Page 21 of The Agent
“And now he emails me?” she finished, looking at him with wide eyes. “God, Caleb, what if he shows up here?”
Then I’ll catch him.
He bit back the words, instead leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on the table. “I’m sure the police will do everything they can to protect you, Marley. They won’t just let a murderer waltz into your home.”
“Hernandez might,” she said bitterly. “That man hates me. He thinks I knew about Patrick all along and that I’m somehow helping him now.”
“Why the heck would he think that?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head in anger. “He has it in for me, and I’ve never done a single thing to the man. And now he’s coming over, and he’ll probably grill me again and accuse me of sending the email myself.”
Caleb stifled a sigh. Yeah, with Hernandez, some grilling would definitely be involved. He didn’t understand whatHernandez had against Marley, but he made a mental note to ask AJ to get his hands on the detective’s file. Caleb couldn’t afford to lose Grier because of some stupid vendetta.
“Maybe he’ll be more receptive this time,” Caleb said, trying to sound positive. “He must be getting anxious, trying to find your ex, and this could be a big break in the case.”
Marley didn’t look convinced. “Will you stay while he questions me? I know this doesn’t really involve you, but…” She exhaled. “I’d feel better if I had someone on my side for this.”
How on earth was he supposed to say no to that?
Reluctance welled up in his chest. He couldn’t stick around. Hernandez might slip up when he saw him, do something dim-witted like call Caleb “Agent Ford.” If Marley found out who he really was, she would be furious. Most likely she’d throw him out and refuse to have any further contact with him. Then again, she was an intelligent woman; she might see the benefit of having a cop close by.
But he couldn’t take the chance that fury might cloud her judgment. AJ had persuaded him to befriend Marley so he could gain information, but now that Grier had contacted her, Caleb had an even more important reason to stay by her side. He’d never be able to forgive himself if Grier hurt Marley—if he killed her, the way he’d killed Russ.
Caleb’s blood pressure spiked. Marley was still waiting for his answer, and for the life of him, he couldn’t leave her right now. “Let’s sit in the living room,” he said with a small sigh.
They walked into the spacious room, which contained a comfortable brown couch, a huge bookshelf crammed with novels, and a large window overlooking the front yard. As Marley sank down onto the couch, Caleb went to the window, fixing his gaze on the driveway.
How was he going to get out of this? Detective Hernandez would arrive any freaking second. Caleb needed to intercept the man before he entered the house.
Behind him, Marley sat with her back ramrod straight. Caleb wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and offer words of comfort, but he couldn’t. Not until he figured out how to get Hernandez alone before the man questioned Marley.
Tension coiled into a tight knot in his gut as he spotted an unmarked black sedan pulling into the driveway. He started for the front door. Marley followed him, but he placed a hand on her arm before she could reach for the doorknob.
“I want to go out there and talk to him first,” he said.
She blinked. “Why?”
“To make a few things clear to him before he comes in here and starts treating you like a suspect,” he improvised.
“Caleb, don’t—”
Before she could object further, he darted out the door and descended the porch just as Hernandez stepped onto Marley’s driveway. The detective was short and stocky, with a head of black hair streaked with gray, and dark eyes that widened at the sight of Caleb. “Agent Ford?” Hernandez said.
Caleb closed the distance between them, glad the detective hadn’t spoken any louder. “Hey, Miguel.”
Hernandez’s thick black mustache curled as he drew his lips together in a frown. “What the hell are you doing in there with her? I thought Stevens had you next door.”
“He does, but I had to make contact.”
Hernandez looked suspicious. “Why?”
“It was necessary. Look, I’m undercover, Miguel. Kincaid thinks I’m her writer neighbor, and I need her to keep thinking that.”
The detective’s frown deepened. “The department still views her as a suspect, Ford.”
“The department might need to change that opinion then,” he retorted. “I don’t believe Kincaid had any knowledge of her fiancé’s previous or current crimes. But I do believe Grier will contact her again, especially after the message he sent twenty minutes ago.”
“The email sheclaimshe sent,” Hernandez said.
