Page 11 of Forged in Deception

It had been a long day at the lab, and between John’s bad news and Dr. Bajwa’s demands that she sell her soul, she must have stepped right over the edge of her personal limit.

Not that it excused whatever this pathetic breakdown was.

“Hey, mystery lady, seriously, are you okay over there?”

His pitying tone had lasted all of five seconds. Now he just sounded happy to be alive, and she couldn’t decide if that made her more or less annoyed with him.

She settled on more.

The Forge family were millionaires. He couldn’t possibly understand the stress she was under.

“I’m here,” she said, swallowing the last of her sobs.

“Are you planning to tell me your name, or should I just put ‘Mystery Lady’ in my contacts?”

“I told you, I need to be careful. I don’t know who might be listening.”

“Where are you calling from?” Asher said.

“My cell phone,” she said, casting a glance around the interior of her hatchback as though she might spot a microphone hidden behind the rearview mirror.

“You do realize that if ‘they’ have your cell phone bugged, they’ll have your name, right?”

She could almost hear the smirk on his face.

“Fine,” she said, digging her fingernails hard into her palm before she could snap at him. “My name is Karlin. Karlin McKenna.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you too, Karlin. I’m Asher. Asher Forge.”

His cheerful tone was vaguely sincere enough that she’d sound like a jerk if she called him out for sarcasm.

She settled on ignoring him.

“So, how are we doing this?”

“Well, if you give me an hour to finish up with this paperwork, I can meet you at this great taco place downtown. They’ve got a Sunday special. I’ll pay. So long as you don’t eat as much as my brothers. They could bankrupt me on dollar tacos. Seriously. And they’re not those little scrawny tacos with, like, a teaspoon of ground beef and two shreds of wilted lettuce, either. They’re the best. Legit, authentic Mexican in the heart of San Antonio.”

Karlin stared at her reflection in the sun visor’s mirror.

Maybe there was a hidden camera along with the hidden microphones she’d imagined lurking around her Kia Rio. Had she accidentally stumbled on to some weird reality show?

“I’m–I’m in Amarillo right now,” she managed.

The line was blessedly quiet for several seconds.

And then Asher started to laugh.

“What?” she snapped. “What is so hilarious about this situation?”

“Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I just assumed–I mean, did you think I was going to fly my private jet over real quick?”

Her fingernails bit harder into her palms as she willed herself not to yell at him.

“Obviously not,” she said coldly. “But I figured you’d have some kind of, I don’t know,procedurefor handling sensitive cases. Not a casual chit chat at Taco Cabana.”

Asher let out an audible gasp.

“They have Taco Cabana in Amarillo now? Sick! Last time I had to work up north, my only chain option was–”

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