Page 12 of The Agent

M ARLEY HAD TROUBLE CONTAINING her distaste as she watched Hernandez read the email.

He’d slipped on a pair of latex gloves before handling the laptop, as if he expected Patrick’s fingerprints to be on it or something.

Right, because she’d secretly met up with Patrick, let him use her computer so he could send her an email and then come home and called the police.

Why did this man distrust her so much? She’d never been in trouble with the law, didn’t even have any outstanding parking tickets and yet here he was, treating her like a common criminal.

“Has anyone had access to this laptop other than the two of you?” Hernandez asked.

“No,” Marley replied. “I’m the only one who uses it.”

He stared at the screen again. “Do you recognize the email address the message came from?”

“No. Patrick’s address was the one on his domain name, for his web design company.”

“He most likely used one of those free email accounts,” Caleb spoke up, leaning against the counter. “He probably went to an internet café to do it.”

“Maybe,” the detective said, “but that’s for us to figure out. Why don’t you focus on—what is it you do, Mr. Ford? Writer?”

She noticed a muscle twitch in Caleb’s jaw. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Then focus on writing and let us do our job.”

The detective’s voice was so cold most people probably would’ve cowered and shut up, but not Caleb.

To Marley’s amazement, he crossed his arms over his spectacular chest and said, “I’m sure you have a bunch of tech guys at the station who can locate the IP address of the computer the message was sent on.

But what about Marley? I assume you’ll assign some officers to protect her. ”

The detective spared a pithy look in Marley’s direction. “I’m afraid we don’t have the budget for that.”

Barely contained anger seethed in Caleb’s blue eyes. “Come on, Detective, you read the note. He’s obviously planning to make a move soon. I was under the impression you’ve been searching for this guy for some time.”

“We have been.” Hernandez let out a resigned breath. To Marley’s surprise, he caved in to Caleb’s request. “I’ll arrange some patrols around the neighborhood and talk to the captain about posting an officer outside the house.”

Marley glanced from Caleb to Hernandez. There was a strange ripple of tension between them, and neither man seemed to like the other very much.

She understood, at least from Caleb’s perspective.

She hadn’t liked Hernandez from the moment they’d met.

What she did like, however, was how Caleb didn’t even flinch as he met the other man’s gaze head-on.

A tiny thrill shot through her. She needed to stop being so closed off and suspicious. It actually felt nice, having someone in her corner.

“I’m going to have to confiscate the computer,” Hernandez said, his words sounding stilted. He picked up the laptop and tucked it under his arm. “The boys at the station will try to figure out where the email came from.”

“Thank you,” Marley said.

Hernandez slowly studied her face. “Is this the first contact Grier has made?”

She nodded.

“Are you sure about that?”

Marley’s spine stiffened. She opened her mouth to reply, but Caleb spoke before she could. “Why do you insist on treating her like a suspect?” he asked in an even voice.

“I’m doing my job, Mr. Ford. I’m expected to examine every angle.”

“Well, you’re wasting your time on this one. Marley didn’t do anything wrong. She was used and lied to, and you might actually get a break in the case if you focused your attention on more important angles .”

Hernandez looked absolutely livid. The tension in the kitchen skyrocketed, mingling with the rage radiating from both men. Marley sighed and quickly attempted to diffuse their volatile emotions.

“This is the first time Patrick has contacted me,” she said loudly.

“And yes, I’m sure. As I told you three months ago, Patrick went to a design convention and never came back.

Two days later, you showed up at my door and told me who he really is.

And a half hour ago, he emailed me. That’s all I can tell you, Detective. ”

“Okay, then. We’ll get on this email development right away.” Scowling at Caleb, Hernandez took a step toward the doorway. “And if he tries to make contact again, call us immediately.”

Nodding, Marley led the detective out of her kitchen and walked him to the front door. Caleb trailed behind them, his shoulders stiff. She offered Hernandez a polite thank-you for his help, then leaned against the door frame and watched as he strode to his car with her laptop under his arm.

The engine of the black sedan roared to life, and then Hernandez drove off. Marley turned to face Caleb. “I appreciate your sticking up for me like that, but I don’t know if it was a good idea for you to interfere with Hernandez.”

She still couldn’t believe he’d done it. He didn’t even know her, yet he’d reprimanded the detective, the conviction in his voice so strong when he’d insisted she couldn’t be helping Patrick.

“He’ll get over it,” Caleb said, shrugging.

“You’re a good man, Caleb. Not many people would defend someone they’ve only known a few days. For all you know, I really could be helping Patrick.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he said, sounding gruff.

Despite her reservations emotion filled her chest, making Marley’s throat tighten.

His faith in her came as an odd relief. She normally didn’t care what people thought.

As long as her family and close friends knew what kind of person she was, it didn’t matter what jerks like Hernandez believed.

But knowing that Caleb trusted her brought an unexpected rush of pleasure.

She realized she was starting to like him a lot.

Not just because he’d caught her when she’d fallen off the roof or because he’d offered to help her renovate.

There was something about his quiet strength and rare laughter that made her heart jump.

She was shocked at how quickly her feelings were growing.

“I have to go,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I’m next door if you need me. If anything happens, if your ex causes any trouble, don’t hesitate to come and get me, okay? Day or night, Marley.”

All she could do was nod, amazed by the sincerity in his deep voice. He really meant it. He would actually be willing to protect her, a woman he’d just met. Maybe there were some good and decent men left in this world.

As his hand reached for the doorknob, she burst out, “Wait.”

Caleb turned. “Yeah?”

Without another word, she eliminated the distance between them, cupped his strong jaw with both hands, and kissed him.

Like placing a hand on a hot stove, her body got an immediate reaction from the feel of his firm lips against hers. Heat torpedoed into her, and she deepened the kiss, needing to taste him. He hesitated when she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, seeking entry, but then he let her in.

She flicked her tongue over his, eliciting a ragged groan from deep in his throat.

He was restraining himself, and she didn’t like it.

So she pressed her body closer to his and wrapped her arms around him.

Feeling bold, she let her hands skim down his body to touch his taut ass. Gave it a little squeeze, too.

Caleb chuckled against her mouth. “Did you just squeeze my butt?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She brushed her lips over his. “Are you complaining?” Without letting him reply, she kissed him again. Caleb was so darn reserved all the time. She wanted to see some of his control crumble, wanted to feel him let go.

She got her wish seconds later, when he suddenly released a husky growl and returned the kiss with fervor.

And then he was touching her, his warm hands stroking her hips, caressing her belly, reaching around to cup her bottom.

He squeezed her the way she’d just done to him, then moved his hands back to her waist and began to drag his palms over her stomach, slowly traveling up to her breasts.

Her nipples pebbled, her core burning with passion. Marley shivered, whimpered, then gasped when he grazed the underside of each breast. God, she wanted him to touch her. To fondle her and kiss her and slide into her—

He abruptly broke off the kiss, his hands dropping from her chest. “I should go.” Each word was a hoarse gasp.

Marley was still a little stunned, amazed by her own boldness, but even more surprised by the sparks crackling between them like fireworks. She wanted him so badly every inch of her body ached and tingled. What was happening to her?

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” she asked impulsively. “My treat.”

He ran one hand through his scruffy hair, drawing her attention to the fleck of yellow paint caught in his dark tresses. “No painting involved,” she added, grinning.

Hesitation flickered across his face. “I don’t know, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Please?” She swallowed. “I could use the company.”

She knew he was thinking about the email her psychotic ex-fiancé had just sent her—she was thinking about it, too. When he finally nodded, pleasure bloomed inside her.

“Okay,” he agreed. “What time?”

“I’ll be home from the hospital around five, so how’s seven?”

“Seven,” he confirmed.

She opened the door for him, smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Caleb gave a slight nod, bade her goodbye and stepped onto the porch. She watched him walk off, then closed her front door and went back inside.

Her heart did a little jumping jack, and not even the memory of Patrick’s disgustingly loving email could bring down her mood.

The police would find Patrick. She had to believe in that, otherwise she’d be cowering in fear, hiding in her bedroom closet or something.

No matter how apprehensive the thought of Patrick coming back here made her, she wasn’t going to cower. She was stronger than that.

And right now, all she wanted to do was bask in the surprising and delicious feelings Caleb inspired in her and look forward to sharing dinner with a man who wasn’t a psychotic criminal.

* * *

“S ON OF A BITCH ,” P ATRICK muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to the dark-haired man who’d just walked out of Marley’s house.

Anger bubbled in Patrick’s gut as he noticed the other man’s cocky stride. The guy walked like a cop.

Probably because he was one.

Patrick’s entire body had turned into a block of ice when he’d seen that unmarked cruiser slide into Marley’s driveway, but the shock hadn’t been as great as the one he’d experienced when a very familiar DEA agent strolled outside to exchange a few words with the detective.

He clenched his fists. He’d known the cops were watching Marley, but the DEA had someone right next door? Shit. That would make getting to her a hell of a lot more difficult.

Did she know her neighbor was a cop? Patrick froze as he pondered that question. No, the agent must be pulling the wool over her eyes. Marley would never work with the cops. She was on his side.

Then why did she give the fat detective her laptop?

“They were tracking her email,” he mumbled after a moment.

He’d thought about that when he was at the internet café sending her the message, but he’d figured it was a risk he could afford to take.

The cops would trace the email to the computer at the café, but it wasn’t like Patrick would be hanging around there, sipping lattes.

Marley had no choice. She’d had to give them her computer.

What worried him more was the disconcerting presence of the agent next door.

Patrick remembered him from the raid. The bastard had pointed a gun at him, ordered him to surrender.

And now here he was, waiting for another chance to make his arrest.

“They won’t catch me,” Patrick said smugly, turning his attention to the woman on the bed.

He’d moved Lydia out of the closet to give her a little bit of air—he wasn’t a monster, after all—but she was still bound and gagged. Still looking at him with those terrified eyes.

“Relax,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you. I already told you that.”

She whimpered, bringing a wave of irritation to his gut. Striding over to the bed, he sat down on the edge and stared directly at her. “I’m not a bad guy, all right? So quit looking at me like that. What’s so wrong with wanting to make a little money?”

The old lady couldn’t answer because of the gag stretched across her mouth, but the look in her eyes was annoyingly familiar.

His parents used to sport that same expression, when he told them about all the big plans he had for himself.

They didn’t understand, though. His parents were too bland, too ordinary.

They were perfectly happy living in their crappy little Iowa town, teaching math to snot-faced schoolchildren, and letting their lives pass them by.

Well, Patrick wasn’t like them. All he’d ever wished for as a child was to get out of Nowhereville, Iowa, and be somebody. He wanted to live life. He wanted millions of dollars in the bank and yachts and trips around the world.

But above all that, he wanted Marley.

She was beautiful and kind and good. And a bad boy like him needed a good girl like her for balance.

Except now he had that asshole cop to contend with. It would be no easy feat, getting the money he’d stashed under the tile in Marley’s bathroom, but he knew he’d find a way.

He always did, after all.