SusannaHaymond

Anne gripped the railing as she leaned across it to the outside of the gazebo. A smile gently pulled on her lips as she felt her husband’s hand slip around her waist. She twisted her head to see Greg smiling down on her, a twinkle in his eye.

“Hi, Beautiful,” he greeted softly.

She rested her forearm on top of his, as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hi, Handsome,” she whispered back.

“You okay?” He rested his head on her shoulder.

“I’m more than okay,” she gave a light chuckle. “I’m married to you.”

Greg turned her to face him. He let out a chuckle of his own, touching the tip of his nose to hers.

It felt like they were the only ones in the world at that moment.

He pulled back a little and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

Anne hated to see the worry in his eyes, so she smiled brightly to push it away. Lifting a hand to cup his cheek, she said, “I feel great!” She gave him a genuine dazzling smile. She truly did feel wonderful.

“I’m glad.” Greg pulled her closer to himself and laid his head on the top of hers.

“It was a good idea to wait for our reception until I started feeling better after my detox,” she commented, resting her head on his chest.

“Mm-hmm,” Greg hummed his agreement. Never in his life had he felt such contentment as he had since his marriage to Anne. “We had some rough patches in the past few months, haven’t we?”

Color infused her cheeks and she nodded, lowering her head as she felt the heat of shame wash over her.

He hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to his. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Honey.”

“Oh,” Anne questioned, her voice rising an octave, “I shouldn’t be embarrassed about throwing that pan at your head when I was angry? Or how about the time I literally fought Grant away when I was dumpster diving because I was so drug crazed?”

“You weren’t yourself.” Greg stepped back, letting his fingers slide down her forearms to link with hers. “It wasn’t your fault. Becker bribed your doctor to give you the drug. You didn’t choose to take the drug. You weren’t the one who chose to introduce such an addictive substance to your body.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she reluctantly agreed. She blew out a heavy breath. “I was thinking –”

“Uh-oh,” Greg joked. “That can be dangerous.”

She gave him a playfully annoyed expression. “Be nice.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Continue.”

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “As I was about to say, I was thinking how similar drugs and sin are if you compare them to each other. Drugs totally take over your life and if you don’t get help,” she gave Greg an adoring look, caressing his face with her eyes, “like you gave me, I probably would have died from an overdose. Sin is similar in that way; if we aren’t careful to live a life that honors God, sin can overtake our lives and destroy us. If we don’t ask God to help and cleanse us, then we die spiritually – sometimes even physically.”

“Did anyone tell you that I married a very wise woman?” Greg brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Greg Nelson, I’m trying to have a serious conversation and that’s all you have to say about it?” Anne placed her hands on her hips.

“I was listening.” Greg reached for her hand. “Of course, you’re right. I praise the Lord every day for His helping you overcome that addiction.”

He leveled his gaze on her. “I’m so thankful you were able to lick it. My heart was sick with worry when I saw your name on my computer screen at work.” Greg skimmed a finger down her cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Nor I you,” Anne whispered.

Greg wrapped Anne in his arms in an embrace. “I love you, my sweet wife.”

“I love you, my precious husband.” Anne smiled as she spoke the word, batting her eyelashes softly.

“Okay, break it up, you two lovebirds.” Grant, Greg’s best man, broke from the guests under the white canopy where the refreshments had been served.

“Excuse me?” Greg said sarcastically, keeping an arm around Anne’s waist as they turned to face Grant. “This is my wed-”

Grant looked down to read the voice-to-text device he carried with him since he’d lost his hearing.

Anne exaggerated clearing her throat.

Greg glanced down at his bride who had an eyebrow raised. “I mean, our wedding reception,” he corrected. “We don’t have to break up anything,” he replied in jest.

The trio’s laughter mingled after Grant had read what his friend had said to Anne.

Greg was glad that Grant had found a way to communicate after his accident in the explosion. The hearing loss had thrown his partner for a loop. Now if he weren’t so annoying, interrupting his time with his wife…

“You about ready to push off?” Grant flashed a cheeky grin at Greg.

Meeting the eyes of his wife, the edges of Greg’s eyes crinkled. “What do you say?”

Anne glanced up at her husband. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, reaching from ear to ear. This man really was her husband. “Definitely.”

Anne patted her wet hair with a towel as she entered her room. The shower was refreshing, and it helped reset her mentally. Funny how showers could do that.

Greg called her as he neared her room, “Honey?”

She stopped and turned around to see what he wanted. “Yes, Sweet-” She cut off her own sentence when she saw him. His expression was one of shock mixed with confusion. “Greg, what’s wrong?” Her words held alarm.

His eyes darted around like he was too agitated to simply settle. “Uh,” he scratched his temple, “I got a call from Josh.” Now his gaze directly met hers.

From the looks of it, the call didn’t go well, Anne surmised. She took a deep breath and exhaled, preparing for whatever news Greg had to share. “And?” she asked, nervously. She fought the urge to wring her hands.

“They raided a pharmaceutical building.” He shook his head, hurrying to get to the important news, “Long story short, there was an explosion. Grant was too close to it and he’s having hearing problems.”

“What?” she breathed, worried for her friend. “Will he be okay?”

“It’s too soon to tell,” Greg answered. “The hearing loss might only be temporary.” He took a deep breath, “That’s not all…” he drew the last word out. This was the part he was dreading.

“Tell me,” Anne said. Her shoulders were rigid as she steeled herself for more bad news.

“The guys have been looking for someone called Becker. They believe this Becker person is a drug lord and was behind the drug killings and your addiction.”

“Okay,” she said tentatively, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Greg reached out to place his hands on her biceps, his brow creasing.

The suspense was getting to be too much for Anne. “Honey, what is it?” she asked with foreboding.

“I don’t know how to tell you, except to just say it,” he told her.

She placed a hand on his cheek to give him a bit of her strength, though she was in short supply herself. His scruffy whiskers poked her tender palm. He must not have shaved today, the thought came unbidden. Not the time. Anne shook her head to dispel the random thoughts.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Sweetheart, Shelby is Becker.”

“What?” she exclaimed, backing away in shock. Greg’s words slowly penetrated as she worked to understand what he was saying. It was like the words hit against a hard surface, stopping them short, then slowly sunk past it into comprehension.

In a matter of moments, her whole world came crashing down around her. Anne forgot to breathe. Her head spun, causing a dizzy sensation to come over her. Seeing that she was losing her balance, Greg wrapped his arms around Anne’s waist to steady her. Her eyes were dazed and her stomach constricted into knots.

“Honey?” he called to get her attention.

“Why?” She turned to face him. Deep hurt emanating from her eyes. “Was any part of our friendship real? Why did she befriend me?” The questions kept coming. “Did she do it so she could drug me? Why would anyone do such a thing? I thought she was nice!”

Greg gathered her deep in his arms. “I’m so sorry, my Love. I know it hurts.”

He expected Anne to crumple into a fragile ball. Instead, she pushed back on him and stepped away. His eyes met her fuming, burning eyes. “The nerve! She betrayed me, Greg.” The betrayal cut deep. “She’s put me through so much! This addiction is her fault! Why did she think she could get away with it? Why would a drug lord target me? I’m no one important. There are many others who have accomplished so much more than I have in the fight against drugs!”

Hot tears streamed down her face. “Why, Greg?” She sobbed, melting back into his ready arms. They brought a comfort that was inexplicable. He made her feel safe when nothing else would. He was her safe place.

Greg’s heart constricted as he watched her struggle with the emotions assaulting her from being betrayed. He also felt the betrayal deeply, but he had to remain strong for his future wife in her vulnerable state. Not knowing what else to say, he reassured her, “I’m here, Love.” He ran a hand down her back. “I’m here.”

She dug her fingers into his shoulders as the agony of the situation overcame her. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” he whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Anne sobbed until they tapered down, wearing her out.

---

Anne’s no-nonsense gait was filled with purpose as she walked back to the visitation area of the jail. She was a woman on a mission; she was here for answers. Greg had offered to go with her for support, but this was something that she needed to do on her own.

She’d cried all her tears at home and was ready to face the woman who had nearly destroyed her life.

Reaching the door to the visiting area, she stopped, inhaled, and pushed through the entrance. There, on the other side of the glass divider, sat a smug Shelby in an orange jumpsuit. Shelby smirked when she saw her.

Anne crossed the room, sat down in the chair across from Shelby, and picked up the phone. She was determined not to show Shelby any weakness.

Shelby picked up her phone receiver. “Hi, Anne,” she greeted like she was picking up right where they left off on the friendship. “It’s been a while.”

Anger welled up within Anne’s chest. Shelby wasn’t at all ashamed of how she’d tipped her world upside down and shook it. Anne was glad there was a glass wall separating her from Shelby. She didn’t trust herself not to do something she’d regret later – like slapping that arrogant face of Shelby’s. No remorse was evident in the stubborn chin haughtily tipped up in the air.

“‘It’s been a while?’” Anne repeated, raising her tone at the end of the question. “That’s all you have to say?”

The composure fell from her nemesis’ face, revealing a seething Shelby. “What do you want, Sherril?”

It took a moment for Anne to compose herself from the abrupt change in Shelby’s manner, but she was sure to keep her facial expressions neutral. She cleared her throat before answering, “I want to know why.” Her free hand lay still in her lap while the one she held the phone with was sweaty from her nervous energy. Though she wanted to grip the phone for dear life, she made sure she kept it in a loose hold. “We were friends.”

“How adorable,” Shelby taunted. “You think this was personal,” her voice crooned but hardened when she said, “A lot you know,” she scoffed. “It’s my family business. You were threatening it, and I had to stop you.”

“That’s it?” Anne questioned without emotion. “Yep, that’s it,” Shelby replied.

“You killed my grandmother!”

“You weren’t cooperating.” The woman dressed in orange shrugged. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

“By killing my grandma?” Anne stopped herself from screeching.

Shelby slowly shook her head. “It was business.”

Anne was at a loss. Her mind was scrambling to put it all together so that all the events that had happened would make sense. As she did, she said the next words that came to mind, “You helped me with my events.”

“Oh, well, you know those candies I handed out at the fair last year?”

Anne’s stomach sank.

“They were laced with kronilan,” Shelby said.

The air in Anne’s lungs felt like it was sucked out of them. “Getting me hooked on drugs wasn’t enough for you? You had to get those innocent children addicted too?”

Shelby had systematically unraveled so much of Anne’s hard work – and she did it right under her nose.

“You know I’m a Christian woman,” Anne stated, “I’ll be praying for you. May God have mercy on your soul.” She hung up the phone, stood, and walked out.

On the other side of the door, Anne squeezed her eyes. She’d done it. She’d faced Shelby and survived.

Grant stood pressed against one side of a brick wall that surrounded the north and east sides of the building. It wasn’t very tall, but it gave enough cover for the agents and SWAT to come from behind the neighboring building and approach the side of IMS without being detected. A man was already stationed near the front of the building, near a car for cover, to keep an eye on that door.

Grant poked his head over the top of the wall, and studied the area. The ground was a good two feet lower on the other side, making it around six feet high. He saw a parked semi facing him. Thankfully there wasn’t a driver in the cab. He could hear a forklift beeping as it backed up, then the noise stopped.

Josh noticed the muscles in Grant’s neck tighten. And he knew why. There was an agent in there somewhere, and they had to make sure they got him out without injury. If he was still alive.

Grant raised three fingers high enough for SWAT to see it, and brought them down, one at a time. When his last finger went down, each man rose and carefully dropped over the wall, except for another lookout who was to stay behind to watch this side for anyone who might attempt to escape.

More than a dozen men hurried across the open space toward the sliding metal doors that were open high enough for the truck to fit inside a few feet. The group split into two sections and parted at the truck.

Greg led the way up to the door.

Becker’s men working inside noticed the team pouring into the loading bay. It was every man for himself. They split off in every direction, seeking places to hide and stand their ground.

The gruff looking man on the forklift saw what was going on. Instead of bailing, he charged several members of the SWAT team who were spreading out to find vantage points and flush out the workers.

The forklift operator narrowed in on one officer, who turned to see the lift almost on top of him. The forks were low to the ground, and one of them was aiming straight for his legs. There was no time to move out of the way. At the last second, he jumped up onto the moving fork, aiming his rifle at the driver. He shouted for him to get out of the forklift.

With a jolt, the man stopped the lift, which threw the officer off balance and pitched him towards the forklift. The officer spun to stand beside the machinery and aimed his gun at the man, who raised his hands into the air, and finally gave up.

The sound of an explosion caught everyone’s attention.

Rifles held to their shoulders and leaning forward slightly, Grant and Josh made their way through the maze of crates as they conducted their search. Grant was a few paces ahead of Josh, leading the way. He started down one row, when suddenly he felt the weight of a man come crashing down on him, causing him to fall to the floor.

Josh pulled the man off of Grant, who whirled around and threw a fist, crashing into his jaw. Grant scrambled up from the floor and wrapped his arms around their assailant. The man struggled to free himself.

“You’re under arrest,” Grant said breathlessly.

The man stopped struggling. As Josh approached, bringing out his cuffs. Grant slid his arms from around the suspect’s chest, moved to hold his arms in place as he waited for Josh to put the cuffs on.

A second explosion went off in the aisle to their left.

“I wonder what those explosions are,” Josh commented.

“No idea,” Grant said. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

Josh placed cuffs on the man and cuffed him to the heavy-duty shelf. They left him there to go check out the source of the explosion.

Coming to the end of the aisle, Grant and Josh spotted two men running away from the location of the explosion toward them. The agents ducked behind the shelf, out of view. The man in front came into view and Josh tackled him to the floor. Grant followed suit with the second man and cuffed him to the shelving.

The man Josh wrestled bent Josh’s left hand backward into an unnatural position, Josh cried out in pain. Pushing searing discomfort from his mind, Josh gave the man a swift kick in the stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.

Grant joined his partner and slapped one of the man’s hands with a handcuff while he was distracted with Josh, finally subduing him. A couple of SWAT team members came just then and took the perps away.

Grant eyed his partner’s wrist. It was twisted into an unnatural position.

---

Connor sat stunned as he tried to process what Jake had just said. Jake was the one who leaked information to Becker. Elaine leaned back on her feet as her face twisted in pain. Connor shook the fog out of his mind to listen to what Jake had to say, “I tried to convince you not to go back undercover.”

Connor stared at the man that he had confided in. The man he had once called friend. A horrible realization dawned on him like a kick in the gut. His gaze bore into his betrayer as he asked, “You were the one that blew our cover ten years ago, weren’t you?”

When Jake didn’t deny it, Connor drew his eyebrows together so hard his head ached. “How did you ever justify that in your mind?” Connor asked in disbelief, the stab of a second betrayal was thrust to his very core.

Jake kicked the wall in frustration. “She threatened my family. Okay?” he yelled. “She was going to kill them if I didn’t cooperate with her and her father. I knew you were immune to kronalin, and that was what she preferred to use to dispose of her enemies. I thought I could tell her who the leak was without it really hurting you, but I didn’t know you would be injured so badly. I didn’t mean for you to get -”

“You didn’t mean for what? You didn’t mean for me to nearly die? For Kolt to die?” Connor let the string of questions flow.

The deflation he was feeling made him think of a balloon that had been pricked with a pen. “All this time-” he stopped. He was too mad to go on. He glanced at Elaine, whose head hung low and her face was flushed.

The conversation was cut off when they heard someone approaching. All three tensed, falling silent, hoping they wouldn’t be discovered. As the person came to the point of standing between the lab and storage room doors, gunshots rang out through the building. They ducked, and Connor slid out of the chair, moving to the back of the room. He tried to crouch, but his injured leg wouldn’t allow it.

The door to the room flew open, and Becker slipped inside to dodge a bullet flying past her and closed the door most of the way behind herself.

Rising slowly, Elaine took a silent step toward the door. Becker’s back was facing them. Elaine silently worked to sneak up on her, all the while hoping the gunfire and shouts would cover any noise she made. Connor was in no shape to be moving around, and she wasn’t sure what to think of Jake, the person who had sent her undercover. Who knew, one day he might have ratted her out as he had done to Connor?

Elaine held her breath as she approached her target. When she was close enough, she reached out to tap Becker on the right shoulder. As Becker spun to the right, Elaine curled her fingers inward, drew back, and hurled a fist for Becker’s face. But Becker saw what Elaine intended, and bent over backwards, ducking under Elaine’s arm.

Elaine kneed Becker in the back as she bent over, but Becker used that momentum to flip backwards. She landed on her feet, and threw a right kick at Elaine’s face.

Dodging that kick by mere inches, Elaine spun and leaped into the air, intending to land one of her own. Becker countered with another kick, this time to Elaine’s knee cap, as she ducked.

Jake stood, ready to help Elaine. A man ran past the door that was cracked open, and he sprinted after him. Being careful to not get hit by any stray bullets.

Connor raised himself up on one foot, with his injured leg out straight to the side. As he looked over the table at the two fighting women, glass beakers on the table in front of him shattered, and spilled its contents all over the table.

A bullet passed directly through the wall to his right. Connor laid flat against the floor, making himself a smaller target by exposing himself to as little gunfire as possible. Noise from the top of the table drew his attention. Some of the chemicals were mixing, and a vapor rose. Knowing what was about to happen, he pulled himself along the floor away from the wall.

Becker got far enough away from Elaine to pull the gun out of the holster at her side. She fired, but the bullet went wild when Elaine pushed against her hand. The bullet struck the chemical on the counter. A loud boom reverberated around the room, distracting Becker.

Elaine jumped from the unexpected loud noise.

Quickly recovering while Becker’s attention was across the room, Elaine hit the back of Becker’s hand just above her wrist, disarming her. Becker reached out to grab Elaine’s neck, strangling her.

Connor read the label of one of a few small bottles that sat on the counter. Nitroglycerin. That must be the explosion he heard from the other room. They must have bottles of the volatile stuff stored around the building. Connor ducked behind a desk as another bullet strayed and hit the liquid that had spilled onto the counter. The liquid exploded from the shock.

As he studied the table where the chemicals had reacted, an idea sparked and fully ignited a plan. Dragging himself closer to the table closest to him, he pulled himself to a standing position. Connor lifted himself up enough to look for the fighting women, but couldn’t see them through the smoke. Though he could hear them struggling on the floor.

Elaine was unsuccessfully fighting to push Becker’s grip away from her throat as the other woman sat on her hips, pushing her hands toward the floor with Elaine’s throat under them. Beginning to feel light-headed, she started seeing the room spin. Desperate, her instincts for survival kicked in. A feral frenzy ripped through her. With one last resort, Elaine pulled her legs up, and wrapped her knees around Becker’s neck. Pulling backwards with all her strength, she used her whole body as a weapon to fight the woman closing off her airway.

Becker’s grip on her neck was finally broken, as she was pulled too far back to reach it. She began to flip to her side, but Elaine wrapped her arms around Becker’s legs, which were on each side of her head. The two of them rolled around, and bumped into a table, knocking over a beaker. It fell to the floor and shattered. They rolled away, and back again in the struggle as more beakers teetered.

Elaine felt little shards of glass dig into her back as she fought Becker.

Working as quickly as he dared, Connor stacked several beakers in his arms. Some were full and others empty. He dug deep and forced himself to go to the loading dock entrance. Once there, he cracked it open enough to look out. He could see more fighting going on out there, and other men lurking, hiding from SWAT. Well, maybe he could help even the odds, despite the fact that he couldn’t be out in the fray.

Pouring a few chemicals into an empty beaker, Connor counted, then threw it in the direction of a few men who were hiding. The beaker exploded, and the men were forced out of hiding, right into Grant and Josh’s path.

Connor continued to throw more ‘bombs’, forcing Becker’s men to show themselves. Slowly, but surely, each man was found and arrested.

---

Elaine’s struggle with Becker continued. They rolled around, fighting for dominance, neither one willing to concede defeat. Again, they bumped into the table, and Becker slammed Elaine’s arm into the table leg, nearly breaking it. Elaine’s hand refused to hold onto Becker any longer while it was being crushed against the metal leg.

Seeing Elaine’s moment of weakness, Becker jumped up and ran for the door.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” Elaine yelled.

Hopping up while holding her injured hand to her chest, she ran after Becker.

A chair stood in between Becker and the door. She dodged it, but Elaine jumped and placed her foot in the seat, and flew herself into the air, landing a kick to Becker’s upper back. Becker’s head popped back from the momentum before she tumbled to the floor. She stayed down long enough for Elaine to pull her prisoner’s arms behind her back. “Stay down, Becker.”

As he rounded the doorway, Grant took stock of the scene he came in on. His fellow agent, Elaine Jackson, had her knee digging into the back of a woman who lay faced down.

Both women were the worst for wear; their hair was disheveled, a button or two popped off of crimson stained blouses that were untucked, blood ran from Becker’s nose, while a wound on Elaine’s head bled. Elaine touched the injury gingerly, testing to see how bad it was while continuing to hold onto Becker’s arm. She winced.

“I could use a pair of handcuffs,” Elaine heaved, looking to Grant for assistance. Strands of hair that fell in her face waved in the air as she spoke. She blew a huff of air at them as she continued to stare up at Grant.

“Sure thing,” he said, pulling out a pair.

Becker wiggled under Elaine.

Elaine wasn’t having any of it. “Be still!” she ground out the demand between clenched teeth, willing the woman to obey.

Grant handed her the metal bracelets.

Breathing heavily, Elaine pulled the other woman to her feet. Jake came back with the man he had gone to collect. He and Elaine took their prisoners to the loading dock, where they met up with Josh, while Grant stayed behind to find Connor.

---

Josh stood with his hand in a makeshift brace and sling.

Elaine grimaced. “You okay?”

Josh nodded. “I’ll be better once the medics get in here and put this thing back into the joint.” He looked at Becker. “Well, that is the last of your dirty little operation. Now you won’t be able to kill any more people with your drugs.”

Becker didn’t speak. Elaine smiled warily. “She looks kind of smug, don’t you think?”

Josh turned to face Becker with a face of mocked forgetfulness. “Did we forget to mention that we already arrested that hit man?”

Becker clenched her jaw, but Josh continued, “You see, when a known criminal’s vehicle is at the scene of criminal activity, we have reason to suspect that they’re connected. We took it upon ourselves to stop him on the way out.”

Suddenly, a loud BOOM came from the laboratory, and Connor yelled, “Rourke!”

Josh left the little group and ran down the hall. He turned the corner to the room, and saw his partner on the ground, his arms wrapped over his head.

“What happened?” Josh demanded, his head snapped to Connor, who was standing near the second door, white as a sheet.

Connor turned from looking at Grant to the agent who had entered the room. “I’m not sure, I just got here.”

Josh knelt beside his partner who was rocking back and forth, clearly disoriented. There were cuts on his face, but it didn’t look like he had any burns. He was the closest to the explosion, so he’d gotten the worst of it. “Grant, are you alright?”

Grant didn’t respond, but kept hugging his head which was curled into his chest.

“Where are you hurt?” Josh asked, his eyes searching for more serious injuries.

Still no response.

Josh reached out and touched him on the shoulder. Grant jerked when he felt the touch, and was startled to see his partner.

“Can you tell me where you hurt, Grant?” Josh asked again.

Grant furrowed his brow, and yelled, “What?”

Josh spoke louder, “Can you tell me where you hurt?”

Grant shouted louder, “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Connor and Josh locked eyes. They both knew what had happened.

Grant couldn’t hear them because he had been too close to the explosion. He was deaf.

Connor hobbled over to the table where the syringe lay. Grabbing it, he slipped it into his pocket to save as evidence.

Jake informed them, “Becker is in one of the offices talking to someone, so we can’t go far into the lobby without risking being seen.”

Connor nodded in acknowledgment. “SWAT should be here any minute.”

“How do you know that?”

“We heard it over Connor and Becker’s radios,” Elaine replied, cutting to the chase.

“Then Becker heard it.”

“No,” Connor returned. “We don’t have time to explain it, but I believe they are coming.”

“Well, even if she doesn’t figure it out,” Elaine said, “the security guy will alert her when he sees them coming.”

Connor remembered spotting cameras at opposite ends of the halls, and at each of the four corners on the outside of the building.

Jake nodded. “I’ll go take care of that. Becker doesn’t know I know you are here, so I might be able to get by without a problem, even if she sees me.”

Elaine looked down at Connor’s leg and grimaced. “We need to get that looked at by a doctor before you bleed to death, if that kronalin doesn’t do you in first.

Jake looked confused and asked, “What?”

Elaine looked at him with a very sober look on her face. “Becker injected him with a deadly dose of kronilan.”

Jake’s forehead scrunched, showing his puzzlement as he inquired, “Are you feeling any effects from it?”

Elaine’s mouth gaped at Jake, and Connor smirked as he glanced her way. “She doesn’t believe that I’m immune to it.”

Jake raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side as he commented to Elaine, “It’s true.”

“Whatever.” Elaine shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“She’s naturally skeptical,” Jake told Connor. He switched subjects as he stepped over to the door. “I’ll go get rid of the security problem and come back to let you know when the coast is clear. You two stay here.”

Elaine nodded.

“Will do,” Connor said.

Watching the door close behind Ramsey, Connor leaned his weight against a table, taking the weight off of his injured leg. He eyed Elaine.

“So, how do you know Ramsey?” he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since Elaine had first spoken the DEA agent’s name without an introduction.

She faced him, not showing much emotion as she answered, “I work with him. He’s the one that sent me here six months ago.”

Connor let that information sink in. “So that must be why he was hesitant for me to go undercover.” He glanced at her. “And, how he knew that getting hired on as an employee was a good way of getting in.”

Elaine nodded. “He’s the one that told me you were really FBI, before we,” she stopped and cleared her throat, “met in the office that night.”

Connor saw her cheeks flush pink as she turned her gaze away slightly. She was thinking about their violent encounter.

---

Jake stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He nodded at the security guard posted outside the door, hoping he didn’t suspect anything with him having been in there for so long.

At the end of the hallway, Jake rounded the corner to pass in front of the office that Becker and the hit man occupied. Jake was very glad for the frosted windows on the doors. At least they afforded him some cover.

Walking up to the security room, he heard Buff on the other side of the door scoot his chair back before Jake could even knock on the door that was always kept locked.

The large guard unlocked the door and stepped back to let Jake enter.

“Hey, I had a question for you, Buff.”

“What’s that?” the man answered gruffly.

Jake glanced at the guard’s lunch on the table and back at the guard. “I was wondering if-” he stopped and looked at the guard’s uniform. “Hey, you better get that off your shirt before Becker sees you.”

The guard looked down and Jake landed a solid punch that dazed him.

“Made you look,” he joked dryly.

Jake set to work tying up the guard and gagging his mouth to be sure he wouldn’t raise a ruckus.

Making his way over to where the video feeds entered the room, Jake reached for the knife at his side and made short work of the connections.

Once finished, he opened the door, glanced around, and stepped out of the room. He made it past the office door again, and had just rounded the turn in the hall, when he heard the door open.

Not wanting to look like he was hurrying, Jake kept his pace steady and easy.

“Hey.”

Jake heard the man behind him and turned, working to muster up a rough exterior. He glared at the man. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you.” The man walked closer toward him. “What are you doing?”

Jake scoffed. “Would you answer me if I asked you that question?”

The man stared at him. “Are you a cop too?”

“No,” Jake replied, as if that were a ridiculous question. “What makes you think I’m a cop?” he asked.

The man leaned in, squinting his eyes as he answered, “I’ve been hearing rumbles about a leak, and I haven’t seen you around much.”

“Oh,” Jake let out a light chuckle, waiving a hand casually. “I don’t generally come into this part of the building,” Then he looked sideways at the man suspiciously. “Are you a cop?”

The man was taken back. “No.”

“How can I be sure about that?” Jake sized the other man up. “You could be the leak.”

The other man studied him for a moment, and soon a crooked smile spread over his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Won’t be my fault if you do.”

The man turned and walked out the front door.

Jake turned and let the air whoosh from his lungs.

---

Connor overheard Jake talking to someone in the hall. It sounded like Jake’s cover was still intact.

A few moments later, footsteps came up to the door, and it opened. Jake poked his head in, hoping to prevent a repeat of what had happened the last time he had entered that room. He said, “It’s me,”

Scanning the room, he saw Connor leaning over, still propped on the table. They had to keep him from losing any more blood.

“Come on.” He motioned. “I told the guard I would take over for him.”

Elaine helped Connor hobble across the open space in the hallway to the room across from the one they were in, while Jake made sure there was no trail of blood. Jake entered the room last and closed the door behind them all.

Jake saw that the windows were covered with thick blinds. Rows of metal shelving filled this room as well. There was also a second door leading into the loading area.

Connor glanced at Elaine while he sank into a chair in the middle of the aisle, facing away from the door. She ran her gaze over the room before walking over to one of the cabinets along the wall. Opening one of the doors, she pulled out a white First Aid Kit that sported a red cross on the lid and took it back to where Connor sat.

As Elaine changed his bandage, Connor shot a look over at Jake, who was standing across the room from them. “How did you know we needed help?” Connor tried to keep from jerking away from the gentle, yet painful touch Elaine applied to his wound. She looked up at him with an apology in her eyes. He silently shook his head, trying to tell her not to worry.

Jake cleared his throat and shifted his weight to peek through the gap in the blinds. “I heard that you needed help and that Shelby was coming to back you up.”

Connor furrowed his brow. “You’ve never met Shelby. How did that make you believe you needed to come?”

“I-” Jake paused, and swallowed. “I told her you were going undercover again.”

“You thought that telling a member of my unit my location was a problem?”

Jake drew in a deep breath. Connor could tell that formulating a response was hard for his old co-worker. “I knew,” finally came out, sounding like it came from a throat roughened by emotion.

Connor raised his eyebrows, and slowly asked, “You knew what?” though he was afraid to hear the answer.

His stomach dropped; he hoped his sudden suspicion was wrong.

Jake averted his face as he said, “I knew she was Becker.” Jake turned toward Connor, and forced himself to look into his eyes. He owed him that much. “Besides Shelby, I’m the leak.”

“You don’t understand.” Connor scraped the words from his raw throat.

“Well,” Elaine said, “then maybe you can enlighten me.” She studied him, her eyebrows raised, prodding him to continue.

The sensation of pins and needles were slowly crawling up his arm the longer his hands were bound. His legs weren’t much better. “I began to feel like I lost my soul by working in such degrading filth. The only thing that kept me going was the hope of making Becker’s organization cave in from the inside.” Connor sighed, a deep, weary to the bone, sigh. “I couldn’t even do that right. I tried again, and look what it’s got me.” He scoffed. “Right back in Becker’s smarmy little hands.”

Elaine sat watching Connor. Finally, she spoke, “This case has really eaten you up, hasn’t it?”

Connor let out a chuckle that was void of humor. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Her tone was soft and one of understanding, “What happened once you got to the hospital?”

“I was taken into emergency surgery. My head was in rough shape and the bullet wound wasn’t any better. Between those two injuries, I had lost a lot of blood. The broken nose didn’t do me any favors either.

“The traumatic brain injury or TBI was pretty extensive and put me out of commission for several months. By the time I could get back a semblance of my former life, I admitted I couldn’t continue working at the DEA. I had to have a change. That’s when I moved to the FBI.”

“I see,” Elaine said quietly. Her troubled gaze found his. “What -”

Her question was interrupted by the door swinging open. Shelby stood directly outside the door, holding Connor’s cell phone. Until that moment, Connor hadn’t even thought about his phone, and he also noticed that a second radio had been clipped to the back of her belt. It had to be his. She must have gotten it from his car. “Well, I had a nice conversation with Agent McKenzie.” She wiggled the phone between her index finger and thumb.

Connor’s eyebrow shot up. There were many things he wanted to ask Shelby- or rather, Becker- but he knew this was not the time. Instead, he waited for her to speak again.

“They were headed this way, along with SWAT.”

Connor sucked in his breath. She could hear their plans!

She went on, “I was able to inform them that their assistance was no longer needed.”

Just then, Connor and Shelby’s radios sounded, and she inclined her head slightly towards them to listen.

“SWAT Command, this is Agent McKenzie, come in.” Connor recognized Josh’s voice.

“This is SWAT Command, go ahead,” another voice answered.

“What is your ETA?”

“Ten minutes, now.”

“We have an update on Agent Connor’s status from one of his partners. He is no longer needing assistance. We can head back now.”

Alarmed, Elaine’s eyes darted to Connor, who acted like he didn’t care what happened to them now. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Didn’t he know that their only hope was no longer coming to save them?

“Roger that, Agent McKenzie. Will do.”

Josh came back on. “We’re right behind you. Over and out.”

Becker smiled deviously. “So, now that I know we don’t have to worry about anyone coming, we’ll get to the business at hand.”

She reached to pull something out of her back pocket, and brought her hand back in front of her. Her fingers were wrapped loosely around a syringe. “Connor, you’ve given me enough grief over this mess you’ve caused. For the second time, I might add.” She approached Connor, squeezed his arm hard, and injected the contents of the syringe into his body.

“What was that?” Elaine demanded.

Becker’s voice started out sweet then turned bitter as she drew out her next words, “It’s what I call sweet poetic justice.”

“It was kronilan, wasn’t it?” Connor’s companion continued to demand an answer.

“If you must know, yes.” Shelby’s eyes took on a gleam. “Enough for him to OD.” She gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and showed her teeth. “And you my dear Elaine – if that’s even your name –”

“Boss!”

Shelby whirled around when one of her goons called her. As she did, Connor saw a second syringe that she must have intended to use on Elaine. He paled. He knew the kronilan wouldn’t be deadly for him, but if Elaine were to be given the drug, it would be fatal.

“What?” she hissed impatiently. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

The guard tipped his head toward the lobby and informed her, “That guy is here to get the rest of his payment for shooting that Sherril woman.”

Connor’s ears perked up at that information. Anne Sherril was dead? He felt sick.

“Oh, he’ll be well compensated,” Becker said crossly.

She stepped to the door then turned around, setting the syringe on a table. “That’s for you,” she eyed Elaine with disdain. “Something for you to look forward to when I return.” She gave a menacing smile before following her hired man out, closing the door behind her.

Elaine immediately shot a desperate look at Connor. “What are we going to do? We need to get you to a hospital now!”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“SWAT has been told to not come, you were injected with a dose of kronilan large enough to kill you, and you say don’t worry about it?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes in skepticism.

“It’s not going to kill me,” he replied, being sure to keep his voice low.

“What?” she screeched in disbelief. “How can you say that?”

“I’m immune to it,” he explained. “And,” he paused, “reinforcements are still coming.”

Elaine raised one eyebrow. “We both heard them say they were heading back.”

“I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That was Agents McKenzie and Rourke, giving a show for Becker’s benefit.” As Connor gave his explanation, Elaine’s eyes widened in understanding.

“Because they know Becker has your cell, they’re taking precautions in case she has your radio too and can hear what is being said over your radio!” she stated.

“Exactly, and,” Connor added, “SWAT is ten minutes away, but, when they supposedly turned around, the agents were going to be behind them-”

“So that means they are really in front of them,” Elaine finished for him. Then she paused, puzzled. “How can anyone be immune to a drug?” The hit on the head must be affecting him more than she thought.

“It’s true,” he pressed. “Before I went undercover ten years ago in this same organization, I took small doses of kronilan and slowly built it up. The first doses weren’t enough to do anything to me. I might get a little woozy from the large amount she gave me, but I should be fine.”

Elaine resisted the urge to shake her head. Let him believe that if he wanted to. She’d believe it when she saw it. Maybe the drug was already affecting him since he was making such an outrageous claim of being immune to a dangerous drug such as kronilan.

Connor knew Elaine thought he’d gone off his rocker, but there wasn’t time to continue arguing with her. The other syringe was sitting on the table, ready to be administered to Elaine. That wasn’t happening. Not on his watch. He could get them out of there, but they had to hurry before Becker came back.

“We’ve got to get loose,” Connor said with determination.

He pulled the zip tie taught, spreading his wrists and lifted his hips. Next, he brought his forearms up then sent them crashing down, the force of his forearms hitting his hip bones popped the ties. Connor immediately went to work freeing his feet, then turned to Elaine, who was staring at him with a stunned expression frozen on her face.

“Come on,” he told her, trying to get her moving. “You can do it too.”

“Right, boy scout,” doubt dripped from her words.

“Yes, you can. Watch.” Connor clasped his hands, as they had been when he was tied. “Spread your hands as far as they’ll go. You want to make the zip tie as tight as possible.” When she had done as he’d directed, Connor continued, “It’s going to be a little tricky since we’re both lying down, but you can do it. Lift your, uh, hip bones since that’s what your forearms are going to hit when you bring your arms down.” Connor wished she’d move faster. Once Elaine had gotten into position, he said, “Now do it.”

The first time she slipped and it didn’t work. The second try she got it. Elaine flashed him a smile. “That’s pretty good, boy scout.”

“We’ve got to somehow get rid of the ones around our ankles. Unfortunately, we can’t use the same technique for our ankles.”

A door slammed nearby. Connor and Elaine’s eyes met, both filled with fear. The tension in Connor’s body movements were filled with urgency. He scanned the room frantically, looking for a sharp object he could use to cut through the ties. If he could get his legs freed, he could take whoever was coming by surprise.

As it was, Connor dragged himself behind the door and struggled to stand. “Stay there,” he whispered.

Elaine nodded her agreement and swallowed hard.

Everything in Connor stilled when the door handle slowly turned. Taking in a quick breath, Connor braced for a fight. If they thought they were going to inject Elaine with the deadly drug, they were mistaken.

The door pushed open, a head appeared and Connor brought his fists down on the man’s head. The man fell and Connor, who’d lost his balance, along with him. He wrapped his arm around his opponent’s throat, catching him in a headlock.

Elaine’s eyes widened in surprise as recognition set in. “Jake?” She called Conner’s name frantically, “Connor! Stop! Let him go!”

He speared a glance at her. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” he huffed.

“It’s Jake Ramsey.”

Recognizing the name, Connor immediately slacked his hold on the man. “Ramsey! What are you doing here?”

Ramsey backed up, adjusting the collar on his shirt. “I came to get you guys out of here,” he told them.

“Wait,” Connor shot a glance between Elaine and Jake, “you two know each other?”

“Save the explanations for later,” Jake said, pulling out a knife and making quick work of the zip ties at their ankles. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

As she walked through the lobby, and turned to go down the hall to the row of offices, Becker saw the hit man standing with one leg hanging on the edge of the desk, his back toward her. Even though he didn’t seem to mind having someone approach him from behind, Becker could see that every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to spring into action if needed. As he heard her approach, he straightened and whirled around to face her.

Before he saw her though, his face was met with a hard punch and his head snapped backwards. Surprised, his hand came up to cover his eye. “What was that for?” he growled.

Becker stood in front of him with a disgusted look on her face. “That’s your pay. For the useless black eye you gave me at the safe house, when you were supposed to kill Anne Sherril!”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s still alive!”

“I never miss my mark. I even injured the guy that tried to stop me.” He narrowed his eyes as he stepped menacingly towards her, but halted when the guard behind her put his hand on the gun at his side. “Are you trying to back out of our deal?”

“I went into the house after that agent was taken to the hospital to see for myself if she was really still alive. She was!”

The man tensed his jaw. “That’s not possible.”

Becker crossed her arms. “She was wearing a Kevlar vest.” Calming her voice, Becker stepped to the side. “Now, I happen to know that there are only three agents at the house with her.” She dug a fist into the palm of her hand. “I don’t care who you have to take out to get to her. Just get it done!”

The red light on the dash flashed, rotating around continuously. Grant tapped his fingers rapidly on the steering wheel, watching the traffic light he was approaching. It wasn’t changing to green, and they were quickly closing the gap between them and the intersection. Evidently the tech guys were being slow in getting the lights to change for them.

“You think I need to call the tech?” Josh asked, right as the cross-traffic started slowing down for a red light.

“Maybe they’ve got it now,” Grant said through tight jaws, as he pressed the accelerator to the floor.

Josh tensed his hand around the shotgun he had pulled from the trunk as they were getting ready to leave the parking garage. “Let’s hope they do.”

“Yeah, and let’s hope they’re faster for SWAT when they come through.” Grant glanced at his rear-view mirror to see if he might catch a glimpse of flashing lights behind him. Nothing. “Where are they?”

Josh turned in his seat to look for himself. The radio on his belt made a noise, and he sat back down to listen carefully.

“Agents Rourke and McKenzie, this is SWAT Command. Come in.”

Grant heard the clip snap as Josh pulled the radio from his belt and put it close to his mouth. “Agent McKenzie here. Go ahead, SWAT Command.”

“We got slowed down, here. There was construction along the route. That road is impassable.”

Josh shot Grant a look of exasperation. “Where are you now?”

“Between M Street and Division, south bound on 17th. We had to turn around and head back to 13th, but we are en route now.”

Grant raised an eyebrow. “ETA?”

“SWAT Command, what is your ETA?” Josh asked for his partner.

“Approximately fifteen minutes.”

Grant blew out his breath. Fifteen minutes. Incredible. “Try calling Connor’s cell phone,” he ordered. “See if you can get through.”

Josh retrieved his phone from his pocket and punched in the speed-dial number for Connor. It seemed like minutes passed before it finally started ringing. Everything felt slow. He knew that was one of the effects of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Agent Fields’ phone,” a calm, feminine voice came over the speaker phone.

Grant jerked his head toward Josh, wide-eyed. “Shelby,” he mouthed silently.

“Agent Collins, this is Agent McKenzie.” He glanced over at Grant and tried to come up with something to say to the one person who might hold Connor’s life in her hands. “We heard Connor ask for backup. What is his status?”

Her voice sounded very steady as she replied, “Agent Fields was extracted safely. Sorry about that. I guess he didn’t radio in letting dispatch know all is okay.”

“No worries. Thanks for the update.” Josh pressed the end button.

Grant pushed down on the accelerator. “I don’t believe her,” he said.

“I don’t either,” Josh agreed. “If Connor is fine, as Shelby says, why did she answer his phone?”

“Right,” Grant said. “That’s one more strike against her.”

“It’s suspicious at best,” his partner commented.

Grant slammed a hand on the steering wheel in frustration. “If Shelby has Connor’s phone, we should assume she also has his radio, and can hear everything we can. If she does, she knows how far away SWAT is, and whether or not we call off the dogs.”

“I’ll call SWAT Command and inform them not to share any information that Shelby would find helpful.”

Josh made the quick call, and soon was off the phone. “Done.”

Grant nodded as he flew the car around a corner. “And now, to make Shelby think reinforcements have headed for-”

Josh braced himself right in time to keep from flying forward out of his seat as Grant swerved and slammed on the brakes.

A man dressed in a brown suit leisurely stepped into the street, chatting on his phone. The sound of Grant’s speeding car, then screeching brakes, caught him off guard and his previously serene face betrayed his shock, as he stumbled sideways. He saw the flashing light on the dash, and scrambled back towards the curb.

Each second the man took to comprehend what was going on ate up time. Precious time that could very well cost Connor his life.

Filtered sunlight sneaked through the dusty film on the clouded windows along the top of the exterior warehouse wall.

Deep, harsh voices echoed in the near empty building even as they kept their volume to mere whispers.

As Connor watched on, he fought the urge to run his finger along the inside of the collar of his dress shirt. He could hear his racing heartbeat pounding within his ears.

Any second his comrades would come bursting through the bay doors, guns blazing. This was a hard-core organization. No one expected any of its members to meekly trade their weapons for metal bracelets commonly known as handcuffs.

Connor and his partner, Kolt, had spent months deep undercover gathering information to take Becker’s drug organization down. They were hired as guards. While they kept an eye on the perimeter of the warehouse, they had the opportunity to also watch the goings on inside the building.

Today was the day Becker’s Empire would come crashing down. A transaction was taking place with one of Becker’s large distributors and the DEA was going to catch them in the act.

As if reading his mind, Kolt caught his eye and winked. Connor ignored the look as if he hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t risk getting caught.

“Hey!” the guy known as Rodriguez yelled. What are you doing?”

The question was directed at Kolt. The distributor looked at Kolt and narrowed his eyes. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

Kolt stood his ground. “No,” Kolt answered gruffly.

The man stepped closer. “I recognize the face.” He glanced at Becker. “I never forget faces.”

Becker shot a look between Kolt and his customer.

“You were part of a raid. A house was raided by the DEA and this guy was one of them,” the distributor announced.

The next few minutes it seemed they happened in slow motion but also in a split second simultaneously. Connor spotted the distributor’s bodyguard slip his hand under the lapel of his black suit jacket. He pulled it out, clutching a handgun.

Connor hesitated, not sure if there was a need to blow his cover. He didn’t want to do that prematurely. When he saw his partner’s hand fly for his weapon, Connor automatically reached for his weapon as well.

The bodyguard fired two rounds before Connor could get one off. He’d hesitated too long. As he ducked for cover, motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Horror filled Connor as he watched his partner fall. Kolt laid crumpled on the cold concrete floor.

Taking fire from the other bodyguards, Connor realized his attention had strayed away too long from the fray. His body jerked, and his arm burned like it was on fire. He looked down to see blood seeping through his shirt.

Confusion reigned as the bay doors were drawn up and DEA agents flooded into the warehouse, taking cover where they could.

Connor ducked under the long conveyor belt, crawling underneath to get some distance between him and the drug dealers.

Swinging his left leg forward, he felt a tug on his right leg and he went down on his stomach, hitting his chin on the hard surface. His body slid on the rough concrete. Connor lifted a hand to cup his chin when he felt a warm wetness. It was his own blood.

Connor struggled to his knees before feeling a swift kick to his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. He fought for breath.

The foot pulled back and came at him again. This time it was aiming for his face. Connor sprawled his body on the floor and grabbed the swinging foot. Using the momentum his adversary had created, he pulled forward, making the man fall onto his back.

In a flash, Connor wrapped a leg around his attacker’s neck, and pulled back with his hand on his ankle. He would have used his arm, but with his shoulder having been shot, it wasn’t possible. Beads of sweat trickled down his face and into his eyes. Ignoring it, Connor held onto his leg with the man struggling underneath him.

Connor saw something shiny out of the corner of his eye, but it was out of focus. Something cold and sharp sank into his soft flesh. Crying out, he felt the knife dig deep and twist.

---

The veins in Connor’s neck bulged as he yelled.

If she was free, Elaine would have laid a gentle hand on his arm to comfort him. She might even try to help him regardless of being held at gunpoint. But moving was impossible; her hands and feet were zip tied, making any movement with her limbs impossible.

“Connor,” she called his name softly.

His head thrashed from side to side from the agony.

“Connor,” she said again.

He seemed to fight with some unseen enemy.

She called louder, “Agent Fields.”

The man’s well-toned body stiffened. His eyes popped open. They looked half-crazed. Then he met Elaine’s worried stare.

“You okay?” she asked. She knew from experience the darkness that could grow from the job, stretching its shadowy fingers through the thin membrane that separated the memories from the past to the present.

He shut his troubled eyes and nodded his head halfheartedly. “Yeah – Ow!” he exclaimed, his hand instinctively going to the now bandaged knife wound.

“What was that all about?” she inquired with concern.

“It’s a long story,” he told her wearily.

“I don’t think I’d be wrong if I said we have some time,” she replied.

Connor sighed. “Fine.”

Elaine saw him visibly swallow.

“Before I came to work for the FBI nine and a half years ago, I worked for the DEA. Nearly eleven years ago my partner and I went on an undercover op. Our orders were to gather as much evidence against Becker as possible.

“We finally got all the evidence we needed. We were going to use a large drug shipment that Becker had arranged for one of his biggest distributors to catch him red-handed.” Connor winced and moved a hand over the bandage. “My partner got word to our superiors about the transaction and it was decided they would raid the warehouse in the middle of the exchange. Only that’s not how it went down.”

“What happened?” Bridget asked, fully drawn into the tale.

“My partner was recognized by the lieutenant that was in attendance. From there things went from bad to worse.” He cringed and let out a groan.

Elaine knew he was hurting.

“I’ll spare you the details,” he went on, “but I was carried out on a stretcher with a bullet in my shoulder, a head wound, and a broken nose.

“My partner was carried out in a body bag. It was my fault, I hesitated when I saw that guard reach for his gun. That was my biggest mistake. I let him kill my partner.” Pain contorted the FBI agent’s handsome face. “I might as well have been the one to pull the trigger.”

“How was he found out?” Bridget wanted to know.

“He was eager for this bust and he slipped up moments prior to our team storming the warehouse. One of the men caught on, eliminating our element of surprise.”

“So your partner made the mistake,” she pointed out softly. “You were only able to react.”

Connor’s eyes were fierce. “I should have had his back.”

“You did,” she was adamant, “but he brought attention to himself by making a rookie move.” Elaine drew his eyes with her own. “It’s not your fault,” she stressed the last few words.

Connor turned away from her. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see the nightmare of it all.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she agreed, “but, by the way you tell it, I can say you did your best with the situation you were in.”

He huffed a breath in frustration. How could this woman understand that what he’d gone through had shaken his entire being to the core?

Josh read the profile on the computer screen. “This guy, Conrad Phillips, has a rap sheet a mile long,” he commented.

“What’s he been arrested for?” Grant asked, turning away from researching Shelby.

“Breaking and entering, auto theft when he was younger. Disturbing the peace, attempted arson, possibly attempted murder, and the like, in the most recent years,” Josh listed off, then turned to his partner, leaning away from his desk.

“What kind of assault?”

Josh scrolled down on the screen. “He hurled a bottle through a window.”

Grant raised a brow and his tone when he asked, “A Molotov cocktail?”

“Yeah, the owner was home, but got out before the place went up in flames.” Josh drew his brows down and whipped his head back, “The charges were dropped,” surprise coloring his words. He looked over at his partner. “Makes you kinda wonder, doesn’t it?”

“You think the victims were threatened into dropping the charges?”

“Why not?” Josh reasoned, “He didn’t seem to have a problem targeting us when we were taking Anne to the safe house.”

“Yeah,” Grant said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

Josh topped his head at Grant’s computer and asked, “What are you finding on Shelby?”

“You know,” Grant began, “the more I think about it and dig, the more I believe Shelby could be our leak.”

“Why’s that?”

“For all the reasons Fields gave.”

“Yeah,” Grant conceded, “there’s also the connection between her and Avery Phillips,” he paused for a beat. “Didn’t you say that Shelby stopped by the office the other day?”

“Yeah,” Josh said, “She was in here alone for a few minutes.”

“Then she could have been the one who scratched the DVDs,” Grant pointed out.

“She sure could have!” Josh agreed.

The phone on Josh’s desk rang. He answered, “Agent McKenzie… Thank you.”

“Rourke, if you have any doubts about Shelby, we better put them to rest; Connor requested backup and Shelby responded,” Josh filled his partner in on the phone call. He typed in Shelby’s name, joining Grant in his investigation of the FBI agent. “I’ll check Shelby’s bank accounts.”

Josh didn’t have to spell it out for Grant. This situation could get desperate, fast.

Grant returned to digging deeper into Shelby’s past. If Shelby was the leak, they had been trusting Anne’s, and now Connor’s, safety to the wrong woman.

Grant and Josh frantically worked to find anything on Shelby Collins. Connor’s life could depend on the results they came up with.

Out of the corner of his eye, movement outside the open door caught Grant’s attention. “Hi, Tony.”

“Hey guys, how goes the sleuthing?” he greeted.

The forensic specialist wore a royal purple button up shirt with a gray sweater vest and slacks. His eyes were framed with black rimmed glasses and the frosted tips of his short brown hair stood up.

“Not as well as we’d like,” Josh replied.

“As you know,” Tony said, “I’ve been analyzing all of the evidence for the cases that you’re working on.”

“Tell us you’ve got something we can use,” Grant said, hopeful. The stress was getting to him.

“I’ve got the results from Anne’s grandma, Darlene Sherril’s, room.” His tone sounded hopeful, Grant noted. Tony continued, “I ran the tests 3 times and they all came back the same. I think your scene was contaminated.”

“Why?” Josh asked, before taking a sip of his tea. He made a face when he realized it had cooled.

“Because,” Tony explained, “there’s another fingerprint besides Darlene Sharril’s.” He exhaled. “The print belongs to an FBI agent.”

“Which FBI agent?” Grant inquired, slamming the drawer to the filing cabinet shut, the sound echoing off the walls.

Josh jerked his elbow back, knocking over his wheat grass drink in his hurry to see the result himself. “There weren’t any FBI agents on that scene.”

Tony looked from one partner to the other. “The agent’s name is Shelby Collins.”

The partners’ eyes collided. Josh’s held certainty, Grant caution.

“We don’t know for sure that it’s her,” Grant commented.

“Why not?” Josh questioned. “Her fiancé ran Connor and me off the road and shot at us.” He ticked the coincidences off with his fingers. “And her fingerprint shows up in a crime scene that she was nowhere near at the time it was being processed. Even if she had been, all authorized personnel were wearing gloves. I might also mention that Shelby was at the safe house, on guard, when her section of the perimeter was breached.”

Both agents were so involved in the conversation that they forgot about Tony. He shifted his feet, catching both Grant’s and Josh’s attention. “Here are the reports for you to go over.” Tony handed the folder to Grant. “I’ll go so you two can get back to work.”

“Thanks for getting this to us so quickly.” Grant accepted the offered papers.

“No problem.” Tony turned on his heel and walked out.

Grant set the papers on his desk, then turned back to Josh. “You forget that Shelby was also injured in that incident,” he pointed out.

Josh shook his head. “Superficial injuries,” he argued. “Why would they leave a witness alive? These guys are out for blood. They don’t care who they kill, or how many.”

“You’re right,” Grant agreed. “I don’t disagree, but I felt the other side of the coin needed to be heard.

“If it were only one or two of these incidents, I would say it’s only chance,” Josh’s voice rose as he slipped his arms into his coat and shrugged it on while he continued talking, “but add them together and I can see we have a case against Shelby Collins.”

Grant spun around and yanked his sports jacket off the rack. “We need to put together a tactical team and call SWAT.”

Grant answered his office phone. He paused to listen, then said, “Send him up.”

Josh looked from the computer screen to Grant with raised eyebrows.

“We’ve got a walk-in who says he can identify our John Doe.”

Relieved, Josh responded, “Finally, we can pin a name on at least one of the guys who was tailing us to the safe house.”

“Yeah,” Grant agreed.

The walk-in was a man in his thirties with blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes. He was wearing a tan t-shirt with gray rings around the short sleeves tucked into jeans. Before addressing the agents, the man thanked the person who had shown him the way to their office.

Grant, who was waiting by the door, offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Agent Rourke,” he nodded towards Josh, “my partner Josh McKenzie.”

“Avery Phillips.” Their visitor shook Grant’s hand, then Josh’s.

“We were told you can ID our John Doe,” Josh said.

“I’ve already been down to the morgue,” he replied, sadly. The inflection of sorrow in his words couldn’t be missed.

“Who is he?” Grant asked.

“My brother, Conrad Phillips,” he stated very matter-of-factly.

Josh expressed his sympathy, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Avery said.

Not wanting him to feel like he was being interrogated, Grant casually took a sip of his soda. “Where did your brother work?”

Avery drew his brows together. “He never would disclose the name of the company he worked for. It was a very top secret kind of project.” He sighed. “I even wondered if it was for some kind of government agency, he was so hush-hush about it.”

“When was the last time you saw your brother?” Grant inquired.

“About three weeks ago.”

Joshed relaxed his stance. “Did you know of your brother’s whereabouts during that time?”

“No, we never kept in close contact.” Avery shrugged. “Life happens, you know?”

“Can you tell us who would know of his more recent activities?” Josh slightly shifted his line of questions.

“You should talk to his fiancé,” he said. “She would be more likely to know what he’s been up to.”

“Can you give us his fiancé’s name?” Grant was content to let Josh interview Avery Phillips.

“Her first name is Alice. I don’t know her last name, but I can show you a picture.” Avery whipped his phone out of his jacket pocket and selected the photo gallery. Grant watched as a photo of the perpetrator at the beach popped up. The woman they knew as Shelby Collins was posing with him.

Grant’s heart sank to his feet as he realized he had been duped. Shelby’s name was Alice?

Though they didn’t know her well, both partners were surprised to find out that Shelby was the perpetrator’s fiancé. They were doubly shocked since neither knew she was engaged to be married.

Common sense kicked in. Maybe the photo was taken on an undercover op. That had to be the explanation.

Grant thanked Avery for his help in identifying Conrad Phillips’ body.

When the partners were left alone, neither said a word. This threw a new wrench into the investigation. They couldn’t ask Shelby. If she was in league with Becker, then they couldn’t tip their hand by asking her if she was participating in an undercover operation.

“Well,” Josh began slowly, “we have our first real break. I’ll run Phillip’s name to see what I can find on him.”

Grant nodded. “Cross reference Shelby while at it.”

“You think she’s part of Becker’s organization?” Josh asked. “She was probably undercover.”

“Then why didn’t she tell us that?” Grant returned with his own question. “She’s had plenty of opportunities to do so.”

“Okay, I’ll run it,” Josh complied.

Something was nagging at Grant. Surely Shelby would be smarter in who she chose for a life partner. She must have been duped, though that would be surprising, simply because she was a very astute person. Or, a feeling of dread came over him, she was their leak.

---

Having accomplished his first goal for the day, Connor drove over to IMS and walked briskly up toward the building. The parking lot was nearly empty, he’d noted on the way in. Strange for such a large company to completely shut down over the weekend.

The sound of voices floated down the hall when he opened the door and walked inside. He ducked behind the reception desk, choosing to not let anyone know he was on the premises. Two men passed and he decided to follow and see what they were up to.

Connor didn’t see Elaine who was coming out of one of the offices.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him round a corner. Elaine cocked her head in curiosity. He’s not supposed to be here today.

Being sure to stay far enough behind so they wouldn’t discover him, Connor trailed them to a large area that he realized was a loading dock. He hid behind a wall of boxes as he watched a semi-truck back up to the ramp.

A man in a forklift waited for the door to be rolled up on the truck so he could start unloading it. Several other employees were also standing around observing as they waited for the boxes to be brought in to begin their part of the process.

When the first few crates had been unloaded, Connor crept around to get a closer look. A torn box with white powder dusting the cardboard and floor below it snagged his attention.

Glancing over his shoulder to be sure he hadn’t been seen, he figured he had enough time to check the contents of the box without being noticed. He quietly crossed the space, sidling up to the packages, and peaked in.

Several paper packages filled with white powder were packed tightly together. The contents of a broken package had spilled out onto a few of the others surrounding it. Connor pinched the substance and tasted it, positive of what it was going to tell him. He screwed his face up. His suspicions were right. Kronilan.

“Hey!”

Surprised, Connor jerked his head in the direction of the shout. Charging towards him from down the long aisle was a large reddish-blonde bearded man in a muscle shirt.

In one swift moment, Connor knew his cover was blown, again. If he took this guy on, others would come to assist the burly man before he could get away. There was only one option Connor could think of to stay out of their clutches.

Run.

He streaked away, heading for the docking exit. Digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he then hit the speed dial as he ran.

“Agent needs assistance at the IMS warehouse!” Something whizzed by his ear and he ducked. “Shots fired! Repeat, shots fired!” Changing direction, he passed under a larger shelf for cover.

Connor sought cover behind another wall of boxes and worked his way through the maze of packages.

Judging by the noise behind him, others had joined the search.

Then he heard something on the other end of the phone and he strained to hear what was being said.

“Sam56 is en-route.” Connor heard the voice say.

Sam 56 was Shelby.

Still agitated, he asked, “What’s her ETA?”

“Five minutes.”

Five minutes. There was a very good possibility he would be dead by the time help arrived. For the moment, he’d lost the men that were after him. He noticed a door a few feet away. Connor checked to see if the coast was clear. When he didn’t see anyone, he opened it quietly and slipped into another large room.

The room was filled with more boxes. Seeing that they were empty, he began arranging them to hide his presence. If he could hold them off until Shelby got there, Connor would have a fighting chance.

After the blind had been erected, Connor settled in to wait. These would be the longest five minutes of his life.

For the moment, he had time to think. How had his cover been blown? Who was the leak? Or was it the leak?

Connor thought of the receptionist he’d had ice cream with and asked himself if she had tipped Becker off his undercover op. Connor didn’t put it past her.

If she ratted him out, that could get her into Becker’s good graces and help confirm her cover even more.

He swiped at the beads of sweat on his top lip and forehead. He hadn’t planned on getting into a gun fight today. Today was supposed to have only been an information gathering op, not an extraction.

They were getting close. Connor felt his heart rate pick up. He had to get out of there. The relief he felt when he heard help was on the way gave Connor renewed hope.

Shelby was one person, making a grand total of two agents on the premises. Both Connor and Shelby were highly trained agents and had trained together as a team. This was one of the many scenarios they had been drilled on.

Connor slipped through the door back out to the loading dock where he had directed Shelby to go. He laid low, being careful not to bring attention to himself in that ill lit section. The suspects were using flashlights as they continued their search.

Something brushed his arm, startling Connor. He turned to see Shelby standing beside him. She had sneaked up on him without making any noise.

Giving her a smile, Connor bumped his arm against hers in camaraderie. “Great to see you,” he said in barely a whisper.

Following suit, she kept her voice to a whisper as she jokingly accused, “Decided to start the party without me, huh?”

“You know me, never a dull moment,” he retorted.

Connor’s eyes never stopped moving, surveying the area around them. The men had moved to the left of the loading dock. “If we head that direction,” he pointed, “we should be able to hold our own.”

Expecting Shelby to follow, Connor started to stand, but was surprised when he felt the cold, metal barrel of a gun through the thin t-shirt he wore. He knew Shelby had his back, so how did this guy sneak up on them?

When Connor saw who the person holding the weapon was, his blood ran cold and his gut tightened. Her eyes looked hard as metal as she glared at him.

“Shelby?” He swallowed. “What’s going on?”

“The game is over, Fields.” Her voice had changed to steel.

“What game?”

“The game where I play an FBI agent,” she replied, from her crouched position.

“What?” Connor asked, confused but was working to buy time.

Shelby started to stand. Taking advantage of the precarious opportunity, his instinct took over. Connor forced the hand that held the gun outward as he swiped his foot between her legs, hooked his heel behind hers, and pulled his leg back. The last action tipped Shelby’s body forward, causing her to lose her balance. She landed hard on the concrete floor.

Connor stepped on her wrist, forcing Shelby to release the gun. She growled deep in her throat in frustration.

The growl changed to a cry of pain. Shelby struggled to lean on her elbow and bit Connor’s leg. The wince was enough for her to throw him off balance. Both lunged for the gun and their fingers wrapped around the handle.

Connor fell to the floor, joining Shelby. He knew in their position that neither he nor Shelby had leverage on their side, making their struggle intense.

Shelby let out a roar of anger. Connor saw the gun was pointed down at his leg. He felt her hand tense over his, attempting to squeeze the trigger. If the gun went off, the slug would fly into his thigh.

Valiantly, Connor awkwardly fought to release the gun, trying to open his hand, but Shelby had the advantage of curling her hands in the natural position of least resistance.

A shot rang out and Connor felt the bullet pierce through his skin and bite into his leg. Excruciating, burning, white-hot pain streaked up and down his lower leg.

Connor let out a yell of pain, releasing the weapon to cradle his leg.

Shelby’s expression was smug as she turned the gun on him once more.

Connor met Shelby’s blazing eyes. The feeling of betrayal was acute. “Who are you?”

“You know me by my reputation as Becker.”

“B- but, you would have been a kid when I infiltrated the organization the first time.”

“Yeah,” she flung her hand flippantly, “dad and I didn’t always see eye to eye on things. When I got old enough to take over his enterprises, I had him taken out.” Shelby gave a pitiful face. “Too bad, but the old man was stifling my potential.” She smiled proudly, standing tall. “And look what I’ve done. I’ve built up the organization to more than dad ever could.”

Never would he have guessed that Shelby, someone who he had worked with for years, someone he had considered a friend, was so closely related to the man who had caused him trouble for the last decade. Connor curled his lip up in disgust, hating the burning of her betrayal in his chest. “I trusted you!”

“I know.” Shelby knocked him on the side of the head.

“You knew who I was when you joined my unit, didn’t you?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Of course, I knew. I had to work hard to restore my enterprise after you nearly disintegrated it.” She laughed. “I’d say this is poetic justice.”

“You’re twisted if you think capturing me is poetic justice.”

“Shut up, Fields.” She smacked Connor on the side of the head with her pistol.

Instant throbbing reverberated through his skull. The sensation of blood tingled as it trickled down the side of his face. He lifted a hand to his head and it came away red, covered with his own blood.

This was not how he planned to end his evening. Eating ice cream and talking with a supposedly fellow law enforcement officer was the last thing he expected.

“Why did you cover for me?” Connor asked the question that had been burning inside his head, lifting a spoon of cookie dough ice cream to his lips.

Her answer didn’t hold a hint of hesitancy. “Because I believe we’re on the same side.”

“Which side is that?” He didn’t want to give his position away if this woman ended up being on the wrong side.

“The right one.”

“You’re being quite vague,” Connor stated. He scrunched his face in disgust, and spat his next question, accusing, “You’re not a cop, are you?”

She squared her shoulders. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

Connor was done beating around the bush. “Look lady, I have a lot at stake with this company. If there’s going to be trouble, tell me now.”

“I think you’re the one who’s going to make trouble.” Without skipping a beat, she said lightly, “Oh, here’s your change.” Bridget slid a couple of bills across the table.

“Change?” he asked, confused. “I paid with a credit card.”

“Just take it!” she hissed.

Connor reached for the money. Under the bills, he discovered a DEA agent’s ID card. Her picture was printed on it.

“I took your picture earlier and ran it on my recognition software,” she informed him. “The results were quite surprising, I must say.”

Connor’s shoulders stiffened. “Stay out of my investigation,” he ordered.

“This was my investigation long before it was yours, buddy,” she retorted. “If either of us is going to warn the other away, it should be me warning you.”

“When did you first begin working this case?” he questioned, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms.

“Six months ago,” she stated defensively.

“I’ve been on this case for ten years,” Connor said.

Bridget looked at him quizzically. “How is that possible when you were hired today?”

“I was deep undercover,” he said, “things went sideways. There was a bloodbath.” Connor willed the images away that plagued his mind. “I was one of the fortunate ones. I spent weeks in the hospital and months of recovery.”

Connor met her eyes, challenging, “So I’d say this baby is mine.”

“Not so fast, buster,” Bridget replied. “Look, I’m sorry you were hurt, but like you, I have a job to do. And I intend to see it through.”

“I’m not going to let you push me out.” He was adamant. This was his chance to fix what he had botched in his first undercover op and Connor wasn’t giving it up.

“Then I see only one way to do this,” she sighed. “We work together.”

“What?” he said incredulously. “I don’t think so. How am I to know that you’re legit?” Connor waved his hand at the plastic on the table. “Anyone can print up one of those cards you showed me.”

“You’re right,” she gritted her teeth, “but, in this case, I didn’t.” Bridget was beginning to feel impatience dogging at her heels.

She stood and slipped the card into her pocket. “I’ll let you think about it. If you decide to work together on this, let me know.” A breeze picked up, blowing a strand of hair into her face. She swiped it aside. “I’ll give you until 8:00 tomorrow morning to contact me. Otherwise, I can give my boss a reason to fire you, and you’ll be out by noon on Monday.” With that, Bridget walked out of the ice cream parlor.

Connor watched from the table as she walked to her car. What was he to do with this situation?

---

Sleep eluded Connor that night and he showed up at the DEA headquarters with a large triple-shot latte. He would need all of his brain power this morning as he laid to rest his suspicions regarding Grant and Josh. He’d used the night hours to verify that they were good agents.

Josh, who was drinking something green, was reading from a stack of papers he held in his hand. Connor glanced over at Grant and found him reading at his desk as well.

“Studying for a test?” Connor greeted them with his dry humor.

Both agents looked up at Connor’s voice. “The original police report from the convalescent home where Anne Sherril’s grandmother died.”

“I thought since they chalked it up to natural causes there wouldn’t be a report.” Connor drew his brow together in confusion at Josh’s statement.

“After the discovery of kronilan found in her body…” Josh paused to take a sip of his green drink. Connor couldn’t stifle a shiver. How did the guy enjoy drinking that stuff?

Grant rolled his eyes and finished, “A couple of officers went to question the ones who oversaw her care at the convalescent home.”

“I see.” The paper he carried was burning his arm. Connor couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to what he had to say.

Changing the subject, he asked casually, “Have either of you read the paper this morning?”

When both partners replied in the negative, Connor walked over to Grant and slapped the newspaper on his desk. “We’ve got a leak.”

Grant opened the folded paper and read the headline. “Tox Results Reveal Kronilan In Anne Sherril and Grandmother’s Systems.” In smaller print below the headline read, “Could Drug Abuse Be a Family Skeleton?”

Standing abruptly, Josh pushed his chair back and went to read over Grant’s shoulder. “That was privileged information.”

“Which is why I said we have a leak,” Connor repeated emphatically.

Besides reading the headline aloud, Grant had remained silent. Josh moved to stand beside the desk. “What are you thinking, Grant?”

Relaxing his tensed hands, Grant looked between the two men. “Who do you think talked?”

“It could be any number of people,” Josh said. “The doctor we took Anne to works in the ER. He could have found out about Anne’s grandmother and put two and two together.”

“Would he risk his career for that?” Connor looked doubtful.

Josh shrugged. “There are always the nurses.”

“No,” Connor disagreed. “Anne never went to the hospital, right?”

The partners shot each other a glance. “She did when she first took the prescription medication.” Grant ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Then I say we need to look there,” Connor said.

Josh looked uneasy.

Grant noticed and inquired, “What is it, Josh?”

Josh looked to Connor. “Would anyone from your unit say anything?”

“My people are trustworthy,” Connor replied.

“We all know there are dirty agents within both of our agencies,” Grant said. “It happens whether we like it or not.”

“I also know them.” Connor wasn’t backing down. The people in his unit didn’t deserve to have their integrity questioned. “They are all good people. We talked about this already.”

“All right,” Grant said, backing down. “Let’s take a closer look at the hospital then.” He raised an eyebrow at Josh. “You want to check on that while I follow up with Anne about the hit man?”

“I can do that,” Josh agreed. “I’ll start with the ER doctor.”

“I ran into something unexpected at IMS.” Connor was hesitant.

“What was it?” Grant inquired. “Not a ‘what.’ A who.” Grant cocked his head.

“There’s a receptionist who is an undercover agent.”

“And she willingly gave up this information why?” Josh’s expression was one of skepticism.

“She found me going through the files in the office. We fought and when I had her pinned down, she whispered the color of the day for undercovers.” Both agents raised their brows.

“A few moments after I released her, a security guy found us. She made an excuse and got us out of there. We left the building and she showed me her creds. It looks legit, but I’d like you to check into it. I’m not sure if she’s testing me or if she’s really an agent.”

“What’s her name?” Josh had a pen and paper ready.

“Elaine Jackson.”

He wrote the name down. “I’ll get on it and let you know if I find anything.”

Connor thanked him, then said he wanted to snoop around IMS. “It might be quiet there today. I’ll try to get into the office again, but if not, maybe I’ll find some other kind of evidence.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Grant said, ending the conversation.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Greg’s phone. Hopefully the results would be different from the last time he’d had to question Anne. Everyone was still waiting for her to remember what had happened the night of the kidnapping.

Greg answered, “Hey, Grant.”

“Hi,” he replied. “How’s the bullet wound?”

“Pain’s manageable.” Greg cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “How’s the case coming?”

“We’re doing everything we can to solve it.”

“Meaning what?”

Grant sighed. “We’re still following leads. These guys are good. Very professional and they cover their tracks to where you wonder if you’re chasing a phantom.”

“So, if I’m understanding this right, you’re saying you don’t even know who you’re after yet?” Greg questioned.

Frustration clawed at Grant. He hated being this far into an investigation with no results. “I wish I could say otherwise, but yes.” Grant rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m doing my best, Greg.” Weariness was threaded through the words.

“I know you are,” Greg said. “Nobody is saying otherwise. You’re good at your job. You’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Thanks for your confidence in me, Greg,” Grant said, not feeling deserving of it.

“It’s the truth.” Greg changed the tone of the conversation. “Were you calling for anything specific?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to Anne about last night.”

“Just a sec.” Grant heard muffled sounds in the background and Anne came on. “Hello, Grant?”

“Hi Anne. I have a couple of questions to ask you about last night. Do you mind?”

“No,” she replied. “Actually, because of what happened last night, I remembered the kidnapping.”

“Do you remember any specifics?”

“Not really. It was dark most of the time. All I remember is the dark blue cargo van and the size of the man. It was like he was a bodybuilder with big muscular arms. His chest felt like a wall, it was so hard. Oh, and his voice.”

“He spoke to you?”

“Yes.”

Grant could tell she was feeling the effects of the trauma she had been through. “Take your time, Anne.” He scratched his head. “Did you recognize his voice?”

She thought for a moment and Grant imagined her shaking her head as she said, “No.”

“Would you recognize it if you heard it again?” “Maybe,” she sounded unsure.

“Okay.” Grant jotted down the little she was able to give him of the kidnapper. “Let’s move on to last night. Tell me about it.”

“Greg and I were in the den when the house alarm sounded, then turned off. Greg told me to go to my room while he checked it out. When I got into my room there – there was a man standing by my window dressed in black from head to toe. I was so scared. Greg says I screamed, but I don’t remember screaming. Although my throat was sore for a while afterward.”

“You say he was dressed in black. Is there anything you can tell me about him? Anything at all? The way he walked, smelled, the color of his eyes.” “Skunk,” Anne didn’t hesitate.

“I know he’s a skunk.” Grant was surprised that sweet Anne had called the perpetrator a name, but he agreed that the guy was a skunk. “He’s actually worse than that. That’s why we’re trying to catch him.”

“No,” Anne was firm. “You asked what he smelled like. He stunk like a skunk!”

Grant’s eyebrows rose and he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “Seriously?”

“It was horrible!” she exclaimed. “My room still smells like skunk.”

“Okay,” he couldn’t help the snicker that slipped out with the word.

“Are you laughing at me?” He heard her muffled voice say, “He’s laughing at me.” She must have been talking to Greg.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said. “The way you said ‘stunk like a skunk’ was funny,” Grant defended himself.

Usually, Anne would have laughed along with him, but she wasn’t acting like herself. Grant remembered Greg had said she could get testy during her detox and decided to let it slide. For her sake, he sobered. “Can you tell me anything else?”

“His eyes were blue. They reminded me of the blue sky.”

“Liked them, did you?” Grant couldn’t help it. He had to tease her, knowing her favorite color was blue. “Grant Rourke, you’re despicable!”

Maybe not the best time to joke around.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Regret and embarrassment bit at his conscience. “Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay. Thanks, Anne.”

---

Anne huffed, tossing the phone down beside her on the couch and hugged her new dog. “He didn’t take me seriously, Greg.”

“I believe he did, Sweetie,” Greg replied softly, holding a hand over his wound.

“How do you know?” Her face crumpled into disappointment, rubbing the top of Todo’s head.

“Because using humor is Grant’s way of coping with his job.” Greg ran his hand over the dog’s back, feeling its soft corkscrew curls. “He did listen to you and I can guarantee he’ll add your description to the notes in the case.”

When his words didn’t seem to help, he added, “I worked with Grant for years. I was obsessed with my work. Grant would sometimes try to be humorous.” His fingers found hers in the dog’s thick hair and he held on. “Don’t let it bother you.”

“Don’t let it bother me?” Her eyebrows rose as well as her voice. “Someone is trying to kill me and you say not to let it bother me?” Anne stood. “Greg Nelson, if I didn’t love you so much your face would be stinging from my slap.”

Greg followed her up and he placed a hand on her arm as she turned to leave the room. “Anne.” The gentleness in his voice made her pause. When her eyes met him, he continued, “Remember what I told you about things being out of proportion and feeling angry while going through detox?”

Realization dawned in her beautiful green eyes, changing to regret. Turning back to fully face him, she laid a hand on his other arm. “Oh, Greg, I’m sorry.” She brushed a section of hair behind her ear as she said, “I can’t seem to control it. I hate this feeling of total wildness; my feelings are so hard to keep under control.”

“It’s okay.” Greg slipped a strand of hair she’d missed behind her ear. “We’re in this together and we’ll get you through this.”

Anne sighed. “I hope you’re right.” She rested her forehead against Greg’s arm for a couple of moments. When she lifted it, she found Shelby watching them from the entrance of the room.

Anne smiled. “Hey Shelby.”

“Hey.” She stuck her hands in her back pockets. “I’m going back to town today. Do you want me to pick up anything at your house for you?”

Greg saw Anne brighten. “Some more clothes would be great. I didn’t have time to pack anything before coming out here.”

Shelby nodded. “Do you want me to get anything specific?”

Greg extracted himself from such talk by saying, “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll go see how security is doing.”