Chapter 9
When the door slid open, Grant stepped out first. “Coast is clear.”
Avery joined him. Together, they walked to their room on the north end of the hallway.
Grant touched the key card to the reader. A green light flashed. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. “After you,” he said and stepped back.
Avery entered with her bags of clothing and set them down on the dresser. “You can have the shower first. I want to sort through these bags.”
Grant dropped his go-bag on the bed. “Do you want to call Swede first and get him looking for some of the numbers to your informants?”
“Yes,” she said.
Grant pulled up the number and called using the video function.
Moments later, the big, blond giant of a man appeared on the screen, looking like his Viking ancestors.
“Swede, say hello to Agent Avery Hart.” Grant leaned close to Avery and pointed the phone’s camera at her.
Avery gave a hint of a smile. “Nice to meet you, Swede.”
“Same to you, Agent Hart.”
“Please, call me Avery,” she said.
“Avery,” Swede said with a nod. “I dug through the database from the Division of Children and Family Services of Nebraska and matched it to your parents’ adoption records.”
Avery’s body stiffened beside Grant.
He slipped his arm around her, holding her gently.
“Go ahead,” Avery said.
“The records show a Jane Doe and her infant daughter were delivered by ambulance to the University of Nebraska Medical Center after an automobile accident. The woman had no form of identification, and it was reported that her vehicle had exploded and burned. The mother and child were treated for smoke inhalation. Shortly after being admitted, the mother disappeared, leaving behind her baby girl. The only form of identification was the necklace found around the baby’s neck with the letter A engraved on the pendant. ”
Her face pale, Avery moved a hand to the necklace she’d always worn since Grant had known her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Hart were on the waiting list to foster a child and answered the call to collect the baby, which they did. After a year, the courts allowed the foster parents to adopt the baby. They named her Avery Hart.”
Avery blew out a breath she’d probably been holding.
“So, my biological mother walked out of the hospital, leaving her child in the care of strangers. I was lucky enough to land with great parents who wanted me. I was loved and cared for. What more could I ask for? For that matter, maybe that’s all my biological mother wanted for me. ”
“I did a comparison with Bree Lansing’s abandonment history,” Swede continued.
“Baby B was left at the Kansas City hospital a few hours before Baby A was brought to the Omaha hospital in the ambulance, giving the mother enough time to drive that far north before being involved in the vehicular accident.”
Grant didn’t need more evidence to conclude the two women were twins. But Avery might. “You could do a DNA test to compare with the one Bree took,” he suggested.
“Maybe someday.” Avery shook her head and squared her shoulders.
“After we nail the killer. Swede, I need to contact some of my informants, but their numbers were on the phone I lost when my car was swept away in the flash flood. If I give you some names, can you search the dark web for a way to contact them?” She grimaced.
“It would have to be on the down low. I don’t want to blow their cover, and they might be using other aliases. Is it even possible to find them?”
Swede shrugged his broad shoulders. “I can try.”
Avery gave Swede the names. “If you can’t locate them, see if you can find any chatter about the downfall of the Miami Elite Crime syndicate. Is anyone plotting revenge or retribution on the feds involved in Operation Orchid?”
“I’ll get on it,” Swede promised. “Grant, do you need reinforcements? Hank is worried Ms. Lansing might need a protector until the killer is found.”
Grant glanced toward Avery.
Avery shrugged. “I doubt she’d accept the offer. We can ask her in the morning.”
“We’ll get back to you on that,” Grant said.
“If that’s all you need for now, I’m out here,” Swede said.
“Out here,” Grant responded.
Swede’s image disappeared, replaced by a black screen.
Grant laid his phone on the dresser and dug in his go-bag for clean boxer briefs. “While I’m in the shower, I’ll leave the door ajar to listen for noises. You know the drill.”
She nodded. “Don’t open the door for anyone until you’re out of the shower.
He handed her his gun. “Anyone tries to break the door down, don’t hesitate to shoot.”
She palmed the gun, her lips twisting. “I think I can manage.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “I know. You’ve always been a better shot than I am with a handgun.”
“And you were better with a rifle.” She leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Go. Get your shower. I’ll hold down the fort.”
He nodded and ducked into the bathroom. When he closed the door, he left enough of a gap to allow noises to reach him. And if she wanted to peek inside, he had no problem with a little voyeurism from his ex. His naked body wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before.
His groin tightened as he recalled the number of times they’d showered together, making love in the spray. The water always cooled before their passion.
Grant turned on the water, adjusted the temperature and stripped out of his clothes. In the back of his mind...hell, in the back, front and side of his thoughts, he imagined Avery pushing through the door, without a stitch of clothing on and stepping into the shower with him.
He paused, half-expecting, half-wishing for that exact scenario. After a full five seconds passed with no movement at the door, he shook his head and stepped beneath the spray.
Who was he kidding? She’d asked for the divorce and had willingly signed the papers. If he was anything to her, he was a friend, not a husband or lover. That chapter of his life was over.
The memories of her naked body pressed to his beneath the shower’s spray persisted to the point he turned the heat down and stood beneath cold water, willing away his erection.
When he was relatively in control again—aka shivering—he shut off the water, dried off and pulled on the boxer briefs.
For a moment, he considered walking out in only that, but out of respect for their state of divorce, he stepped into his jeans and zipped them.
As much as he wanted to go back to a point in time where they were still married and had that ease of being together, they weren’t married, and they were still awkward together.
Or, at least, he was. His natural instinct was to touch her, to put his arms around her and kiss her when she was scared, sad, mad. ..hell, whenever he wanted.
With a sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom.
The first thing he saw was the neat piles of Avery’s new clothes laid out on the dresser.
He found Avery carrying a pillow to the single chair in the corner of the room where a blanket lay folded neatly on the seat.
“What are you doing?”
“I only need one pillow,” she said. “I found an extra blanket in the closet.”
Grant frowned, “You don’t plan on sleeping there, do you?”
She laid the pillow on top of the blanket and faced him. “That’s my plan.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“You’re not sleeping in a chair.”
Avery crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“I’m not your boss, but I am reasonable.” He tipped his head toward the bathroom. “Get your shower. I’ll sleep in the chair. You can have the bed.”
“I’m smaller,” she argued. “I fit better in the chair than you.”
“And you’re barely recovered from a concussion that resulted in a coma.”
“A short coma.”
“But a coma, nonetheless.” He sighed. “Please, take the bed. I can sleep in the chair or on the floor.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Avery said. “You can’t sleep sitting up or lying on a cold, hard floor.”
“I can, and you will sleep in the bed.” He raised his hand to stem her next flow of words. “It’s not up for discussion.”
Her jaw tightened stubbornly. “If you sleep on the floor, I will, too.” She lifted her chin and then lowered it, her face softening.
“Look, the bed is large enough to accommodate both of us. I promise not to touch you. We both need sleep so that in the morning we’re clear-headed and ready to tackle this case.
Just go with this minor inconvenience this one night. Tomorrow, we’ll get another room.”
Sleep with Avery?
In what universe would he sleep with the woman he loved lying in bed beside him? So close and yet so far. Sleep would be the furthest thing from his mind.
Despite the absurdity of it all, he found himself caving.
At least he could let her fall asleep first. Then he could move to the chair or the floor.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to argue about getting another room.
He refused to leave her alone and unprotected with a killer at large.
Separate rooms were out of the question.
“Okay,” he relented. “Go now. Get your shower.”
Avery’s eyes narrowed. “You’re giving up so quickly?”
He forced a shrug. “If it will get you to sleep sooner, I’m all in.”
She stared at him a moment longer before she drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “All right then, I’ll only be a few minutes.” Avery disappeared into the bathroom. Like him, she left the door slightly ajar.
It took all of Grant’s willpower to turn his back on the gap. Every fiber of his being urged him to push the door open and join her in the shower.
But he wouldn’t.
Unless she asked him to join her.
And she wouldn’t. When she’d signed the divorce documents, she’d made it clear they were done.
For the first year after she’d ended their marriage, he’d told himself she’d done it to protect him.
That she really did love him still. After two years and hearing that the operation had been a success, he’d finally resigned himself.
If she’d still loved him, she would have contacted him upon emerging from her deep undercover operation.