Page 104 of Facing the Enemy
“So glad you’re here,” I said. “The heat won’t come on, and the building’s repairman couldn’t fix it.” I let him in, closed the door, received a soft kiss, then studied his appearance.
He wore nerdy glasses, probably the same ones he’d worn on theplane to Santa Fe. Baggy jeans, an Astros ball cap, and a shirt with an emblem of Houston Lighting & Power completed his rather disheveled appearance.
“You will never make the hot electrician calendar.”
“Got any music?” He whipped off his glasses as though he’d break into a dance.
“Classic, Gage. Simply classic.” I pointed to the coffeepot and poured him a fresh cup of our favorite brand.
“Do you realize the interviews today?” he said after a sip. “Myra Cummings, Mrs. Reardon, Dr. Zonner, and Jack. The only thing we established is Luke most likely went to his death possibly with evidence to stop Florakis and his bunch.”
“Jack may still come through. We’ll find the evidence.” Gage had supported me from afar while I grieved for Trenton and experienced emotional paralysis. Now I could reciprocate.
“But not today.” He waved his hand. “I need to find my never-give-up attitude.”
“Think about the Addingtons, the Wades, the Reardons, and the many other victims.”
He gave me a dip of his chin. “Could be tonight.”
Forty-five minutes later, Gage finished the installation of the equipment for the surveillance team and received confirmation that both worked. He’d return in the same disguise at 8p.m.
My body must have known the surveillance team had my back because I slept for three hours sprawled across my bed. Probably snored. The temptation to crawl under the covers nibbled at me until I forced myself up. I caught up on email, checked in with Mom and Dad, and before I realized it, Gage texted of his arrival through a rear entrance of the apartment building. This time the jeans and T-shirt were Gage.
“I understand your heating unit has kicked off again.” He grinned. “I’m your man.”
I swallowed my laughter until the door closed behind him. If not for the camera and audio, we’d be in each other’s arms. We chattedand drank more coffee. Both of us admitted the day had been exhausting. I foundIt’s a Wonderful Lifeon my laptop and kept the volume low. The computer screen was the only light visible, although the drapes were closed.
Shortly after midnight, and the close of George Bailey’s reunion with family and friends, Gage turned to me. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
I gestured around my apartment. “This is it unless things change.” Oops. I didn’t want to be a downer. “But—” I lightened my tone—“if I can, I’ll Zoom or FaceTime Mom and Dad.”
“I don’t see a tree or any of the Christmas decorations from the past.”
“Too hard this year. What about you?”
“Christmas Day with my parents in San Antonio. My partner used to help me trim my tree, but not this year. Maybe next.”
I stared at my empty coffee cup. “I hope so.” For a moment I’d forgotten about the audio and visual live streaming to a couple of agents outside. “Have you bought pre—?”
A male voice alerted us through our earbuds. “We’ve called for backup. Watching two men in black hoodies and masks trying to pick the rear entrance lock. They’re in.”
“We’re ready,” Gage said while I closed my laptop.
We grabbed our guns and took positions on either side of the door. A slight rustling from the outer door told me these guys were pros. In the dark, I stared at the doorknob.
It turned ever so slowly.
A faint click.
The door opened and two figures entered the room.
“Drop your weapons!” I said. “Hands up.”
“FBI!” Gage thundered.
The two whirled to exit, but Gage kicked the door closed. “Toss those guns on the floor, or I’ll blow your hands off.” I snapped on the light.
The two crouched low and laid their firearms in front of them and slowly stood.
