Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (13 page)

Once the elevator doors open, I step down the hall, passing the small conference and briefing room. As soon as I reach my desk, my phone rings. It’s Teague. He requires my presence in his office.

I guess this is it.

Working my way down the long hall, I absentmindedly straighten my sleeveless blouse and jacket. Checking my reflection in the glass wall of the conference room, I make sure my hair is all in place before I reach his office.

Bracing myself, I take a deep, cleansing lungful, let it out, and softly knock on his door.

“Come in.” Teague’s robust order vibrates through the door.

As soon as I step inside, a young man shoots right up in his seat.

“Agent Adams, this is Agent Harper. Harper,” Teague gestures to the young man, “meet Jack Adams. Your new partner.”

“Ma’am, it’s an honor. I’ve heard a lot about you. I look forward to working together.” He turns and eagerly shakes my hand.

He’s heard a lot about me?
Great
. I thought I was done with the “freak agent” gossip.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, dryly. I’m in no mood to teach someone the ropes.

As we finally sit down, I look my new partner over.

Dear Lord. An image of Bambi trying to walk over the ice pops into my mind.

He’s about Charlie’s height, few inches shy of six feet, clean, shiny.

Bright-eyed and bushy tailed.
Lucky me
.

He’s wearing a Junior Agent uniform—AKA, a brand-spanking new suit his parents probably bought for him. His hair is short and pointing every which way. Probably his attempt at some kind of hairstyle that’s supposed to scream casual but took him an hour in front of the mirror. His baby face is cleanly shaven, and he has the brightest, powder blue eyes framed by the thickest, blackest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man.

I doubt he’s seen any action in the field. He stinks of hope and positivity.

My guess? He’s fresh out of the academy.

Teague confirms my suspicions as he fills me in on the new recruit. “Adams just graduated from Quantico and he’s new to the Chicago area, so any help you can give him regarding relocation would be great.”

I just stare at Teague with my biggest bullshit look and nod, playing along. His voice is civilized and polite, though his eyes are anything but. They are telling me to shut up, show him the ropes, and break the kid in.

“Special Agent Harper is one of our best here in the Chicago Bureau,” Teague adds, shooting me a warning glare. “I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

The guy grins and nods at Teague, so happy just to be here. I give him six months before that bright and shiny polish starts to wear off. That’s if Charlie doesn’t eat him alive. I wonder if he’ll douse him in ketchup first.

“Now, Harper will show you where your desk is. My door is always open if you ever need anything.” Teague is dismissing us, but Adams stays seated, nodding again.

I’ve got my work cut out for me.

“All right, thank you, sir.” I tap Adams on the shoulder and he eagerly gets up, ready for action.

His optimism is going to grate on my nerves awfully quick.

قلب

“Well, this is our stop.” I reach my desk and point to Tommy’s old one, now Adams’s new home. Our desks are still arranged as Tommy and I had them: facing each other. It was the way we worked best, bouncing ideas back and forth.

Adams sits down and places his palms on the desk, fascination in his eyes as he caresses the surface. To have that level of enthusiasm for anything, it’s a sight to behold. If I think about it really hard, it is actually kind of sweet.

I sit down at my desk and boot up my computer. Ryan and Nelson must have stepped out, so it’s just the two of us.

“Agent Harper, I just want to say, I look forward to learning from the best. You’re a legend,” Adams says in a hushed tone.

I stop typing and glare at him. I have no clue why he would say such a thing. How the hell does he even know anything about me? And that “legend” comment bugs the shit out of me.

As soon as he takes in my expression, he quickly amends, “We studied your serial killer case in Quantico. Excellent work. I’m very sorry about your...incident, ma’am.”

I’m dumbfounded. They’re discussing my case at the academy? This I have to hear.

“I’m sorry, what incident?” I ask him, feigning curiosity, watching him squirm.

“
Umm
, according to our case study, you were reported missing due to a possible abduction, and…,” he hesitates, “
umm
, you were injured while you apprehended the suspect.”

“
Ah
. That,” I answer, returning my attention to my computer.

He quietly fumbles around in the drawers, and nervously fiddles with the computer. I let him sweat. Around here, we don’t talk about those things. If anyone feels like talking, that’s what the bureau psychologist is for. He doesn’t know what to do, so if he’s waiting for me to clarify or share, neither one is going to happen.

Adams clears his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

Enough
. Time to set him straight.

Taking my eyes away from my computer, I zero in on him. He flinches a bit and swallows hard. I inhale deeply and close my eyes for a few seconds before I address him.

“First, enough with the ‘ma’am’ shit. I’m not even thirty yet. Call me Agent, or Harper, or both.” I scowl at him. “Second, there’s no sharing of
feelings
. You want to sit around and talk, the psychologist would love to hear it.” His eyes are open so wide, the white around his blue irises is showing. “And third, only speak when spoken to. At least for today. Got it?”

He is so scared of me, I think he stopped breathing. He nods rapidly.

I study him for a minute, his sharp cheekbones, and—oh God, he’s even got freckles. The foxes in this building are going to be all over Bambi.

Right on cue, Nelson and Ryan arrive at their desks. I make quick introductions without looking up from my computer.

“Nelson, Ryan, meet my new partner, Jack Adams.”

He jumps up from his seat but doesn’t say a word.

“Nice to meet you, Adams.” Nelson extends his hand and Adams finally smiles.

Charlie doesn’t even try. He plops down in his seat and gets right to work. Nelson, the ever detective on the other hand, begins his interrogation.

“So, Adams, background?”

Adams looks puzzled for a second, and then springs into action. “Degree from Cornell University, computer science major, worked two years with San Francisco Software Company, and then went right to Quantico. It’s been my life-long aspiration to be an FBI agent.”

Nelson smiles and nods. No wonder he smelled like money, he sounds like a mini Nelson.

“Excellent, I’m a Yale man myself,” Nelson tells him.

Pretty soon, they’ll be playing golf. This is my opportunity to dump Adams on Nelson’s lap, and I don’t waste a second.

“That’s great, Nelson, why don’t you show Adams around? He’s new to Chicago, you know. I bet Chris would love to—”

Nelson bites. “Absolutely! Where are my manners? You’ll have to join us for dinner, Adams. My wife will insist.”

Charlie and I exchange a knowing glance. Birds of a feather and all.

“So,” Charlie finally chimes in, “I’m Charlie Ryan. How old are you? Twenty-four?”

I suppress a smile but Adams doesn’t even bat an eye. He puffs his chest out a bit. “Actually, I turn twenty-five this fall. I finished Cornell early, got a jumpstart thanks to my high school’s postsecondary program.”

Charlie gives him a “
You don’t say?
” smirk then glances at me. All I can do is pretend I’m working and duck my head in order to hide my grin.

As Nelson leads the new and improved Mini-Nelson away for a tour, Ryan and I remain behind. The second they clear the corner, Charlie mumbles, “He’s gonna get us killed.”

I smile. My thoughts exactly.

قلب

On his second day on the job, I get Adams situated with final details. There’s some paperwork to fill out and business cards to order.

For now, we’ll be assisting Ryan and Nelson with their current case. Credit card fraud well into the seven digits. The trail is getting cold since they haven’t been able to connect all the dots. Every time they get close to narrowing it down and pinpointing a lead, shit goes nowhere.

Nelson is going by the book, while Charlie wants to kick doors in and take names.

After countless hours of groundwork, they’ve finally brought a suspect in for questioning. Tensions are mounting, and there’s a lot riding on this guy.

Ryan and Nelson have been holding him for a few hours with nothing to show for it.

Adams is like a little kid fidgeting in his seat, glancing at me for permission to go watch. He’s so green he doesn’t realize he doesn’t need my permission. He needs an invitation.

When Nelson comes back to his desk, I take the chance to get Adams in.

“How’s it going in there, Nelson?” I ask, as he’s searching his desk for papers. He looks frustrated, and edgy. Very unlike him. He’s usually the calm and collected one.

“Nada. This guy hasn’t said two words. This is huge, Harper. We have to get something. I don’t know where to go from here.”

Shit.
He’s running out of options. “Listen, why don’t you let Adams watch, you know, get a feel for interrogation?” I suggest, and Adams shoots me grateful smile.

“Sure, there’s nothing to see really. Charlie is in there now.”

Nelson grabs some notes then heads back with Adams right behind him. I want to assist as much as I can but the truth is, I’m rusty. It’s been a while.

Nelson breaks through my thoughts as if he can read them. “Listen, Harper, I could really use your help on this one,” he pauses, carefully choosing his words, “if you’re up to it. I understand if you’re...busy.”

I know Nelson. He wouldn’t be asking me to step in if he didn’t need the help. I guess there’s only one way to find out if I’m ready.

“All right, but, do you mind if I watch you guys first?”

“Sure. Let’s go.” I put my things away and follow Nelson to interrogation.

قلب

We enter the small space, closing the door behind us. It’s standing room only, a little bigger than a walk-in closet, with one wall made of a two-way mirror. On the other side, Charlie is sitting across from the suspect. The room is bare, with the exception of three chairs and a metal table.

On the walk here, Nelson told me they’ve gone in separate and together, and the guy still won’t talk. They picked him up by tracing a stolen credit card and fake account to him. So far it’s showing just credit card fraud nationwide, but if their current evidence is any indication, there may be some cyber terrorism or worse going on.

If civilians only knew what it took in man-hours to build a case. Months, sometimes years of manpower, twenty-four-seven, just to be able to shut that lid tight enough some high-roller defense attorney can’t shake it loose, no matter how hard they try. If Nelson doesn’t put this to bed, Chris is going to kill him and Charlie is going to get himself suspended.

Charlie is leaning over the table, threatening the guy with very imaginative language; the suspect doesn’t even flinch at the mention of his mother or Charlie’s colorful narrative. Instead, he glares at Charlie with an amused expression, and then looks around the room as if he’s bored.

The guy is a big badass: shaved head, thick muscled forearms, ink covering every inch of them. One tattoo wraps around his left arm, disappearing under his ratty t-shirt, and reappearing on his neck. Faded ripped jeans and black biker boots finish his getup.

“Nelson, why do you think this guy will know anything?” I’m intrigued.

“His purchase came from a stolen card we had flagged, but the guy has no priors when it comes to felony charges. We found a couple of skimming devices in his possession, so we think he can lead us to who’s running this thing. Offered him a deal to help him out, but he still won’t talk.”

I watch the guy while Charlie leans on him. The suspect’s body language screams upper hand. He’s not going to talk, especially to Charlie. They’re two sides of the same coin; one on the good side, and one on the bad side. Nelson? Well, to this guy, Nelson is as threatening as a politician. Nelson taps on the glass, getting Charlie’s attention.

Charlie stands up, pushing his chair back so hard it hits the wall. He crams into the small room with us. Once alone, the suspect smiles, one brow rising, an amused expression on his face.

“This guy is pissing me off—” He looks to Adams then me, and his brow shoots up in question. “Please tell me you’re going in there, Harper. So far, he’s not biting. He’s a hardass.”

“Yeah. I’m going in.” I’ll just need to double-check my gut feeling first. “Where’s this guy’s info?” I ask Charlie, and he hands me a folder. I open it, quickly glancing at his bio.

Then I see a red flag waving nice and loud: every case, he had female attorneys. I was right.

“Okay. I’m going to need more folders, eyeglasses, and two cold drinks—one of them with a straw. Also, raise the thermostat ten degrees.”

I pull my hair up, and using a stray pen, haphazardly pin my curls, exposing my neck. I remove my blazer and straighten my sleeveless white satin blouse, unbuttoning the top button. The V pattern of skin from the hollow of my throat to my chest is on display. I take my necklace off and pocket it. Nelson returns with the fake eyeglasses he retrieved from my supply drawer and more folders. I just need them for my entrance.

“There. I’m ready.”

Charlie’s dimple flashes as he mutters in a mischievous tone, “You dirty, dirty girl.” But a shit-eating grin covers his face.

Grabbing the files and holding them tightly to my chest, I put my game face on and open the door.

قلب

Thirty minutes later, I walk out of the interrogation room with a possible lead: a name and phone number.

The guys smile my way, having watched the whole thing through the two-way mirror.

Charlie starts a slow, loud clap, shaking his head, “Bravo, Harper. Bravo!”

Nelson just smiles as I hand him a notepad. “I hope this helps.”