Deadly Contact. Lara LacombeЧитать онлайн книгу.
melted chocolate. “You’re not in trouble.”
“I know,” she said, her voice ringing with a confidence she didn’t feel.
He didn’t bother to mask the sarcasm in his tone. “Right. That’s why I can practically hear you worrying.”
She dropped the act with a sigh. “Can you blame me? I’ve never been questioned by the authorities before, and you’ve got the cloak-and-dagger act going on.”
“Fair enough. It’s just easier to explain everything back at headquarters, so you don’t have to repeat yourself over and over again to the different members of the team.” His voice was deep and soothing, and she let the comforting words wash over her. She wanted so badly to touch him, to apologize with her body for the hurt she’d caused him. Even now, after messing things up so badly, he was still kind to her. Her stomach sank as she realized once again what a good guy he was and what a huge mistake she’d made when she’d left and turned her back on him.
He pulled into a parking space and cut the engine, then turned to face her. She refused to look at him, not wanting him to see the guilt and regret she was sure were written on her face. “We’re here,” he said softly.
He unbuckled his seat belt and moved to get out of the car, but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “James,” she began, then paused to swallow the lump in her throat. “I never meant to hurt you,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to lie,” he said softly. “Waking up to find you leaving was a disappointment. But...” He drifted off, staring out the windshield as if fascinated by the sight of the other parked cars. “But I think I know why you did it.”
She nodded, not wanting to correct whatever assumptions he’d made about her motivations for leaving. She wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him, and she especially didn’t want to tell him about Gary while sitting in a car in the FBI parking garage.
“Is there anything you want to tell me before we go in, Kelly? Anything at all?”
His tone was resigned, as if he knew he was about to hear bad news. What was going on?
“No,” she said, frowning at him. “What’s this about, James? I thought you said I wasn’t in any trouble.”
He sighed, the sound of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You’re not. Come on. Let’s go. They’re waiting for us.”
* * *
James climbed out of the car and took his time adjusting his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the wrinkles out and reaching up to straighten his tie. Seeing her again had thrown him for a loop, and he needed to get his equilibrium back.
He’d been angry after she’d left, the sting of rejection quickly piercing the morning-after glow. He had thought their encounter was something special, the beginning of something new and exciting, but she clearly hadn’t felt the same way. It hurt to know she hadn’t cared about him the way he had about her, but more than that, he missed her friendship. He’d thought he was over it by now, but seeing her again had brought all those feelings rushing back.
It seemed his heart didn’t care that she might be involved with terrorists.
The sound of the car door slamming behind him shook him from his musings, and he turned to find Kelly standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, her eyes on the ground. A lock of auburn hair had slipped from her ponytail, making him want to push it behind her ear to keep it out of her face. Despite the brave front she tried to present, she looked so small and scared standing there alone. An ember of protectiveness flared to life inside his chest, along with the urge to tuck her against his side and comfort her with a hug. He squashed the desire like he would an invading bug—he had a job to do, and he had neither the energy nor the time to worry about what she was feeling. He’d made that mistake before.
“This way, Dr. Jarvis.” He gestured with his arm as he rounded the front of the car, indicating the bank of elevators to the far right. She waited for him to reach her side before falling into step with him. They walked to the elevators in silence, the only sound the echo of their footsteps in the garage. James fished his ID badge out of his jacket pocket, scanned it in front of the card reader and pushed the button to call the elevator.
While they waited, he glanced at Kelly out of the corner of his eye. She stood ramrod straight, her shoulders set and her jaw clenched. It seemed his earlier reassurances in the car hadn’t relaxed her for long.
“There’s no need to worry,” he said, turning to look at her fully. She glanced up at him, brows drawn together in a slight frown. Again he felt the urge to comfort her, to reach up and run his finger over the wrinkle between her eyebrows, to smooth away the line. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets with a bit more force than necessary.
“I can’t help it,” she said a little sheepishly. “I’m a worrier—it’s what I do.”
They stepped onto the empty elevator car in unison, and he swiped his badge again before pressing the button for the eighth floor. “We’re just going to ask you some questions as part of our investigation. You’re not under any suspicion, and this isn’t going to be an interrogation.”
“No bright lamps shined into my face and a ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine, then?” she asked with a weak smile.
He appreciated her attempt at humor in the face of her fear. “You watch too much TV,” he replied and was rewarded with a quick grin before her lips returned to a thin line.
“Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me,” she admitted, her voice trailing off as the elevator doors opened and he guided her out of the car.
She hesitated, seemingly taken aback by the activity in front of her. The floor had an open configuration, making it one large room with the desks arranged in rows, forming a maze of sorts. The space buzzed with life as agents spoke on the phone, typed or moved about the room. Afternoon light streamed in from the wall of windows on the right, while the left wall was dominated by a map of the greater D.C. area and posters of the FBI’s most wanted.
James directed Kelly to the back of the room, walking her through the maze of desks and agents. Her head swiveled from side to side as they moved, and he could tell she was taking it all in. For the most part, the agents ignored them, a few raising their hands in a wave or acknowledging him with a quick nod. He returned their greetings with a nod of his own and steered Kelly into one of the conference rooms lining the back wall.
“Have a seat.” He pulled out a chair and she sat down, folding her hands and placing them on the table.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Do you have Coke? I could use the caffeine.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.” He walked out of the room and turned right, snagging a Coke from the group fridge in the corner of the room. On his way back to the conference room, he stopped at Kevin Carmichael’s office and rapped on the door.
“Yeah?”
James stuck his head in and found his boss behind his desk, jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled up, wearing a sour expression, as if he had just taken a sip of bad coffee. His salt-and-pepper hair stuck out in multiple directions, and he was even now reaching up to run his hand through it for what had to be the millionth time today.
“Dr. Jarvis is here,” he said, and Kevin’s expression morphed from disgusted to pleased.
“Excellent,” he said, standing up and rolling his sleeves out. “She’s in the conference room?”
“Yes. She’s a little nervous, too,” James added.
Kevin paused in the act of putting on his jacket. “Why do you think that is?” he asked, slowly sliding the suit coat into place. “Think she has something to hide?”
James shook his head. Although he wasn’t convinced she was completely innocent, going after her with guns blazing was not the way