Page 86 of After All The Wreckage
Rory moved toward the doors, and I followed. She used her kit to lock back up, and then made her way toward the elevators with the same calm, smooth stride she’d used on the way there. She acted like we’d just been out for a little stroll in the park, whereas my palms were clammy and the back of my neck was damp from more than just the rain.
We didn’t say anything until we’d made it all the way back to the Pathfinder.
“All the file cabinets were empty, and there was no computer, but there was a printer. Someone has been there recently because the dust on the desk and side table had been disturbed. I managed to reprint the last document.”
She flipped through the pages. Her hand stalled for a moment before she glanced up at me. “It’s a list of warehouses for sale or rent in D.C.”
My mouth went dry. When Monte had described where he’d been held, it had sounded industrial. Roll-up doors and concrete floors. Plus, it had been near the river. Dunn was shot in a warehouse—was it one of these? Was Demi there? Had Demi been in the same place as Monte? Had she known they’d kidnapped him?
“How many?” I asked.
“Twenty,” she said. “Too many to canvass them all today. But we can hit a few, and then I’ll research them tonight and narrow it down further.”
I programmed the first warehouse into the GPS with my heart thudding.
“Is this what it’s like for you all the time? Sneaking into places, breaking into computers, living in the shadows?” I asked as the GPS’s voice navigated me onto the streets of D.C. once again.
Rory shook her head. “Honestly, most of the time I’m behind my computer doing standard background checks or staking out a motel waiting for the money shot.”
“But you do this too?”
“Mom usually took the cases that required more stealth,” she said, and then immediately went on the defensive. “That wasn’t because she didn’t think I could do it, but because I was in school and didn’t always have the time. I could study in the car waiting for some asswipe to show up. That wouldn’t be possible if I was sneaking in somewhere.”
She acted like all of this was normal. Like what she and her mother did for a living was just another job like mine, serving drinks and taking out the trash.
But it wasn’t the same at all. The biggest risk I took in my job was from a broken bottle and tossing an ornery drunk out. I had mixed feelings about everything she did, but I knew she’d hate it if I told her the truth.
If she joined the FBI, she’d be in much worse situations.
I couldn’t stand the idea of her getting hurt.
Of something happening.
How did law enforcement and military families live with it? She’d always be at risk, and that meant my family might lose, yet again, someone we loved. That made my stomach fall.
But I also didn’t want Ivy and Monte to see me never letting anyone in. Never loving again. And God help me, I didn’t have the strength to walk away from her. I craved more time with her, not less.
When I was with her, I felt as if I’d walked through the doors of the Victorian all over again. As if I’d come home after months away. As if her arms were the one place I truly belonged.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Rory
CAN’T AFFORD A HERO
Performed by Night Ranger
As Gage droveout of the parking garage, my gaze landed on a black truck with its extended cab and long bed. It looked out of place on the streets of D.C. Was it the same one I’d seen outside Margetto’s? I watched the side mirror, but the truck didn’t follow us. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
I flipped through the list of warehouses, pulled out my laptop, and loaded them into a database used for property searches.
“When was the last time you went on a date?”
My head whipped up in surprise at Gage’s question. “What?”
He grinned. A delightfully flirtatious smile just like the one that had accompanied his tease about control before we’d broken into Argento Skies. It was so much like the Gage of my teen years that it seemed like we’d opened a wormhole andslipped back in time. My heart hammered harder than it had while picking the office lock.
I ducked the question, saying, “You first.”
