Page 87 of Missing Justice

Not waiting for a response, he led Taylor down the hall and closed the door behind them.

“Honey,” he said, “I’m sorry. You can’t come with me.”

“Sure I can. I’m acting as a private citizen, consulting with your firm. Remember?”

Did he ever. “Yes, but the last time you met with Walt, it was on behalf of the FBI. We weren’t there together. No matter what we think he’s hiding, he’s still my client and you’re an FBI agent. Even on suspension.”

“And you signed an NDA.”

Non-disclosure agreement. “I did. Plus, Walt isn’t exactly your biggest fan.”

As irritated as she must have been, she hid it well. No pissy pressed lips or glaring looks.

“I understand,” she said. “If the roles were reversed, I’d tell you the same.”

“If you want, stay here. Work from my office. I shouldn’t be gone long. When I get back, we’ll huddle up.”

* * *

The Schock office was quiet. Too quiet.

Taylor was used to the hustle and bustle of the Bureau with the constantly ringing phones and people rushing to meetings.

Here it was the opposite. Matt was gone, Charlie was busy, and Meg was having coffee with a friend.

Taylor checked her phone for messages. The same as five minutes ago. Beck had texted her five times. Janiece two. No calls from Teeg or Grey.

Beck and Janiece were keeping her abreast of the shitstorm at the Bureau that Grey’s highjacking of the Jarvis case had caused. Everyone, from Cunningham down to Leo, was blaming her.

It felt righteously good to be the thorn in their side right now, even though Grey was the one who’d stuck it there.

Beck had brought her up-to-date on the fact that he’d checked all the area hospitals and no one fitting the description of her attacker had turned up with a gunshot wound. No surprise there. Whoever had broken into her condo and evaded the parking garage security in an attempt to mess with her car was no amateur. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to go to a public hospital for treatment, and the wound hadn’t been life threatening. Anyone with basic medical treatment could probably handle patching him up.

Especially someone who might have medical training and a military background.

She had the list of silver trucks, she just needed access to Teeg’s software. Matt’s laptop had gone into sleep mode waiting for that access. Until Teeg did his magic, Taylor was stuck twiddling her thumbs.

Rocking back in Matt’s office chair, she studied his desk. Solid, honey oak. Very pedestrian for such an energetic guy, but he might not have had any say in it.

Colored files and various folders were stacked all over the top. Amongst them were investigator manuals and a car magazine with a beautiful, very busty gal doing a move on the hood of a car that Taylor was sure only a gymnast could pull off.

Go figure.

Inside the pencil drawer, highlighters and pens fought for space with paper clips and loose change. Dry erase markers tangoed with notecards and a travel-size bottle of hand sanitizer.

Underneath a spiral notebook lay a set of handcuffs.

Taylor fingered the cuffs, wondering how many criminals Matt had arrested over the years.

How many women had he used these on?

Jealousy flitted through her stomach and she shoved the drawer closed. The feeling was a new one. She hadn’t felt jealousy over anyone since…

Isabel.

Their parents had never treated Izzy any differently when she’d been around, but after her kidnapping, they’d been all-Isabel, all the time.

She couldn’t blame them, but they’d had another daughter still around who felt just as lost and awful as they did. A little attention would have been like an oasis in the desert of her childhood.