Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(72)

But now that she’d brought it up, and I was thinking about Allison again—though admittedly I’d never really stopped—I reached for my personal phone to see whether she’d contacted me. I really hated the dive my spirits took when I confirmed she hadn’t, and I hated myself more for even caring. Of course she hadn’t reached out to me. She probably—Shit! Lucia still had my personal phone. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t heard from Allison today. A glimmer of hope blossomed.

I glanced at the clock again before mentally reviewing Allison’s schedule. She should be almost to the airport by now. Surely she’d at least text me to let me know she’d made it there safely and on time. Hmm. Should I email her on her work phone to let her know I didn’t have my personal cell? Or would that seem needy and desperate?

“You ready to go?” Meaghan’s inquiry startled me out of my reverie.

I yawned and started shutting down my computer. “Yeah. All set. Thanks for waiting.”

She was giving me the strangest look. Maybe she didn’t even know about Lucia. Had I told her about the breakup? I couldn’t remember. When was the last time I’d seen her anyway? Was it before Lucia had broken up with me or after?

“No problem,” Meaghan said, her thoughts obviously in a completely different place than mine. “I had some paperwork I needed to finish anyway. Do you have a list of all the addresses we need to hit?”

“Yup. There are four I’d like to get to today. I have two on tap for tomorrow. And I thought we’d squeeze another visit to Akbari in somewhere, if we have the time.”

Meaghan’s gawk suggested disbelief and exasperation. “That’s a lot of interviews, Ryan. And then you still have to actually type the report.”

“I know. I’m really sorry to drag you out on all this. I can ask someone else if it’s too much or if you have something else to do.”

She waved a hand in my direction. “It isn’t me I’m worried about. When does Iran come in?”

“Thursday.”

“What time?”

“Wheels down is currently scheduled for eleven-hundred.”

“How’s the advance going?”

“As well as can be expected.” I shrugged. No intel was good intel as far as I was concerned, and that’s what all my sources on the subject had indicated thus far. I’d keep checking periodically up to and all through the visit to confirm that didn’t change.

Meaghan shook her head, looking disgusted. “Ryan, let me write the closing report for the Dougherty case for you.”

I scoffed. “No way! I’m not letting you steal cases from me. You get your own.”

Meaghan fixed me with a murderous glare. “Stop being a smart-ass. You’re going to kill yourself trying to finish all this work before the visit. You’re still exhausted from last week. Let me help.”

I was touched and prayed she’d understand. “I appreciate that, Meg. I really do. But I need to do this on my own.”

“You feel like you have something to prove to him, don’t you?”

“If I don’t do this, Mark’ll think he’s been right about me, that I can’t handle it.”

“And if you do somehow manage to pull it off, he’ll keep burying you in work just because he wants to see where your breaking point is.”

“Ah. So that’s what they mean when they say caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Meaghan shook her head but had only sympathy in her eyes. “Please, just promise me you’ll let me know if you change your mind.”

“I promise. And thanks for the offer.”

“What are friends for?”

“Ryan?” a new voice interjected itself into our conversation.

I glanced away from Meaghan’s smiling face to see Mark hovering in our doorway. His expression was odd, and I couldn’t help wondering how much he’d overheard. While I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was different about him, something was. It wasn’t just the manner and tone he used to address me, though that was strange enough. He normally strutted around like he was big man on campus, but now he appeared tense, almost tentative and jumpy. This change made me distinctly uneasy.

“Yes, Mark?”

“I need to talk to you.” He hesitated and cut his eyes toward Meaghan. “Do you have a minute?”

“I’ll go get the car,” Meaghan told me, either unwilling or unable to disguise her worry that’d blossomed when Mark appeared. “I’ll meet you out front in five.”

I nodded to her but refocused my attention on Mark and waved to the seat in front of my desk. He glanced at it and looked almost lost for a second, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with the chair, before settling stiffly in it. He rested his right ankle atop his left knee, and his fingers drummed restless patterns on the tops of his thighs. Wait, was he wearing a skull-and-crossbones tie tack? Was his pirate obsession that out of control? I tried to get a closer look without being obvious about it.

“I know you’re busy, so I’ll get right to the point,” he said, dragging me away from thoughts on his choice of accessories. “We need to discuss that counterfeit call you went out on the other night.”

Why was he still dwelling on that? “What about it?”