Chapter 18
Austin
“What the fuck, Winchester, you going soft on me?” Ryan barely let Grannie’s door close behind us before he ripped me a new asshole.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath without breaking stride.
“I told you, Nina working for my aunt complicates things. Why’d you go all supreme dickhead and make things worse?” My voice wasn’t any calmer than his.
“We’ve taken too many risks to let your family fuck things up.”
“They won’t.” We crossed the street and passed our boring black van out of habit. Never let them see you get into your vehicle. “Christ, just… let me handle them.”
As much as I hated to admit it, if things went south, as they so often did, we might benefit from SSI’s experience and capabilities.
Especially Doug’s.
Doug Sharpe. US Air Force tech wizard, civilian tech support at Chicago PD, willing to seek forgiveness rather than ask questions, engaged to Beth Wyatt.
Beth Wyatt. Widow with an eight-year-old son, Chase, manager at Grannie’s. John and Mary are Chase’s godparents.
What a fucking clusterfuck.
“Who will they tell?”
“You heard them; they won’t tell anyone yet.”
He scoffed.
“They won’t. And when we give them permission, we can trust that Mary won’t put me in danger by revealing my secrets, and Maxwell is a Marine and former FBI, she won’t sell us out.”
Maxwell had hyphenated her last name after she got married, but still went by Maxwell professionally. It made sense; she worked with five other Sheppards.
The fifth being Jack’s wife, Meg, formally Hayes, formerly Graham.
Sex trafficking survivor from Boston who testified against a mob boss who trafficked her.
Changed her name and moved with FBI’s help but never entered WITSEC.
Worked at Grannie’s before John recruited her at SSI.
Mother to John and Mary’s first grandchild.
“Will he tell his other sons?” Gibson asked.
“Not without talking to me.” I hoped it was the truth. Secrets had a way of climbing out of the dark if too many people knew.
No Sheppard would intentionally out me, but one wrong word spoken carelessly could create a cascading effect that revealed my role in the CIA and put my case in jeopardy.
“Good. We don’t need any more complications.”
“Agreed.”
We circled back, making sure no one was watching as we climbed into the van.
As Gibson drove us back to Dallas, I entered notes from our meetings.
My eye twitched as I typed: John and Jaden Sheppard are aware of my CIA connection. Trusted persons with clean backgrounds and proven track records. Wives won’t be informed, yet. Mary Sheppard and Catelyn Maxwell-Sheppard: also trusted.
“Pizza or sandwiches?” Gibson asked. We couldn’t have food delivered to the office, so we’d pick up food on our way back.
I’d only had the one family meal since arriving in Texas, but I still missed Roni’s home cooking.
“Or burgers and fries?” he suggested when I didn’t choose.
“Mexican?” I countered. I could get a burrito bowl and load it with vegetables and guacamole. It wasn’t healthy, but it was healthier, and better than another meal of greasy fast food.
“Mexican it is.”
My brain ignored the radio and filled the time with thoughts of and questions about Nina.
Despite all my training, my mind wanted to think about her beautiful blue eyes and what it’d be like to grab a fist full of those wavy curls and pull her head back to expose her neck to my lips.
A deep desire to protect her roared its way through my body.
Logical Austin spoke up. To solve your case, you’ll have to embrace your inner robot.
I leaned my head back against the headrest. Being cold and calculated towards Nina would kill me, but I could do it.
Carefully, slowly, and with great compassion, I’d fill in the blanks of Nina Singer’s life. Her legal name is Novak.
The desperation in Nina’s voice, the hope in her eyes, and the fear in her trembling hand as she held the photo of her biological parents had filled the small breakroom and cracked my protective armor.
You can’t. You won’t.
Feelings were a liability in my line of work.
Feelings for a person of interest in an ongoing case were dangerous.
Catching feelings for a POI, with connections to your family in a case involving corrupt CIA officers was a fucking death sentence.
I convinced myself that my obsession with Nina wasn’t me catching feelings. I also told myself that I could erase all thoughts of Nina as a person, rather than a case number, from my mind.
Who am I kidding? Nina lived rent free in my mind, and it’d take a miracle to change that reality.
“You good?”
“I’m fine, why?”
“Because, Winchester, your knuckles are white and your breathing is erratic.”
Fuck.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too observant?” I forced a laugh while changing the subject.
“All the fucking time. What’s got you freaked?”
“Family shit.”
“This is gonna get ugly, isn’t it?”
“I don’t see how it can’t.”
I couldn’t shake the need to protect Nina. John and the SSI team would feel the same. Hell, I’d put money on them already assigning her a detail.
“Doing my job means lying to my family, and that’s going to piss them off.”
“What should I expect?”
“Expect SSI to research Nina’s background.”
“Any chance you can stop them?”
“What do you think?”
He laughed. One meeting was all it took for the average person to size up John Sheppard. Ryan Gibson was anything but average. Exceptional comes to mind. He’d sized John up before a word was spoken.
John Sheppard. Marine. Parker County Detective, retired. Started Sheppard & Sons Investigations with Jamie and Jack after Jamie’s first wife was murdered. Married with four kids and three grandchildren.
“I think this case just took FUBAR to the next level.”
He wasn’t wrong. The case was fucked up from the beginning, but now it was one-hundred percent fucked up beyond all recognition.
“Are you ready for the challenge?”
“Always.” He turned toward me. “Are you?”
If he’d asked before I’d realized the curvy, coffee spilling woman from Madi’s party was the key to my current cases, my answer would be a resounding yes.
Everything’s different now. My worlds had collided, and the fallout would claim more than one victim.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, understanding what I hadn’t said.
“Fuck is right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and listed the states from Z to A to clear my mind.