Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set Page 51

  “Is that all?” Dr. Oliviero asked.

  “I guess,” Nick said, also getting to his feet, hoping to scurry him out of the room before he noticed anything awry with Nick himself.

  “Agents Grant and Delano, can I see you outside for a moment?” the doctor asked.

  Nick and Lara looked at one another and he wondered if he looked as guilty as she did.

  Chapter Six

  Nick’s stomach clenched. Last thing he wanted was a one on one, or even a one on two with Oliviero. “Sure.” He looked toward Lara, who very reluctantly got to her feet.

  The whole team watched in silence as they left.

  “What’s going on, agents? What are you keeping from your team?”

  “What?” Lara said at the same time as he did.

  “I don’t appreciate being asked to give a professional opinion when I’m very transparently not being given the whole picture. So I ask again, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t understand,” Lara said, leaning against the wall in such a fake attempt at nonchalance he would have laughed.

  “Agent Grant. You didn’t meet my eyes once while I was in the room. Instead of being the engaged agent I know you to be, you persisted in looking out of the window and wincing whenever anyone offered a theory.” The doctor raised his eyebrows in question.

  Nick was furious that he hadn’t seen it himself. “Lara. What the hell? How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not okay to work outside the team? You can’t go around making your own decisions, your own plays, keeping secrets. What do you know? You inform me—”

  “Let’s be honest, Agent Delano, you’re doing exactly the same thing. You are hiding something, too. Your body language is quite transparent. As soon as I came in, you put distance between us. You pushed yourself out from the table, crossed one leg over the other in an obvious attempt at a barrier and then folded your arms in front of you. You kept biting your lip and you, too, failed to meet my eyes once.”

  Nick couldn’t say anything. He was hiding something big all right. But it wasn’t the same. Lara was a past master at this. She knew better.

  You know better, too. One rule for you, another for her, right?

  Lara jumped in delight. “You hypocritical SOB, Nick. What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Somehow Lara’s attack didn’t seem to be coming from a “be a part of the team” direction, but more a “why aren’t you telling your partner stuff” one.

  “You go first, sweetheart,” he sneered. “You’re the one with a history of secrets. You owe me an explanation. What’s going on? You’ve been acting squirrely since you came back with James.” He hesitated for a second. Lara and James? Was that it? No. He knew Lara better than that. There was no way Lara would have slept with him, then gotten close to James in that way so soon after. What had happened up there then?

  “Well, that’s all we’ve got time for, folks,” Dr. Oliviero said, looking at his watch. “You’re not doing yourselves, your team or the people of New York any good if you can’t be honest with each other. Think about that.”

  They were both silent as they watched him go.

  Lara spoke first. Of course. “You first.”

  Not even an option. There was no way he could tell her that he’d leaked something about the investigation to a potential felon. That his brother could be a murderer. Some things were just out of bounds. Way out of bounds.

  “No. You first. Tell me what went on at the store. What really happened, Lara. I’ve never seen you so unconcerned about a lack of a lead. Your trip came to nothing and you seem zoned out. Not heated, confrontational, nor eager to chase a different lead. You know something, and you better tell me or I’ll bench you until this investigation is over.”

  Lara took a step back, and disbelief rushed through her expression. “You’ll bench me? What? You don’t have the power to bench anything other than a two-hundred-pound weight—and that’s only if you’ve eaten your Wheaties. Don’t get too comfortable in that Special Agent in Charge seat, you might find you can’t reach quite as far as you think you can. Besides, until Mercer makes his decision, that chair is half mine. So back off with your self-righteousness. Don’t forget Oliviero just outed you and whatever secret you have in thirty seconds. The team isn’t stupid. You think they won’t figure something’s up with you before the end of the day?”

  Nick could feel heat and fury surge through him, but he held himself together. Just. “Fine, Lara. You keep your secret and I’ll keep mine. We’ll see which one ends up killing someone first. Because—spoiler alert—it’s usually yours.” He spun on his heel and made for their office. Closing the door behind him he took a breath and punched the wall.

  He felt his knuckles spread under the pressure, and his skin crack over the bone. Blood speckled the wall, and then started pulsing out of his split hand.

  Damn her.

  But even as he surveyed his busted hand, he knew Lara was just a speck of dust on top of the heap of shit his father had unloaded on him. Thank God no one had seen him lose himself like that. No one wanted a wall-punching FBI agent around.

  He stretched out his fingers to keep them moving, and was paralyzed for a second by the pain. As he fought to keep the nausea at bay, he reached for his phone to text Lara for help. And then he realized he’d already burned that bridge. Besides which, he couldn’t guarantee that with her in close proximity he wouldn’t want to punch an inanimate object all over again.

  He sat at the desk, carefully placing his hand on the table. Maybe his hand was just the first step in a scorched earth approach to his life. He needed out of the FBI, away from his father and from Lara. Only then would he be able to see what he really wanted. As soon as this case was over, he was so out of here. He had about sixty days leave to take, and by God he was going to take the full two months. Maybe more. Maybe a whole year’s leave of absence. Out of the city, out of his apartment and away from everyone.

  His whole arm started to throb.

  Being here was not good for his health. Against his better judgment he called Dr. Oliviero and asked him to come to his office. Victoria’s office. Mercer’s office. Whatever.

  The doctor knocked on the door and let himself in. “What happened to you?” he asked, taking in the scene.

  “The wall hit my hand?” he said between clenched teeth.

  “So I see.” He winced as he looked at Nick’s hand. “You should really get that looked at.”

  “That’s why I called you,” Nick ground out, trying to breathe through the pain.

  “Agent—I’m not that kind of doctor.” Oliviero frowned. “Tell me that’s not your weapon hand.”

  “It’s not. I know you’re not that sort of doctor, but you must have had some kind of medical training, right?”

  “Wrong. Very, very wrong.”

  “Jesus. So what you’re telling me is that not only can you not actually help me right now, but you will also be making this a side note on my file?” Nick wished he’d called Lara now. At least she would have distracted him from the pain.

  “No. It won’t be a side note; it will be a whole, regular note.” He shook his head in dismay. “I thought you were the calm one in your partnership. But now I see you’re both as impetuous as each other, I’m wondering if I should rescind my advice that you should continue working together.”

  “What?” Nick’s mind went in to overdrive with the knowledge that there’d been talk of splitting him and Lara up. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Last year, after the Moretti case, everyone thought you would be better off with different partners. A fresh start for both of you. But I thought Agent Grant needed stability, that you would be the neutralizing influence on her—”

  “Neutralizing?” Nick interrupted.

  “You would
neutralize her almost pathological need for control. For working alone. For keeping secrets.” He glared meaningfully.

  Nick ignored the look. “You think she’s still working alone? What secrets do you think she’s keeping?”

  “Well if I knew that, I’d be more mind reader than psychologist, wouldn’t I? Which would be useful, I grant you.” The doctor took one last look at his swollen hand, shuddered and backed out of the office.

  Nick had never, ever, noticed before what a pill the doctor was. He kind of liked it.

  Now what the hell was he going to do with his hand?

  He rose, wondering where he could get a bandage other than a Band-Aid to bind his hand up, only to sit back down when there was a knock on the door. “Come in?” he said.

  Nick slid his hand into his lap as Ty entered. He lowered his eyes for a moment as Ty clocked the dent in the wall.

  “Are you okay?” Ty asked.

  “Sure. Everything’s fine.” Nick’s hand throbbed. If only hitting a wall was as pain-free as it seemed in the movies.

  Ty widened his eyes in mock-innocence. “Sure it is. You look like you’re trying not to puke, and there’s a hole in the wall that wasn’t there this morning. You’re also cradling your hand like a guy who only just realized how painful it is to punch an immovable object. But aside from that, everything fine?”

  Busted. Nick wrinkled his nose. “Yeah?” he said with a huge dose of doubt.

  “Hang in there. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared.

  Nick took a shaky breath. He felt like a real dick for putting himself in danger of not being able to do his job. There was no frustration in the world that merited being benched from the investigation because of a broken hand. Except Lara and my father.

  Ty returned with a non-issue first aid kit. “You just happened to have your own personal medical kit?” he asked.

  He didn’t reply for a second, and Nick realized that the canvas bag looked as if it were a military-issued one. That’s right. Ty had been in the military prior to the FBI. He made short work of soothing his hand with a cooling gel and wrapping it in a khaki-colored bandage. Tight enough to offer support, and not so tight that it throbbed.

  “I guess you never really leave the army do you?” Nick asked, testing his hand by flexing and fisting his hand.

  “That’s what I came here to tell you.” Ty sat back on his heels for a moment and took in Nick’s confused expression. “It’s about Michael Davidson.”

  Nick took a second to realize that Michael Davidson was the name that Halpert had attributed to Ty. “There’s nothing you need to explain. We all have secrets we need to keep hidden. Hell, we wouldn’t have gotten to our ripe age without them. We’re going to get him before he can expose us. I have no doubt of that,” he lied.

  Ty shook his head firmly and took the chair opposite Nick. “That’s not an option. I’m not waiting for him to reveal it before I tell you. It’s too dangerous.”

  Nick felt sick. What had Ty done that was too dangerous to keep quiet about? “So tell me.”

  Ty took a breath and blew it out through pursed lips. He laughed at himself. “I didn’t expect you to just... I hadn’t planned exactly what to say.”

  “Just tell me. It can’t be worse than Jennifer’s secret.” Nick cringed at his own words. His whole team was in pain—except Lara, it seemed—and he sounded to his own ears as if he were being flippant. “I’m sorry...”

  “It’s okay, man. None of this is easy. And it shouldn’t be, should it? They’re all secrets for a reason. But my secret will make us all a target. I need you to tell me what to do. I’ll quit if you want me to.”

  “What? No, just tell me what happened and we’ll deal with it after the case. Just like everyone else,” Nick said, wondering when that would happen. And what would happen to him if he came clean.

  “Look, I wouldn’t be making a big deal about this if it was just about me. But if it’s made public, then I’ll be made a target by people who don’t care about collateral damage. At least they won’t in this case. Rightly.” He pressed his lips together, and if Nick didn’t know him better, he’d have assumed he was biting back tears.

  “Tell me what it is, and we can do a risk assessment,” he said simply.

  Ty took a pause and then stared. “I was downrange. I was a newly minted JAG—there to offer my legal opinion on targets.” He paused to explain. “In Iraq and Afghanistan we had very specific legal requirements that we had to meet before we could bomb anything or anyone. It was my job to okay their missions as being legal under the Geneva Convention.

  “What I didn’t realize was that sometimes we got bad intel, sometimes, a source would try to burn us by giving us a bad target. And I was too young and dumb to doubt the intel. I okayed the bombing of the supposed headquarters of an Al Qaeda—sympathetic group operating in Fallujah. And it wasn’t. It was a makeshift clinic—tents really—run by an American doctor. The security we’d seen around the compound was to try keep the bad guys out. Michael Davidson was the doctor. He died along with twenty-four of his patients.” He swallowed. “There were children.” Ty fisted his hands in his lap.

  Nick was horrified. Not at the incident, but that Ty had been holding that guilt inside him for nearly ten years. No wonder he cut up when Mei died. “Have you spoken to Dr. Oliviero about that?”

  “No,” Ty said shortly.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had this in your head for so long, man. And I’m sorry that it may come out...”

  “I’m not,” Ty interrupted. “It should come out. I should be held accountable. I should be blamed, and I should be punished for that. The army said it wasn’t a deliberate act, so there was no court-martial where I could confess to my arrogance and cockiness. No one I could apologize to because the mission was classified. My hands were tied. Maybe Halpert can untie them for me. Literally my only concern is that someone who was in that clinic may want to get revenge. And one of you guys may be with me, or behind me.” He echoed what Xander had said to Lara about being a part of the team.

  Nick couldn’t get his head around what was happening to his team. But he wasn’t going to let any member of his team be hung out to dry by Halpert. He was going to stop him.

  Or he was going to die trying.

  Enough was enough.

  Chapter Seven

  Lara couldn’t believe Nick would deliberately hurt her like that. To say that she was the one who got people killed. Xander had said something similar. She took a shaky breath. She couldn’t even tell herself that he was wrong, and that tore her up. He was right. They were both right. And despite the fact that Nick had read her the riot act before, she’d done the same thing over again.

  She didn’t have the energy to return to the conference room, not with the sniping and rancor that always came from having no leads.

  She leaned against the corridor wall for a couple of seconds. She’d been wrong, and she’d made a selfish decision that could cost lives. She had to come clean.

  She headed toward Christina’s office again, this time hoping to see Eloise alone. There was only one thing that could mitigate what she’d done, and that was having positive information that Eloise may have found.

  Christina’s office was alive with people. Christina was standing in the corner directing work. Eloise was sitting at Christina’s desk setting the keyboard on fire with the speed her fingers flew over the keys. Two other agents were bashing away at other computers, white text splattering across the screen so fast Lara wondered how anyone could actually read it.

  “You’re here! Great!” Christina said. “We’ve made a little progress.”

  All thoughts of Lara’s own problems disappeared. “What? What have you got?”

  “Eloise had a great idea. We went back to the one public place Halpert had been: the blog that Greg B
yrne had used to express his anger at Victoria. There’s no way he didn’t interact with Greg—he had to make sure that he wasn’t some crazy conspiracy kook, and that Byrne was actually talking about Victoria. He couldn’t have just assumed that Byrne was on the up-and-up, and his anonymous postings were about Victoria. He’s too good for that. Too concerned with how professional he looks at his hacking. He’s a guy with a big ego. Imagine if he’d accused Victoria of subverting the course of justice, and it turned out it was a different agent?” Christina paused.

  “Yes? What did you find?”

  “Nothing yet. We figured Halpert would remove evidence that he was ever at that site, and it’s taking some time to unravel and track down all the users on the site.”

  “Let’s go talk to Greg Byrne then. He’ll tell us who he’d been in contact with,” Lara said, a trickle of excitement running through her.

  “That’s on you. I’m staying here to—” She waved her arms over the room.

  “Conduct?” Lara said with a small smile.

  Christina thought about it. “Yes. Conduct. I like that.”

  Lara went to get Nick. He was in his office—scratch that—he was in Victoria’s office with Ty. She wasn’t going to wait for them to finish, so she went back to the conference room. “Anyone up for a field trip?” she asked.

  Everyone looked at her, and no one volunteered. It tore a little at her insides. After what felt like minutes of silence, but was probably only a second or two, James stood up and slipped his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’m in.”

  “So what was that all about?” she asked when they were in the pool car.

  “What was what about,” he said, fastening his seat belt as she took the corner of the parking lot a little too fast.

  “The pause before you agreed to come with me. It felt like no one wanted to ride shotgun with me,” she said. She didn’t know what had compelled her to be frank with him. Under normal circumstances she’d have just pretended it hadn’t happened and moved on. Something had happened to her—changed in her—the second she took that link to Halpert and hadn’t told anyone about it.