Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(73)

“I know you used to be some sort of counterfeit superagent back in the day, but you’re in PI now. You can’t just go out on any kind of cases you want. Regardless of who’s asking. You need to drop it.”

His tone was almost gentle, which made me wary. Usually he preferred the strong-arm technique, at least when it came to dealing with me. Why the sudden switch in tactics? But I didn’t reply.

“You have dropped it, haven’t you?” Mark asked, and I thought I detected a faint tremor in his voice. That ratcheted my confusion up another notch.

How should I respond? Now that I had what appeared to be a possible nexus to terrorism in the Akbari case, I was within my rights to investigate it as I saw fit. Mark had absolutely no control over what work I did for the Task Force. And it’d feel rather nice to point that out to him. But why was he even presenting me with that opportunity? It had to be some sort of trap.

Perhaps it was time to try a different approach. For once, he appeared to be attempting to engage me in an adult conversation, sans insults, blustering, and bravado. I didn’t understand his sudden change of heart, but maybe I should take full advantage of it. Who knew? Perhaps this would be a turning point for us.

I needed to word my answer just right, give him enough detail to satisfy his curiosity, so he’d feel like he was in the loop, but not divulge too much. Mark may’ve been my boss, but he was a Secret Service boss, which meant he didn’t need to be and shouldn’t be privy to the specifics of my terrorism-related cases.

“I’m still looking into it,” I told him honestly. “Some new information has come to my attention that, if verified, places the investigation directly in my purview.”

“What information?”

“The subject may have ties to known terrorism targets. Like I said, I’m still looking into it.”

“And if you confirm he does, he becomes the subject of a JTTF investigation.” Mark’s eyes held a far-away cast, and he appeared to be thinking rather than having a discussion with me.

I answered him anyway. “That’s generally the way it works.”

Mark’s focus snapped back to me at my admittedly unnecessary quip, and he stared at me for a very long time, saying nothing and moving even less. Only his eyes indicated he’d even heard me, and the emotions swirling around there moved too quickly for me to grasp. But he wasn’t exactly happy with what I’d just said.

I held my breath as I waited for the explosion headed my way. The tension in the room was palpable, and if this were a television show, I was certain some Old-West-type music would have underscored the standoff. I was tempted to whistle along with the soundtrack playing in my head, but that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I doubted Mark would see the humor. He never did.

After a while, Mark exhaled noisily. The muscles in his jaw and cheeks tensed as though he were pursing his lips in thought. He slowly pushed himself to a standing position, his dark eyes never once leaving mine. “I see,” he finally said, after simply staring down at me.

He turned to go—had actually made it most of the way out of my office—but he stopped abruptly in my doorway as though something had occurred to him. He slowly pivoted back around to face me, his facial expression odd and unreadable. A sort of cold dread seeped over me, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Have you told anyone about this?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your superiors over at the JTTF. Have you told them anything about this case?”

“No. Not yet. Why?”

A pause. “I think it would be a good idea for you to brief me, the SAIC, and the AT of the Counterfeit Squad about as much of this as you can before you start talking to the FBI bosses about it. That’s all.”

Hmm. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. The bosses hated it when someone blindsided them with stuff they felt they should’ve known. It probably wouldn’t hurt to fill in all the pertinent parties—as much as I was able, considering the nature of the investigation—before I opened an active case.

“Of course. You’re right. And I definitely will. As soon as I get some more concrete info, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, he exited the doorway, leaving me to gawk after him.





Chapter Twenty-four


The next few days passed in a hectic blur of driving, talking, and typing, and by the time Thursday rolled around, I was teetering on the edge of exhaustion and ready to drop.

Of course, it didn’t help that I still hadn’t heard from Allison, and I was cursing that it distracted me so much. Thoughts of her had trickled into the cracks in my day and took up far more time than I’d wanted them to. Sleeping with her had been a terrible idea. I tried to tell myself that her silence was a good thing, that it sent a message on par with the lights on the Las Vegas strip that we wanted different things and would save me a lot of grief and heartache in the end, but the mental pep talk didn’t help.

I was also cursing my own stubbornness and wondering what’d possessed me to turn down Meaghan’s offer of assistance. If I’d taken her up on it, I might’ve gotten more than seven hours of sleep in the past two days. Oh, well. At least I didn’t have to drive. That would’ve been disastrous for everyone. No one likes it when you’re asleep behind the wheel in a motorcade.