“I do not pout.” Anya’s lips quirked into a reluctant smile. “I’m listening.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Anya was upand pacing again, but this time it wasn’t because of Jaime’s insane plan. No, this pacing was courtesy of the information Jaime had just given Anya. Information that had come directly from Max.
“I need to see the files,” Anya said, distracted.
“I haven’t even seen them yet.” Jaime looked up in time to see Anya’s expression. This was a different side to the woman she was quickly becoming attached to. It wasn’t Lady AorAnya. No, this was Dr. Anastasia Grant.Special Agent, Jaime silently reminded herself, feeling only a little envious. “I think, with your background, we could say you’re a consultant and get you those files. But the plan can’t wait, Anya. You’ve given us a good profile to start with.”
“What if I’m wrong?”
Jaime wouldn’t show it, but she was surprised by the sudden lack of confidence in Anya’s voice.
“And even if I’m right,everyoneat that club knows you’re a cop, Jaime. You’re inherently untrusting. Your unsub won’t be able to use his charm on you the way he did the others. Hewillambush you.”
“That’s why I’ll have backup. Max will be waiting outside the club for me, and he’s pulling a few bodies he trusts to sit on my place.” Jaime cleared her throat. “And here.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Anya shook her head and lifted a hand. “I don’t want anyone surveilling me. I’ve told you that, Jaime.”
“It’s not surveillance. It’s protection.” Jaime stood and blocked Anya from pacing any further. “We need to catch this guy. I understand what I’m proposing is unorthodox, but undercover cops have been doing unorthodox things for a long time to close cases.”
Anya lifted a brow. “Including having sex on camera with a dominatrix?”
Jaime’s insides ached hearing those words. Just the idea that they’d ever been intimate had her hands clammy all over again. “It’s less deadly than a lot of other shit that happens when UCs fall down those crazy rabbit holes.”
“The five women who have been killed and dismembered after having sex with me wouldprobablydisagree with you.” Though those words had been said without emotion, Anya felt the guilt along with an ache deep inside for their incredible loss.
“Hey,” Jaime whispered as she caressed Anya’s cheek. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“Mm.” Anya pulled away from Jaime’s touch and again distracted herself with unnecessary work in the kitchen.
“Your hesitation, your…fear, isn’t just about this case, is it?”
“Jaime.”
Jaime reached out and took one of Anya’s fidgeting hands. “Talk to me, please. This whole listening thing goes both ways, and I’m actually quite good at it.” She squeezed Anya’s hand. “Let me in, please?”
The last person Anya let in had betrayed her, but Jaime wasn’t that person. Anya knew it deep down. She felt it as apsychologistandas a woman whose heart was quickly softening for a certain detective.
“More tea?”
Jaime laughed. “Now who’s stalling?”
“Now who’s psychoanalyzing?” Anya countered with a smirk. “And I’m not stalling. I just think better with something in my hands.”
“Fine. More tea. But I’ll need to use your restroom while you make it.”
Anya chuckled and pointed towards the bathroom door, mumbling ‘lightweight’ as Jaime passed her by. When Jaime disappeared behind the bathroom door, Anya’s smile faded. It was quickly followed by a heavy sigh. This was a story she could have gone the rest of her life without repeating. Yet, surprisingly, the idea of telling Jaime brought a strange sense of relief.
“Okay! I’m ready for another round of tea. Liquid and otherwise.”
Anya made it a point not to ‘doomscroll’ on social media, but that didn’t mean she was unfamiliar with the lingo young people used these days. “How old are you, Detective?”
Jaime hesitated in her step. “Thirty-six. Why?”
Anya shook her head. Age had never mattered to her. In her mind, age was nothing more than a number when it came to two consenting adults. She only thought about it when she heard those trendy terms that made her laugh… or cringe.
“Just curious.” Anya lifted a shoulder. “Come on. Let’s utilize my backyard while it’s a nice day. I’ll tell you why I left the FBI.”
