Page 11 of The Agent

“M ARLEY , YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN and tell me what’s going on,” Caleb said in a firm tone.

But she was already marching over to the phone, mumbling unintelligible things. As she dialed, Caleb leaned forward to examine the page on the laptop, the message that had just shaken Marley’s entire world. He hissed in a breath as he read the words on the screen.

I miss you, sweet pea. Stay strong. I’ll see you soon.

Caleb’s body hardened with icy fury. Grier. That son of a bitch had contacted Marley, just as Caleb had known he would.

“Detective Hernandez,” he heard Marley stammer from behind him. “Yes…please…tell him it’s urgent.”

Caleb read Grier’s message again. Short, but sweet.

Each word was branded into his brain, the last four bringing a wave of satisfaction and a jolt of adrenaline.

Grier was coming for her. Caleb had known Grier wouldn’t be able to stay away.

Yet along with the gratification of knowing that his hunch had been right, a knot of fear twined around his insides as he realized precisely how much danger Marley was in.

Grier’s saccharine words rang of love, not hate, but when you were dealing with sociopaths there wasn’t always a clear line between the two.

Grier could turn on Marley any second. Hell, he could decide to strangle her to death if he didn’t like the way she prepared his coffee.

The knowledge of what had happened to the last woman Grier was involved with wasn’t lost on Caleb.

They’d never been able to conclusively tie him to her murder, but the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming.

With nothing concrete to charge him with, the case had gone cold.

Still, everyone involved felt Grier was their man.

Shit. He needed to call his supervisor and arrange for more agents to watch Marley, maybe get the local cops to patrol the neighborhood. Even Hernandez would have to agree this email spelled danger.

Hernandez. Damn. Marley was speaking to him at this very moment, her voice shaky as she told him about the message.

He had to get out of here. And fast. The local police detective knew about the stakeout, but not that Caleb had made contact. Which meant that his cover could be blown the moment the detective walked into the house and saw Caleb there.

“The detective in charge of the case is on his way over.”

Marley’s voice pulled him from his panicked thoughts. He turned to face her, glad to see some color returning to her face.

She gave him a rueful look. “I guess I have some explaining to do, huh?”

Caleb faltered. Explaining? Why would she need to—because he wasn’t supposed to know about any of this… She wasn’t aware that he knew about Grier, that he’d been hunting the guy for three months. That his best friend and partner had been killed because of her ex.

“Yeah,” he said, finding his voice. “That might be helpful.” He gestured to the laptop. “I’m sorry, I read the email. You were so upset, and I wanted to see—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “Come on, let’s sit.”

He followed her back to the table, but even after they were seated, Marley didn’t continue. She suddenly seemed lost, turmoil and anger roiling in her brown eyes.

“Who was the message from?” he asked.

“My ex,” she said flatly. “Who made it pretty clear he’s coming after me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

She inhaled slowly. “Remember I told you he wasn’t who he said he was? Well, what I found out that he was a drug dealer.”

Without preamble, she told him everything. She skimmed over the romance, but spoke in detail about the day she’d found out from the police who Patrick was, the investigation that followed, the shame and horror she’d felt when she learned the truth.

Each word made his temples throb. The disbelief dripping from her voice was unmistakable.

So was the disgust in her eyes. AJ was wrong.

There was now no doubt in Caleb’s mind that Marley had been completely ignorant of her fiancé’s criminal dealings.

Nobody could act that well. Nobody could fake the horror conveyed in each word she spoke.

“And now he emails me?” she finished, looking at him with wide eyes. “God, Caleb, what if he shows up here?”

Then I’ll catch him.

He bit back the words, instead leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on the table. “I’m sure the police will do everything they can to protect you, Marley. They won’t just let a murderer waltz into your home.”

“Hernandez might,” she said bitterly. “That man hates me. He thinks I knew about Patrick all along and that I’m somehow helping him now.”

“Why the heck would he think that?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head in anger. “He has it in for me, and I’ve never done a single thing to the man. And now he’s coming over, and he’ll probably grill me again and accuse me of sending the email myself.”

Caleb stifled a sigh. Yeah, with Hernandez, some grilling would definitely be involved. He didn’t understand what Hernandez had against Marley, but he made a mental note to ask AJ to get his hands on the detective’s file. Caleb couldn’t afford to lose Grier because of some stupid vendetta.

“Maybe he’ll be more receptive this time,” Caleb said, trying to sound positive. “He must be getting anxious, trying to find your ex, and this could be a big break in the case.”

Marley didn’t look convinced. “Will you stay while he questions me? I know this doesn’t really involve you, but…” She exhaled. “I’d feel better if I had someone on my side for this.”

How on earth was he supposed to say no to that?

Reluctance welled up in his chest. He couldn’t stick around.

Hernandez might slip up when he saw him, do something dim-witted like call Caleb “Agent Ford.” If Marley found out who he really was, she would be furious.

Most likely she’d throw him out and refuse to have any further contact with him.

Then again, she was an intelligent woman; she might see the benefit of having a cop close by.

But he couldn’t take the chance that fury might cloud her judgment.

AJ had persuaded him to befriend Marley so he could gain information, but now that Grier had contacted her, Caleb had an even more important reason to stay by her side.

He’d never be able to forgive himself if Grier hurt Marley—if he killed her, the way he’d killed Russ.

Caleb’s blood pressure spiked. Marley was still waiting for his answer, and for the life of him, he couldn’t leave her right now. “Let’s sit in the living room,” he said with a small sigh.

They walked into the spacious room, which contained a comfortable brown couch, a huge bookshelf crammed with novels, and a large window overlooking the front yard. As Marley sank down onto the couch, Caleb went to the window, fixing his gaze on the driveway.

How was he going to get out of this? Detective Hernandez would arrive any freaking second. Caleb needed to intercept the man before he entered the house.

Behind him, Marley sat with her back ramrod straight. Caleb wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and offer words of comfort, but he couldn’t. Not until he figured out how to get Hernandez alone before the man questioned Marley.

Tension coiled into a tight knot in his gut as he spotted an unmarked black sedan pulling into the driveway. He started for the front door. Marley followed him, but he placed a hand on her arm before she could reach for the doorknob.

“I want to go out there and talk to him first,” he said.

She blinked. “Why?”

“To make a few things clear to him before he comes in here and starts treating you like a suspect,” he improvised.

“Caleb, don’t—”

Before she could object further, he darted out the door and descended the porch just as Hernandez stepped onto Marley’s driveway. The detective was short and stocky, with a head of black hair streaked with gray, and dark eyes that widened at the sight of Caleb. “Agent Ford?” Hernandez said.

Caleb closed the distance between them, glad the detective hadn’t spoken any louder. “Hey, Miguel.”

Hernandez’s thick black mustache curled as he drew his lips together in a frown. “What the hell are you doing in there with her? I thought Stevens had you next door.”

“He does, but I had to make contact.”

Hernandez looked suspicious. “Why?”

“It was necessary. Look, I’m undercover, Miguel. Kincaid thinks I’m her writer neighbor, and I need her to keep thinking that.”

The detective’s frown deepened. “The department still views her as a suspect, Ford.”

“The department might need to change that opinion then,” he retorted. “I don’t believe Kincaid had any knowledge of her fiancé’s previous or current crimes. But I do believe Grier will contact her again, especially after the message he sent twenty minutes ago.”

“The email she claims he sent,” Hernandez said.

“It’s real, Miguel. And before we go in there, I need your word that you’ll maintain my cover. We don’t know each other.”

Hernandez paused for a moment, looking both intrigued and wary. “We don’t know each other,” he finally agreed.

The two men crossed Marley’s lawn and climbed the porch. Marley was waiting at the door. The moment she saw Hernandez, her delicate mouth tightened in a thin line. “Detective Hernandez,” she said coolly, casting Caleb a suspicious look.

“Ms. Kincaid.” Hernandez’s nod of greeting was polite, but it was still obvious how he felt about Marley. He didn’t trust her.

“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Caleb suggested.

Unable to stop himself, he placed a possessive hand on the small of Marley’s back, ignored the slight raise of Hernandez’s fuzzy black eyebrows and headed for the kitchen.

* * *