Or better yet, lie down. The hard workout with Kenzie was still echoing in his muscles. Or maybe it was the brief moment of physical reconnection between them at the park that was doing that.
“Linc?”
He came back to his senses. “Uh, yeah. The reporter on the scene, Gary Baum, was very helpful. But like I said, the footage isn’t that clear.”
“Let’s look at it anyway.”
“I figured the other driver might’ve come back, so I concentrated on that activity around the accident and after.”
“Sometimes they do.” Mike Warren straightened up in his chair.
“You want to see it?”
“Yes.”
Linc pushed the SKC laptop aside and moved to his own, booting it up. “The driver that stopped is—well, take a look at his car yourself. I didn’t see any damage.”
He showed Mike the freeze-frames from the video and then let the footage run in slo-mo, then at normal speed.
The lieutenant got up and dragged his chair over to the table, sitting in front of the laptop. “Can I see the first part again?”
“Here ya go.” Linc remained standing, reaching out to tap the keys. “What do you think of this guy? You didn’t say.”
“The one in sunglasses?”
“There’s something about him. Can’t say what exactly. Half the time he’s turned away or his face is in shadow. Then that cop has to go and stand in front of him.”
Mike didn’t seem to care. “Look at that. You got a nice clear shot of the back of the car. Can you enlarge it?”
“Sure.” Linc tapped a key for a close-up. “Notice the leaves on the license plate? Probably glued on.”
Mike shook his head. “I was checking out the tires.”
Linc swallowed a fly. He knew what Mike was getting at. Hadn’t occurred to him.
“Go bigger. And bigger than that.”
Linc clicked the Command key and the plus sign several times. The tread pattern filled the screen.
“Very interesting,” Mike said. “Could be identical to the tread marks from the second car that pulled over under the maples.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Linc muttered.
“Well, I do have to check this freeze-frame against the tread photos from yesterday. Routine. For a detective. I was good at it. That’s why I made lieutenant, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
Mike chuckled. “Now, if you could do the same thing for the front right fender—that’s it. Great. A little closer.”
He peered at the image. “I’m seeing evidence of a dent there. It doesn’t take much of a hit to make another car swerve out of control. He could have pulled over to bang out the worst of it.”
Linc grudgingly conceded the point. “But the finish looks okay.”
Mike put his index finger on an imaginary nozzle. “Shpzzz. Spray paint. Black on black. Who’s going to notice?”
“I should have.”
“You got the footage, pal. Good work. We make a great team.”
Linc could hear his father’s voice in his head. Don’t ever think you have nothing to learn.
“Can you copy it for me, Linc?”
“Sure.” He had some blank discs left over from making the photo CDs for Mrs. Corelli. “Maybe you’ll find something else I missed.”
It only took a few minutes. Mike didn’t talk, just watched.
“Should be useful,” he said when the CD ejected. “Solid evidence like this is what we need. As far as the guy in sunglasses, he’s going to be tough to ID. He could be wearing a rug, you know.”
“Have to ask Kenzie on that. Women can spot fake hair from a mile away,” Linc said.
“Even if she did, eyewitnesses get things wrong. Best to get something that can be scientifically proved to have come from the individual, something unique. Fingerprints are still good. DNA is even better.”
“The creep’s ahead of us,” Linc pointed out. “He doesn’t even lick his envelopes.”
Mike sighed. “Let’s see what I can find out about the tire tracks.” He put his notebook and the CDs in an outside pocket. “Thanks. Sorry if I interrupted you. Looked like you were working.”
“I never stop.”
“Keep it up.” The lieutenant clapped him on the arm and left, closing the door behind him.
Linc headed for an armchair, wishing he could stop. His cell phone rang. He couldn’t ignore it.
He looked at the screen, not recognizing the area code or the number. What the hell. Maybe he’d just won a cruise or a couple of free daiquiris at the local tiki bar.
“Hello.”
“Guess who this is. Guess where I am.”
Deke. Linc heard reggae music thumping in the background.
“You there, Linc?”
“Yes.”
“Did you guess?”
The music got louder. Deke hummed along with it. Linc wondered if the brunette from the wedding was there with him.
“No idea,” Linc said.
“I’m at a top-secret location in the Caribbean at a highly classified party. Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here. What are you doing?”
“Working hard. Knock yourself out.” Linc hung up on him.
Linc cracked the door of Office 25, prepared to be chewed out by Chet York, the nominal head of the project he was supposed to be working on.
Unless he got lucky.
If his CO, Dana Scott, had sent Chet to a far corner of Fort Meade for the day, Linc had nothing to worry about. She’d cleared Linc to work off the base in the first place.
Dana firmly believed that tech wizards needed time off now and then to keep their heads from exploding. She should know. She was married to one.
He opened the door all the way.
“Hey, Dana.” He gave her a huge smile.
“Come on in.” She didn’t look up. “Don’t tell me where you’ve been. It doesn’t matter.” She pulled up a document that he recognized. He had coded it. Dana pointed to the screen. “Nice work. Where are you going with this?”
He told her, and added a few brilliant suggestions for improving his contribution that made her smile back. Finally.
It took him an hour to get around to the most important reason for his return.
“You want more time off?” She pushed the laptop away and made full eye contact. Dana didn’t do that often.
He explained why, down to the last little bit of information. Dana Scott lived and breathed information. She liked data she could really crunch, just for the sheer pleasure of crunching.
“SKC, huh? The name came up in a meeting at the agency. But I didn’t hear anything about defective gear.”
Linc explained more. He’d cobbled together PDFs and documents to add substance to his formal request to proceed. Chet York would have asked for the file and stuck it in his in-box. Dana Scott actually read everything in it with blinding speed.
“Not much to go on, Linc,” she said after a pause. “You need to run some tests on a statistically significant sample.”
Those were her favorite words. Dana liked data but she loved statistics.
He told her how much one vest would cost. No discount for buying in bulk. Not sold in stores. He didn’t want SKC to know that he was a designated secret shopper for the government.
She did the math and sat back. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. It’s a lot
of money, I know.”
“For cripes sake,” Dana groaned. “Where am I going to hide an expense like that? I’ve got a congressional committee that wants to play Twenty Questions with me, and I have to justify every nickel we spend on Project 25. This has nothing to do with it.”
“I need a new identity too.”
Dana scowled at him. “It isn’t Halloween yet. And Bob and Betty Taxpayer don’t want to foot the bill for your cute costume.”
“This is important. Maybe more important than Project 25.”
Dana read through his formal request again. “Yeah. It is. All right. You know the drill.”
“Refresh my memory.”
“Have Andy write up a bio for you and design a fake website. Check the beta before it’s up, please, so he can make corrections. And memorize it. We’ll goose the page rankings so it looks like you’re legit.”
“Great.”
“He can set you up with new ID and business cards and whatever else you need. Buy a good suit.” She looked with distaste at Linc’s jeans and jacket.
“I need an advance.”
Dana took a platinum credit card out of a slim folded purse on the table. “Put it on this. Same goes for the vests. Get a car and driver too. Don’t use ours.” She handed over the card. “There’s no limit. Go to town. But get receipts.”
“Is my new name Dana Scott?” Linc asked.
“Why not? You know it’s not really mine. No one outside the agency and the man I love knows who I am.”
“Thank you. Very much.”
“Don’t grovel,” she said absently, pulling her laptop back in front of her. “It’s a giveaway. Act like you could buy SKC if you felt like it. For cash.”
“I will.”
She took the trouble to give him one last look. “Buy a really good suit. So good your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”
“You don’t know Sheila Bannon.”
“All right, whatever. We’re not trying to fool her, are we?”
Kenzie had missed his call. The message Linc had left baffled her.
“Hey. I have to drive out to Fort Meade and show up at work before they forget what I look like. Next time you see me I’ll be a new man.”
A day had passed before he’d called again. And now she was meeting him for lunch at a nice restaurant down the road from Hamill’s. He’d said something about the fast food place, which was closer, being nowhere near good enough.
Carol let him through the gate. Kenzie, preserving her dignity, didn’t look through the windows of her second-floor room. But she heard Carol’s squeal and the other woman telling Linc how good he looked.
She went down the stairs and opened the door to the outside.
He did look good. In fact, he looked amazing. The dark suit he wore emphasized his powerful frame and height, and fit him perfectly. This was a new Linc. She almost wanted to sniff him to make sure it was the same Linc.
An expensive aftershave wafted her way as he strode toward her. She noticed the haircut. Just right.
He grinned at her. There was something about the conservative suit that brought out a touch of the devil in his grin.
Kenzie felt a little underdressed. She had put on a pretty dress, just in case, but she didn’t have heels to go with it, only flats in a matching color.
“You look gorgeous.”
He was being a sport. “I think the word applies to you, Linc.”
“Is it too much?”
She looked him up and down. He seemed to enjoy her scrutiny tremendously.
“No. You got it just right.”
“I had help.”
Of course, she thought with annoyance. Feminine, sophisticated help. A sales associate to adjust the jacket across the broad shoulders with manicured hands. Another to kneel with needle and thread, to make sure the break of the pants hems over the black shoes was just right. A hairstylist clipping and snipping and tenderly brushing the back of his neck. She disliked them all. No one was going to get next to Linc Bannon before she did.
“Ready to go?”
Kenzie nodded. “Is there a coach and four on the other side of the fence?”
He grinned again and took her arm. The car was dark cobalt, as conservative as the suit, with a daringly low chassis that had been designed for high speed.
“My boss told me to get one with a driver,” he said. “I settled for this.”
“Very nice.”
He escorted her to the passenger side and helped her in. At the restaurant, he did the same thing. She counted the stares they each got, somewhat mollified that she was slightly ahead by the time they were seated.
Settled at a table in a back corner per his request, they consulted the menus.
“I assume I can order anything,” she said.
“Absolutely.”
The food was quite good, simple fare with a touch of elegant inventiveness. She kept looking at him and he didn’t seem to mind.
“These are my work clothes, you know,” he said, halfway through his steak.
“Oh.”
He slipped a hand behind the front of his jacket and examined one of his buttons.
“Is it loose?” she inquired. “Can’t fix it, sorry. I forgot my sewing kit.”
Linc smiled. “It’s working fine. I just took a five-second video of you.”
“Oh.” So that was the microcamera he’d mentioned. Kenzie was too curious not to look at it more closely. The button looked like any other button. “I didn’t hear a click.”
He held up his hand. A heavy gold ring set with a flat stone caught the light. “You press the stone. Done.”
That hadn’t been on his hand until a second ago. He must have had it in his pocket and slipped it on. “Seriously?” Her tone was faintly mocking. “I don’t believe you.”
“Wait for the download.”
“Oh, okay. Whatever you say.”
Linc shrugged. “This gear is for real, Kenzie. And it’s not that expensive or unusual. Anybody can buy it at a snoop store in a strip mall or online. Good guys, bad guys—we all use the same stuff.”
She had to laugh. “Whose side are you on again?”
“Yours.”
“I guess I should be grateful. But no more candids of me, please.”
“Not a problem.”
The food was great, but she didn’t request dessert and neither did Linc.
When the check arrived in a leather fold, he didn’t even look at it, just took out a wallet and slipped in a credit card to cover the tab.
Not quite fast enough. She saw the name on it. “Dana Scott?”
“My new identity. But only for a day. Don’t get used to it.”
Kenzie shook her head regretfully and folded her arms on the table as he glanced around for their server. She’d never been a fan of men in suits until now, but he looked fantastic. The easy knot on the million-dollar tie made it clear he didn’t take himself too seriously in it. As far as the suit—the drape, the natural shoulders—it was perfectly tailored for a man who liked to move.
He put his wallet back into the inside pocket and adjusted the lapel. It didn’t need adjusting.
“Do you get to keep that?” Kenzie asked.
He winked. “Yes I do. Everything but the car.” He brushed a nearly invisible crumb off the jacket. “Hey, I don’t know when I’ll ever wear this again, but it’s definitely getting a closet of its own.”
“I see.” Kenzie surveyed him with a wry smile.
No question that he had dressed to kill just to get inside SKC, not to impress her. But the fine clothes had done something for his attitude. The final touch—that cocky grin—beat a pocket square any day of the week.
The bill taken care of, they left. Kenzie did her best to ignore the admiring glances Linc “The Suit” Bannon got from the women in the restaurant.
He didn’t take her back to the shooting range right away. There was a lookout point between here and there. Linc swerved the dark cobalt car into it, pulling
alongside the rock wall and switching the engine off. They had the lookout to themselves.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked. Rhetorically.
“Great view.”
She glanced at the distant DC skyline, seeing the dome of the Capitol to the east and the tip of the Washington Monument. The Mall, its grassy expanse invisible from where they were, stretched to the Lincoln Memorial at the other end. Its blocky rectangular top appeared through the bare-branched trees.
“Sure is.” Kenzie tossed her handbag into the footwell and turned to him. That grin on his handsome face was not about sightseeing. She allowed herself the pleasure of looking him over one last time. He pretended not to notice.
Even looking straight ahead through the windshield, his dark eyes had a knowing glint. It was arrogant of him to assume that he knew what she wanted, even though he was right. And annoying of him to wait for her to make the first move. One strong hand rested on the wheel and the other on his thigh.
Kenzie unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over. Two could play that game. She put her lips against his ear and he stiffened visibly. “What’s on your mind, Linc?” she breathed, teasing him.
She was amused to see his eyes close with pleasure. Maybe he hadn’t been expecting her to say something like that. Too bad. She’d said it.
Kenzie slid her hand over his smooth-shaven jaw and turned his face to hers. Wow. His gaze burned with passion. She’d never seen Linc like this. He was all man and then some.
Hard to say who began the kiss, but it went on for a while. She didn’t remember taking the knot out of his tie, which hung open. A couple of buttons had parted company with the buttonholes on his shirt.
Linc sat back when she did.
“Wow. I mean, maybe you should take me home,” she said. “Not that I don’t want more, but—”
Linc nodded, turning the key in the ignition until the engine revved. “Tell me when, Kenzie. That’s all I ask.”
Some minutes later, good-byes exchanged, he forced himself to think. Next up, SKC.
Linc’s first call to the company on the previous day had gone straight to the phone on the CEO’s desk, thanks to a personal recommendation from a higher-up at the agency.
After a kiss like that, it was a miracle he remembered so much detail. Kenzie was capable of shredding his concentration with a few soft words. He told himself not to fall into the tender trap a second time and concentrated.
