Already Taken (Laura Frost FBI)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nate sat at his desk in the J. Edgar Hoover Building—the FBI headquarters. He was supposed to be clearing it out. After the incident on the bridge, he’d been given a couple of weeks’ paid leave to help him deal with it—not that he really needed to.

Not with the attempt on his life, anyway. The revelation about Laura was maybe different.

So, he was supposed to finish his leave and then make his transfer. It was almost all completed. All he had to do was sign the paperwork and clear out his desk. The paperwork was in a manila folder which he had carefully carried in from his car and laid down on his desk, right next to the cardboard box with the sides folded in that he intended to use for his things.

Now that he was sitting here, though, it didn’t all seem so easy.

He just had to move his damn arms and pick up everything one by one. Pick it up and put it in the box. How hard could that be?

And yet, here he found himself. Staring instead of moving. Lost in thought.

It had started with the rest of the paperwork in his in tray. He’d picked it up and placed it in front of him, on top of the folder. He figured maybe he should fill it all out and then hand it in to Rondelle at the same time, save himself having to make the trip upstairs more than once. But then he’d actually read it. It was related to a case he and Laura had worked before—one they’d solved together. They’d saved lives then. Now the court was asking for an update on the evidence trail of a certain object that had been used in the murders, and they needed him to fill out and sign an affidavit on that front.

It had brought it all back, seeing the paperwork. Nate sat there and remembered what they had done. The last victim, a girl no older than ten—they’d found her just in time to free her. She’d been traumatized, of course, but she was still alive. They’d done that.

But now, looking back, he realized the truth. Laura had done that.

They had been racing against time and stuck up a creek without a paddle. Spinning in circles trying to catch a killer who didn’t seem to leave any trace of himself behind. But then out of nowhere, Laura had had this idea to look into connections with the local school. They hadn’t been looking in that area at all—the victims had been older. They didn’t even come from the same schools. But it turned out there was one man who had worked at both, and he’d worked in education for twenty years, meaning he’d come across all of the victims one way or another in the school halls.

Laura had put it together from luck, she said, and gut instinct, and a random thought about the school that had led her in the right direction. She’d even said that Nate probably would have gotten there himself if he’d been given enough time. But now he understood the truth: she’d had some kind of vision which led her to the killer.

It had all been down to the visions—almost every success they’d ever had. Maybe even the ones that Nate didn’t suspect.

All the times he’d thought they worked on it together. What, was she feeding him information?

Was he even that good of an agent, like he had thought he was all this time? Or was it all down to Laura?

He’d had successes before they were partnered together, but… all the cases that had made their names as the top agents they were had been together. All of them. Would he have even gotten this far in his career if it wasn’t for her visions?

Everything was starting to make sense to him. All of her hunches, her gut feelings, her instincts. He’d teased her about it plenty of times. There were times when he’d been suspicious, even accused her of having secret informants. Or worse. Mob ties, or something. He hadn’t known what to think.

But that hadn’t been until late in their relationship. They’d been partners for a really long time before he even started to doubt that she just had a killer instinct. Pun intended.

He’d been so dumb, all this time.

He was supposed to be an FBI agent. The people the cops turned to when they couldn’t figure out a case. How had he been letting this happen under his nose for all this time without noticing it?

And when she’d told him—oh, man. When she’d told him, he’d thought she was crazy. Losing her mind. He’d told her to get psychiatric help. It was a miracle she’d even shown up to stop him getting pushed off the bridge.

But hell, what a way to prove to him that she was the real deal.

“Hey, Nate!”

He looked up, startled. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. With Laura’s desk—right in front of his—conspicuously empty, he’d felt cut off from the rest of the guys in the bullpen. But Freddie Jones, one of the agents who sat right behind them, was just coming back to his desk with lunch.

“Freddie,” he said, feeling like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep. “How’s it going?”

“Good, man, good.” Freddie nodded. The guy was a little too enthusiastic sometimes, in a sweet kind of way. He had a son he adored, and he was always great with kids when they came in—reassuring, kind, fatherly. Now, though, he was frowning. “It’s not true, is it? You’re leaving us for a local branch?”

“Uh.” Nate paused, looking down. He didn’t know how to answer that. Not really. “Well, I just have to finish the paperwork. It’s not a done deal until then.”

Freddie tsked, sitting down on the edge of Nate’s desk. “Don’t do it. I know you and Laura fell out lately, and I don’t know what it was about, but you two are good together. Don’t throw it all away, Nate. Try and make it work.”

Nate’s mouth quirked up at one side in amusement. “We’re not married.”

“I know,” Freddie said, rolling his eyes. “But real partnership like that is hard to find, even here. You’re a great team. You have a better record than just about anyone else in this place, and you know it’s only because you always get paired up. Laura can’t hold onto another partner to save her life. If you go, it’s going to be back to the revolving doors again.”

Nate frowned slightly. “Revolving doors?”

“New partner every case,” Freddie said. “And the more she gets put with new people, the more prickly she gets. You know she hates babysitting the rookies, but those are the only agents that will work with her.”

“Why? She’s a good agent. Easy to work with. What don’t they like?”

“They find her a little weird.” Freddie shrugged. “Anyway, see? You do like her, really.”

Nate sighed. He did. He did like working with Laura. He missed her, too. But it was a lot to take in—this psychic thing. He didn’t even know how far it went. Did she have visions of him when he was at home on his own? Did she see bits of his private life that he would rather keep separate from work?

And what was he supposed to do with all this new knowledge? Keep it secret for her?

Would he have to lie to their superiors—to Rondelle? On legal documents? In court?

It would be so much easier if people knew what she could do. She wouldn’t be weird—she’d be an asset. But then, he guessed there were negative sides to that coin, and it was her choice to make. Still, why hadn’t she ever tried to go public with it?

Nate sighed again. “Yeah,” he said, getting up. “Anyway. I’m going for lunch. See you later, Freddie.”

He had to get out of here. Before he could hand over the paperwork, before he could clear his desk, he needed answers.

It just sucked that the only one who could provide them was Laura.