Keys.” He snatched her keys from her hand before she could react. “Now, computer. I’ll be generous—I’ll only take one. How’s that?” He grabbed the strap of one computer bag.
She exhaled, dug her fingers into his arm. “No. There’s confidential information on there. You can’t have it. I just can’t give it to you.”
Well, he hadn’t expected that. Her husband should have taught her to cooperate with carjackers. Car-requisitioners. Especially requisitioners who flashed FBI badges. It was a hell of a lot less risky than fighting. If he ever had a wife he’d make damned sure she could take care of herself.
He didn’t have time for this, and as soon as he took her car she’d be making a big stink. Then they’d probably close the gate before he even got down to the lowest level. He pulled his spare weapon from the holster on his back. “Damn, girl. Can’t you be a bit more cooperative? I’m in trouble here; I need to get out of it. It’s for the good of the many. I’ll explain it all after I’ve done what needs done. Will even bring your car back, freshly washed and detailed. Even put a flame strip down the side to match that hair of yours. How’s that?”
SHE could still feel the sleaze of his touch on her skin.
Her team with PAVAD—the FBI’s Prevention & Analysis of Violent Acts Division—had spent the last week chasing down a nasty creep who got his rocks off killing blonde women. They’d caught him, but Al had had the unenviable thrill of being prime bait.
She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was find her car—it had been a week since she’d left it—and go home. Hopefully that home would be quiet and Al could sleep for a week. It should be empty, at this time of day—her brother and new sister-in-law Jules both worked at PAVAD with Al; Ruthie, her little niece, should be with Al’s mother for the day.
Sometimes the job just sucked, and this case had definitely been one of them. She just wanted to sleep the memory of it away for a while. A long while.
The parking lot adjacent to the PAVAD building seemed ten times as huge as Al knew it to be. And of course, she’d parked clear across the level. Or maybe it was the level above? She couldn’t remember, and the parking garage was shared between PAVAD and the regular St. Louis Field Office. Her car looked like so many others.
She kept walking, her bag loading her down. Had she ever ached as much as she did now? She’d tackled the creep and sent them both out a second story window; now she felt it. Had she ever been this exhausted?
Yeah, back when her brother and Jules had been kidnapped at Thanksgiving three months ago.
And then again when her partner Paige and Jules were in the hands of that same madman; a madman who’d once been Al’s friend. She had been one of the searchers tirelessly hunting for the people she loved. They’d found them, but she would never forget those few days.
She found it in the back corner of the level. What had she been thinking when she’d parked there? Carrie, her team leader’s wife and one of Al’s closest friends, was getting out of her own SUV directly next to Al’s car. She thought about calling out to her friend, but she was just way too tired; Carrie hadn’t seen her yet. They’d eventually pass each other. So why call out?
Sebastian was right there. Right behind his wife. How had he beaten Al out of the building? When she’d left the bullpen, he’d been in his office half-buried under reams of paperwork. Their cases generated a lot of crap paperwork.
A week away from Carrie had probably made him antsy for his wife. They’d not even been married six months, and Al suspected they’d spent almost as much time apart as they had together. It was the nature of the job.
Carrie Lorcan was one heck of a lucky woman. Something Al had thought many times before. Al loved Carrie’s husband, too—he was probably one of the closest friends she’d ever had. She watched the couple for a moment, feeling that bit of envy and loneliness that had been plaguing her for a while. Since Thanksgiving, at least, when her oldest brother Malachi and Jules had first gotten together. In the weeks since, Al had felt a bit rootless. Edgy. And she couldn’t shake