“I had some questions about a few of Grove’s transcriptions. I need your permission to speak with him.”

“For the Yakuza case?”

“Yes.”

He hummed, unaffected. “Your function here is confidential.”

“Someone left a stack of his reports on my door. I assumed Grove knew I was also a specialist and wanted me to look them over.”

“Assumptions are dangerous, Liis. I put them there.”

“Oh.”

“Did you find anything?”

“A lot of things.”

I looked through the glass at the three people inside. Another agent was sitting in the corner, taking notes but otherwise looking extremely bored.

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“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Pittman. He wrecked his third vehicle. He’s on desk duty for a while.”

I looked to Thomas. He was unreadable.

“You don’t seem surprised that I found some discrepancies,” I said, watching Grove through the one-way mirror. I pointed. “There. He just translated that eleven former members of Yakuza are living in a building that also houses other subjects of Bureau investigations.”

“So?”

“The unsub relayed that the members are in fact current members of Yakuza, and their number is eighteen, not eleven. Grove’s omitting. He’s either shit at Japanese, or he’s unreliable.”

Agent Grove stood and then left the unsub in the room alone with the transcribing agent. He slowly walked out before closing the door behind him. When he saw the two of us, he startled but quickly recovered.

“Agent Maddox,” he said in a nasal tone.

Anyone else might have missed the slight trembling in his fingers when he pushed up his glasses. He was a pudgy man with copper skin. His eyes were so dark that they were nearly black, and his wiry mustache twitched when he spoke.

Thomas gestured to me with the same hand that held his coffee. “This is Agent Lindy, the new supervisor for Squad Five.”

“I’ve heard the name,” Grove said, eyeing me. “From Chicago?”

“Born and raised.”

Grove had the look I’d seen often right before a person asked me if I was Korean, Japanese, or Chinese. He was trying to decide if I could speak the language he had been incorrectly translating.

“Maybe you should come in here and help. He’s got a weird accent. Keeps tripping me up,” Grove said.

I shrugged. “Me? I don’t speak Japanese. I’ve been thinking of taking lessons though.”

Thomas spoke up, “Maybe you could work with her, Grove?”

“Like I have time for that,” he grumbled, mindlessly rubbing his sweaty palms against each other.

“Just a thought,” Thomas said.

“I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll see you around.”

Thomas lifted his chin once, waiting until Agent Grove left the room.

“Good call,” Thomas said, watching Pittman doodle.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

“I’ve had my suspicions for at least three months. I was sure when I missed an arrest after walking in on an empty room that I knew had been crawling with Yakuza two days prior.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Thomas shrugged. “I was going to bring him in to translate the Title Threes we’d gotten on Benny’s guys in Vegas, but after that missed arrest, I thought better of it. Instead, I wanted to bring in someone new, someone better.”

“Someone who wasn’t a double agent?”

Thomas turned to me with the smallest hint of a smile. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

“Will you arrest him?” I asked. “What will you do?”

He shrugged. “I doubt we’ll keep using him as a translator.”

I made a face. “I’m serious.”

“Me, too.”

Thomas walked with me down the hall and out to the parking lot, tossing his coffee and opening an umbrella. “You should invest in one of these, Liis. It’s spring, you know.”

He hadn’t said my name as acerbically as before. He’d spoken it softly, his tongue caressing each letter, and I found myself glad that we had the excuse of the rain to keep close.

I dodged puddles, inwardly enjoying it when Thomas struggled to keep the umbrella over my head. Finally, he resorted to putting his free hand around my waist and squeezing me to his side. If we came upon a puddle, he could simply and effortlessly lift me over it.

“I have never liked the rain,” Thomas said as we stopped in front of the lobby doors while he shook off his umbrella. “But I might have changed my mind.”

I grinned up at him, trying my best not to make obvious the ridiculous giddiness I felt over his innocent flirtation.

Once inside the lobby of the main building, Thomas was back to his typical ASAC demeanor. “I’ll need a FD-three-oh-two on your findings by the end of the day. I’m going to need to report this to the S.A.C.”

“On it,” I said, turning for the elevator.

“Liis?”

“Yes?”

“Will you be working out today?”

“Not today. I’m having lunch with Val.”

“Oh.”

I relished the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, trying to play off the small blow to his ego.

If he looked any unhappier, I wouldn’t be able to thwart the smile threatening to break out across my face.

Once inside the elevator, when the thrill wore off, I was thoroughly annoyed with myself. I’d essentially kicked him out of my bedroom the night we met because I was sure I would be too busy enjoying my freedom. Being with Jackson had been suffocating, and a transfer had seemed like the perfect solution.

Why in the hell do I feel this way about Thomas? Despite my feelings about starting a new relationship and considering his temper and emotional baggage, what is it about him that makes me lose my ability to reason?

Whatever it was, I needed to get a handle on it. We had to focus on getting through our assignment in St. Thomas, and something messy like feelings wouldn’t help anyone.

The elevator opened to reveal Val smiling brightly in the hallway. After taking in the sight of me, her good mood vanished. “Haven’t you heard of an umbrella, Liis? Jesus.”

I rolled my eyes. “You act as if I’m covered in dog shit. It’s rain.”




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