Cody Walker's Woman

“How long do you expect Trace to stay with Callahan?” she asked. “That cover story won’t work for more than a couple of weeks at the most.”

Cody considered her question. “I don’t know. It all depends on how much manpower D’Arcy is willing to assign to the case and what we can uncover about the New World Militia in that time. It’s possible Tressler’s death doesn’t have anything to do with the militia—although I doubt it. It would be too much of a coincidence. But if Callahan and McKinnon solve the murder, then the immediate danger will be over. It doesn’t resolve the issue of the hit list, but...”

“It would be a start,” she finished for him.

“Yeah.”

Keira yawned unexpectedly. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess last night is catching up with me. Maybe I should nap now, so I can drive later.”

He cast her a sideways glance and realized she looked tired...about as tired as he felt. But they still had more than five hours of driving ahead of them, so it was probably a good idea for her to nap even though part of him wanted her to stay awake so he could talk to her.

But what would he say? Callahan had told him he couldn’t fight what he was starting to feel for Keira but he could lock it away, and he’d agreed it was what he should do. You just don’t want to, a little voice inside his head told him.

Should he tell her Callahan had witnessed the kiss they’d shared in the cabin? Bad idea, Walker. She’d already been embarrassed enough when he’d confessed he’d told Callahan about how they’d met. She’d be devastated to learn the other man had seen the two of them in a compromising situation. Keira was so sensitive about being taken seriously as a member of the team, she might even request D’Arcy remove her from the case. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Cody let his eyes stray from the road in front of him for a second and saw that Keira was already asleep. She must have been more tired than she would admit, he thought with sudden tenderness. In sleep her face was soft, sweet and defenseless, and he knew she would hate it—would hate knowing he’d seen her vulnerable again.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. Guess that will have to be my secret.

* * *

Not quite two weeks later Cody sat in his office staring at his computer screen, but his thoughts were only partially on the document he was skimming. The other part of his mind was miles away, wondering how Callahan was holding up without his wife and children, wondering how Mandy was doing without her husband.

Callahan had been right—Memorial Day had come and gone with no trouble from the New World Militia. But he had adamantly refused to let Mandy and the children return home, insisting it wasn’t safe for them, especially since McKinnon was going to have to return to Denver Sunday—his cover story had lasted for two weeks, but beyond that was going to look suspicious.

“I can take care of myself,” Callahan had told him when Cody had suggested sending another agent to guard him. “But my family can’t come home. Not until we know who killed Steve Tressler. Not until we know what he tried to tell me before he died and what that key opens. It’s been almost two weeks, damn it, and we don’t know any more now than we did then!”

The statement wasn’t quite true. The backup team that had cleaned up Callahan’s house had determined the original crime scene was Tressler’s cabin, just as Callahan had surmised. They’d returned the body there but left it in his truck, as if he’d tried to drive away but died before he could. Callahan and McKinnon had “discovered” the body and had opened an investigation into his death as if Tressler had never appeared at Callahan’s house, as if he’d never had a chance to utter those cryptic words.

There were more agents assigned to the case now. The original two backup teams D’Arcy had dispatched to Buffalo and Sheridan had been joined by two dozen more teams spread across the country. And Cody now spent most of his time coordinating everyone’s actions and reading reports generated by the agents in the field rather than doing any fieldwork himself.

In all this time they’d managed to uncover a whole lot of...nothing. Yes, Callahan had been correct. The New World Militia had risen like a phoenix from the ashes of six years ago. But they hadn’t uncovered any evidence to link it to illegal arms stockpiling, drug trafficking or any of the activities the militia had been involved in before. In fact, if Tressler hadn’t been murdered the way he had, D’Arcy might have pulled the plug on the investigation. But he was dead. And somewhere there was a clue as to why. They just had to find it.