Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ZARA
I just committed the most reckless act of my entire career, but instead of being terrified, I felt exhilarated. My lips still tingled. My heart was still racing. I’d never felt more alive in my life.
What was wrong with me?
The door to our room at the Bavarian Lodge clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against it for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
Chloe was sprawled on her bed, watching a crime procedural on the hotel TV. She looked up when I entered, her expression shifting from relaxed to alert in the space of a heartbeat.
“Uh-oh …” She hit mute on the remote, then sat up. “What happened?”
I continued to stand there with my back against the door, trying to figure out how to explain something I didn’t understand myself.
Chloe studied me more carefully, her trained eye picking up details I probably didn’t even realize I was broadcasting.
“Wait—did you punch Sam in the hootie hoo again?” she asked.
I covered my face with both hands and shook my head.
“Much worse,” I said through my fingers.
“What could be worse than that?”
I dropped my hands and met her eyes. “I kissed him.”
“You—” Chloe’s mouth fell open, then she practically catapulted off the bed. “You kissed the target?”
“I don’t know what came over me!” I said, moving away from the door, peeling off my jacket, and then hanging it in the closet.
“It was like I was possessed. We were having an amazing time after you left, but then I panicked and snuck out of the restaurant while he was in the bathroom because I felt guilty about leading him on. I was on my way back here, actually. But then I felt guilty for walking out on him, since he had been nothing but kind, so I returned to München Haus and—”
“You kissed him,” Chloe finished, her voice caught somewhere between horror and fascination.
“Yes. Right on the street. And on the lips.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. It’s true.”
“This is—”
“Barmy? Demented??” I looked her in the eye and added, “Doolally?”
Chloe stood up, clearly trying to process this information. “Okay, let’s think about this logically, and figure out what your best options are at this point.” She pondered it for a few seconds, then shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got nothing.”
“It’s not just because of the guilt, though I felt terrible about the beer I spilled on him and then the accidental smack to his you-know-what,” I said. “But then he told me he was attracted to me.”
“What?!” Chloe said.
“I know, I know,” I said. “Sam is the king of mixed signals. He treats personal space like it’s radioactive, then turns around and makes me feel all fluttery with a single glance.
He lives and breathes databases, codes, and spreadsheets, but somehow is unexpectedly thoughtful, compassionate, and simply adorable. What was I supposed to do with that?”
“Kiss him, obviously.” A slow smile spread across her face. “There’s nothing sexier than a man who can express himself clearly and knows exactly what he wants.”
“This is a disaster.”
“Maybe not …” She sat back down on the bed, looking far too entertained by this situation. “I mean, yes, operationally it’s complicated. But—”
“But nothing,” I interrupted. “This is going nowhere. Sam will probably be in jail by this time next week.”
“Two words …” Chloe smirked. “Conjugal visits.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re not helping.”
“Look, we don’t know for sure that he’s going to end up in prison,” Chloe pointed out. “There’s a big difference between suspicion and actual proof, and we’ve got nothing on him yet.”
“Yet,” I echoed with more confidence than I felt. “The problem is, I always find proof.” I sank onto my bed and put my head in my hands again. “How could this be happening to me?”
“You’re human,” Chloe said. “You like him. He likes you. Under any other circumstances, this would be a good thing.”
“Life is not fair—I want a refund,” I said.
“The check’s in the mail,” Chloe said. “Wait—how did it end with Sam? What did he say after you kissed him?”
“He didn’t have a chance to say anything,” I said with a wince. “I ran away.”
She laughed. “That poor man, he must be so confused. And just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore.
” Chloe glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
“Okay, back to business because Thorne is going to check in with us any minute now. What are you going to tell him? He’s been pushing for updates. ”
“Well …”
Right on cue, my laptop chimed from the desk before I could respond to the question—the notification of an incoming secure video call.
“Good luck,” Chloe said.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to calm my nerves. “I’ll need it.”
I moved to the desk and connected the call.
Agent Thorne’s face filled the screen. He was in his office, tie loosened, desk lamp casting harsh shadows across his face. He looked like he needed a drink or two.
“I’ve only got a minute,” Thorne said without preamble. “What’s the latest on the case?”
“Still working on access,” I said, maintaining as much professionalism as I could muster. “Sam Monroe’s security is more sophisticated than we anticipated. It’s extraordinary, actually.”
“You almost sound like a fan now.”
“No, it’s just—”
Thorne’s jaw tightened, and he held up his palm. “I don’t need excuses, Mazini, I need results. Why haven’t you gotten close to him, established rapport, and earned his trust?”
“I have, but—”
“Then why don’t we have anything concrete yet?”
Because I’d spent the evening eating bratwurst, drinking beer, and flirting with him instead of doing my job.
Because I’d kissed him on a public street like a civilian with no operational discipline.
Because I was compromised in ways I didn’t even want to admit to myself, let alone my supervising agent.
“If I push too hard, too fast, I’ll spook him,” I said instead.
“Monroe is smart. Probably smarter than anyone we’ve investigated before, even you told me that.
His digital hygiene is exceptional. Everything is compartmentalized, encrypted, isolated.
The man doesn’t make mistakes. Getting evidence is going to require time and patience. ”
“We don’t have time,” Thorne said, leaning forward. “If we don’t move on this before Christmas, he goes dormant for another year. You know how this works—he hits hard during the holidays, then vanishes. We can’t afford to miss this window.”
“I understand the timeline—”
“I don’t think you do,” Thorne interrupted.
“Because I’ve got the director busting my chops daily about why we haven’t closed this case.
You told me it would be a piece of cake, and that you should have it wrapped up before the end of the week.
Now, I need to go back to him and tell him you’ve got nothing. ”
“I’m doing everything I can,” I said, wondering why there was so much pressure for this case when I hadn’t even been in Leavenworth a week.
Was there something he wasn’t telling me?
“Well, it’s not enough,” he said. “I had to take the appropriate measures to make sure we get results sooner, not later.”
“What do you mean?” I said, bracing myself for an answer I was sure I would not like.
“I’m sending in reinforcements,” Thorne said. “Agent Babbs is on her way to Leavenworth as we speak. She should be there within the hour.”
“What?!” I said. “That is unnecessary.”
Agent Barbie Babbs—yes, her real name—was my nemesis when I studied for my Criminal Justice Master’s Degree at Boston University.
She had accused me of sleeping with my professor to graduate with top honors, all because she saw me having coffee with him one day.
The truth was, he was the one who had arranged the coffee, to let me know that his friend at the FBI was very interested in talking to me about a job, the job I eventually landed.
Agent Babbs had never let it go and is still convinced to this day that I slept my way into the FBI.
“Sorry, Mazini—failure is not an option. You know she’s our top agent in the field, and she just wrapped up another case. What luck.”
If he were talking about bad luck, I would’ve agreed.
“It’s out of my hands,” Thorne added. “I hope the next time I check in with you, there will be a breakthrough in the case.”
Before I could respond, he ended the call.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
“That can’t be her already,” I whispered.
“Nothing would surprise me at this point,” Chloe said, shrugging.
I sighed and walked to the door, hoping and praying it wasn’t Babbs. All I wanted was a hot shower and to relax in bed with a book.
I peered through the peephole, and my stomach dropped.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself.
I yanked open the door to find Agent Babbs posing—actually posing—against the doorframe in an all-white, skintight ski jumpsuit.
“Surprise.” Barbie’s eyes traveled slowly from my boots to my face, taking in every inch of my earth-tone winter clothes.
Her lip curled ever so slightly. “Cute outfit, Mazini. Very sensible … and rustic.” Her gaze flicked over my shoulder, her wave at Chloe dripping with condescension. “What’s up, Davis?”
Chloe raised one hand in the most unenthusiastic greeting I’d ever witnessed, but didn’t speak. She also could not stand Barbie and usually referred to her as Bimbo Babbs.
“Can I help you?” I asked, already exhausted from being in her presence for thirty seconds. “It’s getting late.”
Barbie examined her perfectly manicured nails. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here, that’s all. Since you clearly have made no progress on this case, Thorne sent in the big guns.”
“Now’s not the time—we can discuss strategy tomorrow,” Chloe said firmly.
“Strategy?” Barbie laughed, a grating sound that made my eyes twitch.
“That’s your problem, all talk, no action.
Honestly, you two should take some time off because the cavalry has arrived.
Go see a holiday concert. Take a sleigh ride.
Maybe do some shopping …” She glanced at my clothes again.
“We don’t need to discuss a thing because I already know exactly what I need to do to get the job done. ”
“Oh, really?” I crossed my arms. “Enlighten me.”
Her smile turned predatory. “I’m going to pull something straight out of your college playbook.
” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m going to seduce Sam Monroe to get exactly what we need.
It shouldn’t take long. This has never failed me.
I’m kind of a modern-day Agent Ninety-nine, just smarter and prettier. ”
Something hot and sharp twisted in my chest. “More like Mata Hari. Plus, you’re not his type.”
Babbs laughed and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Don’t be ridiculous—I always get what I want.
Men always fall for me.” She smoothed down her flashy jumpsuit.
“By this time Friday, I'll have access to his systems, evidence in hand, and probably a marriage proposal. You know how lonely these nerds get.”
“Are you finished yet?” I asked.
Barbie took a step back, still smiling that infuriating smile. “Already leaving.” She waggled her fingers in a wave. “Beauty sleep and all. Gotta look perfect for my date with Sam tomorrow.”
“Your what?”
“You heard me,” she said. “I know where Sam gets his favorite bagel and coffee before work, what route he walks, everything that’s pertinent.
Tomorrow morning, I’m going to accidentally bump into him.
By tomorrow night, we’ll be having dinner, and the rest will be history. Watch and learn, then feel it burn.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I said.
“Of course you don’t.” She turned and sauntered away, leaving me to assume she also had no idea what it meant.
I stood frozen in the doorway, watching her disappear around the corner, my mind racing through everything that could go wrong.
Everything that would go wrong.
Chloe gently pulled me back into the room and closed the door.
“Breathe,” she said. “Just breathe.”
But I couldn’t. My mind was spinning through every interaction I’d had with Sam, every mishap, every corny joke he’d made, every moment that had felt like something real. And now Babbs was going to crash through it all like a wrecking ball in a white ski jumpsuit.
“Sam is going to get blindsided by her,” I said, shaking my head in frustration.
“He’s a smart guy—he may see it coming and surprise us,” Chloe said. “And I understand—this isn’t about the case anymore. This is about her waltzing in and taking advantage of a guy you really like.”
I nodded. “Sometimes, I feel Sam isn’t guilty of anything except kindness, or that maybe there’s much more to this case than meets the eye. Do you think this may be a set-up?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said.
“Either way, Vanilla Ice Barbie is going to ruin everything.”
“You have two options,” Chloe said. “You can stand around and watch her do whatever she wants. Or …” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “You could ruin her plans before she ruins yours.”
I looked up at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Zara, come on. Think …” She sat on the edge of the bed. “What does she have that you don’t?”
“A complete lack of conscience. No moral compass,” I said. “Perfect hair. The ability to hypnotize men with her cleavage.”
“True, but Bimbo Babbs also has a plan,” Chloe said simply. “She told you exactly what she’s going to do and where she’s going to do it. Where does Sam get his morning bagel and coffee?”
“The Bavarian Bagel Company,” I answered.
“Exactly,” Chloe said, her smile almost wicked as she waited for my brain to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.
It didn’t take long …
I felt the sudden clarity of knowing exactly what I needed to do.
“You’re right,” I said.
“Of course I’m right,” Chloe replied.
The solution was crystal clear. I’d beat Barbie to the Bavarian Bagel Company in the morning, get the best table for two, and then wait for Sam to show up. And if she thought she was getting anywhere near him, she’d have to go through me to do it.