Chapter Twenty
Alanna scanned the mess of paperwork on her desk and let her mind wander. FBI Headquarters in LA was a hybrid. Cases running everywhere, priorities differed, but her corner was quiet this morning. Go to the division’s operational area and not so much.
The paperwork from Mercer’s death never ended.
As authorities were notified, the requests for information increased.
She shared the office space with Drew Jade.
His desk sat opposite to hers and had an autographed baseball and a picture of his wife and child.
Hers had empty coffee cups from the coffee shop across the street.
She tested each one and threw them into the trash.
She needed a desk mat, new pens, and to clean out her briefcase, but she gazed at the child’s photo. Something about his face steadied her.
She’d always been convinced she wasn’t the kind to put non-work stuff on her desk, but Quaid had handed her a pink rose bud from his garden this morning. There was a small vase tucked in her briefcase when she got to work. Niles had been in on the gift. There it was. By her desk phone.
She stroked the petals, then shoved away from her desk and took the last round of paperwork down the hall to Ryker’s office. His door was open, his own desk double as bad as hers. She stood in the doorway and waited for him to acknowledge her.
“You all right?” Nick Ryker’s concern was killing her. She had a list of things to be grateful to him for, but the worry had to stop.
Ten days and he’d watched her like a hawk.
She was ready to get back into the field because this sitting in the office was on her last nerve.
She admitted she’d been shaky after she’d shot Mercer.
Confronting the complex mix of emotions over killing a human being was a day-to-day process.
It came with using a gun. Her only stability – Quaid and his experiences.
The drive to San Diego every night to spend time with him, though, was not working so well.
A decision time was coming. She’d told him six months together before they could talk about permanent, but she was changing her mind.
She was in a hard dilemma between the FBI and QM.
She loved both. And Whit’s complete recovery was leaving another decision point.
“I’m fine. Like I’ve told you five times a day since the shooting. Is there some reason you think I’m not?”
“Doing the boss thing.” He leaned back in his chair, white shirt stretched across his broad chest.
He’d fit at QM. She dismissed the idea. The man was die-hard FBI.
She stepped into the office and sat in the simple framed red visitor chair. The man didn’t have anything personal on his desk either, but behind it on the wall -- awards, diplomas, and accolades. “Well, you can stop. I have a proposal.”
“What kind?”
“How would you feel about making me a permanent liaison to QM? They have an unspecified number of missing persons cases, and they have a network for information that’s more nuanced than ours.”
He frowned. “This about Daniels?”
She couldn’t fudge the answer. “Yes. And no.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s no secret we’re involved.” Quaid hung around waiting for seven hours on the day of her shooting interviews.
Wouldn’t budge until she could leave with him.
He’d wrapped her in his jacket, kept his hands on her, and kissed her in the elevator.
That wasn’t partner behavior, and everybody in the building knew it.
“I’m still working on Serena Tenney. It might be a good test case without the assassination distraction and the political pressure. Plus, I need to get Whit sorted out. But I like this job and don’t want to leave. Help me out here.”
“I knew this Tenney thing would be a headache. There’s nothing there.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
His eyes hardened. “You holding out?”
“Not as such, but we’re tracking some rumors, trying to confirm Serena’s movements. Honestly, I’m searching for a dump site to put this to rest.”
He gave her an irritated frown. “Tread carefully. It’s been investigated by a full task force of investigators and finally turned over to cold case by the local police, then we reviewed it here.
Not me personally, but I read the conclusions.
Nothing there to find. Professional opinion, she’ll never be found. ”
“I don’t disagree. But a collaboration could benefit both QM and the FBI. Also, I have a doctor appointment for a hearing assessment and need to leave.”
“Go. And I’ll think about the collaboration thing. We don’t usually do that. Be careful. Lots of protected information here.”
“They have more to worry about than we do. Theirs is client confidentiality and private personal information, too, much of it governed by state laws. Ours is protected information governed by federal law. I’m always careful.”
“Thank you for schooling me on the differences in privacy laws. I had no idea.” His dry statement left her smiling.
“Watch your conduct, though.” His eyes showed confidence in her, but his voice was a caution she’d heed.
“If it ever becomes an issue with anyone about me and my association with QM, I’ll put my resignation on your desk. You only have to ask.”
“You won’t resign, and I won’t ask. Let’s make sure those conflict scenarios don’t happen. Personally, and I’ll deny I said this, QM does good work, and I have a lot of respect for the Q and the M of that business.”
“Me, too. And the dozens behind them.”
“Get out of here. Text me the outcome of your doctor visit.”
She paused when his phone rang.
He stared at the screen, made a face, and answered. “Walker. What’s up?”
Alanna’s eyes widened.
“You what?” He rose and grabbed his jacket, listening carefully. “We’ll be there. Might take an hour.” He tapped the off and slammed the phone on the desk.
“What?”
“San Diego PD found Mercer’s hide. A house.” His phone dinged.
“Address. You in?”
“Let me get my weapon and credentials. I’m in. Have they touched anything?”
“Yeah, a bit. At the moment, the bomb squad is there.”
Alanna couldn’t stop the exasperated swear word. “Of course. Why would it be easy? Where is it?”
“Suburbia San Diego. Where else?”
“Bastard.” She went for her gun and her phone.
She’d been hoping Mercer would slowly recede in the dark side of her memory. Apparently, that wasn’t today.
&&&&&&&&&&
Quaid listened to Elizabeth with half his attention musing on Alanna. They were at the conference table in the room adjacent to Operations. They’d never put the removable wall back as it gave them more space flexibility, and since they had the other building, they could afford to expand Operations.
“Quaid, I know you’re in love, but could you pay attention.” When she used her saccharine sweet tone, one needed to duck.
Love. What?
He sat straighter and stayed silent on the L subject. “I’m listening. Would you like me to recite what you said?” They were talking about the particulars for renovating the building next door.
Mac occupied the other seat and was leaned back with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands and his eyes half shut. The man had the capacity to nap while talking.
“I may have all the business end handled, but you are on the paperwork and legally responsible for everything I do.”
“Did my grandfather ever question what you wanted?”
“No. But he paid attention when I talked so he knew what I was doing.”
Mac drank the last of his coffee and set the mug on the table. “My only request on Building B is to keep the cargo loading space open for Close Quarter drills. It’s perfect and one of the best things we improvised.”
Elizabeth scoffed. “Building B? No. You are not allowed to name things, Mackey, but I’ll note your request. Let me repeat.
Do we want to leave space for more living area so we can keep more staff on site?
We’ve needed it with the serial killer case.
It offers them convenience and us more protection assets on site. ”
She actually sounded like an experienced operative.
Quaid shook off his distraction. Alanna usually text him or called him several times a day.
She hadn’t today. He wasn’t worried. She’d been cleared from the shooting, and with Tenney renewing, he knew she’d have time here to help them with the case.
But he was coming to hate this setup they had.
Every day the late afternoon call – driving home or staying in LA?
Am I coming to you or you to me? He stayed flexible, or at least he thought he did, but he wanted her home with him.
Not at the LA Patton overnight or on the road. But the solution was not simple.
He answered Elizabeth before she could shake a finger at him. “I’d say yes. How much space will the living quarters take?”
“We could take one floor and do fourteen units similar to 501 in this building.”
The Operations door opened. Cait came in with Hunt behind her. They skirted the Operations computer area and walked to the business table. At this point, Hunt had a permanent visitor’s pass. Nobody was telling the Navy.
Quaid signaled them to seats, but answered Elizabeth before she lost her cool. “I say do it. It’s a good perk, works for security, and we weren’t going to fill all the space in the building anyway.”
“Is that an authorization?”
“Yes. Where do I sign?”
“Nowhere. This is for the architect.”
“I’ll leave all that to you.”
“Then, we’re done here.” She rose from the table, gave Cait a brief hug, and went out the door with purpose in her steps.”
“Did you approve the new apartments?” Cait’s smug expression gave her away.
“You knew?”
She rubbed her hands together. “Oh yeah, she’s been antsy to get started.”
“I wish she’d tell me these things instead of making it so formal.”
“You should tell her.” She pulled out a chair and made herself comfortable.
“What are you two doing here?” Mac eyed Hunt like a gunfighter considering the competition.
Hunt eased into a chair next to Cait. “Alanna called me and wanted me to meet her here.”
Okay.
He barely suppressed his irritation.