Page 81 of Three Steps Behind

“Oooh. I can’t wait to see my surprise,” she lied.

“See you then. Sleep well.”

“You too.” She blew him a kiss, like always. Man, this was the hardest con of her life, and she’d had some doozies, but this . . . Pretending to be in love with a man she now abhorred was painful and beyond awkward.

Dalton disappeared into the elevator. The doors slid shut, and she slumped back in her open doorway, closing her eyes. How was she going to manage this without losing her mind? Not to mention being very careful not to tip him off. How was she going to get away with asking more questions than usual?

“Excuse me, miss. I just moved in next door, and I could use a flashlight. My electricity appears to be off.”

“It’s probably the breaker. It happens a lot,” she said, opening her eyes.

Aubry stood right beside her.

“What—”

He covered her mouth and signaled for her to hush, then tugged her across the hall into an apartment.

He let go of her and shut the door.

“What is going on?” she asked.

“I found several of these in your apartment.” He held up a minuscule bug. Just like the one she’d placed on Dalton’s belt buckle. He’d been spying on her. For how long?

“Did he have hidden cameras as well?” She was half joking, half serious.

“Thankfully, no. Or he would have seen us sweeping for bugs.”

She swayed. How close was he to being onto her, and how did that surprise tie in? Or at all? The queasiness in her gut rocked her.

“Here,” Aubry said, sliding a chair up to the back of her legs.

She slumped down in it, letting the chair support her weight. “I can’t keep doing this. How much longer?”

“I don’t know. . . . I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For what he is. For what you’re having to go through to help nail him.”

“Sweet comment, but you’re the one making me.”

He strode around her chair to face her, sincerity blanketing his face. “I’m not making you. The Bureau is.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t send me in there if you were in charge?” She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were in charge.”

“I’m in charge of the op in the field, but I don’t call the big shots.”

“That’s reassuring,” she said with typical snark. “Then who does?”

“My boss. Special Agent Evan Baxter.”

“He’s not even here.” She’d never even seen the man. “How can he possibly know what shots to call when he’s not here?”

“I report to him.”

“So you are in control.”

He cocked his head. “How do you figure that?”