Naomi Horton - Wild Ways

“North,” Engler put in. “North Dakota.”

“Whatever. This sheriff says he has someone in custody who claims to be one of our agents. That said agent was involved in a shootout in a bar involving a Nevada cop—” this with a distasteful glance at Blackhorse “—a thug called Pags Pagliano and a pipsqueak calling himself Reggie Dawes.” This elicited a huff of indignation from Reggie, but Carlson ignored it. “I happened to be closest to O’Dell’s office when the call was routed through to him.” He winced at the memory. “As I said, Engler and I were on a chopper fifteen minutes later and another team was dispatched to your brother’s place to pick up Honey.”

“Is she okay?” Reggie hovered in the background worriedly.

“She’s fine,” Meg snapped. “I told you, my brother’s a cop.”

“She’s fine,” Carlson echoed. He looked at Meg with a shake of his head. “O’Dell’s mighty peeved about that, too, Meg. You know how he hates it when we get civilians involved. You should have sent Honey to an Agency safe house instead of involving your own family.”

“There wasn’t time.”

“Not to mention the fact you didn’t have the authority,” Engler said calmly. “Seeing as you’re out here playing field agent games you haven’t been trained for, on an assignment that doesn’t exist.”

Meg flushed again. “The only way Reggie would come with me was if I could guarantee Honey’s safety. I knew sending her to stay with Grady was as good as putting her in any safe house. Maybe better.”

“Wait a minute.” Blackhorse held up his hand like a traffic cop. “Run that by me again? She’s out here on an assignment that doesn’t exist?”

Carlson gave him a dark look. “What police force did you say you were with? Nevada? Kind of out of your jurisdiction, wouldn’t you say?”

Blackhorse ignored him. “You’re saying you clowns let a gnome with no field training come out here and—”

“I took the training!”

“—handle this non-assignment all on her own, without adequate backup or—”

“She didn’t tell anybody what she was doing,” Carlson protested. “She was on vacation! It wasn’t until—” He caught himself abruptly. “Hey, don’t I know you? I know you from somewhere.”

Meg had her mouth open to tell Carlson exactly who Blackhorse was, then subsided, recalling the expression on Rafe’s face when he’d spoken about the Agency. Rafe gave her a quick look, seemingly surprised by her silence.

“Special Agent Rafe Blackhorse,” Engler said suddenly. He stared at Rafe in blank disbelief. “You’re dead!”

“You’re kidding!” Carlson took another look at Rafe, staring hard at him. “Well, I’ll be…it is you! But Engler’s right. You’re dead.”

“Do I look dead?” Rafe asked sourly.

Carlson flushed. “I was in the West Coast office when all that went down. I just heard that you—” He bit it off.

“Ate your gun,” Engler put in helpfully. “Guess the story wasn’t true, then, huh?”

“Guess not, Einstein.”

It gave Meg such a jolt that she simply stared at Rafe, trying to remember everything she’d heard about him. Suicide? Surely she would have remembered that. “I heard…” She frowned, struggling to haul the memory up from the depths of her mind. “I heard it was in the line of duty.”

“They always say that,” Carlson said. “O’Dell doesn’t like it when his agents off themselves. Figures it reflects badly on him. So unless you commit hari kari in front of the Lincoln Memorial at high noon with press and television, it’s kept pretty quiet.”

“You’ve been alive all this time,” Engler said quietly, as though not quite believing it. “Why all the secrecy?”

“It was a cover story of some sort, wasn’t it?” Carlson put in with sudden understanding. “And you’ve been working for O’Dell all this time. So that’s why you turned up here, helping Meg.” He grinned with relief.

Engler was still staring at Rafe. “That true? You still on the payroll?”

“Wish I’d known that beforehand, because I don’t mind telling you, I was a little scared of what we were going to find.” Carlson scrubbed his fingers through his short, brown hair. “Ruffio and Stepino have both got their soldiers out looking for Dawes. I was sure you were dead.”

“You’re hell bent on seeing someone dead, aren’t you?” Rafe muttered. “And I’m not working undercover. Agent Kavanagh and I just sort of ran into each other, is all. I quit the Agency cold two years ago.”

“But you were taking care of her.” Engler just stared at him.

Rafe glanced at Meg. His gaze held hers for a long moment. “She was taking care of herself just fine. I was ready to pull out when you guys showed up.”

“But…” Carlson looked from one to the other of them, clearly puzzled.

“Mr. Blackhorse is a…private investigator,” Meg put in smoothly, ignoring Rafe’s raised eyebrow. “He…um…became embroiled in the situation when Pagliano tried to kill Reggie this afternoon, and he kindly offered to…assist me.”

Reggie was looking shell-shocked. “I don’t understand any of this,” he whispered. “You mean she isn’t an agent at all?”

“She’s an Agency employee, just not a field agent,” Engler said with a disapproving look at Meg. “She had no authority to bring you in, and no business being out here without proper training.”

“I had the training,” Meg repeated heatedly. “Okay, so I didn’t complete it, exactly, but I didn’t need the underwater demolition stuff or the advanced military armament stuff or all that pilot or parachute training stuff, either. And, okay, I didn’t spend two years as an intern, playing second banana to the agent in charge. But I found Reggie when no one else could. And I convinced him to come in. And I was bringing him in just fine.”

“But…why?” Carlson shook his head. “That’s what I don’t understand, Meg. You’ve never said anything to me about wanting to be a field agent. And you know how O’Dell feels about women in the field.”

“I wanted to prove he’s wrong,” she said flatly. “The man’s twenty years behind the times! If I can prove I can do the job, he can’t keep me out. I’d been following Reggie’s case from the beginning, and when he disappeared with O’Dell’s money and no one was able to find him, I decided it was the perfect opportunity. It only took me a couple of days to track him down with our computers, and I…” She shrugged and looked at Reggie. “Reg, I’m sorry. I’ve been lying to you, but it really was for your own good.”

“So does this mean I’m not really in custody?”

“No!” Carlson and Engler exclaimed in unison, and Reggie sat down, looking gloomy.

“It was crazy,” Carlson muttered. “You could have been killed, Meg. Why not just put your application in and see if—” Abruptly, he stopped. Frowning, he blew his cheeks out, looking at her sadly. “Oh. Bobby.”

“My brother died in the field,” Meg said with quiet intensity, “and I want to know why.”

“Meg…” Engler lifted his hand, then let it fall to his side again. “Damn it, Meg, we’ve been over this a hundred times.”

She lifted her chin slightly. “And like I’ve said a hundred times, Adam, I don’t believe that Bobby got sloppy. That he lost his edge and it got him killed. Something happened out there that night.”

“I was on Bobby’s team,” Engler reminded her gently. “Nothing happened that night that wasn’t in my report. And I’ve been over it and over it with you.”

“Except you weren’t with him the night it happened.” Meg looked at him evenly. “He was set up, Adam. I know that as certainly as I know you don’t want to believe it. Bobby was a good field agent. He told me that he suspected someone on the team was dirty and you’ve admitted he talked to you about it!”