She reread the transcribed message. Even without the audio to accent the innuendo, Jennifer sounded like she was coming on to Wes. The idea of Jennifer so much as touching Wes made her want to kick down the town house door. She wasn’t jealous—she was furious. Jennifer was a terrorist, and she’d do anything to achieve her goals—sleep with Len O’Shaughnessy, seduce Wes, maybe even get rid of someone she perceived as an obstacle to her mission. Right now, that obstacle looked a lot like Wes.

“Can you tell where they are?” Evyn asked, her voice sounding loud above the low steady hum of electronics.

Block said, “Huh?” and lifted the headphones from one ear.

Evyn gritted her teeth. “Can you tell where they are in the building?”

“The GPS on the transmitter is pretty specific. With the blueprints we have as reference, I can place them pretty close.” He dropped the headphones back in place. “Looks like they’re still in the living room.”

The living room. Good. The front door led directly into the living room, so if Wes got into trouble at least Evyn could be inside in under a minute. A lot could happen in a minute.

Her phone rang, and she grabbed it off the narrow counter bolted to the sidewall of the van. “Daniels.”

“It definitely sounds like a meet,” Cam said. “From what we can get of the caller’s voice off the enhanced audio, definitely male. Doesn’t fit the scenario unless Jones handed off the stolen specimen to an intermediary.”

“That would be a reasonable plan,” Evyn said. “That way, Jones protects her identity and there’s no link between her and the person releasing the virus.”

“Except in this case, there is. Which may be exactly why they’re using an intermediary. Could be they’ve been seen together before or fear that some other connection might come to light.”

“I’ll buy that. So who’s the intermediary?”

“No fix on that yet,” Cam said. “And we don’t know how many other intermediaries might be involved. Whoever’s funding this is probably many degrees removed.”

“Invisible,” Evyn muttered.

“Unfortunately, yes. For now, our job is intercepting the virus.”

“What about Wes—Captain Masters. If Pattee gets suspicious—”

“Doubtful she’d attempt anything tonight—if Pattee was involved in O’Shaughnessy’s death, she had to have planned it in advance. The captain ought to be safe tonight, but stick with her until she gets home.”

“Looks like they’re staying in for the rest of the evening.”

“Good—that makes it less likely Pattee will pick up on our surveillance. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Roger that.” Evyn couldn’t find anything very good about the idea of Wes being alone with Jennifer Pattee for the rest of the evening. Wes had proved she could handle herself in tight situations, only Evyn wished she didn’t have to prove it in this one. She totally trusted Wes—she just didn’t trust Jennifer Pattee.

“Got a car approaching…slowing…” Block sat forward and adjusted the video monitor. “He’s parking right across the street from Pattee’s town house.”

“Food delivery?”

“Looks that way.”

“Can you shoot a still remotely?”

Block fiddled with some buttons. “Ought to be able to.”

“Good. Get me a shot of him and let’s run it.” Evyn tossed her cell back on the counter and silently sent a message to Wes, urging her to leave as soon as she could. She’d done her job—more than her job—and now it was time to let Evyn and the others shoulder the risk. Somehow, she knew if Wes received her plea, she’d ignore it. Wes didn’t run, ever.

*

Wes caught the Metro as she’d been instructed and got off at the stop closest to her apartment. She let herself in and turned on the lamp just inside the door. She was transported back to the last time she’d walked in late at night. Evyn had been with her then—moving into her, kissing her, taking her. Wes shuddered, her skin slick with nerves and heat. She pulled off her coat and tossed it over the back of the sofa. Her blazer followed, and she dropped that on the breakfast bar on her way to get a beer from the fridge. She didn’t bother to turn on any more lights. She just waited.

Ten minutes later a knock came on the door and she opened it quickly.

Evyn strode in. “Are you okay?”

“Did you get everything?” Wes asked.

“They’re working on the audio now, but you did good. How do you feel?”

Wes pointed to the beer she’d opened and left untouched on the breakfast counter. “Like I can’t wait to get back to the clinic. How the hell do you do this on a regular basis?”

Evyn laughed softly. “I don’t. I’m protection, remember?”

“Yes, but you’ve been in the field too.”

“I never did much undercover.” Evyn slid her hand around Wes’s waist and tapped the transmitter. “Come on, let’s get this thing off you. We need to debrief—get your impressions. We can only get so much from the audio.”

“Why did Roberts want me to come back here instead of reporting directly to her at the White House?” Wes unbuttoned her shirt and pulled her tank up. “Do you really think someone might’ve followed me from Jennifer’s?”

“No sense taking a chance. This way, to anyone watching, you finished your date and went home. Anyone following would assume you were in for the night.”

“Hell of a date,” Wes muttered.

Evyn carefully loosened the adhesive and removed the transmitter. “What’s your impression?”

Wes sat on one of the bar stools facing out into the living room and propped her elbows on the counter behind her. “She sent a lot of mixed signals. She might have been trying to seduce me, but she was also trolling for information.”

“What kind of information?”

“Mostly about Len. She’s a medical person. Sudden death is something we’re familiar with. But she pushed a little bit where he was concerned—maybe trying to see if we suspected foul play.”

“That makes sense if she was party to his death.”

“But why would she have wanted to get rid of him? Someone would take his place—if not someone from the outside like me, one of the other docs from the inside.”

“My working theory,” Evyn said, securing the transmitter in her jacket pocket, “is that Len started to suspect her. Maybe he overheard something. We’ll probably never know, but for some reason, they wanted him out of the way.”

“Then I’m no threat.”

“Not unless she thinks you suspect something too,” Evyn said quietly. “When you’ve killed once, it gets easier—at least for some people.”

Evyn’s eyes were cloudy, troubled. Wes took her hand and pulled her closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Sitting in that van listening to you with her—knowing you were too far away for me to get you…” Evyn cupped Wes’s face and kissed her. “Made me crazy.”

Wes’s pulse soared. Her whole life had been geared toward taking care of others—she’d learned to be self-sufficient, learned to stand alone. She’d never been so critically important to anyone before. Evyn made her feel like she mattered—right now, in this moment—more than anything else in Evyn’s world. She looped her arms around Evyn’s waist and pulled her in tight between her thighs. “I’m sorry if it was hard for you.”

Evyn rested her forehead against Wes’s. “I knew you could handle yourself—don’t get me wrong.”

“I think we both know we can do our jobs, no matter what.”

“I do. I believe that. But part of me, the part I shoved away a long time ago so I could focus on getting where I wanted to get, that part was just a little bit scared.”

“I suppose every time you’re away, in potential danger, I’ll be a little bit scared too.” Wes kissed her. “But I’ll be damn proud too.”

“Wes,” Evyn murmured, sliding her mouth over Wes’s, kissing her throat. “I should tell you—”

“Yes?” Wes arched her neck, gave more of herself to Evyn’s mouth. “What?”

Evyn groaned, her hands trembling on Wes’s shoulders. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Wes slipped her fingers into Evyn’s hair, drawing her mouth tighter to her skin, wanting the heat of Evyn’s mouth searing her flesh. “I’m so glad. Because I’m in love with you.”

Evyn shuddered. “I’m not making love to you again until we’re in a bed.”

“I don’t have plants or a cat,” Wes whispered, “but I’ve got clean sheets.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Cam turned the bathroom light off before she opened the door and walked quietly back into the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft gray haze marking the transition between moonlight and sunrise, that in-between time when night was all but gone and the day not yet born—when reality dispelled the last lingering dreams. She found the clothes she’d left out the night before and pulled on underwear, pants, and a shirt. She slid her ID into her back pocket and clipped her badge to her belt on her right hip next to her holster. Sheets rustled behind her and she turned as Blair sat up in bed. “Been awake long?”

“A few minutes,” Blair said. “I like watching you dress almost as much as I like watching you undress.”

Laughing, Cam sat on the side of the bed and stroked Blair’s leg through the sheets. Blair was wearing another one of her old T-shirts—this one with JJRTC stenciled across the chest. A few holes peppered the front—spots she’d snagged running through the woods on one of her training exercises. She leaned down and kissed Blair. “It’s pretty early yet. Are you going to stay up?”

“I’ve gotten spoiled these last few weeks, having you around. Knowing you weren’t going to be out in the field.”

“I need to be there for this.” Cam settled on the bed, swung around until her back was against the headboard, and settled Blair against her side. She kissed her temple. In her new job with Homeland Security, she was riding a desk most of the time. She was a hands-on supervisor, though, and sometimes she needed to be in the field. “Your father’s safety is our number one priority, but this kind of incident has the potential to terrify the nation. We’ll stop it—I promise. But media containment is almost as vital.”