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It was becoming a pain in the ass, more so than normal, to apprehend the criminals hiding behind third-world nations and international connections.
Shaking her head at the thought, she turned and headed into the kitchen. The scent of smooth, rich coffee wafted through the air, tempting her. But something more drew her as well: the sound of hushed voices, male and female. John’s and an unknown woman’s.
She drew closer on silent feet, edging to the doorway but still unable to hear exactly what they were saying.
Lips thinning, she checked the holstered weapon she’d clipped at her back, beneath her light sweater, before straightening her shoulders and sliding into the room.
John turned to her immediately, his expression closed as the redhead standing close to him hid a quick smile.
Slender, toned, her red-gold hair flowing down her back, her sea-green eyes both amused and cynical, the other woman appeared both worldly and innocent, as well as familiar.
Dressed in jeans, boots, and a heavy sweater, the younger woman looked like a tourist out for a hike rather than someone who would be involved in what Bailey had decided was John’s very dangerous life.
Tilting her head to the side, she stared back at the woman as she tried to ignore the stinging bite of jealousy. Thou
gh John seemed more irritated by the woman than aroused by her. Funny, but she could have sworn the curve of his lips, the way his nose flared, and the jut of his jaw were identical to Trent’s when he had been irritated.
“Hello, Bailey. I hope you don’t mind if I call you Bailey.” The redhead didn’t wait for an introduction. She moved across the room, her hand extended in greeting as a bright smile curved her lips. “I’m John’s handler, Tehya.”
“His handler?” Bailey arched her brow as she turned back to John, shooting him a curious look while shaking the woman’s hand.
Distantly, she noticed the less-than-baby-soft smoothness of Tehya’s palm, the firm grip, the warmth and lack of moisture. This wasn’t a woman who would show nerves easily, or even feel them easily. She was confident, determined, and showed no signs of an agenda.
“My handler.” He nodded. “Every good broker has one.”
“It’s what makes a broker good.” Tehya grinned. “Every good assassin has one as well. That was Orion’s weakness. His handler was frightened of him rather than confident in his area of expertise. He knew Orion would have him killed when he retired.”
“Seems like a good idea to me. When do I get to retire?” John snorted.
Tehya chuckled as she stepped back from Bailey.
“Last I heard, most handlers call rather than visit in person,” Bailey pointed out as she moved to the coffeepot. “When did that rule change?”
“A good handler knows when to call and when to visit.” Tehya shrugged her almost fragile shoulders. “Some information you don’t want tracked over open phone lines, and even secure connections can be hacked.”
That was no more than the truth.
“What was so important that you were forced to make the journey from England, then?”
Bailey timed the question perfectly. Turning, she caught Tehya’s surprised look and the flare of suspicion in John’s gaze.
Hiding her smile behind the coffee cup as she sipped at the fragrant brew, she let the knowledge that she had her own sources sink in.
“How did you find me?” Tehya seemed more curious than upset. “Better agents than you have searched for me.”
“You were in Atlanta as well,” Bailey stated. “Along with Jerric Abbas and Travis Caine. Once I tied you to all three men it wasn’t hard to connect the dots and find you. You should be more careful.”
“No doubt,” Tehya murmured quietly.
No doubt. Bailey could sense the growing curiosity inside the other woman. It wouldn’t be every day that she was tracked so easily. It was simply that Bailey had a driving reason to track the woman. The more she knew about the men she was tracking at the time, the better off she was. And sensing that Micah Sloane was her missing cousin had only given her added incentive.
She noticed the look Tehya and John exchanged then: Bailey shouldn’t have been able to track her. Tehya was actually hidden very well, and pulling out background on the woman was like pulling teeth.
“So tell me, how did you track me to England?” Tehya asked bluntly. “You shouldn’t have been able to.”
“It wasn’t that hard.” Bailey moved to the breakfast table and the bagels and spreads her housekeeper had laid out for breakfast. “Residents of the village you call home recognize you. It’s where you go when you leave there that I’ve had trouble following.”
“Well, as least some secrets are still safe,” Tehya quipped. “You’re dangerously good, Ms. Serborne.”
