Blown Away. Elle James
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to the next street and turned left without slowing or signaling. Once around the corner, she searched for a side street and darted down one with cars parked along the side. Cutting her headlights, she downshifted to slow her car without using the breaks, sliding into a spot behind another car against the curb. Before the headlights appeared, she’d killed the engine.
She ducked low in her seat and waited. Less than a minute went by and the headlights moved slowly along the other street, passing the one she’d turned on.
Even after the car passed, TJ remained where she was, her heart pounding in her ears. How long should she wait? Was she being paranoid?
Headlights appeared at the end of the street in front of her and TJ’s heart skipped a beat. Crud. Maybe she wasn’t just paranoid. Maybe someone was following her.
TJ sank lower in her seat as the car drifted by. Unable to see over the top of the dash or the side of the door, she held her breath as the sound of an automobile engine passed. It did pass, and shortly after, TJ eased her head up. The car was gone and the street was empty of any oncoming traffic.
Turning the key in the ignition, TJ almost had a heart attack when the little car wouldn’t start. On a second twist of the key, the engine sprang to life. The rest of her trip to her apartment remained blessedly uneventful.
Outside her apartment door, her hands shook as she jammed the key into the lock. She’d glanced over her shoulder at least ten times before her apartment door opened, expecting the eerie headlights to reappear on the street or a bogeyman to jump out of the bushes at any minute.
Once inside, she slammed her door shut and slid the bolt home. That wasn’t enough. A quick trip through the two bedrooms, kitchen and living space finally set her mind at ease. No one had come into her apartment while she’d been at work. A quick glance out the darkened windows confirmed no one lurked in the street.
A shaky laugh escaped her and she collapsed onto the couch, dropping her head into her hands. Sean’s reappearance had shaken her more than she cared to admit.
She forced a laugh, then almost choked on it when headlights shone through the filmy curtains of her living-room window. A car cruised by on her street like a snake sliding through the grass in search of its next meal.
Chapter Five
“Learning anything?” Royce stopped by Sean’s desk shortly after midnight.
“Don’t you ever go home?” Sean asked.
“Since home is upstairs, I’m always at home.”
“Let me rephrase. Don’t you ever leave the office?”
Royce shrugged. “Slow television night.” Sean knew Royce used to have a family. A wife and a son. The wife died in an auto accident and the son disappeared his second year at Georgetown University. With no one expecting him, he didn’t really have a home to go to.
Sean understood not having a home or someone awaiting his return. For a short time he’d dreamed of TJ filling that role.
“Anyone else working?” Royce glanced over the tops of the cubicles the agents used when they worked in the office. Mostly, they operated in the field.
“The last time I checked, Tim was back in his corner hacking away at the bank account the CIA traced to the terrorist in Dindi.”
“Any leads?”
“Not yet.” So far, Tim hadn’t been able to get past the bank’s firewall. Even when they did break in, the chances of the account pointing to an individual were slim, which meant additional digging into shell corporations.
“What about the legislative assistant who was with Haddock in Dindi, TJ Barton? Have you run into her? Any chance of getting close to her?”
Sean stiffened. At one time they’d been close. But that wasn’t what Royce meant. “Yes, I’ve run into her. She’s in Haddock’s old office, two doors down from mine.” He hadn’t told Royce anything about his previous life with TJ.
“Did she recognize you?”
“Yes. I had to tell her I was working undercover.”
“Couldn’t lie your way out of it?”
Sean shook his head. “No, she’s former FBI and too smart for the lies.” He hadn’t told Royce why TJ had been the only one of her party who’d escaped injury.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Royce dropped into the chair beside Sean’s desk. “If it has anything to do with this case, spill it.”
Royce gave him the opening. Why did he find it so difficult to talk about what happened between him and TJ? He’d misplaced his focus in Dindi, he didn’t want to risk losing this assignment because Royce lost faith in his objectivity. Honesty won out. “There’s something you ought to know about what happened in Dindi.”
“You mean more than what you’ve already told me?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. How did he tell Royce he’d fallen for a stranger in less than two weeks? Hell, in less than two hours. He’d traveled all over the world with the Army Special Forces and then again with S.O.S. And in a small country in Africa, he’d found TJ. What were the odds?
“Is this about the affair you had with Haddock’s assistant?” Royce asked.
Sean’s gaze snapped to Royce. “How did you know?”
A sad smile tipped the corners of the older man’s mouth. “Marty told me about her the morning he died.” Royce’s lips tightened into a thin line. “He was glad to see you falling hard after all the ribbing you gave him about marrying Kat.”
Sean nodded, remembering. “I did give him hell. Felt like I was losing my best friend.”
Royce stared at a snapshot hanging on the wall of Sean, Marty and Kat on mountain bikes in the North Carolina hills. “You didn’t lose a brother in Marty, you gained a sister in Kat.”
“I did lose him in the end.”
“And you’re blaming your relationship with the Barton woman on it, aren’t you?”
Sean pounded his fist on the desk. “Yes.” He rolled back from his desk and stood. “If I hadn’t been playing around—”
“You’d be dead, too.” Royce stood. “Not only would Kat have lost her husband, she’d have lost her friend. You’ve been the only one keeping her from falling apart. None of us are as close to her as you are. She needs you. Face it. You weren’t meant to die.” Royce laid a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your time.”
“And it was Marty’s?” He shook loose of Royce’s hand, anger burning a hole in his gut.
“Yes, damn it.” Royce crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I cared for Marty as much as anyone, and I never wished bad things to happen, but his number was up.” With his feet braced apart and his eyes blazing, Royce had only just begun his tirade. “You didn’t die in that attack for a reason. And that reason was to find out what really happened. Are you going to pull your head out of feeling sorry for yourself long enough to accomplish your mission? Or do I need to find a replacement with a better perspective?”
Hands clenched into fists. Sean wanted to strike out, hit someone. The anger he’d fed off for the past month boiled up and threatened to overflow into action. Royce’s words struck him like a blow and he wanted to hit back. But Royce Fontaine was his friend, not the enemy. Not the person responsible for the deaths of Congressman Haddock, Marty Sikes and many others. Someone else had ordered that attack.
“Are you on the case?” Royce asked.
Sean straightened his shoulders, drawing on his years of military service and ability to work under extreme pressure. “I’m on.”
“Then stop beating yourself up.”
Sean’s