Page 40

J ordan had spent the better part of the day driving up and down to the J.

Edgar Hoover Building, fighting rush hour traffic on the beltway, and feeling a whole new appreciation for commuters who didn’t commit road rage.

He strode into his new temporary office, dumped his bag on the desk.

Shrugged out of his jacket. He spotted Ackers about to head home and strode out to intercept him.

“Any news?” Ackers kept his voice low.

“Yes.” He moved closer. “Apparently, Montana sent a photograph of a woman called Rowena Smith to SIOC and asked for a background check on her Monday night.” He paused when he heard footsteps.

Shane Livingstone, one of the Gold team assaulters, came into view.

He wore a cast on the arm he’d broken during a nasty op at a courthouse last month—a break that had probably saved his life.

Jordan nodded to Shane and would have called out a greeting, but Ackers drew him back into his office. Shut the door.

“Who is she?”

“British national in Zimbabwe visiting family. No criminal history. No known criminal associates. She’s a librarian from Shropshire—attended Oxford. I recognized her though. She was in Vic Falls at the same time we were.”

Ackers’ brow puckered. “Where did Kurt spot her on Monday?”

“A popular restaurant in Harare.”

“Was she following him?”

Jordan pulled a face. “Maybe. Or maybe he was being rightfully cautious when he saw the same face in two locations. I would have run her too.”

She was pretty. Hard not to notice a woman like that.

Ackers frowned. “He didn’t mention her to you when you spoke?”

Jordan shook his head. “It was a terrible line. If he did mention her, I didn’t hear it.”

Ackers heavy wrinkles bunched. “Did he take his personal cell? Did the task force check that?”

Jordan rubbed the stiffness from the back of his neck. “It crapped out in DRC after a particularly heavy rainfall. He said he’d replace it when he got home.” The fact Kurt was never coming home hit him again. Hard.

“Dig into this woman. See what you can discover. If she checks out, then try to talk to her. See if she has an explanation for being where she was or if she remembers seeing Kurt.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Anything else?”

Jordan pulled a face. “Electricity went down almost countrywide not long after the crash, and the cell towers were out of commission for more than twenty-four hours. Not unusual, but the length of time meant lack of communications significantly impeded the response to the crash and the recovery operation.” His voice roughened.

“They still haven’t identified Kurt’s body among all the others. ”

“It could take some time, especially if we have to rely on DNA.” Ackers sighed heavily. “What a shit way to die. ”

Agreed.

“Any news on the Bjorn Anders murder?” asked Jordan.

“Nothing the team at SIOC can glean through official channels.”

Ackers stroked his mustache. “Some days it sucks having to play by the rules.”

Jordan was willing to throw the handbook in the trash.

He just didn’t know where to start or what he was looking for, if anything.

First and foremost, they needed to know if the crash was an accident or deliberate.

If it was deliberate, who was behind it?

Until that had been determined there was little he, or the US, could do, rules or no rules.

A yawn caught Jordan by surprise. “Sorry, boss.”

Jetlag had kicked in again, and he was exhausted to the bone.

“Time to get home. You call the locals for an escort yet? I cleared it with VSP.” He searched his desk and handed him a piece of paper with a Virginia State Police phone number. “Local switchboard will have someone in the general area and available when you need them.”

“I’d hoped to put in another hour before going home?—”

“Leave it.” Ackers patted his arm. “Call the number and get the hell out of here. As much as it sucks, Kurt Montana is still going to be gone tomorrow. He wouldn’t want you to work yourself to death tying up a few loose ends.”

Jordan bristled. “I’m not working myself to death, boss.”

Ackers looked at him. “Armstrong have any progress on the Hurek investigation?”

“No. HQ are talking about upping the reward to $250,000.”

“Hell, I might go freelance for that. Maybe it’ll help.” Ackers opened his door and indicated Jordan go ahead of him. He turned and locked the door. “Get on home now. That’s an order.”

Jordan nodded and grabbed his jacket off the back of the office chair he hadn’t even sat in yet.

He left the laptop where it was on the desk and locked the door.

Called the number for the VSP on the way to his EV and found the trooper waiting for him at the main junction.

He headed home half hoping the sonofabitch from last night would try something again.

Unfortunately, not.

The trooper tailing him a few hundred yards behind radioed as they neared his property. “You want me to come in and help you check the place?”

The trooper’s voice held a tone he hadn’t expected. Sexy. Sultry.

“I’m good. Thanks for the backup.” No one had gone inside according to his security monitor. TacOps were sending techs down tomorrow morning to install a better system of motion sensors and high-spec cameras around the property.

“Anytime, sugar.”

Jordan reached his driveway, and the cruiser followed behind. The officer slid down her window, a pretty blonde with a confident smile and a flirty gaze. Then she turned the patrol vehicle in the wide arc and slowly rolled away.

He went inside, a chill rushing over him.

Was the heating off? He turned on the lights and couldn’t resist drawing his weapon as he went downstairs to check the furnace.

The pilot light had gone out, so he relit it and went back upstairs.

Headed into the bedroom ready to collapse on the bed in pure exhaustion. Hesitated.

He’d placed his and Montana’s big black kit bags against one wall in his bedroom beneath the window. He was positive he’d put his on the top because he might need things out of his, but he didn’t need anything out of Kurt’s. Now Kurt’s bag was on top.

Krychek slid his hand back onto his 1911 and called the trooper back. “Hey, can you take a quick swing by? I think there’s been an intruder.”

“10-4.”

He went to call Ackers. Paused. If he told Ackers he thought someone had been in his house, his boss would insist he go into some kind of protective custody, which would be both a pain in his ass and a burden on precious resources.

The surveillance being installed tomorrow would be monitored by the techs at TacOps, and he’d get those same techs to check his current security system to see if someone had tampered with it.

And if he pretended he hadn’t noticed, maybe they’d feel emboldened enough to come back, and they’d catch them in the act with the additional surveillance measures.

And what if he’d mixed the bags up in his exhaustion? They looked almost identical, and the last thing he wanted was for Ackers to think he was losing his mind. He scrubbed his face with his free hand.

He did a thorough sweep of the inside of his home, going over every inch, including taking the cover off the furnace and checking in case someone had put explosives inside. Nothing. There was a firm knock on the door, and he went upstairs and checked the camera. The trooper was back.

He opened the door. “Hey. Sorry. False alarm. I cleared the place. Apologies for wasting your time.”

The light in her eyes changed, and a different kind of smile touched her cherry red lips. “Oh, well now. Perhaps I should take a quick look as I’m here?”

She came inside, hips swaying in her trim blue-gray uniform as she glanced around with interest. “As I don’t have much time, how about I start in the bedroom?” She looked over her shoulder expectantly as she walked away.

Jordan stood there in shock. Did she think he’d called her for a booty call?

She knew he was FBI. Maybe she had a thing for G-men or wanted sex with a stranger who wasn’t likely to be a threat to her or her career.

He flipped the lock out of habit and stood there indecisively for a few seconds.

He headed slowly into the bedroom, wondered if he was hallucinating.

She’d tossed her hat onto the dresser and unbuttoned her neat jacket.

“Trooper— ”

“Mires. Ellen Mires.” Her fingers had already undone enough buttons on the plain gray shirt to reveal the top edge of a lacy black bra.

“Ellen.” He cleared his throat. “I, er, think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“No misunderstanding.” She removed her weapon and placed it beside her hat, then walked toward him and slid a hand around his neck to bring him closer.

“But, like I said, I don’t have much time.

” She bit his lip hard enough to hurt, and he pulled back in surprise.

That stab of pain was the first thing to penetrate his dark fog since Kurt had died.

She pressed against him, and he found himself reacting physically to her. This woman, this stranger. Not because he wanted her necessarily, but because the lure of sex was better than the numbness and grief currently engulfing him.

And she wasn’t pretending this was something it wasn’t.

She tugged his T-shirt out of his pants and dragged it over his head.

He put his weapon in the bedside drawer.

Pushed her jacket off her shoulders. Undid the buttons of her shirt and cupped a full breast. She gripped him back.

Worked him. Stripped them both. Rolled a condom on him and then rode him like a rodeo queen.

Afterwards she kissed him lightly on the mouth and quickly put her uniform back on. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

He stared at the ceiling. Stunned. Bemused. “Knock yourself out.”

He forced himself to get off the bed. To ditch the condom he wouldn’t have thought of if she hadn’t.

Shit .

He walked her to the door. The fact he was naked didn’t seem to bother her.

She slipped him her card. “If you need another escort tomorrow, call me up. I’ll make sure I’m available to you.”

She batted her eyelashes at him, and he gulped. He stood staring blankly into space after she left .

He locked the door and reset the alarm. Turned off the lights and leaned against the wall.

Had he dreamed that whole thing? He wasn’t sure.

Was Ackers right about him working too hard?

No. Never. But he was so tired he swayed in place.

He headed to the bathroom for a quick shower then fell into bed.

Ellen Mires’ business card and the scent of sex hanging in the air were the only things that suggested she’d ever really been there.