Page 44 of Long Past Deadly

Alanna didn’t have an office as such at QM, so she retreated to her living quarters on the fifth floor. She wanted no company. She needed the quiet after Drucker lectured her about her hearing, and she needed to think, to keep her reactions private. She swallowed two Tylenol, kicked off her shoes, and fell face first on the bed. Boss reports be damned. The room with its quiet colors and soft textures on the bed soothed as she’d hoped because the rest of her was in turmoil.

To find them all like that – together – left her on the outside. Not with meanness or on purpose, but with shared history she didn’t have with them. There was grief there, yes, but deep loyalty, too, all wrapped in an authentic brotherhood and a meaningful common purpose.

Quaid belonged right in the middle. They were close those six people. Their shorthand with each other, the shared wound, their trust, and the instinctive protection said it all. Those men had been to war together, and it united them.

Seeing Quaid without his mask cracked her impressions of him, too. She didn’t know his full story and had used her assumptions instead. Foolish and short-sighted. He wasn’t shallow. He compartmentalized, only giving the personal parts of himself to those who cared enough to understand him. Granted, she had only interacted with him superficially for two weeks and intensely for three days, but facing death together changed both of them.

She’d been at the FBI for close to seven years, and she had people she knew, a boss she trusted, but none did she let in.

That chilled her.

She swept apart the bed to cover herself with the white fuzzy blanket, needing the warmth even though the room was a perfect temperature.

A reaction to teenage trauma or a choice?

Maybe both, but she wasn’t a team with those people like QM was to its crew or like those six friends were to each other. She never realized the depth of that deficit, what it meant, or that it would tear at tender places because it was a flaw inside her.

To have a partner, a colleague, a friend to turn to – she drew in a sharp breath and held it, trying to squash the spreading ache – that idea had always represented a risk, a danger in her world, and she’d never wanted to take it. Until now…

Chapter Nine

QM International Situation Brief: 20:30:15 PST 12/17 – San Diego HQ. Threat remains active. Suspect identified; location unknown. All personnel maintain heightened vigilance. Security level 3 remains in effect. Ϙ

Quaid walked through the six-story headquarters of QM International and acknowledged the pride he had in the company. Five years of patience and determination resulted in a cutting-edge, modern building that stood out in the industrial corridor. The sleek concrete-and-glass structure was crowned by a discreet mirrored-black logo on the top floor. Elizabeth got full credit for every design ideas that came to life in the structure. The woman knew how to create an image. The building itself was a simple construct with good bones. Remodeling to fit what they needed had been massive.

Security, Armory, Motor Pool, and Logistics were the first two floors. Admin and Operations took the entirety of the third floor. Fourth consisted of the Medical Bay and Clinic, the dayroom, kitchen, and a few conference areas. Fifth was all quarters for those who needed to live in and guest suites. Sixth was mostly unoccupied with a workout area on one side and supply storage consuming the rest, although they had managed a beautiful wedding in the space. Elizabeth had plans for the floor and to buy the building behind theirs and execute a massive expansion plan. She had the ideas, organizational experience with his grandfather’s hotels, and the savvy. Quaid and Mackey brought the business in.

He stepped off the elevator, debating a workout to relieve some stress. He passed through the day room, waved at the six men and one woman there, but didn’t stop.

He arrowed to the Medical Bay.

“How’s Delaney?” Bailey Tanner yelled after him.

“Fine. Surgery went well. He’ll be released tomorrow to our Medical Bay.” He turned into the clinic searching for Drucker. All the beds were empty, which was good news. The man rolled away from the corner cubicle to check who had entered.

“Where’s Williams?” He shouldn’t bark at the man, but he was worried about her.

Drucker ignored his demeanor as usual. “If she did what I ordered her to do, she’s in her room to rest. Haven’t seen her for a couple hours.”

Quaid did a quick pivot, debated getting the master access card, then rejected it. He’d promised her.

Hunt, Cait, and Elizabeth had taken Alanna’s advice and left to visit Bess and break the news. Harrison was back in Operations using what information he had from Cait to try to find Baxter’s girl. Mackey groaned but was in the midst of a full check in with all twenty-two protection teams across the globe. Kerry, their tech guru, was handling the morgue search for Esme having drawn a blank on Mercer until she had more information. Three other operations people worked on the seven other open cases they had. Remy St. Claire was deepening the search for Whit. Quaid didn’t care what that meant. He let Remy do his job. He and Mackey were thick like thieves with similar work habits.

He and Alanna still had work to do. Questions. So many fucking questions, and he had no clue how to ask. Because he wanted the whole story of the night Mercer hurt her, and not because it mattered to the case, but because it mattered to him. And fuck it, she needed to talk about it. All of it.

He wasn’t thinking straight at this moment. He was reacting. He wanted her close because he had a niggling sense that she would shut down and walk away unless he made it impossible for her to.

Did he sound crazy? Yes, he did. But if anybody needed a friend and a partner, it was her. He was that man. When she’d closed his office door to protect their conversation, the considerate act crushed him.

She had to feel left out.

Who wouldn’t?

But she recognized the moment, offered to help, and Elizabeth approved.

Shit. Elizabeth didn’t approve of any of the women he’d been involved with.

Bailey stopped him again on his return. She was an average height, curvy woman with blonde hair and hazel eyes, and was a terror with a sniper rifle – any weapon honestly. The former FBI agent used to hunt the most wanted fugitives. They should use her on this.