“I’m fine. How’d you get this number?”
He laughed. “Do you really want to know?”
Shaking her head, since the technology to strip the number on her cell was illegal, she declined. “No, really, I don’t.”
“That was better. You sounded better when you laughed. Did something happen?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Agent Burton.” Gates switched to the more formal. “I may not know you well, but the woman who…chatted…with me on Friday night and traded barbs with my boss this morning doesn’t answer the phone the way you did just now.” Someone must be listening for him to be so cagey, but it warmed her that he mentioned their call.
Ana sighed. She hated showing any weakness, but she’d already decided to call Gates, tell him about the incident in case it was connected to her meeting with Dav.
“Well, Mister Bromley.” Ana returned the favor of formality. “My car was targeted as I returned to the building, and our computers were hit by a hacker at exactly the same time. Think it might have anything to do with my visit this morning?”
“Targeted?” Gates latched onto the word. “What do you mean?”
Ana’s gut clenched at the sharp worry in his voice. “Someone took a shot at me.”
“Damn it!” He cursed viciously. “Where? Any details? Wait,” he snapped before she could answer the first questions. “You got hacked too? Man, what a sucky day for you.”
“Yes to all of the above.” Admitting it made her feel a hundred years old. She could feel tears threatening again at the warmth of his sympathy. “I barely wrapped my mind around the shot when I walked into the hacking situation. It’s been a hell of an afternoon.”
“Tell me about it,” he said. His velvety voice was warm and reassuring, which, if she’d been sharper, would probably have set off alarm bells. Or, her reaction to it would have, at least. As hot as he was, her reaction to him was out of proportion. She wanted to worry about it, but she was too tired. Instead, just for now, she simply appreciated it. “I’m sorry, Ana. How about a meal and a glass of wine?”
That did set off alarm bells. “Beg pardon?”
He laughed in that velvet voice, and once again, she could almost feel the sensuous sweep of his hand at her back, the whisper of his breath on her skin. “Just dinner, Ana. I’d like to get the details of your misadventure. The fact that you were…what did you call it? Targeted. Yes. Interesting terminology. The fact that you were targeted after you left here is a huge concern for me. On the hacking, were they aiming for your files, do you know? Or was it a random attack?”
“We don’t know yet.” Ana let her head fall back onto the high-backed office chair. “No rhyme or reason to either. Or both. Not yet. There are enough issues that I’m embroiled in to keep IAD busy checking leads for a week.”
“They’re already on it?” He sounded surprised.
“Yeah, because it’s me. I’ve been in some trouble. That’s why I’m on cold cases,” she admitted. “But, on the shot and the hack, it may not be me. Like I told IAD, there are a lot of people who drive a vehicle like mine. Any one of them could be the target. The hack? There are fifteen other agents working cases in this division, most of them active, unlike what I’m doing.” She closed her eyes, wishing she knew more, felt less. “Any one of their cases could have triggered the hack.”
“Hmmm. I’m not hearing a lot of conviction in your voice about those options.” He let silence fall between them for a moment. Then he used his sexy voice at its most persuasive. “I think it sounds like dinner’s just the thing you need. Want me to pick you up at the building, or at home?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Had she agreed to dinner? She didn’t remember agreeing.
“Dinner. A meal. A discussion. You did your homework, Ana,” he said. “You know what my specialty is. If you have any more info on the hack, I may be able to help. We can also run some probabilities between us, as to whether the targeting is related to Dav.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Gates,” she prevaricated. Part of her really wanted someone—no, scratch that; not just anyone, Gates—to take her to dinner, make sure she got home. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to drive anyway.
Her car. Crap, she wasn’t going home