Rival agents uncover a monstrous conspiracy

From the moment they met, sparks had flown…and not the good kind. Agent Jane Fallon would rather chew nails than work with arrogant—and much too good-looking—Holden Archangelo. But, convinced his brother was no traitor, Holden had Jane’s investigation reopened. And now Jane is forced to partner with him.

As new leads come to light, Jane’s certainty about the case is shaken. But the assassin’s bullet whizzing past her head convinces her they are onto something. Jane’s determined to keep things professional, but as the danger around them intensifies, so does the fierce attraction they try so hard to deny….

“You have to admit there’s a spark between us.”

“That’s not the point,” Jane insisted. “Neither of us is suited for a relationship.”

“I’m going to play dumb for a second so you can tell me why we’re not suited for one another,” Holden replied.

“There’s no way I could ever bring you home to my family.”

“Last time I checked I was a pretty good catch.”

“It’s nothing to do with you. It’s the way my family would perceive you.”

“I’m confused. You’re saying it’s not me, it’s your family?”

“Sort of.”

“Oh, good. For a second I thought you were throwing up imaginary obstacles,” he said. “Listen, just admit that you and I shared something pretty incredible. And I’ll leave it at that.”

“You’ll drop it?”

“Sure,” he lied. “Just admit that I rocked your world and we’ll go back to being simply partners without benefits.”

“Okay, Holden. You were pretty amazing and quite possibly the best guy I’ve ever slept with. Is that enough?”

“Yeah, it’ll do. Now tell me again why we shouldn’t be partners with benefits?”

“You’re impossible.”

Dear Reader,

Go big or go home—that was the prevailing mantra that kept running through my head with the final chapter in this exciting series of books. The stakes are the highest they’ve ever been, the characters rich with life and the situation without easy answers. Of course, it makes for good reading, but it makes for really hard writing! This book didn’t come together easily, but it was worth the trouble, as I think this story is one of the best (which is hard for me to say because all my books are like my babies).

I hope you enjoy The Agent’s Surrender with its twists and turns and ultimate conclusion. If you’re just coming to this story, you might want to check out The Sniper, which is Nathan’s story, and Moving Target, which is Jake’s story. Both are a great complement to Jane and Holden’s story.

Hearing from readers is a special joy. Please feel free to drop me a line via email through my website at www.kimberlyvanmeter.com or through snail mail at Kimberly Van Meter, P.O. Box 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

All the best,

Kimberly

The Agent’s
Surrender
Kimberly Van Meter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIMBERLY VAN METER

wrote her first book at sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for the Mills & Boon Superromance and Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense lines. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

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With all my love and admiration…

To my editor, Johanna Raisanen…you’ve taken my words and made them shine. I’m so lucky to have you on my side. From The Call to now, we’re a great team, and I am so grateful for your wisdom, your guidance and your talent! Here’s to many more collaborative books in our future.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“They can’t do this.” Holden Archangelo, CIA special skills officer, held his temper by the thinnest margin as his superior, Reed Harris, chief of staff, military affairs, looked up at Holden’s sudden appearance in his office. Holden gripped the door frame with Jane Fallon hot on his heels. “There’s been a mistake,” he said, ignoring Jane’s rigid, unwelcome presence.

“Your personal feelings are clouding your judgment,” Jane cut in, her lithe and muscular frame nearly as stiff as her inability to see Holden’s side. “If the accused were anyone other than your twin brother, would you have the same objections?”

He ignored her point. “Miko’s innocent.”

“He was proved guilty,” Jane countered. “And he will be treated as any person found guilty of treason.” She looked to Reed for affirmation.

“We all can sympathize with your position, Holden,” Reed said, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

Holden swallowed. Yes, the entire department knew Miko was Holden’s twin brother, which was why the case had been given to Jane and not Holden.

He kept his gaze trained on their superior, effectively trying to ignore Jane’s presence, which was near impossible. Pissed as hell would’ve been too mild of a phrase for the impotent rage choking him. He could admit Jane was a solid investigator, but he believed her final determination had been personal. Very personal. “Permission to remove Agent Fallon from the case for someone less biased.”

Jane sputtered, and he could feel the force of her glare even though he kept his stare focused on Chief Harris. “Sir, I take offense to his accusation,” she said. “My service record is impeccable, and I’ve given this office no reason to question my skills or my ability to separate my personal feelings from a case.”

Chief Harris grunted in agreement, giving Holden a sour look that warned him to tread carefully. “Don’t let your mouth overload your ass, son. Agent Fallon is more than qualified to handle this case. Permission denied. What’s this about anyway?” He pushed the paperwork on his desk and tapped it with his stubbed finger. “Nothing is in this file that we all didn’t already know was coming.”

Jane had concluded that Miko had been guilty of killing several people—including his own boss at the U.S. Department of Informational Development, or I.D. for short—and then committing suicide when the situation got too hot.

From the minute Holden had been told that Miko had killed himself at his own bar, something hadn’t passed the sniff test. No way would Miko have committed suicide. Not in a million years. Honor was something the Archangelo boys held sacred, and there was nothing honorable about taking a coward’s way out. “He didn’t do it,” he said between gritted teeth.

Jane shook her head, irritated. “Why are we having this conversation? I have eyewitness testimony that your brother ate a bullet. Harsh, yes, but sometimes the truth doesn’t pull punches.”

Holden had talked to Nathan Isaacs briefly about Miko’s death and, though Nathan had been there when Miko died, this was not an open-and-shut case. As difficult as it was for Holden to accept that Miko had pulled the trigger, he could not believe the story ended there. “Something was missed. No one knew my brother like I did, and I’m telling you, something isn’t right,” he finished hotly.

“I’m sure the family members of most suicide victims share similar conviction, but I assure you, nothing was missed,” Jane retorted, almost bored. “The truth is it doesn’t matter how you feel about the matter, your brother did, indeed, kill himself and you’re going to have to find a way to deal with that knowledge. It’s time to face facts and move on. Miko Archangelo was found guilty of his crimes and, as per the regulations, will be stripped of all military honors effective immediately. Frankly, I find your outrage a little confusing. The report was finished a month ago.”

“Yeah, and someone made sure that I’m just now seeing it,” he shot back, leaving no doubt he believed it was Jane’s doing. “Funny how that happened. If I’d known about your findings, I would’ve found a way to put a stop to your little celebration ceremony.”

Jane colored but held her ground and looked to their superior to end the controversy once and for all. “Sir?”

Reed considered a moment and then said, “Son, I know you’re hurting. You and your brother shared a close bond. But there comes a time when you have to accept the facts as they are given. Miko made a grave error in judgment and got in over his head. It’s that simple. It hurts, I know, but we’re not in the business of sugarcoating the truth.”

Holden spied the tiniest lift of Jane’s mouth and burned at the thought she might get the upper hand in this. Not because of their shared history—but because Miko’s honor depended on Holden succeeding.

“I have new evidence,” he blurted, taking a risk when he didn’t have all his ducks lined up just yet. Jane frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Holden wouldn’t give her the chance to shoot him down. “Sir, I know I’ve got a dog in this fight, but that’s all the more reason to let me at least see this through, whatever that end might be. Let me chase down this one lead, and if nothing comes of it, I’ll let it go.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jane protested, shooting Holden a dark look. “The case is closed. What’s next? Reopening every closed case when a family member squawks at the outcome? This sets the potential for a very dangerous precedent.”

“If your investigation is solid, Jane, you have nothing to worry about,” Holden returned. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass if Jane Fallon came out looking like a junior officer with her first real case. All he cared about was clearing Miko’s name.

“And what’s this new piece of evidence and why didn’t you present it when Jane was conducting her investigation?” Reed asked. The older man watched him intently. “Did you purposefully withhold information in an attempt to protect your brother?”

“No sir. This information came to me only recently.”

“What information is that?” Jane crossed her arms.

“It’s my lead,” he said coldly. “I’ll chase it down. I wouldn’t want your bias to color your judgment.”

“My bias? What about yours?”

“If my brother is truly guilty, I’ll close the book and let it be. I know he’s not, though. If you had known my brother, you’d know he couldn’t have done the things you say he did.”

“And would you say your brother wasn’t capable of gunning down innocent people? Because he absolutely did that,” she countered. “That’s irrefutable.”

Holden swallowed. True, and that piece of the puzzle didn’t make sense. All kinds of bad stuff had been happening under the auspices of I.D., which had subsequently been shut down, but Holden had a feeling the rot went even deeper than they’d uncovered. And somehow Miko had been at the heart of it.

“So spit it out,” she pressed, her green eyes narrowing as she awaited his answer. “What’s this new compelling evidence that miraculously appeared at the eleventh hour?”

He glanced at Reed. “I’d prefer to share that information in private.”

His boss shook his head. “Jane is the investigating officer. Technically, any information you have should be shared with her, too.” Reed’s stare bounced from one officer to the other. “I really have no reservations with Jane as an investigator, nor do I feel she was biased. She followed the evidence and arrived at the conclusion that we all did.” He drew himself up and effectively put an end to the conversation, saying, “I’m sorry, son, but this case is closed. You’re going to have to make peace with it.”

“My brother was a highly decorated marine.” Holden’s throat was tight. “To strip him of his medals... They were all he had left.”

“He should’ve thought of that before he committed treason,” Jane said, nodding to Reed with smug approval. “Sorry to have bothered you, sir.”

Finished, she turned and left Holden standing in Reed’s office, his anger smoldering so hot he didn’t trust himself not to blow his entire career with one expletive. He reined in his anger enough to ask, “Sir, is that your final decision on the subject?”

“It is.”

Holden accepted his superior’s answer with a stiff nod and exited the office, but instead of going straight to his desk, he grabbed his coat and headed out. He needed air. Or else he was going to do something as foolish as throttle Jane Fallon.

* * *

From her desk, Jane watched Holden stomp out of the building. She released a pent-up breath. What possible evidence could Holden have that she hadn’t uncovered in her investigation? She was known for her sharp eye and attention to detail. It wasn’t possible she’d missed something. Right?

She returned to Reed’s office, and her boss offered a brief, knowing smile. “He planted a seed, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t miss anything,” she protested, but Reed was right; Holden had definitely planted a seed of doubt, and it was already germinating like a weed in her mind. “What do you think he was he talking about?”

“Does it matter?” Reed countered, and she supposed he was right. It didn’t matter. The case was closed. “You have to understand that Holden is grieving the loss of his brother on several different levels. He’ll survive this, and it will all become an unpleasant memory best left in the past.”

She didn’t think so. She’d known Holden for a year. They’d both transferred at the same time to the CIA, military affairs department, and ever since their brief, ill-fated and definitely secret affair, they’d been at odds with one another. However, if pressed, Jane would have to admit Holden was as thorough an officer as she—which meant if Holden thought he had new evidence, he likely did. “Maybe I ought to look into the case, make sure there aren’t any loose ends.”

Reed arched his brow. “You want to reopen it?” he asked.

“No,” she said quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was reopen the case that had finally given her a measure of approval from her father, but if there was even the slightest chance she’d missed something, she couldn’t let it go. “But I don’t want Holden questioning my skills. I have no doubt that my investigation will hold up.”

“Then why do you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t.” I care what others will think if Holden starts spreading his theory around. If word reached her father that she’d potentially buggered up the high-profile case.... She shuddered to think of how heavy his disappointment would be. “I just like to be thorough,” she finished.

Reed sighed, as if knowing the exercise was pointless and a waste of manpower, but he shrugged and said, “Fine. I’ll reopen the case for one week. But here’s the catch,” he added. “Holden is going to work with you.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think that’s wise,” she said, her heart skipping a beat. “He doesn’t have a clear head. He’s too emotional about this. Holden is a wild card that will only impede my progress.”

“Potentially true, but Holden is a good officer—as good as you—and I have a feeling if he doesn’t get the opportunity to chase this down, he’s going to do something rash. I don’t want to lose a good officer over this.”

Work with Holden? She’d rather chew nails. “Sir, I can appreciate your concern but—”

“Decision is made. You and Holden have a week to get this cleared up. Try not to kill each other in the process.”

And what if they did worse than kill each other? Jane’s mouth dropped open in dismay, hating the idea of working side by side with Holden. From the minute they’d met, sparks had flown—the kind that made for incredible, earth-shattering sex but only made things messy everywhere else except the bedroom. She found him arrogant, harsh, cocky and too good-looking to be trusted. Anyone with eyes like his ought to be quarantined as a matter of national security. He was bad news. He reacted emotionally instead of rationally, and he didn’t care how his actions affected other people. Such as when he wanted to come clean about their relationship and she wanted to keep it quiet. She had known her father would never approve, and she had told Holden this, which somehow had prompted him to have a conversation with her father, The Major. And that had gone down exactly as she’d imagined—not well. She’d ended her relationship with Holden and he had been adversarial with her ever since. Now whenever they were together, her armpits immediately started to sweat, which was why she’d switched to clinical-strength deodorant. He set her teeth on edge.

He also hogged the office exercise equipment. Of course, he would be the only other person who arose at a ridiculously early hour to get in a good workout before the day started. It was hard enough to forget his near-perfect body without having to exercise beside him each morning, but she was not about to purchase a gym membership when she had a free gym readily available to her.

And now she was supposed to work with him like they were buddies in a Sandra Bullock film? No way. Again, she’d rather eat nails. Rusty ones, at that.

She returned to her desk and glowered at her screensaver—flying blue stars streaking in wild patterns across her monitor. The pattern bothered her and she jiggled her mouse to make it stop.

“Why don’t you just change your screensaver?”

Jane swiveled to stare at her officemate, Special Skills Officer Ursula Benza. “Because sometimes you have to assert your dominance over your OCD tendencies,” she quipped before exhaling a short breath of annoyance at her situation. She frowned. “What do you know about Holden finding new evidence regarding his brother?” Ursula’s blank look answered Jane’s question. “Okay, so he didn’t share,” she surmised, not surprised. Holden was a locked box when he chose to be. “No idea what it could be?”

“Does anyone know what goes through that handsome head of his?” Ursula asked, smiling when Jane grimaced. “You’re the only woman within a ten-mile radius who seems to be immune to his freakishly hot body, which begs the question about a certain lady’s sexual orientation.”

Jane shot Ursula a dark look. “Don’t even go there. Maybe the reason I don’t find him attractive is because he has the personality of a wet shoe.” When it was obvious personality didn’t matter to Ursula when presented with a hot male body, she added, “It would be inappropriate and weird to date a coworker.” It was a good thing she wasn’t overtly religious because the lie that just tripped from her mouth was entirely too convincing. Holden was her Achilles’ heel and she was determined to root out that weakness.

“Hmm...who said anything about dating?”

Jane wrinkled her nose and Ursula grinned. Ugh. Knowing that her colleague harbored less than office-friendly fantasies about Holden made Jane twitch with discomfort. Okay, so it was complicated.

“So.” Ursula tapped a finger on her desk. “What’s this about more evidence about his brother’s case?”

“I don’t know. Holden wouldn’t share, but Chief Harris put us both on the case just to be sure every stone has been checked and double-checked.”

“Ouch. That’s not going to go over very well with Daddy, is it?” Ursula guessed accurately, but Jane didn’t want to think about it.

“My dad will understand this is just a formality. Nothing is going to change. Miko was guilty and that’s what Holden will have to come to realize. Brother or not, Miko killed several people in cold blood and then offed himself. Sad but true.”

“Brutal. Kind of makes you wonder why, though, right?”

“No.” Jane disagreed sharply. “It’s not my job to wonder about the motivations of criminals, and if this was anyone but Holden’s twin brother, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Once again, his personal feelings are getting in the way.”

“Can you blame the guy? I mean...family, you know? What if it was one of your brothers?”

“My brothers wouldn’t shame their family by doing something like Miko did, so I can’t imagine how I would feel. In my family, there are no shades of gray.”

“Girl, you have a heart of stone.” Ursula tsked with an arched brow. “Someday that quality is going to bite you in the ass.”

“Not likely. However, I can definitely see Holden reaping terrible consequences if he keeps poking at the hornet’s nest.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The only thing she could do. “Put an end to this waste of time and prove once and for all that Miko Archangelo was a traitor to his country so we can all move on.”

Case closed. Again.

Chapter 2

Holden was nursing a beer when he heard a knock at his front door. It was nearing eight o’clock in the evening. He grabbed his cell and checked his security camera feed, surprised and irritated when he saw Jane standing outside. “What the hell does she want? To gloat?” he muttered, pocketing his cell and going to the door, beer still in hand. He cracked the door and fixed her with a baleful stare that he hoped sent home the message she was the last person he wanted darkening his doorstep. “What do you want?” he asked, moving straight past the pleasantries to the point.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked. When he shook his head, her mouth firmed, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she said, “Reed has agreed to reopen the case.”

He straightened, surprised and immediately suspicious. “Why?”

She shrugged. “What does it matter? The case has been briefly reopened, and in the meantime, all disciplinary actions are pending the conclusion. However, there’s a catch.”

“Isn’t there always?” he countered with a narrowed stare. “What is it?”

“Reed put me and you both on the case.”

“Screw that.”

“Exactly how I felt, but he’s not going to change his mind.”

“He will once he realizes that you and me working together is the worst idea since hydroponics.”

“Hydroponics? You mean the world’s first successful attempt at creating a sustainable way to grow food in a world with diminishing land resources? That hydroponics?”

“Yeah, exactly. Anything grown without dirt isn’t natural. It’s Frankenfood. So yeah, bad idea.”

“Weird analogy aside, Reed has made up his mind, so we’re working together on your fool’s errand. Don’t think for a second I believe you’re operating on anything other than emotions and ignoring the facts—as usual. Frankly, I find your behavior an embarrassment to the department.”

“Don’t hold back. Let it all out, Agent Fallon,” he said wryly, tipping his beer back and swallowing. “And since we’re sharing, I should go on record as saying I think you’re operating from a place of ego and fear because you’re afraid you truly did miss something and you can’t bear the thought of looking sloppy.”

She lifted her chin with a cold grin. “Holden always has all the answers, doesn’t he?”

“Most times. Particularly when the question isn’t all that hard to figure out. Face it, Fallon. I’ve had you figured out from the day we met, and if you weren’t so afraid of Daddy’s disapproval, we could’ve been a helluva team.”

“You’re the one suffering from an inflated ego,” she said, eyes flashing. “And I would appreciate it if you would stick to the case. Leave the personal crap out of this—that is, if you can manage.”

“Cold as ice, as usual.” His gaze darkened as he tipped his beer back again. “Tell me, Fallon, were you born this cold or did you work at it?”

She smiled. “I guess that’s none of your business as it doesn’t relate to the case. If you can’t handle being a professional, I’ll just let the chief know your interest in the case has died and we’ll all happily close the book on this wild-goose chase.”

He straightened, shaking his head. “You’re a piece of work.”

“As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have a life and need to get back to it. I just came by to let you know you got your wish.”

“Well, thank you for your consideration,” he said with open sarcasm; he knew the real reason she’d dropped by was to get the slip of evidence he held to his chest. Good luck with that—he’d made it up. “Have a good evening, Agent Fallon.”

She glared, standing rigid, looking as if she’d just sucked a lemon, but she forced a smile. “See you tomorrow. Be prepared to work. I want to get this over with. Some of us have real work to do and don’t have time to chase fairy tales.”

He chuckled. “Nice try, but I don’t bait that easily. Good night, Fallon.” He shut the door before she could retort. Work with Fallon? Nope. That woman was the original ice queen. And to think at one time he’d thought he was falling in love with her. What a joke. Besides, he worked alone. Fallon could do whatever she pleased as long as she stayed out of his way.

* * *

That’d gone about as well as she’d expected. But a girl could hope, right? Of course, she hadn’t expected him to welcome her into his home with open arms and offer her a beer, but she hadn’t quite expected him to be so rude. Well, yes she had. They weren’t buddies, and she preferred it that way.

She walked with strong, purposeful strides to her car, suppressing a shiver at the bitter cold of a Washington, D.C., winter, and pushed the reality of working with Holden as far from her mind as possible. She was a strong investigator. Holden couldn’t have anything in his hot little hand that would change the outcome of her investigation. And that was exactly what she’d tell her father in about fifteen minutes, when she was expected for dinner with her brothers.

There was a chance her father, retired Major General Gregory Fallon, hadn’t heard of this recent development, but then her father still had scarily deep connections, and a reverberation of this sort was bound to ripple some water under the boats. However, if he didn’t mention it, she’d keep the information to herself.

She walked into her father’s house and followed the sound of voices to the living room, where her father and two brothers, Ian and Walker, sat enjoying a beer and talking shop. For a brief moment, a familiar envy arced across her heart for their easily defined relationships. Simply put, The Major was openly proud of his marine sons for their varied accomplishments, but when it came to his marine daughter, he always found cause to criticize. What would it be like to sit and enjoy a beer with her dad like her brothers did? The Major frowned upon women drinking—he said they lacked the constitution to handle their liquor. Yeah, her dad was unapologetically sexist and there was nothing she could do about it, least of all change him. Time to run the gauntlet. “Hey, Dad,” she said, announcing herself as she entered the room.

“There she is, only a little bit late this time,” The Major said with a wink at Ian, who laughed at her expense.

“Work kept me late,” she said, hating the defensiveness of her tone. “Reed threw me a big case,” she added, though she immediately wished she hadn’t.

“Oh?” her older brother, Walker, said, intrigued. “Anything as good as that Archangelo case?”

Her dad grunted. “Those Archangelo boys, waste of good military training... Twisted branches never grow into strong oaks,” he said, repeating the same bit of advice he’d shoved down her throat when he’d found out about her and Holden.

“Yes, Dad, I’m well aware of your feelings about Holden,” she said, mildly irritated that she found herself defending the man. “But Holden is nothing like his brother—he’s a good investigator with a solid record.”

The Major shook his head. “The man has no respect for authority, which points to a weak character. Add in the fact that Miko was Holden’s twin...mark my words, he’ll show his true colors sooner or later.”

Why was she wasting time defending Holden when she knew there was no winning this argument with her father? Total waste of energy. She’d long ago learned to pick her battles, and this situation was no different.

“So what’s the big case?” Walker asked.

“I don’t have details yet,” she hedged. “I will know more in a few days.” Her father narrowed a speculative gaze at her, as if he were reading her mind and discovering her secrets, and she suffered an uncomfortable moment. “When I can divulge details I will,” she clarified. Anytime she tried to act as their equal, they managed to shoot her down with the equivalent of an indulgent pat on the head. Well, that was how her brothers handled it. Her father? He just got that look on his face that said, “Girl, you’ll never be as good as your brothers because you’re a woman and incapable of critical thinking” and she ended up doing and saying something that invariably started an argument. So tonight, she was determined to steer clear of any potential land mines. Yet...she’d just lobbed a big one in her own path. Self-destructive much? “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

The Major grunted and returned to his sons. “Walker, tell us about the latest detail in Afghanistan.”

“Dad, you know I’m not supposed to talk about that—it’s classified,” he said, winking at their father. The Major laughed as if they were sharing a big private joke, and Jane hated she couldn’t just enjoy an evening with her family like normal folks. Her thoughts wandered to Holden, and she pushed them back. She didn’t want to think of him. Not now. She was already surrounded by big, tall, muscular numbskulls with too much testosterone. She certainly didn’t need to muddy her brain with one more.

“Dad, how was the summit?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation. “Anything worth reporting?”

“Bunch of politicians jockeying to be top dog,” he said. “Nothing new. Food was adequate for the situation, but I was more than happy to be home where a man can get a decent steak.”

Adequate. Top chefs catered the military summit each year. It was mildly gratifying to know her father was difficult to please on all fronts. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be eating so much steak at your age,” she countered. “Your cholesterol is probably through the roof.”

“My cholesterol is fine,” her dad said. Then his brow arched in a knowing fashion, and Jane’s stomach flopped. He knew and he’d simply been waiting for a convenient segue. Damn the man’s connections. He probably had a line to God so he knew when to pack an umbrella. “Let’s get back on topic. Jane, an interesting conversation floated my way concerning the investigation you closed on that Archangelo man.”

“Yes? Such as?” she asked, feigning polite interest when she really wanted to forgo eating and split this dinner invitation. She grabbed a handful of pretzels and tossed one back. “Anything good?”

“Talk is that his brother is asking questions.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. It was his brother after all,” she answered, trying not to choke on the pretzel. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is the whole I.D. debacle was an embarrassment to this country and everyone is ready to put it to bed. You did a decent job closing that investigation to everyone’s satisfaction. Perhaps you could persuade your peer to let sleeping dogs lie,” The Major suggested, but his tone told her it was anything but. She hated when her dad pulled rank. “I.D. was a toxic extension of the government that ended up with gangrene. Many good people went down on that ship. No one wants to dredge it up again.”

“I told him that,” she said, biting her tongue too late. She looked to her brothers for help, but they were watching her as keenly as their father was. Damn boys. They stuck together, no matter what. Well, cat’s out of the bag. No sense dancing around. She tossed back the last pretzel and said, “He’s never going to stop asking questions. He doesn’t believe Miko was guilty.”

“The guy was caught red-handed,” Ian said with a snort. “He couldn’t have been more guilty than if he’d filmed himself doing it and mailed the evidence to the authorities.”

“It’s an open-and-shut case,” Walker agreed. “I wish all my cases were that easy.”

She bristled. “It wasn’t that easy. The I.D. corruption went deep. There’s always the potential we didn’t root out all of the rot. I assure you, it wasn’t an easy investigation by any means.”

“Of course, Janey,” Walker soothed in a patronizing way that made her want to sucker punch him in the kidneys. “It was a nice feather in your cap, for sure.”

“Thanks, Walker,” she gritted, her temperature rising. “Listen, I don’t know if Holden has anything of value, but he says he has some new evidence.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, hating that she’d blabbed at all. But no sense in hanging on to a half story. “Reed has temporarily reopened the case with Holden and me investigating.”

Her dad scowled. “That’s some special kind of bullshit. What possible evidence could this Holden character have that would warrant reopening the case?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” she answered truthfully. If only Holden hadn’t been such a jerk and shared what he knew, she could’ve had solid answers, but now it seemed as if she were on the outside looking in on her own case. “I’m sure it’s nothing truly substantial, but Reed thinks this will give Holden closure.”

“Whole lot of hand-holding if you ask me.” Her dad groused and her brothers nodded. “If I was in charge, none of that would be going on.”

“Yes, Dad,” she said dutifully, though she wanted to roll her eyes. Her dad had little faith that anyone could do their jobs as well as he could. Well, you didn’t rise up the marine ranks by sitting back and letting the tide carry you. Her dad had the chops to back up his claims, but he wasn’t the least bit gracious about it, which put him on the outs with almost everyone beneath him. “Anyway, I’m starved. When’s dinner? I have an early day tomorrow and I still need to go over the case files.”

“It should be ready now.” Her dad motioned for everyone to follow him to the dining room. He nodded with brisk approval at Claudine, the live-in maid and cook, and then seated himself at the head of the table like a king surveying his subjects, which Jane thought was an apt analogy.

“Smells great, Claudine,” she murmured, ready to dig in and get the hell out.

“How are you, Miss Jane?” Claudine asked, placing the gravy boat nearest to her father because he practically drank the stuff with a straw. Her father was waging a war against time, determined to prove he was damn near invincible, no matter that he was nearing seventy.

“Good, and yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” The older woman smiled. “When are you going to meet a nice young man?”

“No time for that,” she said briskly, shaking her head as she scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes. Why didn’t anyone ever ask why Walker or Ian hadn’t settled down? Because men were allowed to be footloose and fancy-free, she answered herself in a sour tone. “I’m married to my job,” she said, thinking briefly of the time she and Holden had spent together. If things had been different...maybe...but they weren’t, so what was the point in wallowing in the past?

Her father nodded and said, “There’s more to life than getting married, Claudine. Don’t be putting foolish thoughts into the girl’s head. She’s finally doing all right. Time to focus on the priorities.”

Somehow having her father echo the same sentiment sent a stone tumbling into the pit of her stomach when it should’ve made her grin from ear to ear. She was constantly yearning for a smidgeon of her father’s approval, yet sometimes the smidge just tasted hollow.

Hell, she must be tired. This whole situation with Holden and the case had put her off-kilter. Tomorrow she’d find out what the hell kind of evidence Holden thought he had and then she’d start putting this baby to bed. For good.

Chapter 3

Per usual, Holden awoke at 4:30 a.m., and after pounding back an organic whey protein shake, dressed, grabbed his workout bag and headed for the office.

Being in the top level of the CIA had its perks, one of them being the executive exercise facility, which Holden took full advantage of. After a career in the military, he didn’t relish the idea of going soft at a desk job, so he worked out just as hard as he ever did. And also, per usual, Jane was there, too.

It was always a small punch to the gut whenever he saw Jane dressed like a civilian in her workout clothes. It reminded him too vividly how that lithe, muscular body had fit so well against his, and it was in those raw, primal moments that his guard slipped, if only for a heartbeat. And then he remembered how she’d thrown his feelings in his face and walked out on him and the wall went back up.

“Would it kill you to exercise at a different time?” he asked as she joined him, stuffing her bag in the locker and grabbing a towel. “Or is this some twisted scheme to spend more time with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He didn’t know why he’d assumed she’d cut out on her morning workout after getting the news that the case had been reopened, but obviously it hadn’t stopped her. Seeing her there put him instantly on edge.

She headed directly to the treadmill and punched in her usual workout, a punishing ten-mile run in fifty-five minutes. Holden, deciding to bypass his lifting routine, stepped onto the treadmill beside her. He punched in ten miles and kicked up the pace.

After they’d started running, Holden asked, “So why’d Reed change his mind? You have something to do with that?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

She cut him a short look. “I don’t like my work to look sloppy. I realized that if you think you have hard evidence, chances were you did, and I didn’t want to run the risk that someone else might question my skills as an investigator. I figured chasing down the lead was a minimally small risk when I feel confident the end result will remain the same.”

“Why are you so willing to believe the worst of my brother?”

“I didn’t know your brother, so I have no opinion of him. I followed the evidence. Your brother’s death was the catalyst to the entire I.D. network becoming a pile of rubble. That much is easy enough to document. Your brother was implicated in the killings of several high-ranking officials internationally, as well as domestically, and his suicide—”

“Alleged suicide,” he interrupted with a growl, and she shrugged, keeping an easy but brisk pace without breaking a sweat. She was in remarkable shape. One would have to be blind not to notice—and Holden was not blind. Not to mention he had first-hand knowledge of every curve and valley carved into that hot body. “And Nathan Isaacs, his good friend and fellow sniper for I.D., had also been accused of committing unsanctioned hits, and he wasn’t stripped of his medals.”

“Nathan didn’t know he was carrying out someone else’s agenda. Miko did. That much was said in his suicide note.”

“We don’t even know the note was written by Miko because it was printed out and not handwritten. For all we know, my brother was set up by someone higher up the chain.”

“How high are we talking?” she asked, a faint note of mockery in her tone. “C’mon, Holden, Occam’s razor. Sometimes the most obvious explanation is the right one.”

“And sometimes what may seem like the obvious answer is in actuality what someone wants you to believe.”

“Well, you got your wish. We’re going to chase down your lead and see where it takes us. Just don’t blame me when we end up in the same place we started.”

He knew it was possible Jane was right, but his gut said otherwise. He couldn’t explain the twin bond to someone who’d never experienced it. But he could chase down a lead like a bloodhound, and that was what he was going to do. He supposed he owed Reed a note of gratitude for opening the door so he could walk through instead of having to scale windows in the dead of night. Sneaking around wasn’t his favorite game.

“So what’s your story, Fallon?” he asked, curious as to what went on behind those jade eyes.

She shot him an irritated look. “Are you going to gab all morning or let me run in peace? You’ll have plenty opportunity to flap your jaws later.”

“I forgot that your workout takes all your concentration,” he said, knowing the subtle jab would ruffle her feathers. From what he knew of Jane, she didn’t take shortcuts and didn’t do girl push-ups. In fact, she worked harder than most men. She was a marine through and through. As expected, she cast him a dark look and punched in a higher pace as if to prove a point. He chuckled and did the same. They were running side by side, like a cheetah and a gazelle, except they were evenly matched in skill and strength. Sweat began to drip down his temple and soak his T-shirt. A quick look at Jane revealed high points of color pinching her cheeks as she kept up the pace. At this rate, their hearts would explode, and she was so damn stubborn she’d never quit before him. He didn’t want to show weakness, but running had never been his strong suit. Her legs pumped, strong and fierce, as she kept her gaze trained forward, and he had to wonder where she went in her head to withstand such a grueling workout. Running was a mental activity as much as it was physical and Jane was in the zone. He envied her detachment, her ability to compartmentalize the pain of her burning legs and lungs as she pushed herself beyond most people’s capability. Maybe that was how she had been able to just cut him loose and walk away without looking back. Don’t start that crap again, a sharp voice in his head warned when he went too deep into the whys of their breakup. Ancient history—keep it there.

Just when he thought he might collapse, the ten-mile marker dinged and the slowdown began, not a moment too soon. Another five seconds and he might’ve embarrassed himself. His legs were rubber, but he wasn’t about to let Jane see that, particularly when she looked ready to go another five miles. The only indication she’d labored was the ruddy color in her cheeks and the quick rise and fall of her chest as she wiped away the sweat. She ended the run and popped off the treadmill, calling over her shoulder before she headed for the showers, “Be ready to share this game-changing lead, Archangelo. Time is wasting.”

* * *

Jane stood for a full two minutes under the hot spray, groaning silently at the dull ache in her quads and calves from the grueling run. Why’d she have to push it so hard? What did she need to prove to Holden? It wasn’t just Holden—it was to everyone. There was no grace for her. Being the only girl in a military family dominated by men, she’d had no choice but to meet or exceed all expectations. Hell, she’d been doing boy-style push-ups since she was three. She loved her brothers to death, but they were jarhead carbon copies of their dad, and because she was the exact opposite of her father, it must mean she was her mother’s mini me. She stifled another groan. Why couldn’t she have been born a male, too? Life would’ve been so much simpler. No having to constantly prove her worth or justify her existence. No having to defend the fact that she’d been born bearing a striking resemblance to their mother.

The mother who’d left them all behind.

Sometimes she bore her mother’s abandonment as a scarlet letter simply because she had the misfortune to share the same gender.

Jane indulged in a moment of quiet as the water soothed her throbbing muscles and calmed her ragged spirit. Why was she going on this stupid waste of time with Holden? Why didn’t she just stand her ground and discard Holden’s theory? There was no basis of fact, only Holden’s insistence that something was amiss, and that wasn’t enough to reopen a case like Miko’s. Why? The question pelted her as surely as the water jets, but there was no relief answer in sight. Jane groaned, hating the self-doubt niggling at her brain, cutting chunks out of her confidence. Maybe she should’ve gone to Holden when she had first started the investigation. Perhaps if she’d done that, they wouldn’t be questioning anything now, putting a stain on her reputation. But then, as now, she didn’t trust herself around Holden for too long; he did something to her insides. Too much time around Holden and she started to question too many things, and she couldn’t have that. He put a wrinkle in her life that stubbornly refused to iron out, no matter how hard she pressed. And that just wouldn’t work in the overall scheme of things. Enough of this morose, angst crap. She pushed away from the spray and grabbed the soap. It’s not as if things are going to change.

She’d have to put some ointment on her calves tonight, she realized, twisting her foot in a circular motion and grimacing at the immediate protests in her muscles. That was what she got for trying to show off.

But Holden could handle the challenge, she realized with grudging respect. Most people would’ve quit the minute she upped the pace. A secret part of her was glad he hadn’t. She couldn’t respect a man who couldn’t keep up with her. Did she want Holden’s respect? Why should that play into the equation? Jane had to admit, something about Holden made her want to look twice in his direction. She’d seen plenty of hard bodies during her military career—so much so it was more surprising to see a soft physique—but Holden’s body was carved from granite, all hard planes and razor sinews of strength that made her itch to touch them. Just admitting that to herself sent shameful heat scuttling to her cheeks, and she actually heard her father’s voice in her head ranting about “female hormones” and the pursuant “unstable” nature of all women.

Get a grip, Fallon. Stay focused on the big picture. Protect your reputation in the department and find a way to show Holden he’s wrong about his brother.

She shut off the water and wrapped her towel around her with a grim smile. Sounded like a solid plan. Now get to it.

Chapter 4

Fifteen minutes later both Holden and Jane were alone in the conference room ready to work. Despite the fact she’d just run a grueling distance and had just hopped out of the shower, Jane looked impeccable, dressed in a tailored suit and her short, dark hair blown dry and styled. Holden, however, could still feel water dripping down his back from the quick towel off and subsequent dash to the office. Suddenly, he felt disheveled. He shifted in discomfort at the pull of his shirt beneath his suit jacket and took a seat opposite Jane.

She got right to it. “Okay, Holden, here’s your chance. What’s this new evidence you’re talking about?”

Time to come clean. “I lied.” He watched as a storm immediately sprang to life in her eyes. He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, hoping to ward off the lightning before she incinerated him where he stood. “I knew that if I said I just had a gut feeling, there’s no way anyone would’ve taken me seriously.”

“You lied?” Her voice registered cold disbelief as she stiffened. Jane skewered him with her gaze, saying in a low whisper, “I knew it.”

“Let me explain,” he started, but she wasn’t interested in his reasons, not that he blamed her. Anyway, he didn’t really care about her opinion of him.

“This only further proves my point,” she said, waving off his attempt. “You are definitely not thinking clearly if you are willing to jeopardize your entire career for a disgraced brother who’d made his own bed.” She rose abruptly. “I’m telling Reed. This farce of an investigation is finished.”

“Wait,” he said, compelling her to stop. “Reed has agreed to let us investigate, to dig a little deeper. What will it hurt to flip over a few more stones?”

“What will it hurt? My credibility. I know it seems crazy to think of someone aside from yourself, but I have a personal interest in seeing this case closed. This was my case and I investigated it to its successful conclusion. Just because you don’t like the outcome doesn’t mean you get to change the ending of the story. With your military background, I’m surprised you would sink this low.”

Maybe he should’ve made something up. But a small voice inside his head had urged him to be truthful. He’d thought maybe if he could convince Jane he was right, she’d be a powerful ally. But now he was thinking that voice was insane and had definitely steered him wrong. Holden recalled another time he’d listened to that little voice and it’d blown up in his face—the time he’d told Jane he loved her and wanted to build a life with her. She couldn’t dump him fast enough. Yeah, when was he going to learn to tell that voice to shut the hell up?

Time for damage control before things went sidewise fast. “I shouldn’t have lied, but look at it from my point of view. I can’t explain to you a twin bond because frankly, I don’t understand it myself. But my brother and I knew each other like we knew ourselves. My brother was involved in something bigger than what we’ve seen. We’ve only scratched the surface of what’s really going on. I know this as strongly as I know that I can’t stand peas.” He shrugged. “It’s an ingrained knowledge. We have a week to figure out what really happened. If you truly believe my brother is guilty, how will giving me that one week to chase down any leads hurt your case? If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. Nothing changes. But if I’m right—and I believe I am—there’s so much more at stake than my brother’s honor.”

“Such as?”

“If someone else was pulling the strings, then the real threat is still out there. And it’s our job to find it and neutralize it.”

Jane frowned. “I did my job, and now you want to come along and tear it apart just to soothe an emotional wound? I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“What if it was one of your brothers?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be. My brothers would never do anything so rogue. You and I both know that I.D. was on the fringe. Your brother was attracted to that department because of who he was. He was an adrenaline junkie who craved excitement and glory. And I.D. gave it to him. He didn’t care where it came from as long as he got his fix.”

“You didn’t know Miko, so don’t pretend you wrote the book on his character analysis. I’m telling you right now, the man you just described was not my brother. He liked to play the hero, that much is true, and he truly thought he was doing good work. He was doing the jobs that others couldn’t to keep his country safe. I’m sure he was devastated when he found out I.D. had played him false.”

“So devastated he kept putting people in his gun sights and collecting those paychecks?” she mocked. Holden understood she was not buying one red cent of his plea. “You’re spinning your wheels. Your brother screwed up and you’re screwing up by championing a lost cause.”

“A man of my brother’s character would never pull the trigger on himself unless he was forced to,” Holden stated matter-of-factly, ignoring her mockery. “He just wouldn’t. Someone forced his hand. Aren’t you the least bit curious—no, worried—about who is actually calling the shots? I owe it to my brother to figure things out, but you owe it to our country. I know that means something to you. We can’t protect our nation from outside threats if we can’t even identify what threats may reside right in our own house.”

He was reaching her—he could see it in her eyes. “I don’t like your methods,” she finally said, looking as if she’d rather eat rat guts than admit he may have a point, but she wasn’t stupid and that was a point in her favor. “You shouldn’t have lied. Good, bad or indifferent, you should’ve taken your chances with the truth.”

“Maybe. But what’s done is done and I’m not about to apologize. Are you with me or are you going to turn tail and run back to the chief to tattle on me?”

Her lips pressed together in a tight line. She didn’t like being called a tattler. “Fine,” she snapped. “You’ve got one week. If at the end of the week we don’t have anything substantial to go on, we’re closing this case and I never want to hear about it again. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” He breathed a sigh of relief. If Jane had marched into Reed’s office and told their superior that Holden had misrepresented the facts, he could have been fired. It was a gamble he’d begrudgingly been willing to take. Having Jane on his side would make things a lot easier by half. Well, the investigating process would go more smoothly. Now he just had to find a way to stop thinking of her in terms that had nothing to do with the job. Focus, man. “Since we’ve sorted that out, I want to stop by my brother’s bar. He spent the most time there. We might find evidence.”

“We went over the place with a fine-tooth comb. There’s nothing there. Besides, everything’s been packed up and stored in evidence. The bar is nothing but an empty shell. Plus, it’s been put up for sale to satisfy debts levied against your brother’s estate.”

“I know all that. But I want to go anyway. I feel as if we missed something. If I know my brother, he left information behind.”

Jane crossed her arms. “This is a waste of time. If you’d like, we can go through the evidence collected, but I don’t relish the idea of traipsing around an empty bar, especially when there’s no heat and it’s snowing outside.”

“You can go where you choose, but I’m heading to the bar.” He scooped up his notebook and stuffed it into his satchel. It was hard to get used to—carrying the equivalent of a man purse—but it served its purpose.

She scowled. “Fine. I suppose since this whole investigation is a wild-goose chase, what’s one more stop?” She grabbed her coat and slipped it on. “Any other ridiculous stops we’ll be making along the way? Perhaps you’d like to get a latte while we’re at it?”

“A latte sounds like a great idea,” he shot back with a smirk. “I knew you were good for something.” The glare she sent his way only made him grin wider. He really shouldn’t enjoy ruffling her feathers, but when it was so easy...he couldn’t help but grab the low-hanging fruit.

As they drove to Miko’s former bar, Holden realized he needed to smooth things over if he and Jane were going to work together. Fact was, as much as he hated it, he needed her help and he wasn’t going to get it by constantly needling her. “Listen, I’m sorry about the latte joke. I have mad respect for your investigative skills. And if that didn’t come across when we first started this relationship, I apologize. Believe it or not, I was considered the smooth-talking brother.” When his joke fell flat, he sighed. “C’mon, is this what it’s going to be like for the next week? Shouldn’t we at least try to get along?”

“You’re asking me to willingly tear apart my own investigation to satisfy some gut instinct that your brother wasn’t the bad guy, and you expect me to be happy about it? You’re questioning my skills as an investigator. Sorry if that doesn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

“I remember what made you feel warm and fuzzy,” he said, mostly to himself, but he enjoyed the sudden flush in her cheeks, which told him she remembered, too.

She cut him a dark look. “Keep the jokes to yourself, Archangelo. I’m certainly not in the mood for your bullshit.”

He chuckled. “What a ball buster. Your family must be so proud. Tell me, Fallon, when was your father aware he had three sons instead of two?”

“I hate to break it to you, but you suck at stand-up comedy. Perhaps an alternative career in sanitation would be more suited for your skill set.”

“Ouch. Sanitation...that’s brutal. Are you calling me a piece of shit or just implying I’m only good for cleaning it up?”

“Take your pick.” She shrugged.

Damn, this was gonna be one long week.

* * *

Jane was fuming. If she were a cartoon character, heat waves would’ve been steaming from the top of her head. She hated how Holden had manipulated her into opening this case, when in fact there’d been no true reason to do so. Now if she went to Reed and admitted she’d fallen for Holden’s bait, she’d end up looking like the weak-minded investigator who had no confidence in her skills. And now he was trying to joke? Even worse, bring up their sexual history? Who the hell did he think he was? She found nothing funny about the situation and she sure as hell didn’t appreciate him throwing in an inappropriate sexual reference. If she thought she could get away with it, she might’ve unloaded a clip into his numbskull. “What do you hope to find at the bar?” she asked in a clipped tone. “And if you thought there was something at the bar, why didn’t you look before now?”

“Because I wasn’t thinking clearly after I heard the news about my brother. It’s called grief.”

Oh, good gravy. She had to let that pass or else she’d end up looking like a heartless bitch. “Don’t you think if you had such a tight bond with your brother he would have told you he was in some kind of trouble?”

“Yes.” He nodded but added, “Unless he thought doing so would put me in danger. A few months before he died, he’d been acting really strange. Evasive. Twitchy, even. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said he was doing drugs, but my brother was against illegal substances. We’d both seen too many good soldiers get messed up by meth or heroin. My brother would never touch that shit.”

“But if you were so close, why didn’t you try to pin him down and get the answers?”

“I tried. By that point, my brother must’ve been in too deep and I couldn’t reach him. At the time, I thought Miko was just going through a weird phase and maybe needed some space. It happens with twins—going your whole life attached to another human being, you sort of lose your own identity—so I figured it might be something like that. But it wasn’t, and by the time I realized something bad was about to happen he was dead.”

“And you have no idea what he could’ve been into?”

“No. His work with I.D. was classified, and honestly, I didn’t think I needed to care. It wasn’t until he started acting weird that I realized maybe I ought to poke my nose where it didn’t belong.”

“And what makes you think Miko didn’t know what he was doing?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he did, but he was trapped by circumstance. Sometimes when you’re knee-deep in mud and you’re sinking fast, your first and only thought is staying alive. Maybe that’s what happened.”

That was a lot of maybe. “You’re going to need a lot more than flimsy theory to make any meaningful change to your brother’s file. Unfortunately, brotherly love doesn’t supersede the facts.”

He bristled with mild insult. “Of course not. I would never expect it to, but when you have a man who has lived his life by a certain code of honor and prides himself on being someone you can respect, ignoring the clues to dig deeper is just lazy investigating.”

Did he just call her lazy? The man had balls. “Do not ever call me lazy. Just because you’re having a hard time accepting facts doesn’t mean you get to throw my skills under the bus. I went above and beyond to find the answers. More was at stake than just your brother’s life. High-ranking officials were killed, and I.D.’s rot caused the disintegration of an entire department. I’d say more than your brother’s honor was destroyed.”

“You’re right,” he conceded, but followed by saying, “but my brother’s honor is all that I care about.”

Jane knew he spoke with raw honesty. He’d do anything to prove his brother’s innocence, which made her wonder—would he be willing to lie to save his brother’s ass? She’d have to keep a close eye on him.

Holden might be just as dangerous as Miko in an entirely different way.

Chapter 5

Reed Harris shook hands with his unexpected visitor, curious as to why Ulysses Rocha, one of the owners of Tessara Pharmaceuticals, had requested an audience. Ulysses, who, also with extensive military experience, had turned to the private sector for more lucrative opportunities; and in spite of the negative press incurred by the situation involving Penelope Granger, another high-profile shareholder, Tessara Pharm was still turning a substantial profit.

“Forgive me, but what is this about?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Ulysses, a barrel-chested man with eyes as hard as flint, cracked a smile that looked entirely out of place on his face, making Reed wonder what the hell was truly going on. “It isn’t every day that I receive requests for a meeting outside of certain circles.”

“I can appreciate that. As you know, Tessara Pharm has suffered a number of unfortunate events lately, most notably with one of our major founders, Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, who was found guilty of running I.D. as her own personal hit squad through her association with Tom Wyatt.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Reed said. “Corruption is an equal-opportunity contaminant.”

“Yes, so it would seem. Tessara Pharm has suffered its fair share of bad press, and as such, we would be happy to leave all that sordid business in the past, as you can well imagine.”

“Of course.”

“So when we heard the case involving Miko Archangelo had been reopened, we were concerned how that might affect Tessara Pharm.”

Ah...the true reason for the visit. “These things happen. New evidence cropped up and we’re obligated to follow the trail wherever it may lead.”

“New evidence?” At Reed’s noncommittal nod, Ulysses frowned. “What possible new evidence could there be? Both Penny and Miko are dead and I.D. has been shut down.”

“Let’s put a pin in that question for a moment and draw attention to a question I have—how exactly do you have knowledge of a classified investigation? As far as I’m aware, Tessara Pharm is not on the executive payroll...or is it?”

A slow, cold smile spread across his face, as if amused that Reed was questioning him. That alone was enough to get the man thrown out, but something stayed Reed’s hand. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t just that Ulysses was trying to pry information out of him.

The man cocked his head to the side. “Let’s just say that people in high places have expressed an interest in seeing that the Archangelo case remains closed. People need to be able to move on, Chief Harris. Surely you understand that?”

Reed didn’t like the man’s tone. A shiver of warning played “Taps” on his spine. He clasped his hands carefully atop his desk and waited. Again that cold smile appeared.

“There is no conspiracy,” Ulysses continued. “No big cover-up. Just businesspeople concerned that dredging up bad history will lead to a bad future for their bottom line. Shareholders are sensitive to fluctuations in their dividends. It’s our job to make sure those dips and valleys aren’t too sharp.”

“And it’s my job to make sure the security of our nation isn’t at risk,” Reed countered smoothly. “Frankly, I could give two shits about your shareholders’ bottom line, and you have some balls to come in here and expect me to dance to your tune just because you know a few people. Well, news flash...I know a few people, too.”

“I see.” Ulysses dropped the smile, which was fine by Reed; they both knew it was fake. “I guess it’ll have to come down to who knows the better people.”

He laughed. “I answer to the president. Who do you answer to? A bunch of entitled rich people? I think I win.”

Ulysses rose and adjusted his suit coat. “I’d hoped we could see eye to eye on this.”

“I don’t see how we could,” Reed said with frank amusement. “We seem to be on opposite continents.”

“So it would seem.”

Ulysses showed himself to the door and walked out without further comment. It wasn’t until Ulysses had left the building that Reed let out his held breath. Something foul was afoot. It would appear Holden was right; there was more to the story than met the eye. Was Miko simply a pawn in a bigger game? And if so, who was the true game master? The entire situation left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had no doubt if there was something to be found, Holden would find it.

Reed’s only fear? Miko had already paid for his involvement with his life. Reed sure as hell didn’t want his two best agents to pay the same price.

* * *

The Realtor, none too happy to be out in the blustery weather with two people who plainly weren’t going to be buying, opened the front door of the bar and stamped his feet free of the snow clinging to his boots. “Two floors. The upstairs was the office area.” He looked at his watch. “Do you know how long this is going to take?”

“You can wait in your car if you prefer,” Holden suggested and the Realtor was only too happy to take him up on his suggestion.

After the man had disappeared, Holden and Jane clicked on their flashlights, illuminating the dim interior. The bar had been closed for almost six months, but the stale smell of beer remained. Holden had visited a few times right after Miko purchased it. It was supposed to be the thing that kept him busy after retirement, he recalled, the memory springing to mind...

“A bar?” Holden had exclaimed as Miko drove them to the location for the first time. “You bought a bar?”

“Yeah, sounded like a good idea at the time,” Miko had said, grinning. “What could be better than being the proprietor of good times? I figure I might as well make a little money at the place where I most often frequent on my downtime, right?”

“Owning a bar is more than just free beer, Miko,” Holden had said, frowning. “It’s a huge responsibility.”

“Stop being such a wet blanket. Things are good. I’m no longer punching a clock and I’ve landed a pretty sweet side gig, so I can afford to lose money on the bar for years before I start to sweat. And if it gets to be too much of a pain in the ass, I’ll just unload it. So stop worrying.”

Holden had glanced around the bar, grudgingly noting the whiskey-soaked charm of the place, and he’d realized his brother could make a killing if managed properly. But Miko was all about the good time, not the profit margin. He had thought then that even if Miko put minimal effort into the bar, it’d still turn a profit, which had been reassuring. Good location, clean but not too pristine, with a lived-in, comfortable feel. Like the bar in that show Cheers. Where everyone knew your name. He had looked to Miko, who had still been awaiting his opinion, and said with a smile, “Tell me about this side gig.” Miko had just shaken his head and hooked his arm around Holden’s shoulders.

“First, we celebrate. Life is good, my brother. Life is good.”

As Miko’s voice faded from Holden’s memory, his eyes stung. “You okay?” Jane asked, peering at him. “You look as if you’re going to cry.”

“I’m fine,” he said roughly, heading toward the staircase, then taking the steps two at a time. He detoured to the left and opened the door to Miko’s private office with Jane on his heels. To her credit, she didn’t pester him to share his feelings, and he was grateful. His grief over the death of his twin was something he kept close to his heart and covered with plenty of layers—he didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. The hardwood floor creaked beneath their feet and echoed in the nearly empty room. Everything of value had been stripped from the walls and sold at auction. Only Miko’s desk remained for staging purposes. A small, high window let in cold, milky light, but the gloom in the room seemed to seep into Holden’s bones. A sense of danger clung to the shadows, and he pushed the disquieting sensation away so he could focus.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one keying in on the weirdness in the room. “The mind plays tricks on you when you know someone died violently in the space you’re in,” Jane said, rubbing at her arms and shivering inside her thick jacket. “But even still, this place is giving me the creeps. Can we get on with it before hypothermia hits?” She glanced around with irritation. “I don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

“Anything.”

“Well, thank you for that completely unhelpful direction.” She gestured to the still room. “Nothing’s here. Everything’s been cleaned out, either to sell or to put into evidence.”

She wasn’t saying anything that Holden couldn’t see for himself, but his gut told him that something was here. Show me, Miko. If you’re in this room, watching me stumble around in the dark...give me something to go on....

He crossed to the desk and began opening the drawers, the old wood scraping against the rollers with a screech. A few pens rolled out along with a puff of dust and an assortment of discarded paper clips. He picked up one of the pens and shone the light on the lettering. Tessara Pharm. Not surprising, since it had been discovered Penelope Granger, aka Penny Winslow, was the one pulling the strings. He pocketed the pen and closed the drawer.

Jane caught the movement and moved toward him. “What’s that and why are you putting it in your pocket?”

“Calm down. It’s a pen.”

“Why are you taking it?”

“Because I am.”

She let it go, which was good. He didn’t know why he had scooped up the pen, either. “Where’s it from?” she asked.

“Tessara Pharm.”

“Ugh. That place leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Big pharm companies are usually up to no good, in my opinion.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” he agreed, moving to the next drawer and opening it. Empty. He slid his hand along the edge of the bottom, looking for anything that his brother might’ve hidden, but nothing aside from wood met his fingers. Dropping to his knees, he flashed the light beneath the desk, checking for evidence of a false bottom, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He rose with sharp disappointment, feeling as if he were missing what was right in front of him.

He thought Jane sensed his disappointment, though for a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “I understand—” she began, and he immediately cut her off.

“You don’t understand, and don’t patronize me with your attempt,” he said brusquely, moving away from the desk and flashing the light into the corners of the room.

“I’m just trying to help,” she muttered.

“Yeah, well, help by looking. There’s something here. I can feel it.”

“Great—another gut instinct. Does your gut give a clue as to where exactly we should be looking, because all I see is a sad empty room that’s as cold as a storage locker.”

Frustration built under his breastbone. “Hell, I don’t know,” he said, walking slowly over the floorboards to listen for minute changes. He walked into the small supply closet and flashed the light around. Nothing but empty shelves and dust. He stamped the floor, listening for a sound change. He explained when he caught Jane watching him with a question in her gaze. “When Miko and I were kids, we would hide things in the floorboards of our old house. We were always trying to hide alcohol or important stuff from our old man, who was a raging alcoholic. When he was sober, he was an okay dad, but when he drank...let’s just say he made living hard.” He didn’t know if Miko had held on to the habit, but it was worth a shot.

“How often did your dad drink?” she asked.

“Only on the days that ended in Y.”

“Sorry.” She seemed to mean it. “So what’d you hide?”

“Anything we didn’t want him to sell or break. Sometimes we hid money, too. Otherwise, our dad would drink it all away and we’d have nothing left for food.”

“That’s rough.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s got a sob story, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“How about yours? I can only go from what I know firsthand, but your dad seems like a piece of work. Couldn’t have been easy growing up with The Major.”

“Oh, is this sharing time?” She lifted her brow. When he hiked his shoulder, she shook her head, not ready to reciprocate. “Let’s just focus on the task at hand, all right?”

“I’m curious.... How happy was your dad when you broke things off with me? He probably threw a ticker-tape parade.”

“My dad doesn’t like showy extravagances,” she answered, flashing her light along the ceiling, looking anywhere but at Holden. “And he’d never do anything that gave anyone the impression you mattered in the overall scheme of things.”

“What was his problem? As far as I know, I never pissed in his cornflakes.”

“Are we doing this now?” she asked, annoyed. “It’s in the past and we’re here to do a job. Story hour will have to wait.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and continued to slowly pan the floor. Why was he looking for answers to a mystery that didn’t need solving? Who cares if some self-important asshole didn’t think he was good enough for his daughter? “But here’s the thing, you dropped me like a bad habit all because Daddy said so. Frankly, Fallon, I thought you had bigger balls than that.”

She stopped and met his gaze. “My balls, or lack thereof, are none of your business. Can we please stick to the task at hand, or would you rather pull up a chair and start a counseling session? I should warn you, I’m all out of tissues.”

“You’re a piece of work. You did me a favor,” he muttered, unable to believe he’d opened his mouth in the first place. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“Already have.”

Damn, he was stupid ten times over for bringing up ancient history at the worst possible time. But sometimes his mouth just took over and he had to run to catch up. Sort of like the day he’d taken it upon himself to have a talk with The Major. Yeah, that’d ended in all sorts of bad. He supposed good intentions didn’t mean crap in the Fallon household. Holden’s first real, solid relationship had gone down in flames all because some crotchety five-starred major general had really messed up ideals and expectations for his only daughter.

Holden looked at Jane. “You know, I feel sorry for you.” Jane regarded him with a wary expression, but he continued. “Yeah, I do, because you’re constantly looking for Daddy’s approval and you’ve obviously never seen the movie before. Well, I have, and I can tell you—it never ends the way you want it to. Your dad is an overbearing prick and he’ll never give you what you’re looking—no, begging—for, yet you’ll sacrifice everything in your life for that one tiny nugget of approval from a man who ought to just love you for who you are. And it’s sad, Fallon. Really sad.”

She swallowed audibly and he knew he’d hit a nerve, but in true Fallon style, she didn’t bend or show weakness. “Are you finished?” she asked in a husky tone that immediately made him feel like a toad. What the hell was wrong with him? He should’ve just left it alone. What did it matter what her issues with her dad were? They didn’t affect him any longer. Jane was free to live under her father’s thumb if she chose.

He waved her off. “Forget it. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m sorry...that was out of line. I guess I’m just on edge.”

“Sure.” She accepted his apology with a stiff nod and walked away as they both continued to search the office.

After ten minutes, Holden rose with a muttered expletive. “You’re right, nothing’s here.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Jane said, heading for the door. Although she had a reputation for being a hard-nosed investigator, she was plainly happy to get out of the room. Seemed Jane wasn’t immune to the heebie-jeebies.

Holden took one final look at his brother’s office, trying not to picture him sprawled across his desk with the back of his head shot off. Nathan had said in his statement that moments prior to Miko eating that bullet, he had told Nathan to dig deeper into Tessara Pharm. Nathan Isaacs, one of Miko’s best friends and fellow snipers formerly employed by the now-defunct I.D., had managed to peel back a layer of corruption within the covert government agency, but he’d nearly died in the process.

Holden caught up with Jane on the stairs. “I didn’t see any mention of Tessara Pharm in your report aside from the brief notation about Winslow. Didn’t you ask any questions regarding Miko’s involvement with the pharm company?”

“What involvement? Winslow was the only connection to Tessara Pharm, and she’s dead, which I noted in my report.”

“The last thing my brother said to Nathan Isaacs was for him to look deeper into Tessara. Don’t you think that warrants a look?”

“He said that before Isaacs took down Winslow. Trust me, that was the only connection. You don’t get government contracts without being thoroughly vetted. Tessara is clean.”

He didn’t believe it. Miko wouldn’t have said that if that were the case. “I’d like to poke around Tessara, but first I want to talk to Nathan again and see if he left anything out of his statement.”

“Such as?” Jane asked, frowning. “Are you saying that Isaacs could’ve withheld evidence?”

“No. But maybe he forgot some details. It’s not as if Nathan didn’t get caught up in some hairy shit, too. Winslow almost won that fight. Nathan was in ICU for weeks recovering from a bullet wound to the gut, and that’s no cakewalk.”

“I read the file. Even bleeding out, he managed to take a beating from Winslow before killing her. Impressive,” she admitted. “Nathan Isaacs is a bit of a badass.”

Yeah, it was true. He wouldn’t steal Nathan’s thunder just because the sudden admirable light in Jane’s eyes caused a spurt of jealousy from out of nowhere. So instead, he said, “He’s a good man. One of the best.”

Jane nodded, and it was apparent he’d caused the wheels to start moving, which was a good thing. He’d rather have her working with him than against. “Fine, we can talk to Isaacs, but everything is going on the record. I don’t want anyone using the excuse they won’t talk unless they have anonymity.”

“Sometimes you have to bend the rules, Fallon,” he told her, giving her no such promise. When lives were at stake, sometimes regs went out the window. He’d do whatever it took to get the real answers, and that included twisting the rules into a pretzel.

“You’re impossible to work with,” she groused under her breath as they walked into the main room. The bar was off to the right, and a pool table stood, dejected and forgotten, on the left. Jane noticed the table and said, “I’m surprised they didn’t immediately sell that at auction.”

“Me, too,” he said, frowning. Everything of value had been stripped from the bar, including Miko’s collectible tap handles he’d purchased for a steal on eBay. Holden strode to the pool table and ran his palm over the familiar green felt. He and Miko had played many games on this table and wagered more money than they should’ve because they were both so damn competitive. A smile tugged at his mouth at the memory. “Miko was a terrible pool player but a great cheater. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d found a way to slant the table to his advantage. He didn’t even deny the fact he didn’t play fair. The sucker was always taking me for a couple hundred every time we played.”

“So much for that honor you were talking about,” she quipped drily, and Holden shook his head.

“No, it wasn’t like that. He considered any competition fair game. Second place is first loser. C’mon, Fallon, you can’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“True,” she agreed grudgingly. “But I don’t condone cheating of any kind. If you can’t win on your own merits, you don’t deserve to win.”

He grunted a concession and bent down to inspect the ball return. “Maybe it’s broken and they figured whoever bought the place could either throw it away or have it repaired.” He felt along the track. The balls gleamed in the dim light, a reminder of better times. He pulled three quarters from his pocket and slid them into the coin return, pushing it in, but the coins slid back out, answering that question. “Yeah, it’s broken,” he said, reaching underneath to feel along the underside. The pads of his fingers found a tiny button and he stopped, motioning for Jane to bring the light. “I feel something...a button of some sort. I don’t know much about pool tables, but I can’t imagine why there’d be a button underneath the table.” Jane came closer and bent to peer beneath the table with the light. “You see anything?”

“That’s odd,” she agreed. “Press it and see what happens.”

“Famous last words,” Holden quipped with a grin and she grimaced at his humor. But soon neither were laughing because suddenly a hidden door released and a taped manila envelope dropped to the floor. “What the... Miko, you crafty son of a bitch...”

“What the hell is that?” Jane asked, the cold forgotten and her eyes trained on the envelope. “Why would your brother hide something in the pool table?”

“Because no one would think to look there,” he answered with pride for his brother’s smarts. “Good one, bro.”

“That’s evidence,” she said, moving to stop him before he ripped open the package. “We should give it to the forensics team and let them determine what’s inside.”

“Screw that. My brother put it there. I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because of the way it’s taped. Miko always wrapped envelopes with three strips of tape with a crisscross at the back so he’d know if anyone else tried to read his mail and then reseal it.”

“Weird...but okay. We should still give it to forensics.”

“Whatever is in this envelope is not leaving my hot little hands.” He tucked the envelope into the interior pocket of his jacket, and after one final sweep of the bar, he headed for the door, satisfied they’d found all that would be of use to them there. “Let’s go before we turn into popsicles.”

“You’re seriously not going to turn that envelope over to the proper authorities?”

“Nope. As far as I’m concerned, the proper authorities haven’t done a good enough job to earn my trust with this case. And that definitely includes you.”

She glared, but he didn’t care. “You make it really hard to like you,” she finally said.

He grinned. “That’s okay, honey. I ain’t looking for a dinner date. C’mon, let’s go someplace secure and see what my brother kept squirreled away.”

His hands were frozen, but his heart was lighter than it’d been in months. Finally, a break. Thank God for Miko’s penchant for hiding things. It was oddly comforting to know that even though Miko had changed, some things had remained the same.

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