Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Yep. See you in thirty.” He disconnects.
I text Tic Tac: I need everything you can get on Calvin Adams. Director Casey stepped down. Calvin is stepping into Casey’s role but absorbing Murphy’s duties as well. I’m on my way to meet him, and Lucas is supposed to be working on it but he’s too slow.
I gather my things, including a coat—it is winter in cold-ass New York City—and shout out, “Jay! Let’s go.”
He appears in the kitchen doorway. “Go where?”
“I have a meeting with my new boss, so you have to be invisible.”
“Already?”
“Someone has to run the FBI,” I say, and I’m already headed to the door.
Once I’m in the hallway, he’s on his phone, about to call for a ride when I knock his phone away. “We’re walking.”
“I have to object. If there’s an assassin hunting you—”
“It’s three blocks, Jay. We’re walking.”
He curses, grabs his coat on the way out the door, and joins me in the elevator with a crowd of people. When we exit to the lobby and step out of earshot of the other tenants and guests, he says, “Kane would not approve.”
“Kane can come tell me himself if he has a problem with me or anything I’m doing. Or you can go tell him, and I’ll see you after the meeting.”
We’re at the front door when Kit steps between me and the exit. “Where are you going?”
“Sometimes I catch killers instead of hanging out with them. And why are you not with Kane?”
“He wanted me with you.”
“Right. Because he’s going to do something stupid, Kit. That’s why he left you here.”
“You have less confidence in him than I do.”
“You have less knowledge of him than I do.” I step around him and exit the building.
I’m a few steps into the walk when Kit and Jay appear on either side of me. “What do you think he’s going to do?” Kit asks.
The answer is simple and gut-wrenching. “Kill his father and walk away from me to protect me.”
“He’d never walk away from you, Lilah.”
He’s wrong, I think.
That’s exactly what Kane is thinking about doing.
My cellphone rings with Tic Tac’s number, and I answer to hear, “Lilah, it’s Rich.” I stop walking.
“Are you stupid?” I demand. “What part of Kane will kill you if I don’t do it first do you not understand?”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want Tic Tac to hear this and freak out. I met Calvin Adams in Europe, and there were rumors about him.”
I step to the side of the walkway, against a wall with my bodyguard entourage following, which is not in my best interest, considering who I’m talking to right now. “What rumors? And why was he in Europe?”
“Some sort of joint FBI/CIA operation. I never knew the details. Just that I was told don’t turn my back on him. I can try to get more info.”
“I’ll handle it. You need to stay out of this.” I disconnect and call Lucas.
He answers with, “I’m working on it. I know you want info on Adams. It’s his time overseas I’m trying to get pinned down. There’s some chatter on the net about him I can’t decipher.”
“I heard it, too. I need details. Tell Tic Tac to text me what he has. Now.” I disconnect and ignore the judgment in Kit’s and Jay’s eyes. Rich isn’t our enemy. Director Adams could be another story, and that’s all that can matter right now, in this moment, when I’m about to sit down across from my new boss.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I don’t actually like the diner I picked for me and the new director to meet, but it’s a short walk and easy to get to. As a bonus, it sends a message to the interim director—there will be no sucking up on my end. If he wants to suck up to me, feel free.
As for why the diner sucks, the service is horrible, the coffee darker than my soul, which is pretty fucking dark, and the crowds illogically big for as crappy a place. Today though, Adams has taken a page from Ellis’ book, and there are two FBI agents at the door turning people away.
I know they’re FBI agents because Feds are pretty easy to recognize.
They look like people you want to hate.
Take, for instance, the two framing the door of the diner. They’re in suits, hair buzz cut—they must go to the same stylist—standing stiff, hands at their sides, ready to draw weapons. They want to shoot someone. That’s just not a likable quality unless it’s me—because I always want to shoot someone—but at least I tell jokes and openly judge people before I just go for my firearm.
I wave off my team. “You’re not getting in. Hold up the wall or something.”
They listen because the badges involved say they have no choice.
I walk toward the agents, and my cellphone buzzes with a text message and I glance down to find something from Tic Tac that reads: Adams is ex-Special Forces, well decorated, FBI for ten years. Followed quickly by a text from Jack: I found out there are rumors about Adams. I’m trying to weed through it all but just know, he could be a bad guy.