Chapter Nine
EMMA
After five days on the island, the emptiness of Coleman’s house was more apparent. Gunner had crayon drawings on the fridge and photos of his kids crammed onto the shelves. Coleman had a laptop and two framed photographs that belonged to me.
The house looked the same from the outside. Once we were through the door, Coleman nodded toward a panel that hadn’t been there when we left, mounted near the entryway.
“Gunner upgraded the perimeter while we were in transit. Sensors along the waterline, full coverage on each approach. Motion-activated, same system he runs on his property.”
“When did he do all of this?”
“I asked him to before we left this morning. He had a crew here before we landed.”
The man had installed a full perimeter system in the time it took us to fly and drive home. I’d stopped being surprised by what Gunner could do.
I touched the edge of my parents’ frame and left it where it was.
When he opened the fridge, I was astounded by how full it was. There were fresh vegetables, labeled containers, a carton of eggs, and fruit.
“Who stocked your fridge?”
“Zary.”
He hadn’t mentioned any of it. He’d made the calls, arranged the food, and had Gunner’s crew here before we touched down. The man on the phone with Atticus had sounded like the operative. The one who’d done all this was Coleman.
He retrieved a container and opened the lid. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
He heated Zary’s braised chicken and plated it while I settled at the counter. He’d done this each morning and most nights for the last five days. Somewhere during that time, I’d stopped offering to help, because he didn’t need it, and I was terrible at it, and we both knew it.
He set the plate in front of me, and we ate at the table. The food was better than anything either of us had cooked in the last few days, and I told him so.
“Don’t let Gunner hear you say that. He’ll have Zary sending containers every week.”
“I wouldn’t hate that.”
His phone buzzed. He picked up. “Yeah.” A pause. “Roger that.” Another pause. “Copy.” He stepped out of the kitchen and kept talking.
I finished eating and washed both plates.
He was still on the call when I grabbed my suitcase and carried it to his bedroom instead of the spare one.
I hung my shirts next to his in the closet and put my toiletry bag in his bathroom.
The top right drawer of his dresser was empty when I opened it, so that’s where I put my blue bra and panties.
I shut the drawer and wondered if I was going too far. Maybe I should move everything to the other room instead. After all, that was what I was—a guest.
As I was removing things from the closet, Coleman appeared in the doorway. “That was Atticus. Luke’s had no problems with the Morrison cover. Darla’s been handling the questions regarding your absence. What time do you want to go in?”
The conversation had lasted far longer than those bits of information required. Then again, I doubted I was K19 Sentinel Cyber’s only case.
“Eight. I’ll ask Darla to arrange a team meeting first thing.”
When he didn’t respond, I sat on the edge of the bed, still holding four hangers of my clothes. “Is this too much?”
His head cocked.
“I put my things in your closet and, um, the empty dresser drawer.”
He walked over, opened, then closed it. When he turned to face me, he was smiling. “From what I remember, your lingerie drawer at the townhouse was full.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He lifted the hangers from me, returned them to his closet, then sat beside me. “No.”
“No?”
“It isn’t too much. In fact, it’s too little.”
“Maybe we should go get more for that drawer.”
He nuzzled my neck. “Now, you’re talking.”
Darla was at her desk when the elevator opened. Like the last time I came to the office, she stood before I’d taken three steps, and crossed the hall with her tablet angled toward me.
“You look better than I expected,” she said.
“Thanks, I think.”
“Your color is good. When Brenna called and described the accident, I imagined worse.” She turned to Kodiak—as I silently reminded myself to call him—as he stepped off behind me. “Mr. Emeric. Your office is set up the same as before.”
“I appreciate it, Ms. Keene.”
He disappeared into the office next to mine without a word. Darla waited until he was gone, then faced me.
“Brad and Astrid are on their way up,” she said. “I figured you’d prefer everyone here before you touched the stack on your desk.”
The pile was a foot high, organized with colored tabs. She’d reduced five days of my absence to a system I could process by lunch. Darla ran my office so well that most people never realized how much she was carrying.
Brad arrived first. “Good to have you back. You okay?”
“I’m getting there. Thanks.”
Astrid came in thirty seconds later, carrying a new travel mug and a folder already open. “Emma. You look good.”
“That’s the second time someone’s said that in the last two minutes. I’m choosing to believe it.”
She smiled, and Brad dragged a chair to the small table by the window.
“All right,” I said. “Catch me up.”
Darla ran point. The FinCEN briefing I’d started before the accident still needed to be finalized by Friday. The House subcommittee’s deadline had moved up a week. Two interagency calls had been rescheduled and needed to go on the calendar again.
I triaged as she talked. “Push the interagency calls to next week. I’ll review the FinCEN materials tonight. What’s the subcommittee asking for?”
“Updated enforcement numbers through Q3,” Astrid said. “I have the data pulled. The formatting needs your sign-off before I send it. There’s also a provision in the draft language that references disbursement oversight, and I wasn’t sure how you wanted to frame our response.”
That one made me pause. Disbursement oversight was close to what I’d been investigating on my own, and the subcommittee asking about it was either a coincidence or very bad timing. “Send me the draft language. I’ll look at it before I talk to Naomi.”
“Already in your inbox,” she said.
Brad spoke up. “Darla flagged a data gap from last quarter. I pulled the supplemental reports and cross-referenced them, so the briefing package is current through September.”
“Thank you, both of you.”
Neither of them needed to be told what to do or how to do it. They’d kept the work moving while I was gone, and the fact that my absence hadn’t caused a crisis was a direct reflection of the team I’d built.
The meeting wrapped up in under fifteen minutes. Brad and Astrid left together, comparing notes before they’d made it to their offices.
Darla stayed. She shut the door and claimed the chair across from me. She transitioned from my chief of staff to the woman who’d known me since I was a kid.
“Have you seen your mother?”
I cringed. “Not yet.”
“She’s been calling me, Emma. Every day since the accident. Twice yesterday.”
“I know. I’m going to see her.”
“When?”
“Today. I promise.”
Darla paused a second longer than was comfortable. “She’s worried.”
“I know. It’s been…hectic.”
“Call your mama, sweet girl, and let her see you. If you don’t, she’ll camp outside your office tomorrow, and if I don’t let her, she’ll never forgive me. You wouldn’t risk being responsible for the end of a thirty-year friendship, would you?”
I almost laughed, because she was right. That was exactly what Sherry Sinclair would do.
“I’ll call her from the car.”
Darla stood and straightened her tablet against her hip. “Good. I told her you were coming in today. She’ll be expecting to hear from you.” She stopped at the threshold. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I.”
She left. Coleman was talking on the other side of the wall, but I couldn’t make out the words.
I spent the next two hours catching up. When I’d made enough of a dent to stop feeling guilty over the five days I’d missed, I knocked on Coleman’s door.
“I need to go see Naomi.”
He was on his feet before I finished the sentence.
We took the stairs to four because the elevator would mean running into people who would ask how I was feeling, and I’d hit my limit on that question. Coleman positioned himself in the hallway outside Naomi’s office.
She was at her desk. I knocked on the frame.
“Emma.” She removed her glasses. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I’m cleared for full duty.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” She set the glasses on the desk. “The Morrison follow-up—where does that stand?”
“Ongoing. The DOJ team is on-site, and I’ll be coordinating from my office.”
“Fine. I signed off on two items while you were out. I’m sure Darla has them ready for your review.”
“I’ll take care of it today.”
“Welcome back. And, full disclosure, I suggested Darla apply to be my chief of staff.”
I smirked. “And?”
Naomi laughed. “Based on your expression, you know she turned me down flat.”
“I didn’t know, but I’m not surprised.”
“She’s a gem, and loyalty like that isn’t given to someone unless they’re deserving of it.”
My cheeks flushed. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She put her glasses on again. “Glad you’re here, Emma.”
Coleman fell in beside me on the way to the stairs. “Good meeting?”
“She tried to steal Darla.”
“How’d that go?”
“About how you’d expect.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon making a dent in the pile on my desk, then hit a wall of exhaustion. When I told Coleman I needed to go to Georgetown, he grabbed his keys without asking why.
I called my mother from the car. She picked up before the first ring finished.
“I’m on my way to your house now,” I said. “I can be there in half an hour.”
“No. I want to see the townhouse.”
“Mom, there’s nothing to—”
“I’ve been hearing about the damage for days. I need to see it for myself. Meet me there.”
I hung up and stared at the windshield.
Coleman glanced at me. “What?”
“Something just occurred to me. How do I introduce you?”
“Easy. As your boyfriend.”
Coleman drove and didn’t comment on the fact that I couldn’t stop smiling.