Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Not sure I understand boring these days.
“What are you working on today?” Caroline asks.
I wince at her tone, so completely oblivious to my fuck-up and near-death experience. I blew my cover and almost died. “Not much. I’m riding desk for the foreseeable future.”
“Yikes,” she murmurs sympathetically, but doesn’t push for details. “If it makes you feel any better, I botched one of my first assignments with Jameson and yet I’m still here and thriving.”
“You’re installing a camera system and alarm in a politician’s house,” I point out with a grin.
Carolina pounds on her chest. “That hurts, Josie. Really hurts.”
“What hurts?” Reid asks as he walks in, making a beeline for the cookies. He grabs four of them and then hops up on the counter with his legs swinging.
“My ego,” Caroline mutters.
Reid takes a bite of the first cookie and looks at me like he’s just experienced nirvana.
“Good, right?”
“To die for,” he agrees around a mouthful of oats and chocolate. He swallows and says, “Heard you took on the Russians single-handedly night before last.”
Caroline’s head turns slowly toward me. “You did what?”
“Oops,” Reid says with a duck of his head. “I thought it was common knowledge.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him. Gossip travels fast in this building.
“Russians?” Caroline prods.
“Russians,” I affirm.
“Like the Russian Russians.”
“Those are the ones.”
“And you took them on single-handedly?”
“I went to scope a landing site BOB had flagged. Things went sideways and I ended up in the water. A guy in a fishing boat pulled me out. End of story.”
“A guy in a fishing boat.”
“Yes.”
“Just a guy.”
“Just a guy.”
But that’s not true. Finn Marlowe is so much more than “just a guy.”
Caroline takes a slow sip of her coffee. “And the Russians?”
“Working a trafficking pipeline out of the Salish Sea.”
“Women?” she guesses.
“Yeah,” I reply glumly, the memory of what I witnessed haunting me.
Caroline sets her coffee down. “Jesus, Josie. Those fuckers are the type who will kill you just for looking at them sideways.”
“I know. They almost did kill me.”
“Josie,” she drawls in a low, disbelieving tone.
“I know, I know. It was stupid and it won’t happen again. Lesson learned and all that.”
She looks at me for a long moment. Then she picks up her coffee and takes another sip and does not say what she clearly wants to say.
Reid hops off the counter and nudges me with his hip. “Next time, McAdams, you wait for your partner, right?”
“Yeah… I got it. Enough with the recriminations.”
As a peace offering, Reid gives me another cookie and I take it. “Malik went easy on you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. He could have fired me. I get it. My punishment is to work a counterintel case, which can be done from the comfort of my desk.”
Reid snorts and shakes his head. “There’s no way you’re not working the Russian trafficking case, McAdams. I know you. You’ve got BOB running on something right now and you’ll run leads down regardless of what Malik says.”
“I wouldn’t—”
Reid leans in closer, looks at me pointedly. “And if you do find a lead you need help running down, you call me. I’ll go with you. Deal?”
I swallow the retort that was on the tip of my tongue, because I expected him to tell me to stay out of the case. Instead, he’s sort of offering encouragement to keep snooping.
“Deal,” I say, giving him an affectionate nudge back.
Because I fully intend to do whatever it takes to bring these monsters down and save future victims. What Reid or Caroline or any of the others don’t know is I have more than BOB and my analytical skills.
I think about yesterday… the drive to Finn’s place in Magnolia and the whole conversation about Voronin while we sat on his patio and watched the sun sink into the water.
I remember the way he proposed the trade—a date for info—and that I was in no way put off by the offer.
And now I have a date tonight with the mysterious art gallery owner and possible smuggler.
Yeah… I have more than BOB.
I have the only living person outside of Voronin’s organization who has been close enough to Voronin’s operation to know names and routes and timing. And that person—for reasons I don’t yet fully understand—wants to take me out on a date.
Which is something I intend to keep to myself.
Of course, Cole knows part of this. Not the part I’m thinking about right now, but a piece of it.
My debrief happened this morning, just after eight in the small conference room on the main floor. Cole brought me a coffee, which was sweet, but there’s no mistaking he was all business. His job was to ferret out every piece of information he could so that we can use it to build a better case against Voronin.
He picked and prodded. He came at the same details from three different angles. He found the gaps Malik hadn’t found because he had the time to dig deep.