by Kylie Brant
“I prefer personal protection specialists, and yeah.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s a dangerous world.”
“Tell me about it.” She opened the car door, got in. “Goodbye, McCabe.”
He stepped away, watching her back out of the space. Leave the lot. And wondered why he was feeling so disappointed that a woman he barely knew was driving out of his life.
* * *
She might have made it in time to pick up Alex, Ava thought darkly, as she reparked her car in the half-empty police headquarters lot thirty minutes later. Probably would have, given that he always seemed to be the last one out of the locker room. But the terse phone call she’d received when she’d been halfway to the East High School gym had ended hopes of getting home any time soon.
Her mood grim, she jogged up the steps to the building and flashed her ID at the officer manning the front desk. She strode by with barely a pause in her step, heading toward the stairs leading to the administrative offices. Chief Sanders hadn’t been particularly forthcoming on the phone. But it wasn’t like she could turn down his “request” that she head back in for yet another meeting.
Questions tumbled through her mind like circus acrobats. Had a question arisen regarding Cabrerra’s death? It had been a clean shoot, but she’d seen more than one SWAT sniper get caught up in bureaucratic bullshit after a public outcry.
She took the steps to the second floor two at a time. It was much too early for Sanders to be taking flak for the incident response. The nightly news had just aired. And the mayor, never her favorite person, wouldn’t have a reaction until the results of his daily polls were weighed.
Since it was impossible to guess the agenda for the meeting, Ava tried to shove her questions aside. But that didn’t dissipate the knot of nerves tightening in her stomach.
Knocking on the closed door of Sanders’s office, she awaited the chief’s growled invitation before entering. Immediately her gaze went to the strangers seated across the desk from the chief. She made them out as feds immediately. Their dark suits and arrogant expressions were more telling than badges.
“Detective Carter.” Chief Sanders waved her toward a chair. Ava sat in one a couple feet from the strangers. She felt the two men’s gazes on her, bold and appraising, so she returned their stares unflinchingly. With a few notable exceptions, she held feds in as low esteem as she did politicians, for much the same reasons.
“DHS Agents Samuelson and Paulus,” Sanders continued, with what passed for an introduction. The men gave her slight nods, and Ava struggled to hide her jolt of shock. What would Homeland Security want with her? Because it was at their request that Sanders had ordered her back. That much was clear.
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get home, Detective Carter,” started Samuelson. He was a tall, spare man, with slicked-back thinning dark hair and a tan that didn’t quite hide the old acne scars on his face. “I’ll get right to the point. I understand from Chief Sanders that you’ve met Cael McCabe, the owner of Global Securities.”
“Yes.”
The agent seemed to be waiting for her to go on, but when she didn’t, he pressed, “The two of you were seen together in the parking lot afterward.”
“Yes.” Seen by whom? Who had been the person of interest? McCabe or her?
A note of impatience crept into Samuelson’s tone. “Did the two of you have a conversation?”
“Yes.” She saw Sanders hide a smile at her less than enlightening responses. But she was damned if she was going to feed the feds any information before they extended her the same courtesy.
“We’d like to know what you discussed.” It was the first time Agent Paulus had spoken, and Ava shifted her attention to him. He was a good foot shorter than Samuelson, stocky, with coarse gingery hair and nearly invisible eyebrows.
“Why?”
“Because we asked, Ms. Carter.” Samuelson’s omission of her title didn’t escape her. Neither did his biting tone. She was familiar with the intimidation tactics feds could use to leverage information. She glanced again at Sanders and he gave her a small nod.
She leaned back in her chair, feigning nonchalance. “He offered me a job.” The two agents exchanged a look. Clearly she’d startled them. But even more surprising was the suppressed excitement she sensed her words elicited from them.
“With Global Securities?” Samuelson barely waited for her nod before pressing, “And what was your answer?”
“I told him I wasn’t interested.” Her interest was piqued now, however.
“We’d like you to reconsider your answer to McCabe’s job offer,” Samuelson said. Though couched as a suggestion, it sounded more like a command. “There’s a matter of national security you could assist with by doing so.”
“Why would I do that?” She didn’t understand Chief Sanders’s silence, but she was tiring of the subterfuge. And her diplomacy skills tended to thin when she was tired.
“Patriotism?” offered Paulus. “Duty to your country? Commitment to national freedom?”
Anger coursed through her, a hot rush of feeling. Although she knew she was being manipulated, she was helpless to stem her response. “I’m recently recovered from taking a bullet because of my line of work. Just got back on the job two weeks ago. Tread carefully, gentlemen. You might not want to question my sense of duty.”
“She’s right.” As if Sanders could remain quiet no longer, he came forward in his chair, aimed a steely look at the agents. “Detective Carter is a valued member of our force, and of our incident response unit. Time to fish or cut bait, gentlemen. If you want interagency cooperation, you have to be open about the mission you’re asking Detective Carter’s help on.”
“Of course.” Samuelson smoothed his muted striped tie, his manner stiff. “We were getting to that. Our agency has an interest in Antonio de la Reyes’s new government and of the political climate in San Baltes. McCabe is providing security for de la Reyes, and anyone on his team would have access to certain…intelligence…that would help us with our threat assessment of the newly formed government there. With your heroics today, we thought you’d be in the perfect position to impress McCabe. Petition him for a position on his team.” He gave her a small smile devoid of sincerity. “Obviously you already accomplished that feat. He was impressed enough to offer you a job, which would make your task even more plausible.”
It was amazing, Ava thought cynically, what passed for open communication with these guys. Or maybe they really underestimated her intelligence enough that they thought she’d buy their story unquestioningly. “Why do you need me? Why not approach McCabe directly for the information?” She read her answer from the pained expressions on the agents’ faces.
“Mr. McCabe was disinterested in cooperating.”
Ava’s lips quirked. She could imagine McCabe’s response had been somewhat less polite than Samuelson indicated. Her estimation of the security consultant kicked up a notch.
“Well, I’m confused.” She gave the agents an easy shrug. “The situation you’re outlining sounds like a matter for the CIA, not DHS. Your involvement means there’s a terrorism component to your concern. I must have missed it when you mentioned that part.”
“This is extremely sensitive.” Agent Paulus cast a look at the other agent as he spoke. “Whatever your response, I hope we can count on your discretion.” He waited expectantly, but when Ava said nothing, he went on. “Alberto Martinez, the former leader of San Baltes, was a corrupt dictator. We have reason to believe money from his government was supporting terrorist attacks throughout South America. Naturally we’re eager for the opportunity to explore the degree to which that network still exists. Your placement on McCabe’s team gives us such an opportunity.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was insincere. “As I told Mr. McCabe, I have a job here. A teenage son to care for. I’m not free to take the job even if I wanted to.”
“Captain Sanders assures us that your job would be waiting for you during your absence, as would your spot on SWAT. A
nd your ex-husband could care for your son while you’re gone, couldn’t he?”
Everything in Ava stilled. Her glance flicked to the chief and back to Samuelson. It was impossible to be sure whether they’d gotten the personal details of her life from Sanders or from their own digging, but she’d bet on the latter. DHS wasn’t known for their regard for individuals’ privacy.
The only question remaining was how deep they’d dug.
“The answer’s still no.” Inwardly seething, Ava made sure her emotions didn’t show in her expression. A sense of duty had formed her desire to enter the police force, but this…they were asking her to deceive McCabe, if in fact she could convince him to put her on de la Reyes’s detail. To act as a spy while she was in San Baltes.
She’d worked plenty of undercover cases, but there was nothing compelling about the agents’ request. They could cite national security all they wanted, but they’d failed to convince her of the urgency of this particular task. And even she was surprised at the level of distaste she felt for it.
“So that’s it, gentlemen.” Sanders rose, indicating the meeting was at an end. Ava couldn’t tell if he approved of her response or not. “I said I’d release Detective Carter if she agreed, but you have her answer. I’m afraid I have another meeting in a few minutes.”
They all rose, and the tall agent reached into his pocket to withdraw a card. He handed it to her. “In case you reconsider.”
When Ava went to take it, the man didn’t release the card immediately. Her gaze met his.
“Think it over, Ms. Carter.” His voice was pitched low enough to reach only her ears. “I happen to believe a single act of patriotism can erase years of disloyalty. Years that might prove embarrassing should they be made public.”
The freshly healed scar on her shoulder throbbed at his thinly veiled warning. He finally released the card and she slipped it into her suit pocket. Turning without a word, she headed for the door, wondering frantically just how thorough their investigation of her had been.
Because she didn’t think she was imagining the threat in Samuelson’s parting words.
CHAPTER 2
Once back in her car, Ava checked her cell phone and found a text message from Alex assuring her he’d find another ride home. She slipped the key in the ignition, but then sat still for a few moments, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel.
It was ridiculous to let Samuelson rattle her. She was accustomed to the strong-arm tactics feds used to get what they wanted, but surely his was an empty threat. Her occupation was a daily testament to her patriotism. She didn’t have to fly to another country to prove it. Just as she didn’t have to constantly strive to negate her radical upbringing. How many times had her ex-husband reminded her of that?
Apparently, not often enough.
Perhaps she’d misinterpreted his words. Ava had the thought, tried to believe it. The assignment the man had described didn’t seem all that vital to national security. So he’d left something out, hardly surprising when dealing with feds.
Which made it impossible to decide whether he’d been bluffing about making trouble for her.
She headed out of the lot and turned on the busy Belleview Boulevard. They lived on the outskirts of the city, a fact her son had grown to hate as his social relationships had become the center of his life. But at the time she and Danny had bought the property, it was quite a bit cheaper to live farther out. That was before trendy developments had started popping up all over in what had previously been a spacious, peaceful area.
Things changed. Ava slowed as she came up on a blue-haired woman who could barely see over the top of the steering wheel. Her neighborhood wasn’t the only evidence of that. Less than five years after they’d bought the house, she and Danny had separated. They’d been divorced for nearly three years.
Turning at her corner, she immediately recognized the blue Toyota parked at the curb in front of her house. Her stomach plummeted. It had been a long, stressful day. She and her ex-husband had an amiable relationship, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with him tonight. All she wanted was a hot meal and a cold beer. Maybe sitting down with Alex to catch the Lakers game on ESPN.
All of which would have to wait until Danny was gone.
Pulling to a stop under the carport, she got out of the vehicle, leaving her gear locked in the trunk. Normally she’d put her rifle in the gun safe, but that would mean carrying it into the house and Danny had never hidden his disapproval about her participation on Alpha Squad. It had been one of the things that had driven them apart.
Pushing open the front door, she saw her ex-husband and Alex sitting on the couch talking animatedly. If their sudden silence at her appearance wasn’t a tip-off that they were up to something, their guilty expressions would have been.
Ava closed the door behind her and raised a quizzical brow. “So, what are you two hatching?”
“Nothing.” Her son was a horrible liar. His eyes, as dark as her own, were alight with excitement. His entire body practically quivered with it. “Dad called right after your text, and when I told him I needed a ride he said he’d pick me up.”
“Uh-huh.” She grabbed him playfully as she walked by the couch, dropping a kiss on his brown mop of hair before he could dodge away. “Did you also tell him we’re going shopping tomorrow and you have to get all your homework done tonight?”
“Oh man.” Alex slumped against the couch. “Can’t you just go and bring some stuff home for me to look at?”
She cocked her head, pretended to consider it. “You mean bring home different sizes and fashions for you to try on and then take back whatever you don’t want? Sort of like your own personal shopper?”
“Yeah.”
“Nope.” Ava dropped in a chair and fixed Alex with a steady look. “Go on and do your English while I talk to your dad. I’ll order something for supper.”
His excitement visibly dimmed, Alex got up and slouched out of the room, muttering, “Okay, but the next kid I see at the mall that calls you a MILF, I’m gonna punch him in the face.”
“Violence is never the answer, Alex,” Danny said reprovingly.
But Ava was less focused on her ex-husband’s words than she was on her son’s. “What is that? MILF? He’s complained about that before.” She swung her puzzled gaze to Danny’s, but her ex looked just as mystified as she was. She’d have to remember to ask one of the other cops. Danny wasn’t exactly up on teenage vernacular.
“Thanks for bringing him home.”
Her ex-husband took off his rimless glasses and cleaned the lenses on his shirt, his fine white-blond hair falling in his eyes. “I wanted to come by and talk to you tonight anyway. It worked out.”
“Must be big.” She waited for him to put his glasses back on, blink at her owlishly. “I haven’t seen Alex that excited since the baseball coach moved him up to play JV last year.”
“Well.” Danny gave her that boyish smile that once would have softened something inside her. “It is big. But how big depends on you.”
For the second time in an hour Ava found herself wishing for a beer. “Danny. It’s been a long day. Just spill it, okay?”
He fingered his white collar, a nervous habit he had. “I just told him about a mission trip I have planned. I booked some flights to Tanzania for this summer for myself and a few other church members. We’re going to help build some schools. Train teachers. I’ll be gone the entire summer.”
“That’s longer than usual.” She reached for the lever to kick up the footrest on her recliner and smothered a purr of satisfaction when the chair responded. “Your church must have really done some major fund-raising for this trip.”
His gaze skirted hers. “The church remains committed to our missionary work. But with the upcoming renovations to the building planned…well, money is tight. I funded it myself.”
“You…” Ava gaped at him. “You don’t have any money.” The child support he sent her was modest. His salary a
s assistant pastor in a small church was less than what she made, and cops weren’t exactly featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. “Where would you get…” Her stomach plummeted. “Oh, Danny. Tell me you didn’t.”
He folded his hands on his knees and leaned forward, his choirboy face earnest. “These people are among the poorest in the world, Ava. They live in mud huts. Some of the children walk ten miles a day to school. Try to put things in perspective. If some personal sacrifice means we can help hundreds of less fortunate…”
The last thing she needed right now was another lecture on sacrifice. She came upright and out of the chair in one smooth motion, her fists balled at her sides. “The sacrifice is hardly personal when it’s your son paying the price. Did you tell Alex you financed this trip by selling the bonds you were saving for his college costs?”
His chin squared. He’d never once raised his voice in all the years she’d known him, but she recognized that expression. It meant he wouldn’t budge from his position. “You still have your savings for him, right? And he doesn’t have to go to MIT. There’s a perfectly adequate college right here in Metro City.”
Ava closed her eyes, gritting her teeth against the hot words that trembled on her tongue. “He’s talked of nothing else for three years. He got a two thousand on the SAT as a freshman, Danny. He’s not going to the local college.” Her son’s proficiency in academics, especially in math and science, had been noticed early in elementary school. She’d been saving what she could for his future since then. They both had. At least until now.
“MIT gives need-based scholarships anyway. And if he has to borrow some money, he’ll appreciate his education more.” Danny’s voice turned indulgent. “The Lord will provide, Ava. You just have to believe.”
She stared at him, her breathing strangled. Which of them had changed more since they’d first met at seventeen and twenty? No real puzzle there. Danny was still the dreamy-eyed idealist, with the biggest heart she’d ever met. So big sometimes that it blinded him to the needs of his own family. While she…after eleven years on the force, she’d learned that all people weren’t inherently good. That evil was more than a concept. And if you didn’t take care of your own, no one else would.
