Page 12 of The Wickedness of Man

“Office,” I rasped.

“Where the hell have you been, man? She left thirty minutes ago, headed in your direction, and you’re not answering your goddamn phone. Do you have eyes on her?”

I sat bolt upright, blinking as I scrambled to the window. “It’s Saturday. Why would she be at the office on a Saturday?” I asked without thinking, more to myself than to the other agent.

Clearly not noticing the rhetorical nature of my comment or choosing to chastise me further, he scoffed in a gruff voice, “I don’t know. Just confirm if you have her in your sights.”

I rubbed my face and peeked through the blinds before pulling the phone away from my face and checking the time. 2:45 p.m.? Fuck, I’d been passed out all day. There were about a dozen texts from Home, each growing more agitated.

I studied the car park, which was largely uncovered, except for one portion that had a small underground parking garage. During the week, the doctor tended to park in an assigned spot near the front doors of her building—probably since it would be closest to the elevators to her eighth-floor office space, but she’d never been here on a weekend before, from what our intel had mentioned, so perhaps she’d choose the covered garage? I scoured the lot, but then frowned.

“I don’t see her car—could be in the garage. Hold on a second, I’ll check upstairs.”

Some fucking day off this is, I thought with a frown

I put the call on speaker and picked up my telephoto lens, then peered through it, dragging my gaze painstakingly, inch by inch, across the eighth floor. I had to stop and rub my eyes, which were stinging in the blinding bright of the midafternoon sun. On the table, the phone call went dead. I cursed, then dialed Home’s number. I searched until I spotted her office in the corner closest to the street—a room where the blinds were always open.

“Agent, are you there?” asked Home.

“Yeah, still checking,” I mumbled, scanning through the lens. “Think the call dropped.”

“It what?”

I ignored him, focused with every bit of attention I had on the narrow circle of vision through my camera. The lights were on in her office, and although the glass was somewhat tinted, due tothe gloomy cloud cover outside threatening rain, I could see a bit clearer inside. The doctor sat behind her desk, her back to me, blonde hair piled high in a bun as she appeared to write furiously on some kind of document in front of her. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Got eyes on her. In the office. Looks like maybe… paperwork?”

“The fuck?” Home said. “Goddammit! Okay, keep on her. Let me know if?—”

“Hang on,” I said, moving my lens to the front of the building.

A small sedan was pulling into the spots by the front door.

“Someone’s here—a car just arrived.”

“What?” demanded Home. “Who’s there?”

Out of the passenger side of the car stepped a young woman, and even from my distant vantage point through the lens I could tell that she was gorgeous. Long black hair; big gray eyes. She wore a baggy, oversized sweater with a cat on it and bent down to speak to the driver. A laugh—I couldn’t hear it, of course, but as she stood and I saw the smile lighting up her face, I felt such a longing for her that I couldn’t even swallow for a moment. I trembled as I watched her.

There she is.

There’s my woman.

Distantly aware that Home was still yelling at me through the phone, I tried to shake myself out of the hangover, or whatever the fuck was going on. My lower abdomen was flaring to life with heat as she tucked her long hair behind an ear and waved to the driver. Even her baggy sweater couldn’t hide the curves of her body from me. I imagined my hands on her hips, on her breasts.

“Agent—who is there?” Home demanded.

“A… a woman,” I managed finally. “Getting dropped off. The car’s leaving, but she’s heading inside.” I watched her walkthrough the double doors at the bottom. I could feel my pulse beating in my cock now.

“Shit,” said Home. I could hear him pacing in whatever room he was in. “This is a big fuck up. She’s supposed to meet our man today, or she was.”

“She canceled?”

“Look, I don’t know. Just be cool, hear me? Last thing I fucking need,” Home groused, cursing under his breath. “I’ve gotta call this into the org.”

“Maybe she works there?” I offered.

“Whodoes?” spat Home. “What lady? You didn’t…”

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