Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next day . . .
Emmett stood in his office staring back at the man who’d made an unannounced visit to Echo Team’s headquarters a few minutes before. Tall. Well-dressed. Strong jaw covered in a mostly dark, trimmed beard.
The powerful man had been around since R.I.S.C.’s conception. From what Emmett knew of him, he was hardnosed but fair. Right now, however, the guy looked pissed.
Not that Emmett could blame him.
“I hope you have an explanation, Mr. Shaw.” Jason Ryker shoved his hands into the pockets of his neatly pressed suit pants. “And it had better be good, because your team’s already down one member. I’d hate to think McQueen made a mistake in choosing you, too.”
The aforementioned too was in reference to their former teammate, Jimmy Baxter. After the prick’s major screw up a few months back nearly cost their former handler her life, McQueen fired Baxter on the spot. Lucky for them, they hadn’t seen or heard a peep from the guy since.
“There was no mistake,” Emmett assured the team’s current Homeland Security handler regarding his employment. “My team and I are working around the clock, doing everything we can to find whoever sent the shooter.”
“Are you?” One of Ryker’s dark brows arched high, his strong features giving away the other man’s doubt, along with his disbelieving tone.
The well-deserved ass-chewing shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Because of them, one of Homeland’s most secured safe houses had been burned, and their client had almost been killed.
It had been days since the most recent attempt on Janie’s life, and they were still no closer to finding the person who’d ordered the hit. Hence Ryker’s impromptu visit.
“Yes, sir. I’m sure.” Emmett gave his head a nod. “Savage has been working around the clock to I.D. the shooter, and hopefully his employer. But the guy’s a ghost, so it hasn’t been easy. We should have a more concrete lead very soon.”
The sooner the better, there, Blake.
“You’d better pray that you do.” Ryker unbuttoned his suit jacket and, with a sigh, sat down in one of the chairs facing Emmett’s desk.
With an ankle crossed over one knee, the man’s dress shoes reflected the room’s recessed lights.
“Walk me through everything from the beginning. And don’t leave a single detail out. ”
Emmett kept his expression schooled, praying the guilt he was feeling didn’t show. It didn’t stem from having mind-blowing sex with Janie the night before. He also felt no regrets over their second round in the shower that morning.
He felt guilty because there were most definitely a few details he planned to leave out. Namely those pertaining to his time spent in the arms of his client.
“Janie Reynolds, our client, met Amy Weaver by accident the day she went missing. The two literally bumped into one another as Janie was leaving the Washington Post. They exchanged a few friendly words in which Janie picked up on Amy’s fear.
She gave the young intern her card, and Amy texted her later that night to make plans to meet.
But when Janie got there, Amy was nowhere to be found, and her apartment appeared to have been professionally cleaned. ”
“The news said the intern’s cause of death was a suicide.”
“My expert says otherwise.”
Ryker blinked. “You have an expert?”
“Dr. Scarlett O’Neill,” Emmett shared the woman’s name. “She’s friends with Talia, and also the country’s top independent forensics consultant. Talia reached out to her on our behalf the other day, and she was able to get Janie and me access to the chief M.E.’s office.”
“I’m familiar with Dr. O’Neill’s work,” Ryker revealed. “She’s well-respected within the DC ranks.”
Score one for the good guys.
“She said she works closely with Chief Medical Examiner Nguyen, which was how she knew he kept paper files on the city’s high-profile cases.”
Ryker grew quiet as he considered this a moment. “You said she got you and your client access.” The man’s intelligent dark eyes held his. “Am I right to assume Dr. Nguyen wasn’t present at the time you and Miss Reynolds came into possession of these files?”
“He was not,” Emmett answered truthfully. “Dr. O’Neill thought it best not to involve him at that time, and given he’s the one that signed off on the BS suicide story, I’d say she made the right call.”
“By having you break into the Chief M.E.’s office?”
“Technically, Dr. O’Neill did the breaking in.” Emmett risked a small shrug.
A muscle at the side of Ryker’s jaw twitched, and he didn’t say anything more for several very tense seconds. Emmett kept his composure, unsure of which direction the conversation was headed.
“The news said the Weaver girl committed suicide.” The other man gave a slight shift of position in his seat.
Reaching down to his right, Emmett opened a drawer and pulled out the file containing the real cause. “That’s the story they want the public to believe.” He offered the man the folder. “Evidence of the real cause of death is in here.”
Ryker scooted to the edge of the chair and took the folder from his hands. He sat back, flipped it open, and began skimming through its contents while Emmett told him what O’Neill had shared about the lack signs on Amy’s body from a person’s typical flight or fight response.
“She can better explain it, but given all that’s happened since, I’d say the woman’s assessment is spot on.”
He then went back over the rest of what they knew. The attack in Janie’s hotel room. Specifics from the night of the safe house shooting. And the lack of evidence at every turn.
“Blake’s been working non-stop trying to ID the dead shooter, but the guy’s like a ghost. His prints aren’t in any system he’s been able to find.
“Whoever’s behind this is smart, and they’ve done this before.” Ryker gave a solemn nod of his head. “The attempted hits were professional. Question is who hired them, and why?”
Emmett couldn’t agree more. “And it all goes back to Amy Weaver.”
The room grew quiet before the team’s handler pushed himself back up to his feet. Rebuttoning his jacket, Ryker told him, “I’ll ask around. Discretely. See if I can shake anything loose.”
“We’ll keep digging on our end, as well.” Emmett rolled his chair back before standing and walking toward the other man.
The evidence they needed was out there somewhere, and he and his team wouldn’t stop until they found it.
“You know, Shaw, my offer of another safe house still stands.”
“I appreciate that, but for now, I prefer to keep my client on my home turf.”
“I get that.” Ryker nodded. “Did the same thing with my wife, Soph. Of course, that was before she became my wife.”
“Pretty sure I heard that story.” Emmett thought back to conversations past. “Something to do with an overseas med group mission and a corrupt Syrian president . . .”
He couldn’t recall the details, but the gist had been pretty clear. A woman Ryker knew had been targeted. He’d made himself her personal protector, and in the process of catching a killer, the two had fallen in love.
Sounds familiar.
“Aside from putting Soph into federal custody, which she would have fought tooth and nail, my home was the safest place I knew.”
“Seemed to work out pretty well for the two of you.” Emmett grinned.
“That it did.” The man’s smile spread wide. “Of course, that was different. Sophie and I . . . well. It’s not as if you and Miss Reynolds are romantically involved.”
His stomach dropped, and his lungs ceased to pull in air.
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t—
Emmett blinked. Just the once. But Apparently it was enough. Because the second he did, Ryker’s stoic face fell.
“Ah, hell.” The man looked away with a groan before bringing his knowing gaze back to Emmett’s. “You did it, didn’t you?”
Did it?
The unexpected question left him blinking with confusion. Had Special Agent in Charge Jason Ryker seriously just use the phrase “did it” to describe what happened between him and Janie last night?
“Did it’, sir?”
He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
“Don’t insult me by pretending to be stupid, Shaw. You know exactly what I mean.”
Emmett really hated to disappoint the high-ranking Homeland official, but unfortunately, acting stupid was the only plan he had.
“I really don’t,” he lied.
“No?” It was clear Ryker wasn’t buying his story. “So you’re going to stand there, look me in the eyes, and tell me you haven’t fallen for your client?”
Fallen for my—
Understanding of the meaning behind the man’s previous words struck like a two-by-four to the face. Albeit far less embarrassing than having a conversation about sex with Jason Ryker, Emmett still wasn’t comfortable discussing his burgeoning feelings for Janie with him or anyone else.
Especially when he wasn’t completely clear on how he felt, himself.
Did he care about Janie? Hell yes, he did. Much more than he probably should. Was it love?
How the hell should I know?
For a man who’d never been in love before, it was impossible to be sure. But whatever it was—whatever these feelings were that he’d been trying to decipher—they’d solidified his commitment to do whatever it took to keep Janie safe.
“That’s what I thought.” Ryker sighed, running a hand over his rugged jaw. “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”
Wait . . . what?
There was no question Emmett’s face gave away his surprise. “I’m sorry?”
Ryker took him off guard, yet again when the man blew out a huff of a laugh. “At this point, it may as well be part of the R.I.S.C. job description.”
“Sir, I’m afraid I don’t—”
“Cut the crap, Shaw.” The other man’s dark brows dipped inward. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You let yourself get close to the woman you’ve been protecting, and feelings developed. There may have even been a kiss or two.” His intelligent eyes searched Emmett’s intently. “Maybe more?”
He knows.
“Sir, I can explain.”
And then I’ll pack up my shit and leave voluntarily so you don’t have to tell me I’m fired.