Still, Brandon knew there was no way Blackstone would take advantage of someone as wounded and fragile as Lily.
"Hey, you made it in, huh?"
He looked up from his computer screen. Seeing Special Agent Jackie Stokes, he offered her a smile, wondering if she could read the tension that had made him sit close to the monitor, his ear almost pressed against the state-of-the-art speaker. "Yeah, sorry about this morning."
"It's okay. We managed one morning without you." Her friendly smile slowly faded and he knew one instant before she opened her mouth again that something had happened. "I want to know what's going on."
He somehow managed to remain completely still. "I don't know what you mean."
Stepping into the office, she pushed the door closed behind her. Her sensible, low-heeled pumps clicked ominously above the whir and hiss of all the computer equipment as she crossed the room. Dropping onto Anna's empty seat, Jackie leaned over, dropping her elbows onto her knees. It was all Brandon could do not to minimize the screen now that she had a direct line of sight. But there was nothing to see-just a paused audio screen. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was simply being paranoid.
Damn, this was hard. Keeping Lily's secret from the world had been difficult enough, but keeping it from those who had loved her? People like Jackie? He honestly didn't know if she was ever going to forgive any of them.
"I know you, Brand," she said with a frank stare, "I know when you're up to something and you have been up to something for quite a while." She glanced at the closed door. "I also know some things are going on in this office that the rest of us aren't aware of"
Brandon put on his best poker face. "Like?"
"Like, some cop called this morning, got put through to me when he heard Wyatt was out. He was asking about something he called the tiger lily murder?"
Oh, shit.
"I had to tell him I didn't know anything about it. It appears Wyatt went out there to walk a crime scene the other day." Jackie sat up in the chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "And something tells me you already knew that. It seems as though every time I turn around, the two of you are having quiet conversations, one-on-one meetings. Care to share what's going on?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't help ya," he said, shrugging. It wasn't a lie-he hadn't said he didn't know anything, just that he couldn't help.
She obviously saw right through the hedge in his words. "You can'/, huh?"
Brandon shook his head once, not relenting.
Jackie waited a long moment, then nodded. "Okay.
Guess I'll just talk to SSA Blackstone when he arrives back in the office Tuesday morning."
"You do that," Brandon said, turning his chair around to face his monitor once more. "I really need to get back to work."
He didn't, of course, get right back to work. Not until he heard the office door close quietly behind her as Jackie left.
Maybe it was just as well that Jackie's suspicions were up, that she'd be confronting Wyatt. Perhaps she wouldn't then be so blindsided by the truth. Because if this lead panned out, and Lily was able to recognize a voice on one of those audio files, they might very well have a viable suspect.
Which meant Lily Fletcher might be returning from the dead in the very near future.
Chapter 6
Brandon was as good as his word. By one, Wyatt had received the audio files. The IT specialist had taken the workshop recordings from the conference, narrowing most of them down to a one-minute clip of the speaker in an effort to save time. The two multispeaker panels were full-length, but hopefully they wouldn't have to listen to the entire things.
He'd also sent the audio interview with the car owner and her sister-in-law, which Lily wanted to hear for herself, just in case.
The two of them sat at the kitchen table, the doors and windows closed to cut down on any audible interference from outside, and listened, starting with the interview. It was cursory, since the doctor had never been a real suspect, but the voices came through clearly. Clearly enough for Lily to proclaim she hadn't heard them before.
Dr. Kean came across as crisp and professional. Competence laced her tone, though she sounded genuinely dismayed by the idea that her vehicle had been used in a crime. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more," said the voice on the digital recording as the interview came to a close. "Will you please let me know as soon as you've finished with the car?"
"We'll do that," a male voice replied. "We so appreciate you, and you, Dr. Underwood, talking to us."
"Anspaugh," Lily muttered. The disdain in that single word told him all he needed to know about Lily's feelings for the other agent. The one who was supposed to protect her.
"I'm sure you're anxious to get your vehicle back. We're terribly sorry to inconvenience you."
"Has he ever not sounded like such a sleazy suck-up?" Lily said. "If I didn't already know from the pictures on their Web site that Dr. Kean is very attractive, and her sister-in-law utterly gorgeous, I'd have been able to figure it out just by the sound of Anspaugh's drool hitting the microphone."
"He shed a tear or two at your funeral, before realizing he was going to catch hell for what happened to you."
"Only because he never succeeded in getting in my pants before he got me killed."
Wyatt couldn't contain a small half smile. The old Lily had never been so blunt. And she'd been a whole lot nicer. Frankly, he liked this one better.
Not that there was anything wrong with nice, but he'd worried about whether she was tough enough to meet the demands of the job. He had also found her hard to read; he'd never quite been able to see what the young agent was thinking.
What she was feeling? Well, that hadn't been difficult.
Lily had always worn her emotions on her sleeve. Which hadn't been the best asset in a field that required dispassion and analytic thinking.
Funny, the woman the world considered dead would probably be better at her job now than she had been before.
"I don't want the car back. Ever. I simply want to get rid of it," said the voice on the recording.
Lily sighed, reached out, and closed the audio file with a click. "Moving on."
Yet, she didn't immediately start the first of the workshop snippets. He suspected he knew why. Part of her was anxious to hear every voice, screen every possibility. Even knowing this whole enterprise was a long shot and she probably wouldn't recognize a single person.
But another part of her had to be very afraid she would. Hearing words spoken by the man who'd held her, hurt her, would be shocking. Possibly even terrifying. His voice rising like a ghost from the computer speakers could push her over the edge into that panicked state she'd been in all those months ago when she'd been rescued.
Wyatt honestly didn't know how she would react. Which was why he slid his chair a little closer, ready to offer a steadying hand on her shoulder.
Positioned so close to her, he suddenly realized he should have thought twice. The soft, delicate fragrance of honeysuckle rose off her skin. Her favorite lotion. He'd seen it in her apartment, which he'd gone to clean out after her "death," and made sure she was stocked in it. So she smelled like the same sweet, soft young woman he'd known.
She's not that woman.
No. She wasn't. Though his immediate sensory reaction to the scent was a familiar jolt of tenderness and protectiveness, it didn't counteract his other senses. The scrape of her bare leg against his jeans ratcheted up the tension, as did the sound of each of her slow in-and-out breaths. Her hand, resting beside his on the table, was so damned slim, fragile, yet the arms revealed by the sleeveless tank top were toned and sculpted with muscle.
She was strong and soft, sweet and tough. The biggest distraction of his entire adult life.