“It’s probably not a good idea to head in just yet.”
The agent’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Up close, he was composed. Too much so, maybe. Suit immaculate, expression neutral to the point of indifference, as if the escalating noise only feet away didn’t affect him at all.
Another burst of chanting echoed down the corridor as the doors opened and shut again.
“Yeah. The ballroom isn’t a good idea,” he added. “Maybe when things settle down.”
She glanced between the ballroom and the windows. Standing here waiting and wondering wasn’t better.
“I know a quiet place,” he said. “Great view of the city.”
The Marriott had an observation deck. He had to mean that.
“I don’t know. Vince might be right back.”
He tapped his earpiece. “I’ll let him know.”
She considered his suggestion. If Vince had handed her off to Agent Morgan, he must trust him. If not her own personal Ranger, who better than an FBI agent?
A sign, “TEXAS AIN’T FOR SALE,” slammed hard against the window. It didn’t shatter but left a jagged crack.
“Quiet will be a nice change,” she said. “But only until things calm down.”
He gestured toward the bank of elevators on the other side of the hall. As they moved away from the noise, he tapped his earpiece. “She’s with me. We’re relocating now.”
His voice was neutral and professional, but she sensed his underlying tension.
“Is something happening?” she asked.
“Just checking in. Standard procedure when I leave my zone.”
He punched the call button, and the elevator doors opened immediately. He waited and let her enter the empty car first.
“How long have you known Lieutenant Cooper?” she asked as the metal doors slid shut and the car lurched into motion.
“Only a week. Our paths have crossed on a case. You?”
“Less than a month,” she replied, reflecting silently on how it seemed much longer than that. Erica frowned when the light above the door lit for G instead of 2.
“Shouldn’t we be going up?”
He didn’t answer. The elevator did it for him, the doors sliding open to reveal the garage. The dim lights cast long shadows, and the air was cool and damp. Nowhere close to the world they’d just left.
A distant drip, the slam of a car door, every sound echoed off the concrete. A black SUV with tinted windows idled nearby.
She retreated to the rear wall. “No. I’m not getting out here. What’s going on? Where’s Coop?”
Again, Morgan didn’t answer. Instead, his hand closed around her upper arm in a firm, near-painful grip. She tried to pull away, but he dug in harder.
The contrast with Vince hit hard. From the very beginning, she’d felt safe. Protected. Exactly what you should feel from someone sworn to protect.
With Morgan, cold flooded through her. His oath was meaningless. Justice was not his priority. With him, everything was transactional.
He tugged her forward. “Come on.”
“No.” She dug her heels in. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
