What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(65)

“Well?” Carmen demanded as he ensured they were still in four-wheel drive.

“I’m glad I got the insurance, but it’s okay to drive,” he assured her, pressing his foot on the gas pedal.

The wheels began to spin, spraying mud and chunks of cornhusks behind them. Seconds later, they caught traction and lurched forward. Griff wrapped his fingers tightly around the steering wheel, turning them in a wide arc that took them back to the road.

Then he veered to the left. He still wasn’t going to cross the icy bridge. They would have to find another way to Chicago.

*

Carmen remained locked in her dark thoughts as they reached the interstate and headed north. How had her life descended into chaos? Each day seemed to bring a new attempt to terrorize her. If not outright kill her.

On top of that, she was still reeling from her less than spectacular homecoming. It was hard to be all warm and fuzzy when you suspected your remaining family had stolen three million dollars from your inheritance and were now conspiring to keep you from discovering their treachery. By any means necessary.

It wasn’t until Griff pulled the truck to a halt in a half-empty lot that she realized they’d already driven into Chicago, and were parked in front of the FBI headquarters. She narrowed her eyes as the early afternoon sunlight reflected off the large glass building.

Although it was a weekday, the manicured grounds that surrounded the area appeared empty. She guessed the agency was running with a skeleton staff during the holiday season.

Not waiting for Griff, Carmen unhooked her seat belt and slid out of the truck. She’d been too distracted to consider why they’d been driving to Chicago. Now she pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to ease her sudden tension.

She’d taken fewer than a half dozen steps when Griff was at her side, his arm wrapping around her waist. She leaned closer to his solid form. She told herself that she wanted the heat from his body. The wind was frigid as it howled around the street. But if she was being completely honest, she’d admit that the feel of him pressed against her side offered a welcome sense of security.

She wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t try to pull away from his tight grip.

Even Lois Lane depended on Superman every once in a while, right?

In silence they walked up the pathway and stepped through the front entrance. Carmen glanced around the long, narrow lobby. Like the exterior, glass seemed to be the major focal point. Glass wall, a glass crescent-shaped front desk, and polished marble floors.

It was all very shiny. And cold.

They moved to the front desk, where a man demanded their IDs. Then, before he could question them further, the sound of heels clicking against the marble echoed through the lobby.

“I expected you a half hour ago,” a crisp female voice said.

They both turned to watch the agent who walked toward them with the brisk steps of a woman in complete charge of herself and her surroundings. She was dressed in dark slacks and a snowy white shirt that should have looked severe. Instead, it gave her a sleek, elegant appearance. Her hair was a light shade of red, shimmering like copper in the sunlight, and smoothed into a knot at the base of her neck. The style emphasized the perfect oval of her pale face and the bright green eyes that were surrounded by thick black lashes.

Carmen felt an instant stab of envy. This agent was the tall, sophisticated sort of female she’d always wanted to be. Not to mention she had the expression of a true ball-buster.

“We had some troubles,” Griff said, moving toward the woman.

Carmen watched as they shook hands. Friendly, she decided, with none of the awkwardness that came from previous lovers.

“What kind of trouble?” the woman demanded, her gaze moving toward Carmen.

“First, let me introduce you to Carmen Jacobs,” Griff said in firm tones. “Carmen, this is Special Agent Nikki Voros.”

Carmen moved to stand at Griff ’s side. “Special Agent,” she murmured.

Nikki offered a brief smile. “Please call me Nikki.” The green gaze snapped back to Griff. “What trouble?”

Griff sent Carmen a rueful glance. He was clearly used to the agent’s one-track mind.

“Someone tried to ram us off a bridge.”

“You’re sure it was deliberate?” the agent pressed. “The roads are slick.”

“It was deliberate.”

She gave a small nod, pivoting on her heel. “Come with me.”

Griff reached to grasp Carmen’s hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze as they followed Nikki out of the lobby and down a hallway.

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” he assured Carmen.

“No, it’s not,” Nikki denied, pushing open a door to lead them into a small conference room. “Although I’m not a complete bitch.” She moved across the silver carpet toward a cabinet set against the glass wall. On the top was a tray with a stainless steel coffeepot and cups along with several bottles of water. “Would you like something to drink?”

Carmen shook her head, slipping off her coat. Griff took it from her, and hung it next to his on the hooks near the door.

“Nothing for me.”

“I’m fine,” Griff said.

“Please have a seat.” Nikki waved a hand toward the rectangular table in the center of the room. It was made of smoked glass and steel with five chairs arranged around it. Nikki moved to sit at the head of the table where there was a file folder, along with a pad and pen already neatly arranged.