Page 28 of Protecting You

“She’s an old friend,” Callan said.

“That’s all? Just a friend?”

Callan chose not to respond to the implication.

“How do you know her?”

“We went to college together.” Callan had left in his message that he’d seen Alyssa dining with Dariush Ghazi—though he hadn’t used the man’s real name—and stepped in. He’d assumed this conversation would be about the terrorist, not the attractive cyber-investigator. “Alyssa was at the restaurant with?—”

“I listened to your message. What were you doing there? How did you know she was going to be there?”

“I got a tip Ghazi would be there and somebody would be?—”

“In danger. You told me that too.”

Callan clamped his lips shut. Malcolm was angry, and until Callan understood why, he figured the more he talked, the less good he could do himself.

“Why did you follow the tip?” Malcolm asked.

“Curiosity.”

“That’s a stupid reason to insert yourself into someone else’s op.”

Since it wasn’t a question, Callan didn’t say anything.

“Spill it, Templeton. What’s the real reason you were there?”

Malcolm thought he was lying, but why? “I got a tip. I had nothing else to do.”

“We both knowthat’snot true. You have a kid. You had other places to be.Betterplaces to be, or at least most people would think so.”

The words were aimed with precision, and Callan felt them like a knife to the gut.

On this point, Malcolm wasn’t wrong. The problem was that Callan felt competent walking into an unknown situation to observe, or even to insert himself into danger.

But where his eight-year-old daughter was concerned, he felt utterly incompetent.

He’d been a successful agent. As a father, he was a complete failure.

“You’re not in the field anymore,” Malcolm added, “and for good reason.”

Still not a question, so Callan remained silent.

“You should have told me immediately.”

“I’m not in the habit of running my dinner plans by you. Sir.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

“I’d like to know what I’m being accused of. I got a tip. I followed it. I didn’t plan toinsert myselfinto anything, certainly not an op I knew nothing about. I went to observe, nothing else.”

“You should’ve stuck to that plan.”

Maybe. But it was Alyssa. Callan hadn’t thought twice about interrupting her conversation with a murderer.

“She had no idea who her client was,” Callan said. “He hired her to find a name. Which she did, last night.”

“Which is?”

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