A Loaded Question Page 16

  “Why? Wait—do you want me to come with you?” Hunt called after her.

  “No.” She didn’t need a witness if she lost it on the one man outside the agency whom she had chosen to give her trust to.

  This was what she got for opening up to a man. When would she learn her lesson and just get a dog and not try to go for the whole relationship package? This had all been too quick. She should have known better, been more cautious.

  She took out her phone as she walked from the federal building and made her way to her car. Pushing the buttons, she dialed Troy. He had better answer his damn phone.

  It rang, finally going to voice mail.

  Her rage burned hotter, melting through what little self-restraint she still possessed. When she found him, he was going to not only get a piece of her mind, but he was probably going to get a swift throat punch right along with it.

  But first, she had to find him.

  How was it that when she didn’t think she needed him, he was just around the corner, but now that she wanted to find him, he had gone completely dark?

  As she made it to the car, she wasn’t sure where she should start looking for Troy. Would he still be at STEALTH headquarters? For all she knew, like Hunt had implied, he had used her for what he needed and now he had already bugged out.

  Then again, Zoey had vouched for him. Or he had said Zoey had vouched for him. Had that been a lie too? She hadn’t actually talked to her or anyone else in STEALTH.

  But her father had vouched for him and his brother... And was Mike his brother? Had anything he told her about himself been true? Had his girlfriend even been killed?

  What if all he had been doing was manipulating her as he tried to get what he needed for his assignment or for whatever purpose he had in mind?

  An icy chill ran down her spine.

  No. She had to stop swirling the drain. Hunt had to be wrong.

  But now that he had pointed out his suspicions, she couldn’t help but follow her thoughts to the inky darkness of what Troy could have been doing. The farther she drove, the angrier she became.

  By the time she was bumping down the dirt road that led to the Widow Maker Ranch, where STEALTH’s headquarters was located, she was seething. She pulled the car to a skidding stop in the gravel parking lot and charged toward the ranch house’s front door.

  Using the mammoth cast-iron lion’s head knocker, she banged on the door. The sound echoed out into the still morning. A cow bawled in the distance, the only one who dared to answer. There was an electronic whir as a camera moved overhead and the aperture moved to focus.

  She knocked again.

  “I’m coming,” a woman called from the other side of the door. There were the sounds of footfalls and a metal slide. Zoey, her hair a dark purple, opened the door. “What are you doing here, Agent Scot? Is there something I can help you with this morning?”

  She charged into the house. “Where is Troy?”

  “Um, excuse me? What are you doing? What did he do?” Zoey slammed the door shut and chased after her, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around so they were facing one another. “What happened?”

  “Did you know that he used to work for Rockwood?” she spit.

  Zoey frowned. “What about it? Several of our employees have worked for Rockwood in the past.”

  “I think they all may still be working for them. Are you in on this?” She nearly growled as she stared at the dark eyeliner that made Zoey’s eyes appear catlike.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “Troy!” she yelled, pulling out of Zoey’s grasp. “Troy! Where in the hell are you?”

  Zoey jogged beside her as she charged down the hallway toward what looked like the bedrooms. “You have to tell me what is going on.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me where Troy is? Then he can tell both of us what he is doing and why.”

  Zoey pointed toward a door at the end of the hall. Kate rushed in that direction, and not bothering to knock, she threw open the bedroom door.

  Troy was just starting to sit up. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and as he spotted her, he moved his hand away from the nightstand where his holster rested.

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on that gun, or your friend Sal won’t be the only one who I put a bullet into this week,” Kate ordered.

  Zoey grabbed her hand, flipping it behind her back and pinning it upward. “Look, I don’t know what is going on here, but there is no way I’m going to let you charge into our headquarters and draw down on one of my employees. We have one rule here—no shooting in the house.”

  Troy put his hands up, shock registering on his features. “What is going on, Kate? What are you doing here?”

  “Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out about your past? What you are really up to?” She turned to Zoey. “Did you know that your boy here has ties to the sniper who allegedly tried to kill him and Mike? It’s all an effing setup. And I was the fool who fell for it.”

  Zoey opened her mouth as she glanced over at Troy and then back to her, as though she was trying to make sense of all the things that Kate was saying. “Are you talking about Rockwood?” she asked, finally finding the words.

  “Rockwood?” Troy asked, rubbing the sleep from his face. “Dude, I haven’t worked for them in years.”

  “Don’t lie. You may not be working for Rockwood, but you asked Sal to do what he did.” There was the burn of tears as they started to collect in her eyes. “You never thought he would get hurt. You never thought I would take that shot. That I would make that shot. I killed a man. All because you and STEALTH wanted to get access to my family’s company.”

  “What?” Troy frowned and his lips parted—he looked absolutely confused.

  He was a gifted liar. He had to have known exactly what she was talking about. Or maybe she was wrong and she had flown off the deep end.

  No. She was right. Everything pointed in this direction.

  “If you’re not in on this, then what in the hell is going on? If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck—it’s a goddamned duck. You are a duck.” She felt stupid as soon as she said it, but in her stressed state, she had a hard time coming up with anything eloquent. All she could focus on was her own pain in falling for the wrong man.

  Why had she strayed from her Bureau training? The training that tried to impress upon them that everything anyone ever did was always selfishly motivated. Troy had done what he needed to do to get the answers that he needed. It was all about him, and she had forgotten about that, letting herself get swept away by the ill-advised belief that he cared about her.

  As the tears threatened to leak through, she turned and charged out of the room. He couldn’t see her cry again. She needed to get herself back into check, compartmentalize her feelings—especially any that were about him.

  After arriving back at her car, she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and counted to ten, pinching back the tears.

  This was going to be okay.

  She was going to be okay.

  Sure, she had made a mistake in getting involved with Troy. But maybe there was some kind of positive outcome that she could draw from it... What had he taught her?

  Her mind drew a blank. All she could think about was the ache within her.

  At Quantico, they had taught her that there were two driving factors in everyone’s psyche—love and fear. It was what motivated every single action a person took. Even hate could come back to love. Rage could come back to fear. And when a person mixed these two simple concepts, no weapon could be more deadly.

  At the time during training, she had thought she had understood what her instructors had meant, but now...in this situation, the true visceral, terrifying truth of what they had said struck home.

  She could never get in another relationship again. It was so m
uch easier being alone, walls around her feelings and the sentinels of aloofness standing guard at her gates.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kate’s house was empty, the yellow tape still fluttering in the breeze like it was celebrating the desecration of their lives last night. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen a more morose object, and it struck him how something so mundane could carry so much meaningful pain.

  Troy had to find her. He had to set things right. To tell her everything about him and open up in as many ways as he could.

  As good as he was at being a shadow, trying to find her this morning just proved to him that she was equally as qualified and adept at his kind of games—two shadows brought together could bring only darkness. And right now, he found himself restless in the inky black. Though he had vowed he would never let himself get to this point again, here he was. At least this time there was a slight glow of light at the edge of the darkness: hope. But with each passing second, the glimmer diminished.

  Zoey’s name popped up on his phone, and with it came a text message. She had spotted Kate’s car downtown, near the federal building. She was parked in front of a bookstore called Fact & Fiction and was probably inside.

  He knew the place and turned the car around, hitting the gas like he was bearing down on a fugitive—fighting for the love of his life was similar in a number of ways. Each was equally terrifying, and in both instances, lives depended on the outcome of his actions.

  Kate’s car was parked exactly where Zoey had pinpointed it, and not for the first time, he thanked his lucky stars. Parking on the street near the car, he got out and made his way to the bookstore. There was a note on the door: Closed.

  About right. So much for things being easy.

  It gnawed at him that he didn’t know Kate well enough to figure out where she would go when she was upset. Did it mean that he didn’t really love her? That what he was feeling was merely infatuation? Lust?

  If that was all it was, then why hadn’t her rushing into his bedroom and falsely accusing him of a crime put a stop to his feelings? And by rushing him, that had to mean she had feelings for him too, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t have tipped her hand and gone at him directly.

  That had to mean something, didn’t it? She had to have some sort of feelings, the kind that would make her bend rules and act against her better judgment.Which only meant one thing: love.

  Though, it all could have been hopeful thinking.

  Kate was probably just angry and not thinking straight. Then again, she was a better agent than that. He couldn’t blame her for being upset or thinking what she did of him. He could understand the thought process that could have gotten her to where she was, but he had to talk her down. He had to bring her back to reality. She was fighting her biggest ally.

  If only he had the answers to why her father had been murdered and if it was truly Sal who was behind it. With Zoey’s help, he’d followed some leads that had turned up only the obvious, that Sal had tried to steal info. If he knew more, he could prove that everything he had told her was true and that he was the man she needed in her life—not an enemy and certainly not someone who wanted to hurt her.

  The street was quiet. The only other person was walking toward him, posting flyers on the light poles and traffic lights. The paper had a picture of a lost dog.

  Turning left, he made his way down the block, peeking into the variety of sandwich shops, clothing stores and coffee shops as he looked for Kate. He walked to the end of the strip of downtown buildings and was going to turn and head back toward her car to wait for her to return, but as he neared an alleyway, he spotted a gray sedan parked in the shade of the building.

  Inside the car were a man and woman. The man had his hand wrapped around the back of the woman’s head, and even from where Troy stood, he could feel the intensity of their kiss. He felt oddly out of place for even noticing their embrace. As he watched, the man looked up at him and broke away from the woman, flattening his hair and stroking his goatee. There was a mole near his left temple, and it twitched as the man looked up at him, eyes widened with surprise and a thin sweat on his face. Guilt.

  The woman turned around and, as she did, Troy recognized her brunette eyes and bobbed platinum gray hair. Deborah Scot looked much like an older version of her daughter. His gaze slipped back to the man—no wonder the man had looked shocked to see him.

  He turned around, quickly moving out of their line of sight before one of them recognized him. Not that they would have known who he was, even if they had actually taken note of him as more than anything other than a passing observer.

  But what exactly had he just seen? They had definitely been kissing. No question. Which meant there was a relationship there. He didn’t recognize the man, but it didn’t matter. Troy had just found a motive for murder.

  He hurried down the sidewalk, putting as much distance between him and his targets as possible. He didn’t need to be the next one to end up dead.

  Where was Kate? He had to find her. Taking out his phone, he ducked into the nearest door and walked into the busy coffee shop. It smelled of cinnamon and fresh-baked rolls mixed with the burnt caffeinated aroma of coffee.

  He dialed Kate.

  Answer. You need to answer.

  It went to voice mail. It took three more attempts before she finally picked up. “What do you want?”

  So, she is still pissed. Not a surprise.

  “I need you to come meet me. I’m at The Break.” He spoke fast. “It’s important. Seriously.”

  Kate scoffed. “Are you kidding me? There is no way I’m going to meet—”

  “I just spotted your mother in an alley kissing a man,” he interrupted her, not waiting for her to come at him with more vinegar. “Now. Get your ass over here.”

  There was a long pause.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” The anger was stripped from her voice.

  He stood awkwardly for a moment. A woman sitting nearest the window was looking at him, so he walked to the counter and ordered a hot tea and a cup of coffee for Kate. He paid and they handed him his cups. He added cream and sugar to hers, making it just how she liked it, before moving to the back corner of the room and finding a table away from the rest of the patrons. He folded his napkin until the bell on the door jingled, and he slipped the crane away.

  Kate walked in, and as she spotted him, a frown took over her face.

  Yep, still mad.

  He stood up as she approached the table, but her eyes darkened to the point of nearly black. One of these days he would really try to get things right with her.

  “First,” he said, motioning for her to sit. “I want to tell you that I understand where you are coming from. You’re a good agent, and your father’s case is still open. You are right to be suspicious of everybody. But I swear to all that is good in this world that I have absolutely nothing to do with any of what has happened to you.”

  “Then why were you so adamant about getting close to me, protecting me?” Her frown lessened, like she was truly trying to understand his motivation. “You know that’s abnormal. Most people don’t go out of their way for someone else. No one is selfless. That is a myth.”

  Unless they wholeheartedly love the other person.

  Right now, it didn’t seem like the right moment to point that out, so he tried stepping around the admission. “I know what you mean. And I know you are leery of trusting me or anyone right now, but if you give me a chance, I will prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust. I only want...” To love you. To marry you. To have a future with you. To keep you safe.

  There were a million things he wanted with this woman, but he didn’t know which thing he should say.

  “You want to prove yourself?” she asked, skeptically.

  “Exactly.” He nodded, feeling like a castigated schoolboy. “It’s why I called you. Why I had to talk
to you about your mother. I couldn’t just let you find out on your own. Regardless of how it made you feel, you have to know the truth. That, that ability to give another the truth even when it hurts, is trust. Isn’t it?”

  “Perhaps your candor helps, but it doesn’t make any of this an easier pill to swallow.”

  “I know, Kate, and I’m so sorry I have to be the bearer of the bad news, but I promise I will stand by your side as long as you need me. We will get to the bottom of your father’s murder—and the role your mother may or may not have played in it.”

  She gave a resigned sigh. “You said you saw her kissing someone?” She made a disgusted face as she sat down across from him at the table and took the cup of coffee he offered. “Thank you.” She took a long sip like it was a salve for the wounds to her heart—if only he could be that for her too.

  He yearned to reach out and take her hand, but he restrained himself. Right now, he needed to focus on proving himself. “Do you know a guy, gray hair, mole near the left temple?”

  She looked up and to her right, trying to recall an image. “There is a guy. I think his name was Alex or Alexi or something. He worked for ConFlux. I think he was the head of the IT department.”

  Oh, holy... He’d struck pay dirt.

  “Hold on,” he said, motioning to Kate to keep that thought as he gestured for her to go with him.

  He stood up from the table, taking out his phone and dialing Zoey. She answered before he’d even gotten to the front door of the place.

  “What’s the name of the guy who is the head of IT for ConFlux?” He walked outside, Kate close at his heels.

  “Alexi Siegal. Why?”

  “I want everything you can pull on the guy. See if he’s dropped any out-of-place or nonrequired code on their servers.” Troy’s mind worked quickly as he thought about all the things he would do if he was Alexi. “Make sure to watch all major airlines. I have a feeling that if this guy catches wind of us being on his tail, he’s going to disappear. Wouldn’t even be a bad idea if you had our people put out a BOLO on this guy.”