Tessa shut and locked the door. Did that matter with a front window now wide open? Sighing, she turned off the potatoes. Dinner would have to wait. Quickly, she fed Hallie, her head spinning all the while. How the heck was she going to board up that window with dusk coming so quickly? Hell, she didn’t even own any tools. Wasn’t that what she had a landlord for?
Once Hallie seemed sated and had given her a good burp, Tessa set the infant in a jumper seat, quickly changed her shirt, then opened the door again to find Officer Mills. There he stood…along with the man who had been next on her list of people to call.
“Colonel Edgington. You’re here?”
He gave her a fatherly smile. “I know most of the guys at the station, and they know you work for me. Can we come in?”
“Of course.”
“While Mills asks you some questions, I’m going to figure out how to patch up the window.”
“Thank you so much.” Tessa would be forever grateful if he could figure out how to keep her safe tonight so she could get it repaired tomorrow.
The colonel patted her softly on the shoulder, then headed into the kitchen and down the hall, to the first bedroom on the left.
Ten minutes later, Mills had asked her all the questions he had and was apparently satisfied with her answers. “That’s all for now, Ms. Lawrence.”
“I appreciate y’all coming so quickly.”
He nodded, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I doubt the charges will stick. When I stepped outside so you could feed your daughter, one of the other officers told me your ex is the nephew of a city councilman.”
So the local wheels of justice were selective and the system was two-tiered. Tessa closed her eyes against rising defeat. “So he’ll be out by tomorrow?”
“If they lock him up at all.”
Just then, Tessa glanced across the open space to see the colonel standing there, listening. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you out. I’ve got an idea.”
Zy sat on the stiff sofa of his budget, all-suites motel off the side of the freeway, absently watching a college basketball game and grimacing at the scent of leftover Chinese takeout when his phone rang.
He lifted the device. The colonel. He should have guessed, since Trees had already called about thirty minutes ago. Those were the only two people who called with any regularity these days. What did that say about his social life?
With a sigh, he answered. “Evening, sir. I’m fine. No more effects from the concussion, and the stitches are healing up.”
“Good to hear, but that’s not why I’m calling. I—”
“Wait. Before we move on, I’ve had dozens of hours to sit alone and replay that mission in my mind. I have some questions.”
“All right. Hit me.”
“Everything seemed right on schedule, and then suddenly it wasn’t. I don’t know how Emilo Montilla and his thugs figured out they weren’t alone or knew exactly where to find us, but that mission went south for a reason.”
The colonel sighed. “I’d like that answer, too. It was a shit show, despite the fact none of you did anything to compromise it. But now Walker is seething at Bryant for yanking him out and aborting the whole thing. Trees was a wreck for two days. And until your banged-up body heals, I’m short an operator. But the only explanation that makes sense is they had eyes somewhere we couldn’t see.”
Zy didn’t like it, but Edgington was right. In the dusty town they’d had to skirt to reach their compound? Along the long, bumpy dirt road to their hideaway? Any of that was possible. He just didn’t like not knowing.
Twenty minutes later, Zy was out the door, speeding on his black Ninja through the inky night toward the address Edgington had given him. But beyond telling him to pack up and check out of his motel, the man had been short on details.
The ride through the chilly, humid night revived him and cleared the last of a nagging headache. Yeah, he hadn’t been completely honest about the injuries he’d sustained in Mexico not bothering him anymore. But they didn’t bother him enough to bitch, and he’d be damned if throbbing temples and a few stitches were going to keep him from returning to action. This sitting-around shit bored the hell out of him.
He pulled into a working-class neighborhood and stopped in front of a traditional brick building with two doors, one on either side of the structure. He parked his bike at the curb, hopped off, secured his helmet, and headed up the long, concrete driveway.
The colonel met him halfway, hand outstretched. “Thanks for coming so quickly. You look way better than the last time I saw you.”
Which had been as he was getting discharged from two days in the hospital. “I feel better, sir. Mind filling me in?”
“Come with me. It will make more sense once you see the situation.”
Whatever. Edgington was the boss, and he was trusting him with this assignment. “Should I grab my gear?”
He scanned the street. “It should be fine for now. Come in and see if you think you can handle this.”
Handle it? “Sir, I’m trained to handle most anything. You wouldn’t have hired me if I wasn’t.”
“This is…different.”
When the colonel turned away and headed up the walk along the left side of the house, Zy followed, wondering where the hell he was and what the hell was going on. Halfway up the path, he saw a busted-out window with a big sheet of plywood propped up beneath it. Zy studied it as he continued following his boss to the door.
After a perfunctory knock, he let himself in. “He’s here.”
“Thank you,” a soft female voice with a hint of a Southern accent said from just inside the duplex.
The colonel entered, then turned to motion him inside.
Zy followed, stepping over the threshold onto a little tile foyer that immediately gave way to a great room with white walls and high ceilings. An oatmeal-colored sofa, a pair of soft gray chairs, accented by a multitude of decorative pillows and a TV mounted to the wall gave the place a homey vibe. But what caught his attention was the young blonde looking as if she held herself together by a thread. The sight of her, bare-faced and tense, was a gut punch as his heart banged against his ribs.
“Tessa?”
She blinked in surprise, nodding as she looked Edgington’s way with a question in her wide green eyes. “Yes. How did you—”
“Your pictures at the office.”
That didn’t sound too creepy, dude. Way to go…
In her photos, she’d been perfectly made up and smiling. And he’d thought she was gorgeous. Now, she looked real and vulnerable, with her hair piled on her head and cheeks pink—and damn if she wasn’t somehow still beautiful to him. Even dressed in sweats when she was obviously sleep deprived, Zy felt himself staring like a fidiot.
“Ah.” She sent a welcoming smile. “You must be the new operative. Chase Garrett, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Call him Zyron,” the colonel cut in with a laugh.
“Or just Zy.”
Tessa sent him a confused frown.
“Stupid nickname. Long story,” he explained.
“Zy, sure. Um, come in. Sit down.”
“We’ll explain the situation,” Edgington assured in answer to his unspoken question.