Grant chuckled. “A woman sent to help with a murder investigation disappears for four days and suddenly reappears is normal?” He tipped his head toward the seat. “Hop in. I want to see their reaction when you waltz in like it’s nothing to ghost them and come back as if nothing happened.”
“I’ll fill them in.”
“They might tell you to go home, even after you show up in person versus making a call.”
She slid into the passenger seat, pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder and clicked it in place. “I’ll deal with that then.”
Chapter 3
Grant rounded the hood of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat. He pulled out onto the road in front of the hospital and weaved his way through the streets, heading northeast out of Waco toward Shadow Valley. Once he cleared the congestion of traffic, he shot a glance toward Avery. “How was the sting operation in Florida?”
Avery’s brow furrowed. “Stressful.”
“I heard they captured all the main players in the syndicate.”
Avery nodded. “For the most part.”
“How was it coming back to the real world?” he asked softly.
She shrugged. “Strange. It’s like I’m still that person, but I’m not. I don’t always answer when people call me Avery.” She snorted softly. “When they asked me my name at the hospital, I told them Sofia Delgado.”
He didn’t tell her he knew that based on the call from the nurse. “Two years as Sofia leaves a mark. You had to become her to convince them of your authenticity.” He stole a glance at her again. “How was the takedown?” he asked softly.
She didn’t answer right away.
Grant thought she might not have heard him and was willing to let the question go. She didn’t have to tell him anything about the culmination of two years undercover. It was enough that she’d lived through it.
“It was intense,” she finally said. “A full-fledged battle scene like what I imagine you endured as a Navy SEAL.”
He reached across the console and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
She didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead, she curled her fingers around his and stared down at their joined hands. “Do you still have nightmares about your missions as a Navy SEAL?”
His fingers tightened around hers. “I do. Not as often, and usually when I’m stressed. Although sometimes it happens out of the blue. It’s called PTSD. Have you talked with a therapist? Did the bureau offer to set you up with someone?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t told them about the nightmares. I said I was fine and ready to go on to my next assignment.” She huffed a breath, and her lips twisted. “I thought they sent me to San Antonio as an easier assignment.”
Grant shook his head. “And the first thing they send you to investigate is a serial killer case?”
“The San Antonio office doesn’t know how deeply undercover I was on my previous gig.”
“Or the toll it took,” Grant added. “You might want to clue them in. Between a head injury and the stress of maintaining your cover for long with an exceedingly dangerous syndicate, it might not be a good time for you to take on a serial killer.”
She sat up straighter and stared at the road ahead. “I’m fine. Really,” she said, as if trying to convince herself. “My vision isn’t blurry, and my memory is returning. I feel almost physically normal, except for some bruising and a bit of a headache. I can do this. I just need to get there. And like you said, the nightmares will eventually fade.”
Grant shook his head but held his tongue. Avery was an excellent agent. She had nothing to prove to anyone else. But she pushed her limits as if she had to prove something to herself over and over. It was as if she had to right all the wrongs to make up for not being there for her mother.
Grant had been with her when she’d gotten the news that her mother had been murdered in her home in Kansas City. He’d flown with her from Virginia to Missouri to stand with her at the funeral and work through the nightmare of disposing of her mother’s home and belongings. As her mother’s only child, the responsibility had fallen on her alone since her father had died of a massive heart attack when she had been a teen. She and her mother had been tight, best friends.
Upon returning to Virginia, Avery had thrown herself into her work, always taking the tough cases and putting herself at risk to bring criminals to justice.
Grant had hated the toll it took on her mentally and physically. When she’d volunteered to go undercover, he’d hated that nothing he’d said would change her mind. He’d tried and now had a divorce decree to show for the effort.
“I heard you went back to Montana when you left the bureau,” Avery said, turning the conversation back in his direction.
“I did.” He glanced her way. “How did you find out?”
She shrugged. “I had my contacts, even while I was deep undercover.”
