said.
“Yeah, but she’s been like that for weeks.” Shah flipped his pen and let it fall. “Something about her boyfriend is sick. I don’t know. You know how she is.”
Amanda sighed. “Like a vault.”
***
Hagan still couldn’t pinpoint when Amanda had changed. The taxi pushed through the throng of shoppers and tourists crossing from M Street to Wisconsin. Hagan hadn’t spent much time in DC but sensed this wasn’t his neighborhood. The location didn’t strike him as reflective of Amanda. Part of him wanted to shrug it off, questioning what did he know about her anyway? She’d transformed into the ice queen he first met somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. This could just be who she was. But the other part of him shouted for him to look down.
Ice queen or not, she had a death grip on his hand. The woman he’d first met wouldn’t do that, and not for the first time, he understood that he didn’t know nearly enough to make assumptions. “You’re a Georgetown girl?”
“You can turn there,” she directed the driver, then added, “It’s what I know.”
“Did you grow up around here?”
She licked her lip. “Sort of.”
Hagan clamped his jaw and waited. A new nugget of information always followed, but his patience was waning. The shrouded mystery act had lost its appeal mid-flight. This was a woman he could fall in love with. Hell, maybe he had. But Hagan only knew what she allowed. Did that make a difference? What did it matter where she’d grown up? It didn’t. Except that it apparently did.
“Where’d you go to school?”
Amanda dug into her purse and removed a rubber band, then tied her hair into a ponytail so tight he was sure it’d hurt. “Washington College.”
Her clammy hand returned to his, and she closed her eyes. “Do you get car sick?”
“No.”
“I grew up in Florida. Near Alabama. We lived in a beach house on Perdido Bay.” The past trembled in her voice. Slowly, she opened her eyes. “I thought I was a mermaid until second grade.”
Hagan rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and tried to imagine a carefree Amanda as a kid who believed in magic and fairytales. “What happened?”
“My mom’s a science professor.” She laughed, and whatever memory had crossed her mind allowed for a smile to warm her face. “She’d only let that go on for so long before explaining DNA.”
Hagan chuckled. “Fish and people don’t mix.”
“That, and she sprung the birds and the bees on me around the same time.”
“My mom and dad couldn’t keep their hands off each other.” Hagan squinted and made a face. “And my brother was way older than me. He gave me the rundown. Not scientific in any way.”
Her grip relaxed, then Amanda leaned forward. “There’s an alley at the end of the block. You can drop us off there. It’ll give you an easier way to avoid one-way streets.”
The driver thanked them and eased off the gas.
“I grew up in Kentucky,” he volunteered.
She didn’t balk.
“Louisville,” he continued.
Amanda settled against him. “I’ve heard that’s a magical place.”
Hagan snorted. “It’s something, all right. No mermaids, though.”
“I know we need to talk about work.” She rested her chin on his shoulder. “But I want to talk about this stuff, too.”
Perdido Bay and mermaids, the kind of details he needed. But he’d been wrong. He wanted to know more, but she was the good stuff. Having her against his arm was what he needed. He needed to keep her there, safe and sound. “I want to figure out what happened in Lebanon, and then we can take all the time you need.”
“Thanks.” Her shiny eyes blinked quickly, then she straightened. “This is good. Right here.”
The taxi stopped between two dumpsters. The deteriorating backside of mid-rise brick apartment buildings wasn’t what he expected after cruising Georgetown’s posh streets. But that was life. Perspectives changed. The view wasn’t always the same. Hagan swiped his credit card as the driver popped the trunk. Amanda hopped out.
“You need a receipt?” the driver asked.
“No, sir.” Hagan returned the card to his wallet. “We’re good. Thanks.” He joined Amanda in the narrow alley, took his suitcase out, and shut the trunk. The driver let off the brakes, and Hagan took her suitcase as well and followed Amanda while scrutinizing the alley. Large dumpsters aside, it was open and allowed for a clean line of sight in both directions.
They stopped under an awning. “This is it.” Her fingers swept over the security box, punching a long code. The door clicked, and