secure. Here at the house or the studio. It’s not like we’ll be traveling all over the city making her a target.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I think she’s lonely.”
He considered that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Mickey, don’t get involved.”
“I’m not. What makes you say that?”
He heard the shrug in her voice. “I know you. I know how you are with women. First Carla. Then Jessica. Rowan Smith doesn’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue her.”
“Don’t practice your amateur psychology on me, Teresa,” he warned. “I know perfectly well how to do my job. I’m not going to let a little physical attraction interfere with protecting her life.” Shit, he hadn’t meant to let on that he found Rowan sexy. Hell, who wouldn’t? He could keep it under control.
She sighed, signaling she wasn’t going to argue with him now, but the conversation wasn’t over in her mind. “I’m going to dig deeper. I put out some calls this afternoon; it might take a day or two to get feedback.”
“Don’t break any laws.”
“Who, me?” Tess laughed and hung up.
As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about Rowan Smith. She was a complex and beautiful woman, and he sensed she had a troubled past. He hoped to earn her trust so she’d share with him. At the minimum, he’d settle for what Tess could dig up.
And contrary to what his sister thought, he knew Rowan wasn’t Jessica. They were nothing alike.
Tess paced half the night, wondering what she should do with the information she’d just uncovered.
Though she respected Michael’s abilities, she remembered too well the times her brother had gotten emotionally involved with troubled women. Rowan’s very real need of protection would attract her brother like nothing else could.
Tess had many questions about Rowan’s sketchy background. Like why she quit the FBI. She wanted to know more about her cases. Rowan would be getting copies of her case files that Tess would like to go through as well. Rowan had been open about her career, but as soon as Michael’s questions turned personal, she gave short, clipped answers. There was something there, but Tess couldn’t figure out what. An ex-husband? She hadn’t found any marriage records, but that meant squat. Ex-boyfriend? A possibility.
She hoped Michael would forgive her for calling their brother John, but she needed an unbiased opinion. Michael was a good cop, good bodyguard, but he sometimes let personal feelings cloud his professional judgment. Rowan intrigued him, Tess could tell.
She called John’s private line. “It’s Tess.”
Pause. “What’s wrong?”
“We have a new assignment, but I think we may be over our head on this one.” She told him about Rowan Smith, the murder, and the funeral wreath. “Michael asked me to do a background check.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“So?”
“Just that-nothing. It’s as if she was born eighteen years old and just started college.”
“Maybe you’re not as good as you think,” he teased lightly.
“John, I’m worried. That funeral wreath really freaked me out. I read about the murder of Doreen Rodriguez in the papers, then I read the chapter in her book. It’s identical.”
“What did you find on her?”
“She graduated from Georgetown twelve years ago and went directly into the FBI Academy. Graduated top of her class. She has several marksmanship awards, and I found a couple of newspaper articles where she had a hand in apprehending a criminal, but she’s never quoted. She resigned four years ago, about the same time her first book was published.”
“Sounds like typical burnout. It happens.”
“I’m getting to that. There’s a court document from more than twenty years ago. Name change.”
“Oh?”
“She was a minor. And it’s sealed.”
“Okay, you’ve piqued my interest.”
“I’m not done. She listed her address in Washington, D.C., so I did a search on property ownership. The house is in the name of Roger and Grace Collins.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“Roger Collins is assistant director of the FBI. There’s something strange in that, don’t you think? That she had a name change as a minor and was living at the home of one of the FBI directors?” She paused. “What if she knows more about this killer than she’s letting on? Why would a kid need a name change? Witness protection?”
“I can think of a lot of reasons, not all of them nefarious.”
Tess ignored him. “And I can already tell Michael’s getting emotionally involved. I’m worried, John.” She felt bad about giving this information to John before she told Michael, but she knew John’s instincts were better. She’d tell Michael tomorrow.
“I’m ready to wrap up down here. Give me two days.”
Tess hung up, feeling better. While she trusted Michael, John had more experience dealing with federal law enforcement agencies. Michael tended to be too trusting, while John was the exact opposite-so distrustful that it sometimes bothered Tess. She’d never met anyone so driven, so focused on his job-whatever it happened to be- than her oldest brother.
If anyone could get to the heart of the Rowan Smith case, it was John.
John snapped closed his cell phone and pushed aside Tess’s worries. He had work to finish quickly if he was to get back up to California to help his brother. Though more confident in Michael’s ability than Tess was, he wondered about Smith and her background. He knew how deceptive the FBI could be, especially when they protected one of their own.
He couldn’t give this operation any more time. He called his DEA contact with the longitude and latitude of the warehouse where over ten thousand kilos of pure heroin was stored. He’d hoped to track down the elusive Reginald Pomera, but not this time.
He looked down and saw his clenched fists. He’d thought for sure this was the time he’d confront Pomera. He was so close. So close he could almost smell the bastard.
He forced himself to relax, taking slow, drawn-out breaths. Reminded himself that his consulting assignments for the DEA were sporadic work, at best. His new career was the security business with Michael and Tess. He was no longer an agent, no longer in the employ of the government.
Unless, of course, they needed his specialized skills in tracking down and hunting big-time drug lords like Pomera, he thought bitterly. Then he reminded himself that it had been his choice to walk away from that career.
Not as though he’d had much of a decision. Sell your soul to the devil to catch a devil. It wasn’t a choice he could have made.
He paced, checking the status of the warehouse through the electronic sensors he’d planted earlier. Four guards around the perimeter, two inside. No one was on alert. Business as usual.
Even if Tess hadn’t called him about returning to L.A., he would have needed to call in the raid soon, anyway. The drugs were scheduled for transport tomorrow night-and his gut told him Pomera was not going to make an appearance.
There was no way he could allow those drugs to end up on the streets of America. It was a small blow to the huge drug cartel, but a blow nonetheless. And if one kid didn’t die-it’d be worth it.
If all went well, he’d be in Los Angeles in thirty-six hours.
A quiet knock awakened Michael. Early-morning light streamed through the curtains. He jumped from bed, alert, not mindful that he wore only briefs. Rowan stood in the doorway.
She averted her eyes. “I’m going for a run.”
