Allison Brennan - Cutting Edge

The wistful angst in her voice twisted his heart. No one should grow up like that.

“I assume your father wasn’t in the picture.”

She shook her head. “Not mine, not Quin’s. Different fathers. So we think. Lorraine knew who my father was-at least his name. I tracked him down much later. He died at the age of thirty-two, drunk. He fell off the cliffs near Soquel. Lorraine doesn’t know who Quin’s father is-never cared, either. She named her Quin Teagan because Teagan was the name of some guy she liked-but admitted to me that she’d never slept with him. I don’t know where she got Quin from. I think she took it from a Bob Dylan song, but spelled the name wrong. Probably on purpose. Lorraine never liked conventions.”

She looked out the window into the dark.

“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories-”

“You didn’t. Today-it was just a hard day.”

“The lake.”

“That, and the arson, and the killer-you said something earlier.”

“About the psychopath.”

He remembered it well, because it had affected her.

“I knew a psychopath once. Cameron Lovitz. My mother met up with him when I was nearly sixteen. She’d always been a criminal, a petty criminal. Nothing more violent than graffiti, trespassing, and petty theft. A few bombs-but they rarely worked. She didn’t know I’d been sabotaging her plans for years.” Nora sighed. Duke didn’t interrupt. She needed the time to tell her story the way she wanted.

“I was just waiting until I was eighteen,” she said a few moments later, “but honestly, I didn’t know if I would leave-I couldn’t leave Quin. I was the one who made sure she went to school, and I taught myself with her schoolbooks. I used to live in libraries …” She cleared her throat, sipped her tea. “But Cameron Lovitz was a terrorist. He boasted of sinking a boat off Santa Barbara that was carrying a high-ranking oil executive and his family. I didn’t know if I could believe him, but at the public library I researched his claim and learned a board member of an offshore oil drilling company had died in what was apparently an accident. Did Lovitz do it? Maybe.

“But I became less skeptical of his claims when he pulled my mother into crazy plans. Setting bombs in new housing developments, planning to derail a train carrying toxic waste to show the dangers of toxic chemicals. Lorraine bought into it. And I was in the middle of it.”

She got up and poured her half-gone tea down the drain, rinsed the cup, and left it in the sink. “Lorraine was so stupid. And blind. And she said she loved Cameron and would do anything he asked her. Including breaking into Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant. Knowing what I know now, there was no way their plan would have worked, but that wasn’t the purpose. I think the purpose was to scare people. And maybe they should have been scared.”

“What happened?”

“I turned FBI informant when I was seventeen. Worked with the Los Angeles office, gave them everything, and they were there to catch them.”

“But they didn’t?”

“Cameron Lovitz is dead. The others are in prison, including my mother.”

“And then you joined the FBI?” It seemed incredible and unexpected, but it fit Nora.

“I didn’t know what I wanted to do after my world fell apart.” She walked over to the counter, leaned against it. “My handler lied to me. About a lot of things, but I didn’t know that until he died during the operation. I hated him, but I didn’t. I understand why, now, but at the time …” Her voice trailed off. “I met another agent out of Los Angeles, Rick Stockton. He’s now a director at the FBI lab. He was everything that Andy Keene was not. And he taught me a lot, helped me gain custody of Quin, helped me get my GED and go to college. Urged me to take psychology because of my aptitude tests.”

“Psychology? Are you a profiler?” It made sense, the way she analyzed where the arsonists took the ducks.

“I have the certification. The BSU offered me a position, but it meant a lot of travel.”

“You don’t like to travel?”

“One week here or there for vacation? Sure. For my job? No. I wanted a home. A place of my own. A place for my stuff.” She laughed at herself, but it was a sad sound, and Duke rose from his chair and crossed over to Nora. He took her hands into his, and squeezed.

“Home is everything,” Duke said. “I didn’t realize how important it was until my parents died, and it was gone. So, yeah, I understand exactly what you’re feeling.”

She swallowed, trying to extract her hands from his, but Duke didn’t let go.

“I also finally figured out what makes you tick.”

“You don’t know me-” she began.

“On the contrary. Do you realize that every decision you make is always about someone else? From turning FBI informant to raising your sister to joining the FBI.”

“That’s not true-”

“Would you have stayed with Lorraine as long as you did if Quin wasn’t in the picture?” he interrupted.

“Probably not, but-”

“And why are you here in Sacramento? Because of your sister?”

“Family. You said it yourself, home is everything. Quin’s my only family, why are you picking on me?” That came out wrong. She sounded immature and stupid, and it wasn’t what she meant, but she didn’t like how Duke Rogan had a way of looking at her as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

“You have a beautiful house, but you’re never here to enjoy it. You work fourteen hour days, seven days a week. I don’t think you’ve ever put yourself first, or factored in your dreams ahead of Quin or your partner or your boss or the damn FBI. It’s never, ‘What does Nora want?’ It’s always, ‘What does someone else need?’ What do you do for fun? Do you like to swim in that incredible pool out back? Do you like skiing? Camping? Going to amusement parks?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them back, averting her gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that I want you so much, Nora, but even more than that, I want you to be happy.”

“I’ve never been to Disneyland,” she said softly. “I can’t believe I’m upset about it.”

Nora should have anticipated Duke’s kiss, but it surprised her nonetheless when his lips touched hers.

It was light, airy, for only a moment. Then he pressed his solid body against hers, his hands wrapped around her waist to hold her against him, and he took the kiss from warm to scorching in seconds.

The heat radiated from his body, his mouth claimed hers, hard and intense, sending a lightning bolt through her nerves. Her hand went up to his face, touched it, and he shivered against her.

The kiss was all she could think of, her mouth drawing in his tongue, his taste and scent wrapping around her senses so she couldn’t think. She was on fire, a good fire, a yearning and need for Duke that she’d kept simmering on the back burner for far too long. The fear was still there, but she pushed it aside as her hands reached into his hair and a moan escaped her throat.

He pulled his mouth from hers, kissed her jawline, her ear, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.” He feathered kisses on her face. “I should go.”

She nodded her agreement. It was a lie. And he knew it.

He kissed her, held her chin in his palm. “Next time I’m going to stay.”

Her knees buckled as a hot wave of anticipation jolted her. He smiled, as if he knew what he’d done to her.

“I’m going to go before I find it too hard to leave. Set your alarm, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning at FBI headquarters.”

Nora was speechless. She followed Duke to the front door. Her voice seemed to have disappeared. She cleared her throat.