Chapter Twenty-Seven
Quinn took another sip of tepid coffee. It tasted awful, but it was caffeinated, which was all that mattered. She’d grabbed a few hours of sleep during their flight, using James’s shoulder as a pillow, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Her eyes were dry and gritty.
She sat across the table from Aldous Meyers in a conference room inside CIA headquarters and watched him jot another note on his yellow legal pad. When he finished, he looked up at her. His eyes were as red as hers. It was little wonder, given her debriefing had begun at 4:00 A.M.
“Were you planning on helping Fitzhugh decipher the locations of the missiles?”
“Not if I could help it. James warned me Fitzhugh wouldn’t let us go once he knew. Plus, my idea was to feed him enough hints for him to eventually figure it out, but have him take long enough that you could locate the missiles and put each installation under surveillance until Fitzhugh showed up at one. Then you could take him into custody for unauthorized possession of nuclear material.” She shrugged. “Or whatever laws he’d be breaking.”
“Catch him in the act as it were.”
“Right. But since I shot him, the point might be moot.” Her gaze dropped to the scrawl-covered pad. “He’s not, um, dead, is he?”
“No. Our sources indicate he’s recovering from surgery and is in good condition. He told the local constabulary you and James invaded his home to rob him and shot him in the process.”
Fitzhugh had shot at her, so her returning fire was justified. Still, she was relieved to know she hadn’t killed him. She gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry I mucked up the plan.”
He waved off her apology. “You did what you had to do. And you didn’t muck it up. It may push back the time line a bit, but it gives us that much more time to implement your plan.”
Her plan.
Meyers glanced down at his notepad. “I think we’ve covered everything.” Looking at her again, he asked, “Are there any other details about Fitzhugh, his people, or home you’d like to add?”
“Not at the moment, other than he had a pretty cool library. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“Fine. You have my e-mail.” He screwed the cap on his pen and set it on the notepad. “You are not to discuss any of this with anyone, not even your immediate family—your parents, your brothers, no one. No one can know the true nature of James’s occupation, what his business was in Los Angeles, or the events in London. The nondisclosure agreement you signed remains in effect in perpetuity.”
“I understand. I won’t say a word to anyone.” Then it hit her. Her adventure had come to an end. She couldn’t even contemplate what that meant for her and James’s budding relationship. She swallowed down her swelling sadness and said, “I guess it’s time for me to go home.” The thumb of one hand rubbed into the palm of the other. “I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but you think you could get me a ride the rest of the way?”
“We already have seats on a commercial flight booked for you and your escort. It’s scheduled to leave for LAX in a couple of hours.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. “My escort?”
“With Fitzhugh and his people still at large, there remains the risk they could come after you. A twenty-four/seven security detail is in place for your protection until the matter is resolved.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” Her pulse quickened. “Will James be a member of my detail?”
“Jurisdictional considerations dictate your protection be carried out by the FBI.”
The attempt to hide her disappointment with a smile was a complete failure. “Thank you for looking out for my safety.”
“It’s the least we can do.” Meyers stood and tucked the notepad under his arm. “James will escort you from the building and hand you off to the FBI. There are special agents waiting to drive you to the airport.”
She rose from her chair and slipped on the oversized coat she’d borrowed from Ben’s closet before they left London. “Great. Thank you,” she said and shook the hand he offered.
“You’re welcome.” He released her hand and opened the door. “Anderson, you’re up,” he said to James waiting in the corridor. Meyers turned and walked down the hall.
James was at her side in a flash. “How’d it go?”
“Fine. Told him everything I knew. He admonished me to keep my mouth shut about this in perpetuity.” She lifted a shoulder. “About what I expected.”
“Good. I’m glad it wasn’t so bad.” They left the conference room and as they walked the corridor, James took her hand and laced their fingers together. “And now I have the honor of walking you out.” His tone was cheery and his smile encouraging. But they couldn’t mask the sadness lurking behind his eyes. “Just so you know, I volunteered to escort you to L.A. and be a part of your security team.” He breathed a quiet laugh. “Actually, I requested to be your full-time bodyguard.”
She smiled.
“But they denied my request because of—”
“Jurisdictional considerations,” she finished for him.
“Yeah. And I need to be here and work on bringing Fitzhugh down.”
“I understand. I have to get back to work, too.”
They turned the corner and walked to security. Once her bag was scanned, she signed out and turned in her visitor badge. As they walked through the empty lobby, Quinn glanced at the Memorial Wall where stars were carved in the marble honoring agency employees who died in the line of service. One of those stars was for Claire. She felt a profound sense of respect for the woman who gave her life serving her country. At the same time, her heart ached for those, James included, who grieved her loss. On the chance he, too, was thinking of his fallen partner, she squeezed his hand. Together, they walked across the iconic CIA seal inlayed in the floor and out the door.
The sky was still dark and the air was cold and miserable. It perfectly mirrored Quinn’s mood.
They walked a short distance to the parking lot where two men in dark overcoats stood stoically next to a black SUV. The shorter and slightly older of the two stepped forward and offered a gloved handshake. “Ms. Ellington. I’m Special Agent Turner. I’ll be your escort to Los Angeles.”
“Nice to meet you.”
James used only his first name when he introduced himself. “I need a couple more minutes with Ms. Ellington.”
“Certainly.” Special Agent Turner returned to his position next to the vehicle and clasped his hands in front of him.
James led Quinn a short distance away and into the shadows. He faced her and held both of her hands in his. “This sucks.” Their breaths mingled in the frigid air like puffs of smoke.
“It really does.” She gazed into his face and blinked at the stinging tears. “Will we see each other again?”
“Do you want us to?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I’d have a hard time staying away since I’m in love with you.”
Her jaw dropped.
He stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms. “It’s true. I love you.” His gaze held hers for a brief moment before he lowered his head and kissed her.
She closed her eyes and drank him in, memorizing the way his lips moved over hers, the feeling of his arms holding her, the myriad powerful emotions behind that kiss.
He loved her.
She broke the kiss and rested her palm on his cheek. “I love you, too.”
She smashed her mouth on his. It was the fiercest, deepest, most passionate kiss they’d ever shared, one that indelibly branded the moment on Quinn’s heart.
As much as she wanted to stay like that forever, reality pushed its way in when one of the special agents cleared his throat. She reluctantly pulled back and blew a sigh. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
“How is this going to work? We live on opposite sides of the country.”
“We’ll figure it out. I mean, I could leave torrid love notes in the secret drawer of an antique clock, but I think the Internet might work better.”
Grinning, she cut her eyes up at him. “Smart aleck.”
He gave her one more kiss before releasing her. Arm in arm, they sauntered toward the awaiting SUV.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said. “A lot.”
“I’m going to miss you, too.”
As they drew closer, Special Agent Turner pulled open the door to the backseat.
“Let me know how things are going along the way home. I can’t have my cell phone inside the building, but I’ll check it as often as I can.”
“I will.” She gave him one final kiss and whispered, “I love you.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, too.”
She nodded, gritted her teeth, and broke away. She climbed into the SUV and gave James a little wave. Her throat constricted. “Bye,” she croaked.
James’s smile faltered as he raised a hand. “Bye.”
Special Agent Turner shut the door and took his place in the seat in front of her.
The SUV pulled away from the curb. Quinn kept her gaze pinned on James until the vehicle turned a corner and he was no longer in sight. She faced forward, sniffed, and rubbed her fingers over her wet eyes.
Now she’d really gone and done it.
She’d fallen in love with a spy.