Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Michelle sat at the dining room table, the story in her head coming out as she typed.
Every now and then, she looked at the clock.
It was nearly midnight. She didn’t know where Fletch and Leo were.
They’d left after six p.m., before she’d been able to tell him Peterson’s news about Sarah.
There was too much happening with the possible connection to Arron Nelson.
Unlike their cross-country drive, the agents flew to East Texas via an agency plane.
What Michelle imagined was happening fifteen hundred miles away was the thing of spy thrillers.
While part of her wanted to accompany them, Michelle knew her strengths didn’t lie in on-the-ground reconnaissance.
That was Fletch’s strength or one of them.
She let her mind go back to her story. It was about an author who found herself living an unbelievable chain of events.
As in all Michelle’s stories, there was a love interest. Handsome and dangerous, he was a man the heroine would never imagine having in her life, but Michelle knew by the end of the story, they’d be together.
She was writing their first meeting. It was easy to describe her character’s reaction because she was describing her own feelings the first time she encountered Fletch.
Michelle shivered, recalling the frigid air, the ache in her feet, and the blazing flames.
After she finished writing the scene, she saved and closed her manuscript. Telling the story felt cleansing and cathartic. Remembering the sheer terror of that night was too much, especially with Fletch out on a mission.
She settled in the large cool bed and was almost asleep when she heard the door to the apartment open. Her mind told her it was Fletch. She was safe in the complex. No one would hurt her. At the same time, her body trembled, reliving the horrors of the night her father died.
Her focus went to the bedroom door, mostly closed but not completely. There was someone out there. Staring, she waited for Fletch to enter the bedroom.
As more time passed, Michelle’s alarm intensified. She quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the closet. Instead of on a high shelf, her gun safe was on the floor, tucked in a corner near Fletch’s boots.
Careful to not make a noise, she opened the small safe and removed her Sig Sauer. She checked the magazine. It was already loaded. Unfastening the safety, she waited.
Would whoever was out in the rest of the apartment come looking for her?
Or she wondered if it would be better for her to find them.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Michelle made the decision that she had survived the scene she just wrote. She survived more than the initial trauma. She wasn’t going to get taken out in her sleep.
Step by step, she moved toward the bedroom door. The Sig Sauer was lighter than Fletch’s Glock. Her earlier trembling was gone, replaced with determination. Light spilled from below the door to Fletch’s office. Michelle was certain it wasn’t on when she went to bed.
“It’s just Fletch,” she told herself on repeat. The gun was still in her grasp, her finger on the trigger guard. She pushed open the door to his office.
“Shelly.”
Michelle lowered the gun at the familiar light-green stare. “What are you doing in here?”
“I didn’t realize you were living with Arrow,” Peterson said, sitting behind the computer she used in this room.
She kept the gun at her side. He was lying. “You came here to see me after the press conference in Indianapolis.”
Peterson stood. His smile seemed forced. “You’re right. I must have forgotten. I apologize if I woke you. I obviously wasn’t thinking. You see, I was looking for the hard drive you’ve been working on.”
“Why?”
He motioned to the living room. “We should talk.”
There was that same tone, the one that expected obedience.
Michelle was done with loyal obedience. “It’s the middle of the night. We can talk tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Does this have anything to do with Fletch and Leo’s mission?” she asked.
“It does.” Peterson looked around the room. “If you will give me the hard drive, I’ll be on my way.”
“Fletch had it.”
Peterson’s voice hardened. “He didn’t have it. Leo didn’t have it. It’s not in the complex computer lab. That only leaves here.”
This wasn’t right. The small hairs on the back of Michelle’s neck stood to attention. She took a step backward. “I think you should leave.”
“Shelly, Arrow and Leo encountered a problem.”
Her breathing hitched. “Are they all right?”
He shook his head. “They encountered security at the target’s residence. There was an exchange of gunfire.”
“At Arron Nelson’s house? Was Fletch shot?” She could hardly form the words.
Peterson’s smile disintegrated as he pulled a gun from behind his back. “I wish you didn’t know that name, Shelly.” He took a step closer. “Give me your gun.”
“You’re telling me Fletch is dead?” In her heart of hearts, Michelle knew that wasn’t true. They were connected, bonded in flames. If he were dead, she’d know it. She would feel it, the way she felt the loss when her father died.
“Give me your gun.”
“You’re working for Arron Nelson,” she said. It was the perfect plot twist, one she wished she’d have realized a minute earlier.
Peterson took another step toward her.
Michelle lifted her gun. “That’s how Arron Nelson avoided arrest during the takedown of Crossroads. You’re on his payroll. You allow the little people to be found to make the agency appear effective.”
“We do good work. Your father and mother did good work.”
Peterson’s finger moved, but Michelle’s finger was already on the trigger.
He cursed, his shot whizzing by Michelle’s body, striking, and splintering the door.
Her blast sent Peterson backward. He tripped and fell over a desk chair as the bangs ricocheted throughout the apartment. She ran forward and kicked his gun out of his reach. Her shot hit his right shoulder in time to throw off his shot.
“Fucking bitch,” he screamed, his hand covering the bleeding wound.
Her gun was pointed at his chest. “Where’s Fletch?”
“I told you. Now get help.”
Michelle’s voice calmed, too calm. “Tell me where the hell Fletch is, and I won’t shoot you again.”
“I haven’t heard from them.”
“You alerted Nelson that they were on their way.” When he didn’t answer, she moved her finger from the guard to the trigger.
“Yes. Nelson’s people were waiting for them.”
Peterson hadn’t heard from Fletch or Leo.
That meant that maybe things didn’t go down the way he planned.
Michelle could kill Peterson, but if she did that, he wouldn’t pay for his traitorous acts.
Instead, she searched him for more weapons, removing belongings from his pockets.
He squirmed but was obviously feeling the loss of blood.
She pulled an extension cord from an outlet and disconnected the plug on the other end.
He continued to curse and fight, as she secured his hands together.
A length of duct tape shut lips and quieted his threats so she could think.
Who could she call?
Who else in the agency was dirty?
She only knew one other person.