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Grave Secrets (Manhunters 1)

Page 22

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“I just don’t know what kind of information she would have considering the two of them have been apart so long.”

“Or she could know everything,” Everly countered. “Maybe his crimes contributed to the divorce. She probably knows things that would help. Things she doesn’t even realize have power.”

“We could offer both Savannah and Rosen a way out,” Ian suggested. “They might jump at something as simple as relocation and work somewhere else in Montana.”

Roman nodded. “Rosen could be our eyes and ears inside the department. The ex could provide intel or evidence on Bishop’s ethical improprieties. Let’s start with Rosen,” Roman told Everly. “Propose the scenario. See how he responds.” Then he looked at Ian. “Since you’ve already made headway with the ex and son, stay focused there. Trade roles with Everly. Build trust. See what you can get while holding your cover.”

Ian cut a look at Everly—who was smiling like a little shit. “Whoa, boss. No one’s going to believe me as a waiter in a café.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time here,” Roman said. “Make it work.”

“I saw a help wanted sign at the mechanic’s shop a few storefronts from the café,” Everly offered with a flutter of lashes. “You’d make a great grease monkey.”

Ian gave Roman a pleading look. “Come on—”

“Do it.” Roman scooped up the contents of the folder Gianna had scattered across the table. “And do it fast.”

Roman turned out of the conference room and headed toward his office.

Ian glared at Everly, who was still smiling. “You little—”

“Don’t say anything you can’t take back,” she said in a singsong.

“I did some preliminary background on the ex,” Sam told Ian. “Her father is an unknown entity. Her mother is alive, but they appear to be estranged. Mother lives in Los Angeles, and get this, she’s been a devout Scientologist for over a decade. She’s married and has more children with the new husband—all working within the Scientology movement. I’ll hack her VPN today.” He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Anyone want to place a wager on what I’ll find?”

“Not me.” Everly stood and tugged on her parka. “I’ve already hit my jackpot.” She shot that gleaming grin at Ian. “I always wanted to be a miner, and you know I play better with boys. Don’t think I’d know what to do with a girlfriend. And kids? Eesh.” She faked a shudder, then met Ian’s gaze again. “Look at this as a chance to brush up on those flirting skills.”

On the way out, Everly patted Ian’s arm. “Oh, and I hope you like Pepto-Bismol pink. Your side of the duplex interior is covered in it.”

“Payback’s a bitch, Shaw,” Ian yelled at her back.

Everly kept walking with the sway of triumph in her step. “Bring it on, Heller. Bring it on.”

Roman hated this damn office space. With all the glass, he had nowhere to collect his thoughts without anyone watching.

He paused at his office door. Gianna had finished her call and now stood at the window, looking out at the blanket of snow, one arm crossed over her middle, the other hand rubbing her temple. She’d shed her suit jacket, and her hair had come loose from the sophisticated coil. Strands hung in loose spirals along the sides of her face; a few wisps trailed the nape of her neck.

Longing hit him low and hard. Longing to press his lips to that spot on the back of her neck. To feel the curve of her spine against his chest. For the millionth time since their one and only night together, Roman wished he’d slowed down and savored. But they’d been so hungry, hurting so badly…

He let his eyes close on the bittersweet memory and whispered, “Fuck.” Then pushed the door open.

Gianna glanced over her shoulder with a look that took him back two years. A look of pain, of hopelessness, of pleading that pierced his heart. She only let the vulnerability show for a split second before she recovered. “Sorry. I lost it a little with the team in there.”

He didn’t respond. What could he say? She’d lost her lover in that plane crash, a former assistant district attorney in DC. When the silence carried, he managed a rough “It’s understandable.”

“I’m getting pressed from every side—the president, the secretary of defense, Congress, Homeland Security… Not to mention my own rabid need to catch these guys. All those people. So many lives…” She exhaled heavily. Her shoulders sagged, and her brow pulled with sadness. “Roman…”

The softness of her voice, the turbulence in that one word, twisted his gut. But he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t want her, because he couldn’t have her. Not the

way he wanted: heart and soul. She’d spent one night in Roman’s bed. Then turned around and spent two years with a fancy suit. Roman had found a way to work with her, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. This time around, he couldn’t give her what she was looking for—distraction, a warm body, solace.

“I’ve got Everly on Rosen,” he told her. “She’ll work him as a CI and find her way into the mines.”

Gianna turned, a single line appearing between her brows. “A woman in the mines? Isn’t that…I don’t know, odd? Wouldn’t that increase suspicion?”

They were back to business. Good. This, Roman could do. “There are six other female miners. It’s not all that rare.”

“Six out of, what? Six hundred?”



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