Page 17 of Facing the Enemy

Should I contact the SAC with my dilemma or act like a big girl and decide how to proceed? In the past, I’d prayed for direction, but now I was on my own.

I used my new burner phone and pressed in Gage’s burner number. Did he still have the same phone? I wrestled with if I wanted him to pick up or let it ring. I needed his wisdom and guidance, even if I had to swallow a little pride. My instincts told me I needed to swallow a whole lot of pride.

He answered, and I nearly lost my nerve and hung up.

“Hello,” he repeated.

“Gage, this is Risa.”

“Are you okay?” His words jumbled from his mouth.

I braved ahead, squeezing my eyes shut to ward off unprofessional tears. “I have a situation. Can you talk?”

“I’m at home. Jack Bradford is with me.”

“Your new partner?” I hoped envy didn’t seep through my words while I pretended that I wasn’t aware of him and Jack.

“Yes. Hold on, and I’ll move to my office.”

I’d seen in the FBI files that Jack and Gage had partnered. Oddly enough, I felt betrayed when I’d been the one to take action. When Gage rejoined me, I relayed Carson’s story and its uncanny resemblance to the night of Trenton’s death.

“A background on this kid goes a long way.”

Telling Gage I already had researched him meant confessing to a leave from the FBI instead of a resignation. “Would you pull his record? I’m asking quite a bit, which—”

“No problem. This is necessary. Hang on while I read it.”

The moments ticked by. Did I want Gage to find that Carson had a record when I hadn’t? My confidence in managing my FBI career had dipped below sea level. Honestly, I wanted answers more than if I’d misjudged one of my students.

“Here’s what I have,” Gage said. “No traffic violations. No record. He lives with his mother and stepdad—Ethan and Lynn Mercury.”

“Sounds like he’s a typical nineteen-year-old kid who couldn’t have fabricated his story about his English professor’s former life.”

“Have you asked him to explain it?”

“He left today on a road trip with friends. I don’t have his cell number or his parents’ phone at home, but I have an address.”

“Risa, you recovered more in one night than the FBI and HPD have learned in months. The kid’s story isn’t a coincidence. I’ll be at your apartment in twenty minutes. We’ll interview the parents together.”

“That’s impossible—”

“Risa. I’m a part of this case. Email me the story and anything you’ve missed or haven’t told me.”

“What about Jack?”

“He and I will continue working our case in the morning. About to wrap it up for the night anyway.”

I didn’t believe him. “Are you sure? I can call later.”

“No. This is good.”

“Take down this number. It’s a new burner.” I gave him the numbers and hoped I wasn’t making a terrible mistake. I wanted to see Gage. Desperately. And I needed his wisdom to figure this out, but fear crawled into my heart. Was anyone still keeping tabs on me?

“I’ll email the story and be waiting out front.” Had I chosen selfishness?

10

GAGE