Allison Brennan - If I Should Die

“It’s fine .” He turned to face her, but she couldn’t read him. “A sniper shot at us today and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I’d rather you were away from here, at least until I can figure out what the hell is going on.”

She was stunned. He was talking about her as if she were a hindrance to his job, as if he couldn’t work the case if he had to worry about her. She didn’t know how to respond, whether to be angry or upset or ask him to explain himself. Or maybe this was why law enforcement agencies frowned on lovers working together. Breaking deep-seated male protectiveness over women, especially women with whom they were romantically involved, was difficult. Yet two of her brothers had married FBI agents and didn’t have this problem. Was it her? Did she act needy or incompetent?

She was missing something. Sean had always been supportive of her career choice-aside from his general animosity toward law enforcement. He’d always stood up for her. Yet he stared at her now, as if egging on an argument. She just didn’t have the energy to go at it again.

“All right,” she finally said. “We need to pick Patrick up at Oldenburg at seven-fifty and my flight leaves at eight-twenty.”

“I’m going to the Lock amp; Barrel,” Sean said. “I’m going to drop some bombs tonight and see what happens.” He kissed her, but it was a light peck, out of habit, without any real emotion. “Keep your eyes and ears open; don’t leave the cabin without a gun. Adam and Annie are here; I’m bringing Tim with me.”

She didn’t ask to join him.

I’m used to people lying to save their ass, but I couldn’t be one hundred percent positive whether Carl was telling the truth. He swore up and down that not only had he not told anyone to take a shot at the P.I and his bitch, but he hadn’t heard that anyone had gone off on their own .

He did, however, have a hand in Jimmy Benson’s truck going off the road .

He said, “I told them to bring me Jimmy alive. They said his truck just lost control and went into the water.”

I didn’t buy it. Trucks don’t just lose control .

Carl was a problem on many levels-he thought he was in charge and he had manipulated the loyalty of the team I’d put together. He’d stayed in Spruce Lake and people here trusted him .

Which was why I couldn’t pepper him with shotgun pellets and watch him slowly bleed to death, however much I wanted to .

People were scared of me, and I could work with that, but until this deal was finalized on Sunday-and Carl had to be alive for the final handshake-killing him was not an option .

That put me in a bad mood .

Coupled with, of course, the problem of the shooter .

I didn’t ask for Ian’s advice often, but on issues like this he sometimes had good insight. We were already halfway to Potsdam to meet my pet cop and make sure he finished his last job .

“Carl swears he knows nothing about the sniper.”

“Do you believe him?” Ian asked .

“Unless he’s become a far better liar over the years.”

It wasn’t solely because I thought he was telling the truth; a sniper wasn’t Carl’s style. Did someone want to fuck up my operation? Killing a civilian would bring in cops I didn’t control during the next critical forty-eight hours .

“The clients,” Ian said discreetly, “could have sent an advance team.”

“Without me knowing?” I changed the subject. “What did you find at Benson’s place?” I asked .

“Nothing that would indicate Jimmy was playing both sides,” Ian said. “But I did spot the P.I. Sean Rogan in the neighborhood.”

My instincts vibrated. “How close? Benson is right off the main road.”

“At the intersection, headed toward Hendrickson’s place.”

That could mean something or nothing. I needed to assess Rogan myself. “Did you dig anything up on him?”

“Not much. He is who he says he is-a private investigator out of Washington, D.C. From what I could put together, he specializes in computer security. Graduated from M.I.T. That’s near Boston, could be where he met Hendrickson.”

Something didn’t feel right. Hendrickson was at least five, maybe ten, years older than Rogan. “Dig deeper.”

“I already have the word out. I’ll have reports coming in tonight.”

“And Lucy Kincaid?”

“We may have a problem there. When Weddle said she worked for the morgue, I was able to track her down easily. Thing is, she doesn’t work there anymore. She left three months ago. They told me she could be reached at FBI Headquarters.”

I slammed my fist on the dashboard. “Fuck!”

“I think it’s a coincidence-she has no ties to Albany.”

“I don’t care; it’s too risky.”

I weighed my options. She couldn’t be an agent-not after only three months-but she definitely knew Feds. If she went missing or turned up dead, others would start snooping .

For all I knew, she’d already called in her buddies .

And if the Feds identified the dead bitch, everything would come tumbling down. All I needed was two more days .

Ian pulled into the Potsdam town limits. “Let’s do this quick,” I told him. “I need to get back to Spruce Lake. It’s time everyone knows I’m back.”

“I’m not quite sure what you hope to accomplish tonight,” Tim told Sean as they sat in the truck outside the Lock amp; Barrel.

Sean was barely listening. He wanted to go back and set things right with Lucy, but he didn’t know how to explain it to her.

It wasn’t her fault that Sean had a flash of jealousy whenever Noah Armstrong’s name was mentioned. Lucy had never said or implied or even hinted that she was more than a friend and colleague to Noah. She had done nothing to make Sean believe she wasn’t committed to him alone-except she’d never said I love you .

Foolish, really, for him to come back to that. For years he’d cringed when he heard his ex-girlfriends declare their love, because he didn’t believe it and he didn’t feel it. And since he’d never stuck with any of them for long, he couldn’t imagine that they were being honest with him, or themselves.

But Sean had known he loved Lucy almost from the beginning. And his feelings had only deepened since.

Maybe it was the methodical way Noah had insinuated himself in Lucy’s life. Like quietly cutting through red tape when Lucy’s FBI application was held up. And there was no way Sean believed for a minute that Noah didn’t have everything to do with Lucy being assigned to him while she waited for a slot to open at the FBI training academy.

However, when it came right down to it, Patrick was the problem. Patrick thought Noah was better for Lucy than Sean, and had made that clear in more ways than one. He’d said as much, and it had festered in Sean’s head like a tumor. Growing darker and blacker until just the mention of Noah-the by-the-book G-man-made Sean see red. He had to shut down, otherwise he’d explode and say something that could jeopardize his relationship with Lucy. He had to get his reaction under control before he tried to explain it to her.

If he even could.

He put all of it aside to focus on the task at hand.

“Sorry,” he said to Tim, dismissing his preoccupation. “Just thinking things through. We go in, observe, see who’s talking to whom. Make a point of discussing what’s been happening. Make it clear you’re not going to be scared off, but that maybe holding off on the grand opening is a good idea.”