Of course I recognized the symbol immediately; it matched the graffiti tag that graced the London warehouse, overlooking the copious dead bodies littering the floor. It also matched the mark left on a mirror in Tessa’s house.
I’ve just been too anxious to dial the number.
Since all this went down, guilt and shame have been constant companions. I know I did the right thing letting Tessa and Rebecca go. The crimes against them far outweighed the ones they did in return. There is a part of me that is even proud of them. But, and it’s a big but—I’ve trained all my adult life to hunt killers and put them away. I’m not supposed to condone murder.
And yet, did I secretly rejoice when I saw the mangled body of the man that killed my sister? Damn right. He deserved everything that happened to him.
But in the meantime, every day that passes, my anxiety grows. I even wake in the middle of the night, sweaty and gasping, images of jail cells and my parents’ disappointed faces playing heavily in my dreams.
A brisk knock at the door causes me to yelp, and my hand comes up to cover my racing heart.Calm the fuck down, Gerhardt. Quickly stuffing the card back in the drawer, I take a deep breath, and call out, “Come in.”
The door opens and my assistant, Jessica, strolls in. Her eyes are wide as they meet mine, and she closes the door quietly behind her before making her way over to my desk, sitting down in the chair opposite it.
Her face is pale, brows pulled low, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “What is it, Jess?”
She wrings her hands, then grips the armrests. “Director Buchanan is here; he’s just arrived from New York. Um, he’s requested a meeting with you in conference room two.” She meets my eyes, then glances down.
“What else?”
“You need to teach me that trick.”
My brows draw together. “What trick?”
Jess huffs a small laugh. “The one where you know there’s something I’m not telling you. It would come in handy when my kids are older.”
With three young children, I can see how she might need to learn it before they’re teenagers. I make a mental note to do so.
“So, what are you not telling me?”
“It’s nothing major, honestly. A few of the interns heard he wants to speak to you, and it’s spreading around the building pretty quickly.”
Anyone who tells you FBI agents aren’t as big gossipmongers as the rest of the population is lying to you.
Rolling my eyes, I stand, running my hands down my pressed slacks. They’re not clammy. Not at all. Ignoring my racing heart and the beads of sweat threatening to start running down my face, I follow Jessica out of the room and toward my doom.
Every step closer to the conference room has my heart thudding louder, reminding me of the story by Edgar Allan Poe. I’m praying my thundering heart doesn’t give me away. Jess stops outside the door, and I take a deep breath as she opens it.
Stepping inside, my soul shrivels a little at the sight of the man sitting at the desk at the head of the room. He looks to be in his late forties, his once auburn hair now liberally sprinkled with gray. Two men stand behind him, and I almost trip over my feet when their eyes meet mine. They’re identical twins, but with enough differences that you can tell them apart. Both have dark brown hair and matching eyes, firm jaws, and straight noses. The one on the left wears his hair perfectly styled, with dark-framed glasses perched on his nose. The one on the right looks a little more laid back, his hair a little shaggier.
Every reverse harem fantasy I’ve ever had is currently running through my mind, and I can feel my core heating under their gazes. I had a brief affair with Dutch’s partner, Chase, before we discovered he was one of Vincenzo Gianelli’s moles but haven’t been with anyone since. My lower anatomy is now firmly reminding me of that fact.This is so not the time for this,I remind myself.
Slamming the lid shut on the lust singing in my veins, I take a seat across from the desk when the Director gestures toward it. Jess backs out of the room, leaving me to my own devices.Traitor.I’m taking her off my Christmas card list.
I sit perfectly still, my fingers twisted in my lap as Director Buchanan’s eyes bore into mine. I’m fully aware of this technique—sit quietly and just wait for the suspect to incriminate themselves. I grit my teeth and press my lips together tightly, hoping the wild fluttering in my neck doesn't give my nervousness away.
“Agent Gerhardt. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Director Buchanan begins after several tense minutes pass. “Your work over the years has been exemplary.” He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin while he regards me. The twins stand like sentinels at his back, arms crossed over their chests.
“Th-thank you, sir,” I reply hesitantly.Fuck, what is going on?
“What I am about to discuss with you does not go past this room. Except to discuss with Dutch in private. Is that clear?”
“I understand.” I sit up straighter, my knuckles white with how hard I’m clasping them.
“It was my decision to send you to Arizona to help my niece, Agent Daniella Buchanan, with finding the Retribution Killer. Are you aware of this?”
“Yes, Agent Manning informed me of that before she sent me there.”
He nods. “Good. Every so often, an agent of extraordinary talent and work ethic comes across my desk. When they do, I like to keep an eye on their career. The FBI needs good agents like you.”
