The landline rang off the hook for the next hour. Jackie’s cell phone too. The only call she’d taken so far was from her mother. When she came up for air from that conversation, Beck could see the troubled look in her eyes again.

“Oh. My. God.” Jackie banged her skull back against her chair. “I love my mom to death, but threatening to show up here and drag me home to Philly is a little over the top.”

“You were shot at and had a sex tape leaked to the press,” Beck said, “and she’s your mother. She’s more than a little freaked out, and rightly so. You’re being targeted.”

I wish mine cared that much.

“I know, I know.” Jackie rubbed her eyes and sat up straight again. “But going home to Philly won’t solve anything. She knows that. She’s just…scared for me.”

“Can’t say I blame her.”

“So back to this shooter. How do we find out if Dikko hired him?”

Work was her coping mechanism. Beck understood. He’d used it on many an occasion to help him deal with shit. Since the hacker who’d done the sex tape might be connected to Annabelle and the rest of the case, they might as well keep looking into Dikko and the shooter. “I’ll hack into DTC’s employee files and see if there are any with military backgrounds. Cyber experts, too.” He stood and stretched, his calves cranky from hauling ass earlier. “Do you need a refill on the tea?”

“I’m going to need something stronger if you’re hacking into DTC’s records from my office. That’s illegal, you know.”

“I have a laptop Teeg gave me. It’s got some funky software that will ping the IP address off ten different towers around the country. He thought I might need it if I had to go on the lam. If Dikko figures out he’s been hacked, no one will be able to trace it to your office, and I actually have decent hacking skills, so don’t look so worried.”

Jackie laughed. It was subdued but he’d take it. “Go on the lam? Ye of little faith.”

“We’re talking Teeg here. He probably belongs in Federal lockup for the cybercrimes he’s committed, and I have no doubt he’s ready to go all Fugitive on Grey at the drop of the hat. He’s like a prepper in the cyberworld. He could do an e-death on himself without blinking an eye.”

“I’m sorry, e-death?”

“The top shelf black hats can redact warrants, BOLOs, person of interest flags, etc., to clean a fugitive’s files. It’s tricky, but it can be done. Even more extreme are the ones who can make a fugitive dead to the government and give them an entirely new identity. Like cyber WITSEC for those on the run.”

“And Teeg is one of the hackers who does this?”

The things Teeg could do were downright scary. “Neither you nor I want to know what all Teeg can—and does—do, trust me. That’s for Grey to worry about.”

Her lips blew out on a hard sigh. “Do you need a desk?”

“Nah.” He grabbed the backpack with the laptop Teeg had provided and made himself comfy on Jackie’s office couch, kicking off his shoes and setting his feet on the coffee table in front of it.

Jackie stared at her desktop, unseeing, and Beck had to bite his tongue not to offer her more tea again. Or a massage. Her landline rang, startling her out of her funk and she reached for it like it was a lifeline.

“Chessie?” She sat back in her seat and rocked. “Yeah, I’m fine… No, no, everything’s okay. Seriously. Beck was there to save me. I didn’t even get a scratch.”

As she continued to fill in her investigator on the details of the shooting, Beck booted up the laptop. Her words—Beck was there to save me—swirled in his head. Everything had happened so fast, so unexpectedly, he was still twitchy. What if he hadn’t gotten there in time? There would be two bodies in the morgue right now.

Focus on the problem at hand.

Acid ate at his guts, but he took several deep breaths, zeroing in on the screen in front of him and trying not to see the replay of Natalie dropping to the ground over and over again.

“You saw the video, huh?” Jackie’s gaze met Beck’s. “Yeah, a hacker is targeting me. I know, I know…yeah, got it handled. Thanks, Chessie.”

Josh popped in and opened his mouth to say something to Jackie, then stopped, seeing she was on the phone. She held up a finger and the kid turned as if to take a seat and noticed Beck. “Hey, your friend is here.”

Friend? “My friends are few and far between these days, but I still need you to be more specific.”

At that moment, a blond head peeked around the doorframe. “Thought I might find you here.”

“Taylor?” Beck jumped to his feet, setting the laptop aside and slipping his shoes back on. “What are you doing here?”

She hugged him and he saw Jackie narrow her eyes. Josh ducked out the door.

“Special delivery from Matt.” Taylor shoved an envelope at him. “I never touched or saw this, just so we’re clear.”

“Absolutely.” He took the manila envelope, eyeing it suspiciously. “Thank you… I think?”

“A little bird might have told me Dikko’s 10-K forms filed with the SEC are in there.”

“Any discrepancies?”

“I wouldn’t know since I have absolutely no involvement in this exchange.” She batted her eyelashes, giving him a fake innocent look. “But I’m guessing the reason you’re holding them is because they contain important information or Matt wouldn’t have sent them.”

He grinned. “Roger that.”

She turned serious. “Ballistics aren’t back yet on the rifle, but the preliminary evidence suggests it was the one used on Natalie Wong.” Taylor cocked her head at Jackie, who was hanging up the phone. “She okay?”

“She is fine,” Jackie said, standing and straightening the edge of her bland suit jacket. He really needed to get her a new wardrobe. Some nice tight skirts and blouses rather than the ultra-boring suits. “You must be Beck’s boss.”

Beck made introductions and Taylor shook Jackie’s hand. “Sorry to barge in like this,” Taylor said, “but I needed to see that he was all right with my own eyes. I’m glad you’re both okay. It was a traumatic event for sure. And the video, we’ll see what we can do about that.”

Jackie eyed the envelope in Beck’s hand. “Please tell me that’s evidence that will tell us who killed Annabelle and her business partner.”

Taylor chewed her bottom lip. “For the record, I’m just the messenger. Matt was going to bring it to Beck, but I offered since I wanted to check on him. Off the record, I think you’re onto something with Dikko Travathian. Keep digging.”

“Any thoughts on who took the shot at Jackie?” Beck asked. Taylor had no doubt been brainstorming on the culprit with the rest of the team. “Any of the traffic cams catch him?”

She shook her head. “We’re waiting on DOT to provide us with access to the videos in that area. At this point, the police are labeling it a random shooting and saying we’re lucky the guy didn’t kill more people in the restaurant.”

“Seriously?” Jackie leaned on the desk. “They think it’s a random occurrence that Annabelle Lockhart’s partner was shot?”

“Because the guy shot up the restaurant, they’re saying they think he’s mentally unstable. That’s all. There’s been no official link between this and Annabelle’s death.”

Unbelievable, but so was the rest of this case. “So I’m still their number one suspect then,” Beck said.

“Afraid so.” Taylor’s cell buzzed and she looked down at the screen. “Lockhart’s on my case. Gotta run. Remember, if anyone asks where you got that envelope…”

Beck drew his fingers across his lips. “It magically appeared under Jackie’s door like the picture of Byron and the President.”

Beck handed Jackie the envelope. “I’ll see you out.”

As he and Taylor walked down the hallway, he lowered his voice. “What’s Lockhart on your case about? Me?”

“You were inside the restaurant when the shooting happened, so he’s trying to figure out if you hired someone to take out Natalie in order to make it look like you’re innocent, or if you really are. His stress level is through the roof. I think deep down, he knows you didn’t kill his wife, but if you didn’t? Then he’s got a whole other can of worms to dig into and it’s making him nuts.”

“His stress level is through the roof?” Beck chuckled at the irony. “Poor baby.”

Taylor gave him another hug when they reached the entryway and he opened the door for her. Cold air blasted in. “Thanks for checking up on me, Taylor.”

“We’ll get this figured out. You’re not alone, you know.” Just as she stepped out into the cold, she drew up sharp. “Director?”

Beck swore under his breath as he saw the man coming up the walk. Great.

Lockhart’s cheeks were flushed, his trench coat unbuttoned and blowing back due to his aggressive gait. His hair was mussed like he’d dragged his fingers through it, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

Welcome to my world.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Beck blocked the door. “I’m guessing this isn’t a social call, but I’m pretty sure if you’re looking for an attorney, you’ll have to go elsewhere. Ms. DelRay is booked.”

“I’m not here for you or your lawyer,” Lockhart scowled. “I was looking for Sinclair.”

Surprise flashed across Taylor’s face, followed by indignation. “How did you know I was here? Were you following me?”

He ignored her questions. “I put a rush on the ballistics for the Wong shooting. Thought you’d want to know that the bullets that killed her came from the weapon Pearson found.” He didn’t even glance at Beck. “No fingerprints on the rifle, scope, or bullet casings. Nothing found on the rooftop except the casings. If there weren’t dozens of witnesses at the restaurant claiming Pearson was inside when the shooting started, he’d actually look pretty damn good for it.”

The Director’s stance and tone suggested he still wanted to believe Beck was six shades of guilty. Beck stepped out of the doorway to stand next to Taylor. “Seems like you could have told Taylor all that over the phone.”

Byron glared at him, but there was something different in his stare. Less defiance. More weariness. Just a touch of…was that dismay at the fact Beck might be innocent? “Watch yourself, Pearson. There’s a killer on the loose and I’m still not convinced of your innocence.”

Unbelievable. “Come on, Lockhart. You’re a smart guy. With all this evidence you still think I murdered Annabelle?”

Lockhart turned on his heel and started back to his parked car down the block. “Agent Sinclair?” he yelled over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Yeah?” Taylor called.

“Get the hell back to work already!”

She gave Beck a half-smile. “Told you he was reconsidering your guilt.”

“He sure has a funny way of showing it,” Beck said.

“Beck?”

He turned to find Jackie in the doorway, papers in hand. He knew the look on her face. “What is it?”

“There’s something here you need to see.”

“I’m off.” Taylor waved and hopped down the steps, heading for her vehicle. “I heard nothing, I saw nothing, I know nothing.”

Beck followed Jackie inside. “What’s up?”

“The 10-K numbers for DTC are totally screwy compared to the tax returns. I’m not an accountant, but Dikko’s either falsifying the SEC forms or the tax returns. Which totally jives with what Natalie told us about Annabelle being uncomfortable with what she found during DTC’s audit.”

“Maybe we should pay a visit to the DTC offices. Ask Rachael some questions and see if she’ll slip up.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. It’ll at least take my mind off Natalie.”

He had other ways to distract her, but she needed to work. Needed to follow the yellow brick road until she felt stable again on her home turf once more. Interviewing DTC employees, scoping out the place, anything to keep her mind off the shooting, would do the job.

“Hey,” he said when they got back in her office. He pulled her into his arms and was relieved when she melted into him instead of pulling away. Lockhart’s warning rang in his head. “I need to be the voice of reason here. There’s somebody out there taking shots at you. Maybe it would be best for you to stay here. Or go back to my place. I can grab Chessie and go to DTC.”

Now she did draw back. “Fat chance, buster.”

Stomping over to her desk, she reached into the top drawer and took out her gun. “Let’s do this.”

---

Jackie and Chessie once again left Beck in the car. The poor guy wasn’t happy with her, but putting him in front of Rachael might spook the already nervous woman. Well, Jackie supposed she’d have to make it up to him later.

Privately.

Heh, heh, heh.

Feeling guilty over leaving the hunkster behind, they’d wired Jackie so he could listen in. This attempt at eavesdropping came with an added bonus. The listening device tucked in her ear allowed Beck to ask questions or make inquiries. Even if he couldn’t be in the room, they’d use his experience and instincts to trip Rachael up.

Either the woman knew her husband was defrauding the government or she was blind as a friggin’ bat. Right now, Jackie wasn’t sure which, but she intended to find out.

Beck’s voice erupted in her ear. “Can you hear me?”

Lordy, that was loud. Jackie paused five feet from DTC’s entrance and rifled through her purse. “Yes.” She kept her head down to avoid any busybodies from inside seeing her lips moving. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, all good. Be careful.”

“We will.”

After all the time apart – and the vitriol between them during her prosecutor days – they’d somehow fallen back into the easy rapport they’d shared on their first night together. Why did it have to take the brutal murder of a woman to bring them both to their senses?

Who knew? Certainly not Jackie. And she couldn’t spend too much time dwelling on it. There’d be time for that later. Once she got Beck cleared of murder, maybe they could give a shot at this couple thing. Spending time together. Learning each other’s habits. And whether they could tolerate them enough to deal with it for a lifetime.

If that’s what he wanted. For all she knew, this could be some sort of twisted attorney-client worship going on. She’d seen it before.

But...nah. Not Beck. A career in law enforcement clued him in to the risks associated with what they were doing. How it might affect his chances of beating a murder charge.

Jackie took the last step toward the DTC offices and peered up at the one-story, squat brick building. Compared to the Travathian’s home, this was downright generic.

What am I doing?

Oh, she knew. The levelheaded, career girl in her had taken a nasty tumble into the land of the stupid. Insanely stupid. Actually, no. She couldn’t even claim stupidity. She’d known all along getting involved with Beck, her client and the father of her lost baby, was a mistake that might have devastating consequences.

Somehow, she’d done it anyway.

Jackie, Jackie, Jackie.

Chessie stepped ahead and set his hand on the door. “You ready for this?”

Did she have a choice? They needed to find a killer and save Beck’s rear. His extremely fine rear that Jackie wanted her hands on every day. And evening.

“Ready,” she said.

Her investigator held the door open for her and she stepped inside only to find an empty desk in the reception area. One red light flashed from the phone, but other than that, zero activity. No stacks of paper on the desk, no blotter, no nameplate.

She scanned the small room where four cheap chairs lined the wall across from the reception desk.

Chessie rolled his bottom lip out. “Guess they don’t get a lot of foot traffic.”

“Guess not.”

He moved to the archway leading to what looked like a hallway. “Hello?”

A few seconds later, a male voice responded with an “Oh, hey. Sorry. We weren’t expecting anyone. Can I help you?”

Chessie moved back and the man belonging to the voice appeared in the doorway. He wore a pair of black dress pants with a pressed white shirt over shoulders that might double as the side of a building. A fact he was obviously aware of given his erect posture and a focused gaze Jackie had often seen on S.W.A.T. guys. The I-will-kick-your-ass confidence was hard to miss.

He met Jackie’s appraising eye and his full lips quirked.

Relax, stud, I’ve got my own hunk.

Chessie held his hand out. “I’m Chesley Morton from DelRay and Associates. This is Jackie DelRay.”

After shaking Chessie’s hand, the hottie’s gaze came back to Jackie. “DelRay. You’re the one defending the FBI agent.”

“I am,” she extended her hand. “And you are?”

“Roane Hodges.”

Jackie repeated the name to herself, hoping Beck was already doing an Internet search on his phone. Roane shook her hand, releasing it quickly and without any suggestive squeezing that told her just what a manly-man he was.

“Nice to meet you,” Jackie said. “Are you an employee?”

“Consultant,” he said. “I help with the government contracts.”

Interesting. Exactly what he consulted on, she’d have to find out. She studied the slope of his shoulders, his thick forearms. Muscular guy.

Like the one who’d broken into her house.

Could this be him? Her mind ticked back a few nights. To the man throwing her against the wall. The wiry muscle.

Different.

The intruder was leaner, not as jacked. And he was shorter than Roane by a good three inches. Still, Roane deserved a look, and a quick background check.

“Got him,” Beck said. Of course, among his other talents, he was psychic. “He’s not on the employee list I pulled. Probably because he’s a consultant. I’ll see if Taylor can run his name.”

“Mr. Hodges,” Chessie said, “Is Rachael here?”

“Yeah,” he jerked his thumb. “She’s in her office on a call. Have a seat and I’ll see if she’s done.”

Chessie pointed to the empty desk. “Receptionist off today?”

“No receptionist. Usually there’s no need. Rachael has an assistant who answers phones. She’s out on an errand.”

“Carly Ingrams,” Beck said. “She’s on the list.”

Jackie led Chessie to the guest chairs and the two of them sat, patiently waiting while Roane checked on Rachael. A minute later Rachael appeared in the archway with Roane behind her. Her protector. Except something was...off.

The distance.

If roles were reversed and it had been Beck standing behind Jackie, he’d have stayed close. Beck would have made sure everyone understood he’d offer support as necessary. Roane? He stood a foot back, creating plenty of space for Jackie to form her own assumptions about his dedication to his employer.

Had Chessie noticed that too? Or was she hallucinating? Hoping for something, anything that might offer up a clue to what Rachael knew of her husband’s misdeeds.

“Hello,” Rachael said in a tone that dropped the temperature a digit or fifty. “I’m in the middle of something. I do wish you’d have called.”

Jackie stepped forward. “My apologies.” Not really, but whatever. “We have a few more questions for you.” She shifted her gaze to Roane then back to Rachael. “It’s of a personal nature.”

After a brief pause, Rachael nodded. “Of course. Come back to my office.” She faced Roane. “We’re fine. Thank you.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll be in my office.”

Jackie and Chessie followed Her Highness down the hall. At the third office, Roane hooked a right and Jackie peeped inside. A pole in the corner held an American flag. Not an altogether unusual sight considering DTC’s government work, but…

Roane.

His build, his posture. His confidence.

Military? Could be. No doubt Beck would find out.

Rachael led them into her nicely appointed office and Jackie’s feet sunk into a Persian rug as she made her way to the leather guest chairs. A giant oil-painting adorned one wall, anchoring a sizeable cherry bookcase that matched the desk. The oversized marble sculpture of a bird in flight was a nice touch, but rather than giving the office a warm, homey feel, it screamed wealth and over-consumption.

Unlike the reception area, the Travathians had spent some money here, but similar to their home, it was more a statement, a collection of material things rather than a love of art.

Rachael took a seat behind her desk and keeping her face strategically stoic, folded her hands. “How can I help you?”

Getting right to business. Excellent.

Jackie pulled copies of the financial reports from her briefcase. “I wanted to show you these. See if you could explain them?”

Her gaze still on Jackie, she took the reports. “What is it?”

“DTC Financials.”

Rachael blinked. “My husband handles the money.”

“Your signature is on them.”

“Well, of course. I’m a partner.”

“Then maybe you can explain why, when Annabelle did her audit, she discovered the inventory valuation for last year had been inflated.”

This revelation gave the woman pause. Gotcha. Explaining that away wouldn’t be so easy.

Slowly, she glanced down at the stack of papers in her hand. “Inventory valuation?”

“If you look at the 10-K form, you’ll see the totals don’t jive with the 10-Q.”

Blink, blink, blink.

“Go get her, Jackie,” Beck said in her ear.

If his freedom wasn’t on the line, Jackie would have laughed at the amount of blood draining from Rachael’s face.

She shuffled through the reports, then shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“The 10-K is the annual report,” Jackie said. “The 10-Q is quarterly. Quarterly reports are less detailed. When Annabelle did the audit, she discovered inconsistencies related to DTC’s inventory. It appears your company’s gross profit has been, shall we say, overstated. Obviously, if DTC is submitting false reports to the government, well, that’s not a good thing.”

Rachael shuffled through the papers again, shaking her head. “I...I have to talk to Dikko.”

“You do that. While you’re at it, ask him how much jail time you could get for financial fraud since all these inflated numbers drove the price of DTC stock up.”

“Ha!” Beck said. “You’re a beast.”

Jackie fought a smile. Really, there was nothing to be smiling about in this whole mess.

“That’s ridiculous,” Rachael said.

“It’s true.” Chessie circled a finger. “Your husband put the screws to you here, lady. You gonna let him get away with that?”

Rachael’s head snapped up, the panic clearly taking over. “I have to speak with my husband. You need to leave.”

Jackie stood, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder. “Sure. Call me when you’re ready to get yourself out of this mess.” She waved a hand. “You can keep those copies. I have another set.”

They headed for the door, but—wait—Jackie angled back. “My client is facing a murder charge. I’m not about to let an innocent man go to prison. At the very least, based on the financial fraud we’ve barely scratched the surface on, I can destroy DTC. Never mind the connection to Annabelle’s discovery of said fraud. Be smart here, Rachael. I’m coming for you. And your husband.”