The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(34)

Ty followed Morgan and Michael through the labyrinthine halls and sneaked a few peeks through the open doors he passed by. He caught glimpses of plush carpets spread out across the cold hard floors. There were beds pushed into corners, couches against walls, and desks—lots and lots of desks—all overflowing with wires and mechanical pieces.

So this was where the robot makers lived…well, some of them at least. In a kind of an artistic and mechanical commune. They seemed friendly enough, judging by the smiles of the people he passed. Of course, they were. These were Morgan’s people, after all.

A minute later, they reached the far wall and the only real rooms that the warehouse seemed to have. Michael opened the office door and let them in. The compact interior was as homey as any apartment.

“You can have my room as long as you’re here,” Michael said and let the door shut behind him. “There are a couple of empty spaces I can take.”

“Thank you,” Morgan said. She clasped her hands in front of her, and flashed an apologetic smile.

Uh-oh.

Ty knew that look. Over the past few days, he’d come to know exactly what it meant.

“But I didn’t come to you just because we needed a place to stay,” Morgan said.

Michael’s shoulder fell just a fraction of an inch. Apparently, Ty wasn’t the only one who knew that look. “I figured as much. What do you need?”

Morgan sat down in the chair behind her, and stretched her fingers out on the caps of the arms rests. “How are you at safe cracking?” she asked.

***

“Morgan.”

Morgan ignored Ty’s low warning at her side. She was pretty sure she already knew his complaint. It wasn’t a good idea to involve outsiders. He didn’t know Michael. He didn’t trust him.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

But he’d agreed to trust her. And now she was going to put that to the test.

In all the years that she’d known Michael Silva, she’d never once seen him walk away from a challenge. And this time didn’t look like it was going to be any different. His eyes had already taken on that faraway look that she knew so well.

“Digital or analog?” Michael asked.

“Digital.”

“Morgan.” Ty’s voice was lower now. He stepped closer, as if his towering physical presence would be enough to intimidate her. And the truth was, usually, he’d be right. But there was nothing usual about their circumstances right now.

And while she trusted Ty with her physical safety, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to shoot or punch her way into her brother’s safe. For that she was going to need some outside help.

Michael’s gaze focused on a spot on the far wall for a few seconds. His head tilted from side to side as he thought. Toward the end of their relationship, Morgan used to hate when he would get like this—so wrapped up in a problem that he tuned out anything but possible solutions…including her.

Right now, she was finding it one of his most attractive qualities.

“Tool or torch resistant?” he asked.

Morgan shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Michael’s mouth twisted up. “How much time do I have?”

Morgan looked at the clock on the wall. It was already 10:30. “Twenty-two hours.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Michael’s shoulders relaxed. “With that much time my team should be able to whip something together.”

“Thank you,” Morgan said, feeling instantly as if a weight had been lifted off of her chest. She had bet everything on Michael’s help. Without it, she wasn’t sure what she would have done.

Actually, she was.

She’d probably be off to FBI headquarters with Ty, filling out the paperwork that would change her into Miss Gertrude Parsons of Sarasota, Florida for the rest of her days. And that was the best-case scenario.

“Well, I better get started,” Michael said, turning toward the door.

“Wait.” Ty stopped him with a simple command. His brow was deeply furrowed as Michael turned back around. “That’s it? You’re just going to go and start working on some safe-cracking robot just because Morgan asked if you could?”

“Well, it’s probably going to be a device that can read the subtle magnetic feedback of electric pulses through several inches of solid steel which means it won’t have any servos. So, it won’t technically be a robot.”

Ty’s eyes narrowed, and Morgan would have sworn that the temperature of the room plummeted a good twenty degrees.

“But…in layman’s terms…yes. That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Michael continued.

Ty folded his arms in front of his chest. “Without asking any questions?”

Michael smiled. “I’m pretty sure I already know why.”

“You do?” Ty’s brows arched. He didn’t look convinced. Morgan couldn’t fault him. He didn’t know Michael.

Michael nodded.

“You have a Navy Special Forces patch on your jacket,” he started. “With your confidence and familiarity with command, I’m guessing SEAL. And I noticed when you got off your bike that you have a government issue Glock 22 strapped to your hip. Based on the high percentage of ex-military that go into public service and law enforcement, I’m guessing you’re FBI.”