“And are you going to share?”
“They want me to spy on Ryan.”
His brows drew together. “Why would they want that?”
“Because they’re investigating Christian Roth, who Ryan works for now.”
“Christian Roth? But these guys are not just any ordinary spooks—they go after spooky things. Why would they be interested in Roth?”
Faith eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t know anything about them?”
“I talked to a few people. I had to call in a couple of favors, and it took some deep digging, but I found out that much. I also got a second call from that big boss who told me—in no uncertain terms—to stop digging.”
“Well, thanks for trying.”
“I told you. I don’t want to lose you—you’re a good detective. But you really have no choice. And it could be interesting.”
“What? Investigating a load of make-believe bullshit. I mean Christian Roth, a vampire? Come on.”
He grinned. “It does seem a little far-fetched. Okay, you’d better get off. Here’s the address you’re to report to.” He handed her a piece of paper. Then in a totally unexpected move, he took her hand. “You know there is one positive thing to come out of this.”
“There is?” She couldn’t think of one, but she was too busy trying to unscramble her brain from the fact that her captain—actually ex-captain now she supposed—was holding her hand. She waited for some reaction. Last night when Ash had taken her hand, it was as though she’d been shot with a jolt of electricity. She’d have expected something equally impressive from the man who she’d fantasized about for the last two years. But nothing.
“You no longer work for me,” he said.
“And that’s good?”
He smiled. “You know I’ve always been attracted to you?”
No, she didn’t. If he had, he’d done a fantastic job of hiding it. “Actually, no.”
“I thought we might see each other.”
“See each other?”
An expression of exasperation flashed across his face. “A date, Detective Connolly.”
“Oh.” She tried to think about it logically and failed. Hadn’t she wanted this for so long? And she might be dying. Didn’t she deserve some fun first? Why did Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous flash across her mind when she thought of fun. Fun and the captain with his immaculate suits didn’t seem to go together. “Why not?” was all she came up with.
He shook his head but released her hand and stepped back. “I’ll give you a call.”
“Great. Now, I suppose, I’d better go.”
“Good luck.”
“You think I’m going to need it?”
“Probably.”
…
Pete’s far from encouraging words flashed across her mind as she followed Father O’Brien through the fourth set of security. What the hell did they have in here?
She thought about asking him but guessed he was probably so far up his own arse that all she would get in response was—it’s classified. Though she had to admit, that all this security was making her curious. She might think they were a bunch of whackos but they obviously believed they had something important to protect.
Finally, when they were deep inside the building and she was guessing, deep underground, they halted in front of a steel door. Father O’Brien tapped lightly and pushed it open without waiting for an answer. The office they entered was big and took minimalism to a new level, as if the occupant had no time for frivolous, unnecessary decoration. With the exception of a large metal desk and four chairs, the room was empty. Well, except for the colonel, who sat behind the desk, hands clasped in front of him. A small smile curved his thin lips but didn’t reach as far as his eyes.
“Welcome, Detective Connolly, or may I call you Faith.”
“Why not,” she muttered. “And what do I call you two?”
“Colonel and Father will do adequately. Now, why don’t you take a seat?”
Faith sat rather gingerly on the edge of the metal chair. The colonel took a small bundle out of the drawer and slid it across the desk to her. She picked up the wallet first. It was identification complete with a photo. She was pleased to see that she was still had the title detective—she’d worked hard for that.
“You’ll have to go to security, get the fingerprint and retinal scans done before you leave the building,” the colonel said. “Otherwise you’re cleared for all but the level-one security areas.”
“What goes on there?” she asked. And why couldn’t she see it?
The colonel gave a small smile. “Once your probationary period is over, you’ll be cleared for that as well.”
The second item was a gun. A Berretta 8000 semiautomatic. She stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and checked the safety was on.