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Exploited

Page 58

   


“Is that another note?” Perry asked.
“Yeah, it is,” I said, dropping it onto my desk as if it were on fire.
Perry picked it up and read the cryptic message and frowned. “I think you should take this to Agent Sanders.”
“And what will Agent Sanders do? It’s virtually impossible to trace where this came from, and like I said last time, it’s not a direct threat of any kind.”
Perry handed it back to me and I folded it up and shoved it into my desk.
“Who do you think it’s referring to? Who’s the ‘she’?”
I shrugged. “The Queen of England?”
Perry snorted. “Why can’t people sending warnings just tell you what they want you to know? Why make it all mysterious?”
“Good point. And exactly why I’m not going to stress about it.”
I’d never admit to my partner that it was bothering me. It wasn’t the first time in my career that I had been targeted by crazy shit. But something about the letters bugged me.
But Perry was right; if they were trying to warn me, why couldn’t they just spell it out?
My phone rang, startling me.
“Agent Kohler.”
“Well hello, Agent.” Hannah’s husky voice filled my ear and I felt my entire body respond.
“I’m glad you called,” I said. Even to my ears I sounded frayed. Tired.
“Is everything all right? Rough day?” She sounded concerned.
“I just got off the phone with my parents. They’re angry with me for not coming to see them this weekend. But I’m trying to remember that it’s okay to have the distance.” I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my forehead, the throbbing headache abating a bit.
“I’m sorry they give you such a hard time.”
“Eh, it’s not your problem. But I don’t want to talk about my parents. What’s going on with you? After this day I’m really looking forward to dinner tonight.” We had made plans to go out to eat. Seeing Hannah at the end of the day had become the highlight for me.
I realized that I missed her when she wasn’t around.
“That’s why I’m calling.” Hannah sounded apologetic and I knew what was coming.
“You’re canceling on me.”
“I have to work late tonight. Mr. Healey wants me to finish up some financials that he needs for the quarterly meeting.”
“Mr. Healey needs to know that you have a life outside of the office,” I said. Hannah didn’t talk much about her job, but from what I could glean, her boss was a dick, her job mundane. She was vague on the details, though I couldn’t fault her for that. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to talk about work.
“You’re telling me. But it’s my job.” She sighed, sounding as tired and stressed as I was.
“How late are you going to be?” I asked, hating that she was stuck at work. Hating that I wouldn’t get to see her.
“I really have no idea.”
There was noise on the other end, the clacking of a keyboard. The clicking of a mouse. I recognized the sounds.
“I’ve got a lot to do, so I’d better get going.” She sounded distracted.
“What if I came over later, after you get home? I could bring takeout,” I suggested quickly before she could hang up.
“You don’t have to do that, Mason.” There was muffling, as if she were propping the phone on her shoulder. I could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to what I was saying.
“I know I don’t have to. But I’d really like to see you, if you’re up to it.” I wouldn’t beg, but it was damn close. Seeing Hannah kept me grounded. Kept me sane. I hadn’t realized how quickly I had grown accustomed to seeing her.
“I really can’t say how long I’ll be,” she said. Was she putting me off?
Why was she being so evasive?
Don’t! I screamed inwardly, silencing the voice that seemed stuck on self-destruct.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” I teased.
She chuckled. “Oh yeah? Do you mean Chinese food and a chick flick?”
“Damn, is that what you thought? I hoped you’d want some more of my lips. And my hands. And any other part of me you want to make use of,” I told her huskily.
I glanced around, making sure I wasn’t overheard. Perry was sitting at his desk, so I could be assured he was eavesdropping. Pervy fuck.
“That sounds pretty good, actually. The hands and lips, I mean. Not just Chinese and a movie,” she said, chuckling.
“I’d hoped it sounded better than pretty good,” I gently chided.
“Okay, it definitely sounds better than pretty good,” she corrected herself. “I can come over to your place—”
“We’re always at my place. I’m sure you’ll be tired. Why don’t I come to you?”
“I don’t mind driving to your apartment,” she protested. I could hear the continued clicking of her keyboard, her attention waning. Her voice was sounding far away.
“Are you worried I’ll find all those skeletons in your closet?” I joked.
Hannah’s laughter was strained.
“Okay, you can come here. But I’m not cleaning up for you. You’ve been warned.”
“I won’t make any snarky comments about your housekeeping, I promise,” I said.
“Be here about eight o’clock?”
“If you’re going to be any later, just text me.”
“I’ll make sure I’m home. No problem,” she assured me.
“If Mr. Healey gives you any shit, let me know. I’ll come by and you can introduce him to your badass FBI agent boyfriend.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Boyfriend?” she asked, and my mouth went dry.
Too fast?
I could never quite tell with Hannah. When she was hot, she was smoldering. I couldn’t get enough.
But then when she was cold, I was left confused and bewildered.
She said she had been hurt before. She had alluded to relationship baggage. I understood. Who hadn’t had their heart broken?
I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the story. What had happened to make being with her like sitting on a seesaw?
But it was addictive and I wanted to stay on the ride.
“Can I be your boyfriend, Hannah?” I asked softly, feeling a bit like an idiot.