She’d reached her car with Spike and me trailing behind her. Mr. Fuzzy had kept up a low-level growl the entire time. Now Kat turned so the ribbon-eating cat couldn’t see us and he went silent. “How’s your Sunday going?”
“Why don’t I drive?” I offered. “I can tell you what’s up on the way, and you and Gage will only have one car to drive home.” Plus, I wasn’t sure someone in her frazzled state should get behind the wheel.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ll remind you I’m certified in high-speed urban vehicle maneuvers, so stop worrying about my driving capabilities. But I’ll take you up on your offer because you showed up here in person, which means you’re in some kind of...” She glanced at her niece and seemed to think better of whatever she’d almost said, “You’re in enough of a mess to show up on my doorstep.”
She handed over Emma to me and shooed us toward my car, then climbed into the back of hers to pull out the child’s car seat. She moved the huge contraption to my back seat, only swore twice as she anchored it, then motioned for me to set Emma in it, where she strapped her in. She set Mr. Fuzzy, in his carrier, on the floor below the little girl.
“It’s not safe for your new friend to be up front,” she said. “But I’m not leaving a strange dog alone with a toddler, so I’ll sit here between them.” She patted the space to her left. “Put the puppy right here.”
“Roger that.”
I walked Spike to the other side of the car and hoisted him into the back seat. He settled in quickly and rested his head on Kat’s lap. Wordlessly, she petted his neck and scratched his ears. She was a true-blue animal lover, which was one of my favorite things about her.
“It a seven-minute drive, assuming you keep to the speed limit,” Kat said, “which you absolutely will do with my niece in the car.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So, talk fast.”
I did as ordered, bringing her up to date on the day’s events, starting with the moment I’d been accosted by the woman running down the sidewalk with Spike clutched in her arms, through discussions with Pasco and Ben, to the decision to come to her.
“I think the woman is on the up-and-up and she probably saved Spike’s life. I don’t know his actual name, by the way, or hers.”
“You’re telling me one of HEAT’s best-trained agents put a stranger and her dog—excuse me, notherdog, someoneelse’s dog—in his vehicle without calling it in or getting back-up.”
“Technically, yes.”
“And that was over two hours ago, and you’re just telling your boss about this potential security breach now.”
She typed into her phone as she spoke, which unnerved me. I had a feeling she was currently reporting the incident up the chain of command. And since Kat’s boss was the head of HEAT, my ass was going to be in a world of hurt for breaking protocol.
“All’s well that ends well, right?” I asked, hoping to get her agreement.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to find her glaring at me. “I wasn’t aware that anything had ended. Describe her to me.”
“Describe her?” Yes, I was stalling. And yes, that was futile because of course my boss was going to find out I’d been taken in by a pretty face.
“Youngish. Twenties. Maybe early thirties. It can be so hard to tell. Petite.” But with long, sexy legs. And wide blue eyes. And?—
“Hair color and length? Eye color?” Kat demanded
“Blonde, just below shoulder length. And blue.” I cleared my throat. “Blue eyes.”
She leaned forward and whisper-shouted in my ear. “For fuck’s sake, Rogers, even I know that’s your favorite type, and I do my damnedest to stay out of my agents’ dating lives.” She sat back and smiled at Emma, who was cooing atSpike. “Yes, he’s a nice doggie, isn’t he?” She shot another glaring look my way.
“First of all, I don’t discriminate. I have nothing against brunettes, redheads, rainbow colors. I’ve also dated tall women. And this has nothing to do with dating.”
“Everyone has their catnip, Rogers.” She leaned forward again and whispered. “If someone wanted to set a honey trap for you, what type, exactly, do you think they would send? Because I would send a hot, petite blonde.”
“An agent’s instinct counts for something, and mine is telling me she’s a good person.”
“You’re sure that’s your instinct talking?” She sighed. “Regardless, you’re not going to that meeting alone. Wheeler’s still out of pocket, but I’ll send Hayes and Lang.”
“Hayes is busy with family stuff.”
“You mentioned that. But at five fifteen, he’ll make himself available.”
I groaned. “If you’re ruining Ben’s day, there’s no need to ruin Lang’s, too.”
