LITMIR.BIZ

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explained what had happened, he’d offered to expand their surveillance parameters to include the Harrisons.

      If anyone decided to sneak around on their property, the TacOps guys would let her know.

      She sat at the small desk in her hotel room and spread out her breakfast. She’d taken one bite when the phone rang.

      “What on earth were you thinking?” Special Agent in Charge, Frank Cunningham, her boss and godfather, sounded like he wanted to strangle her.

      “You’d rather I’d sat back and let someone kill him?”

      “You went in there with no backup—”

      “I called Max.”

      “—blew your cover—”

      “Blake Harrison’s the only one who saw.”

      “—could have been killed—”

      “Like that isn’t an everyday occurrence.”

      “—and defied a direct order.”

      Someone else spoke, but she couldn’t catch the words. Uncle Frank sighed. “Jacobs is defending you. Says he’d have done the same thing.”

      “I said I hope I would have,” her partner, Max Jacobs, said. He must have stepped closer to the speaker. “Are you okay?” In spite of her frustration, Heidi smiled. Max was the brother she’d never had. She had no doubt he’d chew her out later, but just like most siblings, he wouldn’t sit back and let anyone else rip into her. Whenever she was under fire, he always, always had her back.

      “Need some sleep.” She yawned. “Otherwise, I’m fine.”

      “And Blake Harrison?”

      “No concussion or broken bones. Wouldn’t be surprised to learn he has whiplash.”

      “Beats the alternative.”

      No doubt.

      “Who saw you?” Uncle Frank’s tone hadn’t softened.

      “No one.”

      “They didn’t notice your car?”

      “Give me some credit.” Uncle Frank’s skills included knowing how to push every button she had. He wouldn’t talk to his other agents this way. No. He reserved this level of tough love for her and her alone. “I left it in an overgrown abandoned driveway. That rain was no joke. You could barely see the road, much less a car hidden in the brush twenty feet off the pavement. No one saw me leave, either.”

      “Can you identify the car?”

      “Truck. Full-size. Dark. Plates covered in dirt. Matches the description of half the trucks in the county. Should have some paint transfer, but my guess is they’ll wipe it down and ditch it. And I doubt they bought it legally in the first place.”

      “We’ll check for stolen trucks in the area,” Max said. “Maybe we’ll get a hit.”

      She appreciated the effort Max was making to diffuse the tension.

      “Can you explain to me what you were doing there in the first place? Or why on earth someone tried to kill Blake Harrison?”

      Heidi snapped. “I don’t have a clue why someone tried to kill him, Uncle Frank. Maybe he’s got more enemies than we knew about. I’ll be sure to ask him.” Did he expect her to solve the case before she even started the job? “As for what I was doing there, I believe it’s called running surveillance. It’s what I do when I go undercover. I’m pretty sure it’s what you taught me to do.”

      Uncle Frank didn’t respond.

      “I was sitting at the edge of the parking lot and I saw a car leave at an odd time. The shift didn’t end for another hour. I thought I’d have time to follow the driver to see if they did anything suspicious and be back by the end of the shift. My plan had been to see if anyone hung around late on a Friday.”

      “Good idea, Z.” Bless Max.

      “The rain was so heavy, I didn’t realize it was Blake Harrison until I’d already pulled in behind him. He turned onto the road and I almost let him go, but this truck came up fast and...”

      “And what?”

      “And I don’t know why I followed them. I just did.”

      “She’s got the best instincts of any agent I’ve ever worked with,” Max said. “They’ve saved my life more than once.”

      “I guess it’s good for Blake Harrison that you followed your gut,” Uncle Frank finally conceded.

      Heidi knew that was as close as she was going to get to an apology.

      “You’re going to have to read him in. Soon. He needs to know who he can and cannot talk to about this.” At least Uncle Frank’s voice had returned to normal decibels.

      “I’ll take care of it.”

      “Great,” Max said with enough brightness to rival a high school cheerleader. “Z, you need to get some rest. We’ll let you know if we learn anything on the truck.”

      “Heidi, remember what you promised me.” Uncle Frank’s words erased all her frustration with him. His anger wasn’t directed at her. His anger reflected his fear for her safety.

      “I’ll be careful.”

      She ended the call, finished her breakfast and took a long shower before falling across the bed. She’d found the cheap mattress hard for the past month, but today it didn’t matter.

      * * *

      The ringing phone jolted her back to consciousness. The clock on the bedside table read five-thirty. She’d slept seven hours?

      “Hello.” She stretched and cleared her throat.

      “Did I wake you?” Max laughed.

      “No.”

      “Liar.”

      “What do you want?” Heidi sat up and scanned the room. Satisfied she was alone, she leaned back onto the pillows.

      “First, Sara would like you to know that if you ever do something that stupid again, she will no longer be your best friend.”

      “Sara’s survived worse. I’m not worried.”

      “Well, she is.”

      “How does she even know about this?” Sara had been her best friend since the first night in their freshman college dorm. When she’d woken up screaming, she’d expected Sara to bolt. She wouldn’t have blamed her.

      Instead, Sara had stayed. She’d kept Heidi’s secrets. She’d taught Heidi how to laugh again. And she’d made no secret that having a roommate with a traumatic past had led to her decision to make PTSD her specialty. She was now Dr. Sara Elliot, a practicing clinical psychologist who consulted frequently with the FBI, CIA and other law enforcement and intelligence agencies. Her security clearance was even higher than Uncle Frank’s.

      Heidi had never understood why Sara and Max weren’t on better terms. It would make her life a lot easier if her two best friends could get along but she seemed to be the only thing they could agree on.

      “She came in to see Frank about fifteen minutes after he hung up with you. He’s the one who ratted you out. Not me.”

      “Well, good. That will save me some time the next time I talk to her.”

      “Seriously, Z. We’re all concerned about you. The Kovacs don’t play.” Max wasn’t laughing anymore.

      “I know that better than anyone.”

      Max didn’t respond.

      Heidi let him stew for a minute. He was worried. Sara was worried. Uncle Frank was worried. She appreciated the concern, but there was no way she’d

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