When she heard the soft knock on her door, she rushed to answer it.
“Good morning, Tanya.” She forced a smile. “Please . . . come in.”
“Thanks for accommodating my crazy schedule.”
Even before dawn, the woman was impeccably dressed, in a navy Burberry blazer and a pencil skirt. Her black skin looked radiant, with only a hint of the flawless makeup she wore. And her Southern drawl could melt butter. That voice had calmed Alexa on many covert-ops missions when she had needed analytical support . . . and a friend.
“Sorry to get you up this early, but I thought we should talk somewhere away from headquarters. And your place was on my way to work.”
“No trouble. Can I get you coffee?” Alexa asked.
“Yes, please.”
Alexa already had a pot made and served Tanya a cup before they sat in the living room.
Being a covert agent, Alexa viewed the world differently from most people. She looked for ulterior motives and conspiracies under every rock. It was how her brain worked, out of necessity. Her survival sometimes depended on it. And since Tanya Spencer had a similar background—having worked many years with the privately funded Sentinels and served as Garrett Wheeler’s right hand for the last decade—Alexa figured the woman’s cryptic words meant she was only playing it safe.
“So tell me what’s on your mind, Tanya?”
“I’m not sure if I should be saying this, but . . .” the woman began. “ . . . I haven’t heard from Garrett in almost ten days. And that’s not like him.” When Alexa didn’t act surprised, Tanya said, “What’s going on? Do you know anything about this?”
“No, I don’t.” Alexa shook her head and heaved a sigh. “But I’ve noticed the same thing. I thought it was me. After I broke it off with him, our relationship changed. It had to, but I haven’t heard from him either. And that’s got me losing sleep.”
Tanya was one of the few people within the Sentinels who knew about Alexa’s personal relationship with her boss, Garrett. She considered the woman a trusted friend.
“Isn’t anyone else concerned about this?” Alexa narrowed her eyes. “He’s head of our organization. What’s he been working on?”
Tanya had been Garrett’s senior analyst and advisor for the last ten years. She usually kept close tabs on him. And he trusted her with every aspect of what he did. They were a team.
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” The woman shook her head and put down her coffee. “And it’s got me worried sick. He’s never done this, Alexa. He’s always involved me with anything he touched. That’s why I wanted to talk here, at your place. Something’s been going on, and I’ve been cut out of the loop. The people Garrett answers to, they have to know something, but they’re not clueing me in.”
“So who’s in charge with Garrett gone? I’ve never seen him work with anyone in particular who could step into his shoes.”
“Yeah, I haven’t either, not with the secrecy above his level. But this can’t go on forever. If Garrett is AWOL, someone’s got to assume his duties.”
“You have any idea who?”
Tanya only shook her head. She was normally unflappable, but seeing the grimace on her face told Alexa all she needed to know about how concerned the woman was.
“We’d have to be careful looking into this. We could blow his op and put him in danger if we barge in without knowing what’s going on.”
“Does that mean you and Jessie will be looking into this?” Tanya asked. “I’ve tried tracking Garrett, but I’ve got nothing. Maybe if we trace other movements within the organization, we’ll have better luck.”
Tanya was right. If Garrett was involved in a covert op that excluded his top analyst and his most trusted agent, it had to be really big. But that also meant the Sentinels’ resources would be dedicated to the operation. And if Alexa could handpick someone to dig through the veiled secrecy of the Sentinels—an organization of international vigilantes who operated off the global grid to dole out their brand of justice—she would have Tanya Spencer at the top of her list. The woman had connections in and out of the organization. And with her internal-systems knowledge, she could slip through virtual back doors without anyone’s noticing.
“I’m meeting Jessie later for breakfast. She’s pretty new to how things work within the Sentinels, but we’ll see.” Alexa sat back on her sofa and crossed her arms. “If we do this, we’d need your help.”
Tanya nodded, and said, “Count on it.”
Alexa knew that what she was planning on doing—using the organization’s resources to trace a covert operation involving her boss and former lover—would not be a sensible thing to do. It could turn into a career ender, at best. Or a death sentence, at worst. And to involve her new partner, Jessie, would not be wise either—especially for Beckett’s sake.
Relying on her gut instinct, she’d have to make that call when she talked to Jessie. If she read anything in her that raised a red flag, she’d let it slide and go it alone with Tanya. But one way or another, she’d take the risk for Garrett—because he would do the same for her.
New York’s Lower East Side
The ringing of a phone early in the morning was never a good thing.
Jessie Beckett pulled the bedcovers off her face and fumbled for the light switch. And after she flicked on her lamp, she squinted at the alarm clock on her nightstand.
“Six twenty? Who the hell—” She winced and grabbed the cell phone off her nightstand and flipped it open without looking at the caller’s number. “You better have a damned good reason for breaking into my beauty sleep.”
The sun had barely made an appearance. And that meant she didn’t give a rip about winning Miss Congeniality.
“Jessie? It’s Sam.”
She recognized the voice of her best friend. Samantha Cooper was a vice cop in Chicago. And she had better sense than to call her at this hour if it wasn’t important.
“Sam? What’s up? Is Seth all right?”
Her worry barometer worked double time when it came to Seth Harper, a guy who had nestled into her heart and made a home. The whacked-out computer genius had a habit of getting into trouble, and not only because he knew her. The boy had a serious way of attracting it on his own. And with his recent recruitment into the Sentinels for his mad skills with a keyboard—the same organization Jessie worked for—Seth had more than doubled his gift for luring trouble.
“No, Seth is fine, I guess. I haven’t seen him lately, but I was calling you about . . . something else.”
“Oh?”
Her friend cleared her throat and stalled. And that wasn’t like her.
“Spit it out, Sammie.”
“Chicago PD received a bulletin from a police chief in La Pointe, Wisconsin.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“It’s at the northern tip of Wisconsin. On Madeline Island in Lake Superior, to be exact. I looked it up on a map.”
“Thanks for the geography lesson.” Jessie ran a hand through her dark hair. “Explain why I should care about this?”
Sam cleared her throat again. Definitely stalling.
“You should care because the police there are working an old cold case. A pretty gruesome murder that happened over twenty years ago.”
“Twenty years. We were both kids back then. Why are you calling me about this, Sam?”
Jessie didn’t like where this was headed. Twenty years ago, she was a kid in the hands of notorious pedophile, Danny Ray Millstone. At least, that was what she believed. She had been too young to really know the truth about how she ended up with him—or maybe she’d blocked it out. And insult to injury, after she was rescued by Detective Max Jenkins of the Chicago PD, no one from her family stepped up to claim her. Not even the national media coverage afterward shed light on what had happened to her. That aspect of her past had remained a black hole. And she’d given up trying to find where she’d come from.