The hardest part of this drive has been keeping it from Anastasia. If she knew we were coming here, she would have tried to stop us. Or, at the very least, tried to tag along. Neither could happen. Not if we’re trying to get a legitimate read off her ex-boyfriend.
Zane and I both step out of the elevator and onto the second floor of the Savannah, Georgia, FBI field office. We’re both wearing visitor badges issued to us by the front office, only after we said we had pertinent case information for Agent Jack Weathers. Who, naturally, had not been happy to hear we were there.
I’m honestly surprised he even allowed them to let us up.
The hall is long and lined with offices. Some of the doors are open, some closed. Given it’s my first time in an FBI building, I have to say—not what I was expecting.
Jack steps out of an office at the end of the hall, his grey gaze sharp, stance defensive. This is going to go great. Since Anastasia’s phone hasn’t gone off in my pocket, I can hope he didn’t let her know we were here. Which should give me time to explain why we came here before she finds out.
“To what do I owe this lovely visit?” Jack asks as he reaches out and shakes Zane’s hand. I don’t miss the way he doesn’t bother reaching for mine. Interesting.
“Can we talk in private?” Zane asks.
“Sure.” Jack gestures toward his office, so Zane and I move inside. He closes the door, boxing us in. If it weren’t for the window just behind the desk, I might have reopened the door. Jack sits behind his desk. He’s shed his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, leaving the badge on his waist and the gun holstered at his hip on full display.
“I wanted to know if you’ve had any contact with my sister since?—”
“She left me for Sawyer? No, can’t say that I have,” he spits out.
“First of all, she didn’t leave you for me. Second, you’re the one who ended things,” I correct.
Jack glares at me. “We both know why things didn’t work out between us. So, how about you get to the point as to why you’re here before I decide to arrest you on all the digital crimes we both know you’ve committed over the years.”
It’s all a bluff because there’s no proof.
“Someone has been harassing her.”
Jack’s entire demeanor shifts at Zane’s words. Gone is the anger on his face, the frustration about us being here. His gaze widens, and his jaw clenches. He really does love her. Which, of course, makes me feel even worse. “What do you mean harassing her?”
“It started as a late-night phone call, then moved into this.” I reach into my bag and withdraw the Ziploc containing the stuffed orange cat I opened up in the middle of the night.
Jack takes it, studying the stuffed animal with all the suspicion that I’m sure makes him great at his job. “Was it sent to her before or after it was sliced open?”
“Before.” I glance over at Zane for confirmation before I give up the next piece of evidence.
He offers me a nod, letting me know he doesn’t think Jack is behind it, either. And if he’s not behind it, then he might be our best chance at finding out who is before things escalate.
“I pulled this out of it.” I withdraw a second bag from a concealed, lined compartment in my messenger bag that kept it hidden from the x-ray machine they sent it through upon our arrival. This one containing the bug that had been inside the orange cat.
“A bug.”
I nod. “It was inside the cat, with enough stuffing packed around it that it made it hard to feel.”
Jack studies me, then looks down at the bug. “When did she get this?”
“Two days ago.”
“The courier?”
“She said he wore a brown uniform. But that’s all she remembered. It had tracking information that originated here in Savannah.”
Jack glares up at me. “Do I want to know what else you’ve found out?”
“Sure. So long as you don’t ask too many questions about how I came about the information.”
Jack sighs. “I’m assuming you tracked the calls?”
“Most of them bounced off of towers all over the world,” Zane says. “But last night, the unlisted number originated here in Savannah.”
