Embracing Midnight (8 page)

“We’re open to suggestions,” Reinke said.

Faber thought a moment. “So far as I have ascertained, Agent Whitten is the one who’s gotten closest to Drake. I think we should encourage this connection.” His unblinking gaze settled on Callie. “I am going to assume you were given no way to contact this man, that the meeting was entirely of his time and choosing.”

Callie wiggled a little. “He seems to be working on his own timetable, sir.”

Faber continued. “You stated earlier you were somewhat intimate with Drake. Did you find this disagreeable?”

The men around her had fallen deathly silent. Surely Faber wasn’t going to suggest…No! It seemed too outrageous that he’d even consider the idea.

She decided to hedge. “Considering I was faced with a man known to be dangerous, I found myself a bit uncomfortable in his company.”

“Yet you were able to make small talk, and share in some level of intimacy?” Faber asked.

Callie nodded.

“Please speak up for the tape recorder, Agent Whitten.”

She cleared her throat. “During the time we spent together, the suspect conducted himself in a pleasant and appealing manner. As a woman, I found him attractive in a curious sort of way.”

Roger Reinke’s face brewed a sudden thundercloud of jealousy. By the look on his face he clearly wasn’t happy with the direction Faber’s line of questioning was taking.

Callie gave a quick shake of her head.
No, not now.
He quelled his anger before the rest of the agents noticed it.

Faber’s thick fingers tapped the tabletop. “Good. Then you had no objection becoming intimate with him?”

Callie’s cheeks heated more. She inhaled a breath. “No, sir. I had no objection when he kissed me.” She didn’t elaborate on what else they’d done.

Samuel Faber leaned forward in his chair, pinning her down under his heavy gaze. “I’m going to ask you a question, Agent Whitten.”

Tingling anticipation tightened Callie’s chest. She hadn’t meant to get in this deep. Yet with one indiscretion she’d put herself in a situation she couldn’t back out of. She certainly couldn’t argue unfamiliarity with illicit sex. “Go ahead, sir.”

Faber went on. “Before you answer, please think about it. This investigation is at a point where we can’t afford to make any mistakes. What I am going to ask of you will require something that will take you above and beyond the call of duty.”

Callie’s hands clenched into tight balls in her lap. “I understand.”

Faber rubbed one droopy cheek, considering his next words. “Good. Because as of this hour I am giving you sanctioned clearance to pursue a sexual relationship with Iollan Drake.”

Profound disbelief caused all male jaws to drop. Silence followed, as if everyone in the room had ceased to breathe. The lull lasted only a second, then the conference room exploded into a series of protests.

“Sir, I must remind you that an agent having sex with a suspect to gain information toward prosecution is a gray area where the law is concerned,” Roger Reinke pointed out.

“The bureau has never exactly enforced the rule against exploiting sex in an investigation,” Faber countered. He glanced over the rim of his glasses to emphasize his next words. “And as far as I know, it isn’t illegal for two consenting adults to have relations.”

Reinke’s brow furrowed. “This one’s tricky, sir, as we’re dealing with a man who acquires and manipulates females for sexual purposes.”

Faber spread his hands. “Seems a little hypocritical to balk, Roger. What is she supposed to do? Play patty-cake with him? If Drake thinks she’s someone he can manipulate, he’ll take her. Once we know his base of operations, we can move in and shut him down. Until we have that location, we’re dead in the water.”

Charlie Grayson broke in. “If the agent agrees, I say it’s worth the risk.”

Callie wasn’t sure whether to hug the man or slap him. “I’m willing to do this.”

“We’ve lost Kelso and Parker already,” Reeve reminded, shaking his head. “A third agent would be unconscionable.”

“I second that,” Reinke said. “Putting a female agent directly in the line of fire is irresponsible.”

The argument consumed fifteen minutes, with the pros and cons all listed and checked off one by one. Everyone was clearly tired and frustrated with the progress of the investigation, or lack thereof. A break was vital and needed. Soon.

Faber listened to both sides, then rapped the table with his knuckles. “Don’t think I haven’t considered all those options. I’m also considering the fact Agent Whitten is the only—and I repeat, the only—operative who has gotten one-on-one with Drake. The rest of you have seen him, tailed him, and lost him time and time again. If you’ve been made as the heat, he’ll continue to give you guys the slip. As she is new to the investigation, I believe Agent Whitten is the best one to continue contact.”

“I’ll accept that,” Roger Reinke said. “As long as my objection to the plan is recognized and documented.”

“So noted,” Faber said toward the small recorder taping the entire meeting. He turned back to Callie. “It’s going to be your call, Whitten. Do you think you can do this if we send you in deeper? I won’t lie to you, and you obviously know the risks.”

The fact that she was being sanctioned to do what she’d already done immediately helped clear Callie’s conscience. It also took her butt out of a sling.

“I can handle this,” she assured them.

D
onna’s Diner looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the day it opened, at least thirty years ago, maybe more. More antiquated than antique, it was little more than a hole-in-the-wall, somehow surviving on an avenue ending in a cul-de-sac.

At Donna’s, none of the questionable clientele had either eyes or ears. In such an area it was better to be blind and dumb. At least half the people had outstanding warrants on their heads. Not even free donuts enticed law enforcement to step through the door.

Blinds covered the front windows, darkening the booths inside. Easy to disappear, take a load off. Eat some bad food, drink coffee stout enough to curl hair. More than that, Donna’s was a free zone. Come inside and the world outside didn’t dare intrude.

Usually.

Callie sat in the rear of the diner, back to the wall so the entrance would always be in plain view. Hands curled around a hot cup of coffee, she waited for the meal she’d just ordered from the waitress. A dive stinking of lard and backed-up sewer, it was not the best place in town to get decent food. Operating twenty-four hours a day, the place mostly served the drug dealers, pimps, and hookers working the north side strip. Shootings were as common as the roaches skittering across the linoleum.

She sipped. The chipped cup wasn’t exactly clean, but the coffee was strong and hot. With enough cream and sugar added it even tasted good. At half past four in the afternoon, if she didn’t get some food in her soon, she’d faint from hunger.

Her gaze traveled to the front of the diner. The door opened. A man came in.

Callie winced, sliding down on the torn vinyl seat. She closed her eyes, muttering a silent curse. Shit. What was he doing here? She’d hoped she’d given Roger the dodge after the meeting. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to talk to him right now.

Go away, Roger.

He didn’t.

Picking her out of the half-empty diner, he walked up to her table. “I need to talk to you.”

A frown wrinkled her forehead, punctuating the headache that had been building behind her eyes for the last hour. Sharp suit and with an air of getting down to brass tacks, he was clearly out of his element, standing out like a sore thumb among the riffraff. He didn’t fit in; he didn’t want to.

“No, you don’t.”

Ignoring her, he slid into the seat across the table. He was breaking the rules tracking her down in public. If he wanted to trash his career and hers, he was getting off to a fine start. If word of their meeting got around, they would both be sunk with a capital
S
.

Roger didn’t look happy. “Don’t do it,” he said flatly.

She tensed. “What?”

His burning gaze settled on her face. “Don’t play dumb, Caroline,” he said, using her real name. “I want you to go to Faber and tell him you changed your mind.”

Callie bristled at the possessive tone in his voice. “Why should I do that?” she returned coolly. “It could be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

Roger shook his head, swearing lightly under his breath. “You’ve only been on this case a couple of weeks. You don’t know all the details. Drake’s dangerous.”

The look she gave him showed no amusement.

He smiled thinly. “I’m not calling you a fool, but you don’t have to be so blindly stupid either. I’m not willing to let you put yourself in danger just because you think you need to prove yourself.”

Anger knotted through her. She felt a certain hollowness in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with resentment. “Your concern for my safety is touching, but I was under the impression Faber put me on this case because I have the ability to do the job.”

He ignored her. “If you’re doing this to get even with me, fine. We’re even.”

Callie leaned into the table, bridging the gap between them. There were a lot of ears in this place. Anyone could hear anything. “This isn’t about you, or whatever we might have been in past times, Roger. I’m a federal agent, just like you. Trained to do whatever it takes to do my job.”

Gaze colliding with hers, he smiled thinly. His eyes narrowed, skimming over her in blatant disapproval. “Spreading your legs for Drake isn’t the way to do your job,” he hissed in an accusatory tone.

His words hit like a slap, the force literally taking her breath away. Insides going cold, Callie swallowed against the wave of mortification rising in her gut. She gave herself a mental shake, forcing herself not to take it personally.

Dangerously close to losing her temper, Callie reminded herself that he’d worked the case a lot longer than she had. She’d gotten closer to Drake in three short weeks than he had in months. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes now.

Seething, she propped her elbow on the table.
He’s just being a prick.
If he thought he was going to get her tossed, he had another think coming. Let him needle. She was a big girl. She’d survive.

“That was low,” she said quietly. “I didn’t deserve that at all.” Emotion tightening her throat, frustration lent a bite to her voice.

Roger started to say something, but the waitress interrupted. Callie’s order had arrived, giving a welcome break to the tension, almost a physical barrier between them. The waitress deposited a greasy cheeseburger and greasier fries on the table in front of her. “Here you go. Need anything else?”

Sitting like a stone, Callie shook her head. “The food looks fine.” It didn’t, but she wasn’t about to argue. She was so damn hungry she’d eat a shoe.

The waitress looked at her new customer expectantly. “Anything for you?”

He nodded. “Just coffee, please.”

The waitress sashayed off, returning a moment later with the coffeepot. She plunked down a cup and filled it to the brim. The gum in her mouth snapped. “There you go, honey.” For good measure, she refilled Callie’s coffee cup.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” The waitress sauntered over to another table, leaving them alone.

Roger sipped his coffee and grimaced. “Pure shit.”

Callie fiddled with her food, dousing the fries with a load of watery ketchup and picking the tomatoes and pickles off her burger. “It’s cheap.” She nodded toward a pack of garishly outfitted women, obviously hookers. “Just the kind of place a whore would hang out.”

Roger’s brows drew together. “I’m sorry.” His apology was more automatic than sincere. “When I said that, I didn’t mean it.”

She shrugged. “Uh-huh.” She bit into a French fry. It crunched like grit under her teeth. She forced herself to swallow it anyway. “Whatever.”

He leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands. “You don’t know how damn difficult this is for me.” He glanced up, his gaze seeking hers. Tightly restrained passion simmered in the depths of his eyes. “Seeing you, not being able to be with you, is driving me crazy.”

Appetite vanishing, Callie pushed her food away. A cold damp sweat had risen on her skin. She wasn’t prepared to deal with the raw wound their breakup had inflicted on her heart. Just when she thought she’d mended, he had to come along and rip the fucking bandage off. She bled all over again. “Don’t go there, Roger.”

He shook his head. “I can’t stop myself.” He reached across the table. His fingers brushed hers. “I still love you, baby.”

Callie glanced down at the hand that covered hers. Surprisingly, his touch didn’t heat her blood the way Iollan Drake’s had. She started a bit, cheeks flushing. Her body didn’t yearn to press close to his.

Nothing.

She felt a twinge of guilt at the realization, but only the slightest of twinges. His wants and desires were irrelevant. She simply didn’t care how he felt, and resented that he’d tried to manipulate her.

An awkward and uncomfortable silence throbbed between them.

Struggling to hold on to her calm, Callie slowly moved her hand out from under his. She picked up her coffee cup, taking a long drink of the fortifying caffeine. It was cold, tasted terrible, but she forced herself to swallow it anyway.

Ignoring his own coffee, Roger watched her. The pressure to say something hung between them, but he refused to be the first to speak.

Lowering her cup, Callie exhaled a heavy breath. She was tired of collecting memories she’d only regret later. “I don’t love you.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to say the rest. “Not anymore.”

Surprised by her words, he abruptly drew back. Lines of frustration creased his brow. “You really mean that?”

Hands clenched around her cup, Callie refused to drop her gaze. She studied him a long moment, considering. “Yes, I do. I really do. I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.” The words came out easier the second time, stronger and more confident. A curious lightness filled her. She felt better. A whole hell of a lot better.

A ridge of muscle tightened in his jaw as a hint of irritation drew down the corners of his mouth. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Callie wondered if that was supposed to give her any comfort. How ironic, she mused. He was the last damn man on earth who should be able to say that.

She leaned back in her seat and tried to relax. “Spare me your concern, please. You made your choice and I’ve had to make mine. What happened between us is in the past. We have to work together, so let’s just keep it professional.”

Roger’s lips pulled into a thin, tight line. He leaned back to put some space between them. “I suppose that’s the only way we can play it now.”

Callie shrugged stiffly. “The only way,” she agreed. “Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be.”

Uncomfortable now, he cleared his throat. “Do you have anything else to add?”

She considered her options for a few seconds, then made her decision. No reason to further the antagonism between them. She sucked in a deep breath, clearing her mind of thoughts related to their affair, and refocused her attention on the assignment she had yet to fulfill.

“I’m a good agent, Roger. You know that.” As an emphasis to her words, she pinned him under an unblinking gaze. “You trained me.”

He flinched, but didn’t waver as she’d thought he would. Hand rising to stroke his chin, he appeared to give her words due consideration. “Personal considerations aside, you are one of my best. Faber knows it, too. He believes you have what it takes to put the heat on Drake. Truthfully, when we considered a female agent, you were the only one we thought of.”

A feather would have knocked Callie on her ass. “Thank you. I appreciate your confidence.”

He frowned. “I’ll be frank when I tell you that what we’re asking you to do isn’t something agents haven’t done before to get necessary evidence. You know as well as I do that undercover work sometimes takes agents outside their comfort zone. If you can handle the assignment, then let’s proceed.”

She had to give him credit. When it came to putting on the stiff upper lip, Roger Reinke could do just that. The bureau claimed his loyalty, first and foremost. Wife, mistress, family. Everything else came second.

A smile tugged at her lips. She suppressed it. She’d had her taste of Drake and liked it well enough to take another. No matter the risk. Because of the danger or simply because being with a man dulled the ache of going without sex for six months she wasn’t sure. “It’s just sex.”

His intense gaze studied hers for a long moment. He considered her words before responding. “For which you are expected to take all precaution.”

She nodded. “That would be reasonable. I think I can handle it.”

A really long pause followed.

The silence got to her.

“What?”

He drilled her down under stormy gray eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you. This assignment will seriously change your status as an agent.”

His words sent tiny little shivers all over her skin. A volatile mix of emotions writhed in her gut. She forced herself to sit still. Damn it, she was stronger than this. “What do you mean?”

Expression stern, he shook his head. “Just that your career is about to move into an entirely new level,” he said for clarification. “I’ll give you fair warning and one last chance to back out. After that, you’re in, come hell or high water. Understood?”

She took a minute to absorb that tidbit of information. Curiosity took hold. She’d expected Roger to somehow find a way to railroad her out of the investigation. Roger was a spiteful, vengeful bastard when he wanted to be.

Waiting for a response, he sipped his own cold coffee, grimaced, sipped some more. “It’s your call. Are you in or out?”

Callie sucked it up and did what she had to do. “I’m in,” she said crisply.