Page 6 of Lover
Shaking her head, Lucy stepped into the office, pointing to the clock on the wall. “Shit!” Rand exclaimed. It was ten fifteen.
“Shall I show Agent Landers in then, sir?”
“Yes, please do.” He stood and walked around the desk, greeting the man when he came in. “Agent Landers, how are you today?”
“I’m good. Please, call me Rory.” His handshake was firm and steady, impressive given that the agent didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Long, nimble fingers slid over Rand’s palm, and he felt the urge to grasp and hold on but refrained.
Rory Landers was not a big man. He was about five foot ten with a lithe body. Anything he was lacking in the height, weight, and build department, he made up for with confidence and professionalism. His shoulder-length black hair seemed out of place for an agent, and he had mesmerizing green eyes that Rand thought he could get lost in, given the opportunity. Simply put, the man was stunning.
“Can I get you anything before we start? Tea, coffee, water...” Rand asked, shaking his head, dislodging the random thoughts.
Rory nodded. “Water would be good, thanks.” Lucy was already standing in the doorway with two bottles of water in her hands. Rand took them and thanked her before closing the door.
“Here you go, Rory.” He passed one of the bottles to him, taking a seat behind his desk with the agent directly across from him. “Now, why don’t you tell me why the Bureau is involved in my cold case, and why there aren’t any notes of said involvement in any of the files.”
Rand sat and listened, getting angrier by the minute, as Landers detailed his and two other agents’ participation in the case. “Okay, let me see if I have this right. The Bureau has agents assigned to ‘shadow,’”—Rand made air quotes with his fingers when he said the word—“Taylor Langford, his adoptive parents, and Officer Frank Moore, but there is no mention of any of this in any of the files pertaining to the case. Nor is there any mention of the fact that you—Agent Rory Landers with the Federal Bureau of Investigation—were specifically assigned to follow an officer with the Dallas Police Department, in that officer’s personnel file?”
At least Rory had the decency to look sheepish. “In a nutshell, yes.”
Rand waited, let the silence drag out to the point of discomfort, until Rory was squirming in his seat before speaking again. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He shouted, slamming his hands on top of the desk. “You assholes at the Bureau didn’t think it relevant to note your agenda?”
Landers seemed to be working out exactly what to say in response, his face and posture firm but his eyes uncertain. “We didn’t then and still do not know whether or not someone inside the Bureau or Homeland Security was involved. Seriously, Sergeant, think about it. The case file you pulled when you decided to reopen this case was minuscule at best, right?”
Rand glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll give you that much.”
“Exactly. The director thought it wise not to divulge our involvement back then—or at any point over the past decade until now. Listen, I know you’re upset, but I think if we combine our efforts and skills, we can solve the murders of Emily and Sean Langford. And that’s everyone’s goal at the end of the day. Right, Detective?” The cocky bastard squinted at Rand, and it took a lot of restraint not to growl at him. Buttoned up in a crisp, blue suit and matching tie, jaw clenched, Agent Landers’s posture screamed, “Don’t mess with me.” The narrowed eyes and glint of uncertainty in his gaze betrayed the confidence the agent was determined to emanate.Interesting. I wonder if he’s that assertive in bed....Rand pondered.
What? Turn your dick off, Davis, and focus on the case!He took a deep breath, held it in, then exhaled slowly. “All right, Landers. Let’s pool our resources and solve this case. I’ll have my secretary contact Homeland Security and set up a meeting with the officers on record, Frank Moore and Caleb Knight. Anything you want to add to the agenda?”
“About that...”
“About what, Landers?” Rand was seriously going to lose his shit if there was one more surprise today.
“I’ve been assigned as the liaison from Homeland as well.” Rory shrugged.
“Of course you have,” Rand stated flatly. “I’ll set up the meeting for first thing tomorrow morning. Now get the hell out of my office.”
Landers nodded, standing to leave. “Just for the record, Agent. There aren’t going to be any more surprises, are there?”
“No.” Rory spoke softly, posture rigid, seeming to be in a hurry to leave.
“Motherfucker. So much for professionalism,” Rand muttered, tossing the pen in his hand at the door to his office as it closed. “What the hell have I gotten myself into with this one?”
***
Of every scenario thatRand could have imagined, learning that Agent Rory Landers, under the guise of his undercover alias, Trevor Noland, had been sleeping with Frank Moore while assigned to shadow him? That thought never crossed his mind. He offered to file a formal complaint with the Bureau, but Frank declined. Rand was still considering reporting the incident on his own. Landers’s behavior was unacceptable, unprofessional, and a few other choice words came to mind. The entire situation was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. It aggravated the shit out of him—he didn’t know if it was the unprofessionalism or his attraction to the agent that annoyed him more.
Riding the elevator up to his office gave Rand a few minutes to think. Learning of Landers’s indiscretions was a blow, yes, but damned if the man hadn’t looked shattered when he found out Frank Moore and Taylor Langford were now a couple. Sitting at his desk, staring at the phone, Rand considered calling the Director of the FBI but decided he wanted to speak to Agent Landers first, perhaps get the details he’d omitted from their meeting. So instead he called Cummings, who was assigned to Taylor, and Agent Gonzales, who was assigned to the Stones, and set up a meeting with them for the following day.
Finally, he dialed Rory Landers’s number, a bit startled that he dialed it from memory. But then, they’d spoken several times on the phone regarding the Washington case, so knowing the digits shouldn’t be a surprise. “Agent Landers.” Rand tried to be annoyed that the man didn’t even bother with a “hello,” but he was too damned tired.
“Landers, it’s Rand Davis. Listen, can you come back by my office, so we can talk? Off the record, of course.”
The connection was quiet for so long, Rand had to check his phone to be sure the call hadn’t dropped. “Landers?”
Throat clearing, Rory finally spoke. “About...” He let the word trail off, uncertainty evident in his tone.
“I think you know the answer to that.” Fifteen years working intelligence and secret ops for the Navy made Rand an extremely cautious person. Anyone could be listening in on a landline, so he was always careful how he worded things.
