on, and why was Bristow with the spook? The two formed an incongruous duo that didn’t compute in Declan’s brain. Was something wrong with Gabby that was held back?
“Who’s Garrison?” Gabby asked in a matter-of-fact voice.
“He sent me here.”
“Sent you here to spy on me?”
“If that was the case, I didn’t know.”
They had this conversation without looking at each other. He was frustrated that Garrison’s timing just derailed his progress in breaking down Gabby’s walls. He could already feel her withdrawing from him.
As the newcomers came closer, Bristow called out, “Hey, Detective. Roarke.”
“You don’t work for ESS, do you?” Gabby eyed the man beside the nurse.
“No. John Garrison, ma’am,” he held out his hand. “I work with, rather than for, Roarke’s company.”
After handshakes were exchanged, Garrison turned to Declan. “Have you told her anything?”
“Anything could be anything,” Declan replied. “But, no.”
He could feel Gabby’s glare on the side of his face, so he glanced at her. “Time and place, detective.”
Declan ground his molars at the way he addressed her. It was a force of habit. Turning things impersonal when he didn’t know what the hell was going on, especially around someone like Garrison who could exploit a weakness.
But the man didn’t get to the top of the CIA game without being astute. “Having a lover’s tryst?”
“We were discussing something personal, yes,” Declan informed him. “So, none of your business.”
“As personal as when you injected yourself into a police operation?” Garrison shot back, eyes glittering. “When you misused the ID I gave you for personal use.”
“Mr. Garrison, need I remind you that you are in the presence of a police officer and you are referring to a fake ID Declan used to impersonate a cop. The FBI wouldn’t do that without informing us,” Gabby said. “The CIA, though and I’m assuming that’s who you work for”—her chin inched up in challenge—“cannot operate in the homeland except through a federal or local partnership. Get in line and get off Declan’s back. If we’re going to work together here, you need to fill us in on what you know.”
At that moment, Declan was on Gabby’s side, proud of her for standing up to John and unfazed by the man’s position in the CIA, showing she had the balls and grit to hack it in a profession dominated by men.
“You tell them, detective,” Bristow added his two cents, his eyes quietly laughing.
“Well,” Garrison cleared his throat and looked around. “I doubt there are any bugs around here. It’s as good a place to tell you what we know.”
“First, I want to know what he’s doing here?” Declan asked, tipping his chin at Bristow. He wanted any health crises concerning Gabby out of the way.
“Was there anything wrong with my x-ray?” Gabby asked the nurse. “Did you suddenly find out I have superpowers and that’s why you brought in the CIA to haul me in?”
Garrison smiled tightly.
“Oh god,” Gabby whispered, her hand automatically reaching for Declan’s arm, and he steadied her. “Tell me.”
“Fuck, sorry about that,” Garrison muttered. “Nothing to do with your health, detective.” He paused, “At least not with your concussion.”
“You’re not making sense, Mr. Garrison,” Gabby said.
“Ortega was in possession of a biological weapon that we believe was part of the cache your team confiscated in the raid yesterday.”
“You mean chemical,” she corrected. “Our case is about the fentanyl aerosol.”
“We know that,” Garrison reiterated. “But Z-91 is a derivative of the Ebola virus and we believe it’s been weaponized.”
Gabby’s face paled. “What?” She checked her phone. “There’s nothing from Division except to show up for a field investigator interview at eleven.”
“Homeland Security plans to make an announcement today. Everyone who’s been in contact with Ortega is required to take the vaccine,” Bristow said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Gabby looked at the nurse strangely, probably wondering as much as Declan how long Bristow had been working for Garrison.
“How contagious is it?” Declan asked. “Claudette wasn’t sure because she said she heard it secondhand from her bodyguard.”
“Claudette?” Gabby screeched. “What has Claudette got to do with this?” Her calm reception of Garrison seemingly dissipated at the involvement of her former stepmother.
“Ms. Dumont was either a complicit or an unwitting accomplice to an arms deal,” Garrison informed her.
Gabby turned on Declan. “You knew about this?”
“Not until yesterday.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure until I got it out of her.”
“Oh my god, Declan. You should have said something.”
“That was why I was trying to contact Garrison.”
Gabby backed away from them, eyes furious. “You put everyone who