After deleting the draft text she’d prepared for Dak, she poured a glass of wine and turned out the lights.
She needed a nice long soak in her jetted tub to unwind.
Somehow, she doubted the jets could relax away the knife in her back.
₪ ₪ ₪
Something was up with Kevyn.
Dak shifted his eyes to surreptitiously study her.
Yep. Definitely not herself. It didn’t take her psychology degree to see that.
She’d arrived late today. No biggie. Happened to all of them from time to time.
But she’d already downed three cups of coffee and was jittery. Maybe from all the caffeine or maybe from whatever was driving her need for caffeine.
To top it off, she was quiet. Monosyllabic answer quiet.
He rolled back his chair. “You sure there isn’t something you want to tell me?”
She jumped, knocking over her coffee and sending the brown liquid streaming across the desk.
He grabbed a stack of tissues and crossed to help her mop up the mess.
“Sorry.” Pink circled her cheeks. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”
“How come?”
Not that it was really any of his business, but as her friend, he was concerned. As her supervisor, he needed her at full capacity.
Which she clearly was not.
“OPR is investigating me and my… Mitch… is… I don’t know.” She scooped up the sopping tissues and threw them into the trashcan with unusual force. “Mitch found me yesterday.”
What?
One look at her face told him he’d heard her correctly. “And you’re just now telling me?”
How could she keep this from him? After all their discussions about honesty, all her promises to be forthcoming, she kept something like this secret? Did she really think he’d never learn about it?
“I know.” She squirted some hand sanitizer on her hands, probably to try to get rid of the stickiness from the coffee. “It was at the coffee shop and he was long gone, so there wasn’t anything you could have done. I needed time to process it.”
Processing or not, she should have told him. Immediately. Didn’t she realize the impact something like this could have on her career?
Not to mention their friendship?
Leave it. What was done was done. She’d made her choice – right or wrong, it no longer mattered.
“What did he say?” In spite of his even tone, she looked at him. Seeing straight through him, no doubt. It was a little unnerving how she did that.
“I’m sorry, Dak. I know I should have told you, but… you don’t know how it feels.”
No, he didn’t. And he thanked God for that.
“He said he wanted to explain and that he was being watched. He seemed scared.” She pursed her lips briefly. “He said he knew who took Jason Boggess, but didn’t know why. He didn’t get to say anything more because he saw someone and took off.”
Could he believe her? He desperately wanted to, but so many questions remained. “How did he find you there?”
“He’d hired a PI to watch me.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure what to make of that. I would have noticed a tail.”
“Maybe the PI dug into your financials and found the coffee shop that way.”
“Maybe.” She hesitated before lifting her eyes to meet his. “Mitch said he would stop by my house last night to talk.”
His breath froze in his lungs.
She’d done it this time. He’d have to report her to OPR. OPR had been crystal clear. Report all contact. Not only had she failed to report the initial contact, she’d failed to report one she’d known about in advance!
She’d probably be put on administrative leave pending the investigation.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice, higher pitched than usual, pleaded with him to understand. “He said he wouldn’t show if anyone else was there. I was going to text you the second he arrived. You have to believe me.”
“Why should I?” He dropped his voice so that the conversation wouldn’t carry beyond the walls around them. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Well, he didn’t show anyway. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because on some level, I think I knew he’d flake out. Just like he always does.”
“That’s no excuse. Full disclosure. That’s how this team works.” And she knew it. She’d known it from day one, when she’d waltzed into that hostage negotiation and broken every rule in the book.
She stood abruptly, efficiently dodged him as she rounded the desk, and closed the office door. As she turned back to him, fire flashed from her eyes. “You want full disclosure? I wanted five minutes alone with him. Wanted him to explain the last thirty-five years and why he never came back.”
The irritation leaked from him like air from a punctured tire.
She flung her arm wildly. “He’s probably going to jail when we catch him. He’s an accomplice to kidnapping at the very least. I wanted him to tell me why he left. Without a bunch of other people hearing it, too.”
It made sense. While he didn’t agree with her decision, he could understand why she’d made it.
She pulled in a long breath and seemed to calm down. “I knew if I told you, you’d have to report it. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to put you in that position.”
The end justified the means, as it always did in her mind.
“And if you had to do it over again?” Why he asked, he wasn’t sure. He already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
She hesitated. “I stand by my decision.”
It wasn’t personal. He tried to remind himself of that, even as the words sliced through him.
After eight months with no issues, he’d really thought she respected the team rules.
