The Widow (Federal Hellions Book 1)

by Gray Gardner

  George stood still on the dimly lit street and finally got the courage to look up at Dr. Thomas. He looked mortified, standing against a brick wall and staring at her like he didn’t even know her.

  She took a breath and opened her mouth to say something, but he stepped forward and silenced her.

  “You’re not a reporter, are you,” he said, stopping in front of her and reaching out for the badge hanging around her neck. She winced as he snapped it off to get a closer look. He actually let out a small laugh, but he didn’t look so amused. “The Drug Enforcement Agency? You’re a fed, then, huh?”

  She licked her lips and looked back down at her feet. “Dr. Thomas…”

  “Oh no.” He grinned, stepping back. The grin didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re investigating my school, my friends, my students. No, no. We’re colleagues, Jane. Call me Conrad.”

  She sensed the sarcasm and knew she deserved it, but she did wish he’d give her the chance to explain. The benefit of the doubt. She’d put up with a lot of bullshit, including his, to try and keep the students at his school safe. She rubbed her throbbing right hand and tried to figure out where to begin.

  He decided to begin for her.

  “So, what’s been really going on this past semester? Am I a suspect in the state’s eyes? In the nation’s eyes? Or am I just a pawn so that you can nail my students for possession?”

  She shook her head and frowned as she looked away. Words were eluding her at the moment.

  “I really can’t believe that right now you have absolutely nothing to say!” he yelled, holding his arms out as he leaned down and got right in her face. Blood streaked down it, but it didn’t look like hers. He felt confused, righteous, betrayed… well he didn’t really know what he felt. But he had feelings. Strong ones.

  She pressed her lips together and gathered herself for a few seconds. She didn’t want him seeing her cry. She didn’t even know why she felt like crying. She’d just saved two boys’ lives. It was a good day.

  He was just another guy, she reminded herself. Conrad Thomas was just another guy. And the way he stared down at her did not shred her to pieces. It didn’t. This was her job. He was just her job.

  “Let’s go,” she coldly said, finally turning her eyes up to him.

  “That’s your big explanation?” He huffed, running his fingers through his hair. “All this time I was… and you just expect me to come with you to… wherever you work?”

  “The Department of Justice,” she mumbled, resting her hands on her hips as she looked away.

  “The Department of Justice!” he repeated, trying not to sound as stunned as he felt. Of course. The little liar had an office in the federal building downtown, where the Department of Justice was. Where the Hoover building was. He shook his head as he paced around on the dark sidewalk. “I worried about you. Enormously. And for what? You work for the government. You’ve already been to high school and college! Everything out of your mouth from day one has been formulated by you to deceive me. I’ll… I’ll bet your parents aren’t even dead!”

  “Dr. Thomas, please,” she said, clearing her throat as her voice grew raspy. “James and Christian are going to be scared and confused. It would really help them to know you’re there.”

  “Don’t act like you really care about them,” he muttered, walking past her and bumping into her shoulder. He knew he had to go with her, but he wasn’t going to make it easy.

  She caught her breath and turned, walking behind him to her Tahoe. It all happened in slow motion to her. They rode in silence. In the dark. The city was sleeping but both of them were far from rest. The palpable anger gripped the very air they breathed and the inside of the SUV felt too small. They felt too close to one another.

  George parked at her building and led Dr. Thomas through the fluorescent lights and indistinguishable agents in dark suits, rushing around with important DOJ business. They reached the interrogation room and found Director Nelson pacing around in dim lighting, with one of her superiors standing against the wall and talking into his cell phone. James and Christian were on the other side of the two-way mirror underneath bright lights, getting patched up by a couple of doctors who were always on call in the building.

  “Director,” George sighed, holding her hand out to a chair for Dr. Thomas to sit in. “It was a clean shoot.”

  Nelson didn’t wait to get her into another room to yell at her privately. She strode forward and pushed her back into the mint green wall, looking incensed as she held her hand against George’s shoulder.

  “Agent George, you are trained for intelligence only,” Nelson growled through her teeth.

  “Director—”

  “That means,” she continued, very loudly, “that you acquire information so that we can pass it on to the boys who are trained in tactics! Now while no one can contest that you are, in fact, an intelligent person, I think I would be pretty hard pressed to find a colleague in the building who wouldn’t call you pretty fucking stupid!”

  George closed her eyes and nodded as she waited for the rest. Yeah, she’d been stupid and reckless, and it had a lot to do with the man towering over the two of them as he watched.

  “I gave you a direct order to wait until a tactical team arrived,” Nelson continued. “So what the hell happened?”

  “Those boys were being tortured when I went in there,” George managed to say.

  Nelson released her and paced the room, watching George ominously. “You had time to wait.”

  “They were going to die!” George yelled, stepping forward and holding out her hands. “I made a rash decision, yes, but I believe that if I hadn’t gone in at that moment we would be preparing to call those boys’ parents to give them the bad news.”

  “Yes, and instead we have seven bodies and one pissed off ambassador. Not to mention the fact that you are deep undercover, and we have no way to prove if this was clean or dirty!”

  “I made the right decision,” George replied calmly. She was standing up straight, mostly confident in her decision but still a little worried since Nelson was so incensed. Nelson glanced over her shoulder at Dr. Thomas and then scowled back at her agent.

  “Well, now we’ll never know because Los Gallos have skipped town.”

  “They’ll call their connection!” George argued, taking out her prepaid cell phone and slamming it on the table. “They’ll call their connection and this guy is going to fucking panic! And when he does, he’s going to call. He’s going to call and either beg for a deal or try and roll on one of his friends.”

  Nelson shook her head and turned to her superior; he whispered something to her and then left the room. She took a deep breath and looked back to George.

  Dr. Thomas was now sitting silently at the table. He didn’t know what else to do. It was a little bit like the movies, except that the director was usually a middle-aged man with a scotch and a cigar, and the agent was in a black suit with a loosened tie—not jeans, tennis shoes, and a trendy hooded sweatshirt, or a bouncing ponytail that flipped at every word, for that matter.

  “You don’t have long,” Nelson grumbled, right in George’s face. “But you can try and fix this. For everyone’s sake.”

  She stormed out of the room, leaving George and Dr. Thomas alone. George fell back into a chair and leaned forward on the table, covering her face with her hands and trying to collect herself. Wisps of red hair sprouted everywhere and something black was smudged on the backs of her hands. She looked a little whipped.

  Dr. Thomas looked absolutely astounded. The truth, this truth, was confusing.

  If he was honest with himself, though, he did know who the real Jane was. He’d seen it in her eyes every time they were together. She was sweet and compassionate and absolutely selfless. And she’d just proven it to him. He cleared his throat after the long silence.

  “Other than your life, which I know you don’t really have much regard for, did you really go in to rescue James and Christian knowing that your job
was at risk?” he asked, staring across the table at her. It wasn’t the first thing he’d wanted to ask her, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

  She sighed and looked up from her hands, tears in her eyes as she nodded. “They’re just kids. They don’t even know what they’ve gotten themselves into.”

  Conrad Thomas suddenly felt very small. He’d never taken any risks in his life. And when he’d finally positioned himself for the ultimate risk in the Army, he’d quit after only one year. He rubbed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he looked at her. She’d risked everything for two worthless kids she barely knew. He had to do something now.

  “I know these kids and everyone on that campus better than anyone,” he began, pushing down his personal feelings. “How can I help?”

  Covet the Notepad, Not the Writer

  “These numbers,” George said, setting a piece of paper with the prepaid cell phone numbers of the mystery man down on the table in front of the bandaged boys. “Who will answer when I call these numbers?”

  James shook his head; Christian looked up at her and scowled.

  “You stupid bitch! You’re a cop! You think we’re going to—”

  “Hey!” Conrad yelled, slamming his hand on the table in front of Christian. “This stupid cop risked her life to save your little stupid asses tonight! I’d listen to her and answer her questions!”

  James and Christian stared at their professor as George did the same. It’d been a long time since a man had her back. It felt nice, but it probably wouldn’t help their cause with a couple of over-privileged kids.

  “Intimidation,” she nodded, patting his back. “Not a very effective interrogation tactic but, you sure scared the hell out of me.”

  He gave a small grin as he stepped back. She was the professional, after all, but he was glad to see a little of her old self shining through. And she’d smiled at him.

  “We won’t talk until we get a lawyer,” Christian said, staring at the two-way mirror. “Get your boss in there to call my lawyer. Now.”

  “Oh,” George snickered, patting the shoulder of his broken arm and making him wince. “Oh, that’s really cute. You really think you have the right to legal representation?”

  James and Christian quickly frowned up at her.

  “Wait, no, you really do think that,” she said, giving a fake surprised look. “Well, jeez, boys, I hate to tell you, but this is a federal investigation. And tonight we just discovered that the cartel known as Los Gallos are involved and since, well, they are considered international terrorists and are a threat to the homeland and her allies, under the Patriot Act I’m afraid I have to inform you that we can hold you here indefinitely—without an attorney present.”

  They looked at each other and then up at George.

  “Th-that’s not true,” Christian said, trying not to act as frightened as he felt.

  “Yeah,” George nodded, turning her head to Conrad, who nodded as well. “Yeah, but hey, I’m sure you guys are tired and don’t feel like talking tonight. We’ll just send you to federal lock-up to rest up for a few weeks and then we can sit down again and have a real discussion about who the fuck your connection is!”

  “No,” Christian said, shaking his head as James looked worried. “They’re lying! We’re kids! They can’t touch us!”

  “Technically,” George sighed, leaning against the table and brushing her red hair back, “James is the only kid in this room.”

  She motioned at Conrad and the two of them walked out and into the room behind the mirror. The boys were panicking and yelling at each other. George folded her arms and stood silently in the dark room, watching patiently.

  “You know they’re going to tell everyone they know that you’re a fed,” Conrad sighed, looking down at her as the light from the other room cast shadows on her face. Her delicate brow, her little upturned nose, her pouty upper lip that he’d once thought was due to the fact that she hadn’t had parents around to make her get braces and correct those slightly bucked teeth.

  Keep it together, Thomas.

  “Unfortunately for them, they don’t get to communicate with anyone until the assignment is complete and charges are brought up,” George said, giving him a sideways glance. She frowned. Why the fuck was he staring at her like that?

  “You can really do that?”

  “It’s for their safety as well as my own,” she sighed, pressing a hand against the glass and leaning forward. She turned her eyes to him. “I can’t do my job if anyone knows my real identity.”

  Conrad rubbed his head and sighed as they stared at each other. What was her real identity? Did she ever have braces? Did she ever have parents? Who were those other red headed girls? Where did she go to high school? College?

  That wasn’t really relevant. He brought himself back up to speed.

  “I’m hoping they’ll roll on their connection but if not,” George said, averting her eyes again. “We may have to keep you here, too.”

  “Hey,” he said, pointing at himself. “I can keep a secret. I am Mister Discreet. And you’ll need my help, anyway. You said there was a mystery man on campus? Who knows all the employees better than I do? I’m an asset! And speaking of that, you should have come to me in the first place, damn it.”

  She shook her head. “I already put their lives in danger. I’m not doing it to you, too.”

  “I was trained by the same government you were.” He grinned, holding his arms out.

  He was being charming. Shit. He was very good at it. “And now you’re a famous author. Not to sound too self-serving, but it wouldn’t bode well for the Department of Justice if it got out that we let Conrad Thomas go into the field for us and then let him die at the hands of nefarious drug lords!”

  He stared at her curiously, then pulled a little notepad out and jotted down everything she’d just said.

  “What is that? What the hell are you doing?” she asked, suddenly gasping and stepping forward. “You aren’t writing a book about this, are you?”

  He looked a little guilty as he shook his head.

  “You… wait, you can’t write about this!” She hissed, grabbing his notepad out of his hands. “This is classified! Do you know how few people have clearance on this?”

  “I won’t publish it until everything is resolved,” he said, reaching for his coveted notepad that he had all of his notes on. He’d been jotting ideas on that thing for years. It was lucky. It was old. He didn’t want to seem as desperate as he felt to get it back from her, but he became slightly panicked.

  She stepped back and held it away from him as she flipped through it, discovering many scribblings about her. He’d written about her in that ratty old thing? He’d written a lot about her in it. Anger built up as she found detailed notes about her experiences at the school.

  “Do you even get it? This… this is never going to be resolved! It’s a bust on one supplier! One out of a thousand! And one cartel. It’s a systematic dissolution that will take years if even that! And unless I’m dead I’m always going to be a part of it.”

  Conrad stopped reaching for his notepad and stared at her. He hadn’t realized how serious she was until then. He knew she was passionate about her job, sure, but he hadn’t recognized the gravity of her quest to make the world a better place. Or at least Virginia.

  The thought of her risking her life like she had that night made him very uneasy. He simply stood there and looked at her.

  She immediately saw the compassion in his eyes and felt the guilt of stealing his notes away from him. She knew what hard work was.

  “Sorry,” she finally said, dropping the notepad on the table. “I get a little carried away sometimes. I, I trust that you’re not going to write about this until we resolve the St. Patrick’s problem.”

  “That’s a lot of trust to place in someone.” He grinned, trying not to take back the notepad too eagerly. He flipped it carefully closed and gently placed it in his breast pocket.

&nbs
p; She shook her head as she walked back to the mirror to watch the boys. “You aren’t just anyone, Dr. Thomas. You care about people. And unlike people, you know how to actually do the right thing.”

  “You don’t seem to have much faith in everyone else.” He sighed, looking through the glass again.

  “Why should I?” she asked, as Christian and James were wrestling each other in the interrogation room. “They won’t talk just yet, but after a week in solitude they’ll be singing for their supper,” she said, looking up at him with those blue eyes. “We’ll have to call their parents and tell them we have them in custody. Then we need have to solve this shit in less than a week before the parents start demanding to see their sons. Do you really think you can pull off pretending I’m a student?”

  Conrad looked at her momentarily, then laughed and turned his back to the mirror, leaning against it and folding his arms across his chest. The notepad felt comfortable back in his breast pocket, and he felt comfortable with her again. She’d lied to him, and he knew he should be angry, but for some reason her valiance made it all forgivable.

  “What?” she asked, knowing there was a story behind that look.

  “You do realize that for a few weeks now, I’ve thought you were some undercover journalist getting a story about drugs in prep schools,” he told her, smiling and looking over at her.

  She let his happy eyes in a little too much and stepped forward as she smiled at him. “Is that why earlier you asked if I wasn’t a reporter? I mean was it because you saw me conversing with Christian and James. Did you really not believe that I was buying from them?”

  “Not for a second,” he smiled. “I started making up all kinds of excuses in my head because of what I saw in you. I saw that you were a good kid.”

  “Damn it.” She huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking back at him. She winced and then grabbed an ice pack out of a little fridge and placed it over the knuckles on her right hand. Her punching hand.

  “It also makes me feel a little better about the confusing feelings I’ve been having about you,” he confessed, standing up straight and staring her in the eye. He needed to know how she felt. Immediately. Everything was coming out anyway. The games were over.