He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Bye.”
He clicked the door shut and headed down the hall, hoping that by the time he got to the beach, his body was under control.
Jag staredat the grainy image of the person who’d delivered the box to Steff a few weeks ago. They still hadn’t identified who it was. They’d had a couple of possible hits, but after doing a comparison, everyone came to the conclusion they weren’t the same person.
“Who are you?” he muttered. “Who sent you?”
“You don’t think it was a courier company?” Deal wheeled his chair over to Jag’s desk.
Steff was safely ensconced in one of the conference rooms helping Teresa. No one had blinked when he and Steff had walked in. He’d already told Fox and his other teammates that she would be coming in, but Ox, Growler, Irish, Angel, and Isaac had all simply said it was good to see her, and Teresa had been beyond happy to have her help her. Jag wasn’t sure how much work was being done, or if they were chatting, but he didn’t care. The last time he’d looked in, Steff was smiling and looked relaxed. The shadows of her last attack no longer lurked around her like a dark cloud.
“I believe he could be a contractor, but I don’t think the job came through a courier company. I keep thinking it was done personally. Someone asked him to deliver it. Someone who knew the building and where the cameras were, and gave him a heads up so that we didn’t get a good image.” Jag stabbed his finger on the picture.
“That’s quite the theory.”
Jag looked at his friend. “With all the shit we’ve seen over our careers, and all the stuff everyone in this office has gone through, you know that even the most outlandish ideas could be possible.”
“You’re right.” Deal tapped the table. For a SEAL, it was a major tell when he was thinking or anxious. Although, come to think of it, Jag hadn’t really picked up on it when they’d been in the service. Was it a habit he’d picked up after they’d chaptered out, or had it always been there and Deal had kept it hidden?
It was something he could think about another day. Right now, his mind was on who the person was in the image.
Were they part of the overall plan?
If there was a plan, what was it?
What connection, if any, did they have with Steff?
Was this person just the puppet, and if so, who was the puppet master and why were they targeting Steff?
“Talk to me, Jag. I can see your mind turning things over.”
He gave Deal a rundown of everything he’d been thinking. All the questions that peppered his mind.
“The thing is, it’s been quiet since the package was dropped off. I haven’t even had that same feeling that someone was watching the hallway outside Steff’s apartment, since the first time I went over there. I’m starting to believe I imagined it all.”
“Nah, I still maintain if you felt it. It was there.” Deal sat back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know the lack of action for a couple of weeks seems to be pretty normal.”
Jag leaned forward interested in Deal’s assertion. “What do you mean?”
“Isaac and Marie, for instance. There was stuff that happened, and then nothing. Then it heated up again.”
“I don’t want it to heat up,” Jag stated, not liking that nothing had happened recently. “I much prefer the quiet. Do we pass it off as some prank?”
Deal shook his head. “Don’t think we can do that.” He touched a finger to the picture resting on Jag’s desk. “This person wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to make sure they’re identity wasn’t found out.”
“You’re supposed to lie to me,” Jag joked, knowing full well that there’s no way any of his friends would bullshit him to make him feel better.
“As if. All I will say is, don’t lower your guard. I don’t know what it is about the whole thing, but I think the person is closer to Steff than we think.”
All humor leached out of Jag. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, someone knows where Steff lives. They knew her apartment number. She’s only given that out to a few people.”
“We’ve run checks on everyone she told us who knows her address. They all came up clean.”
Deal shrugged. “That may be, but you and I know that most enemies keep their targets close.”
Jag hated that his friend was right. “Yeah, I know.”
