Page 10 of Targeted By Desire

Maria’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d done. Averting her gaze, she returned to signing. His name is Miles. But, he’s not the reason I was suggesting we go there. You have unfinished business, remember?

The mention of the agent summoned the fantasy looming over the back of my head. The one with her body flushed against mine and my hands around her neck. The thought of it almost made me smile. “Would your boyfriend be willing to get us into the FBI’s database again?”

He’s not my boyfriend. But, yeah probably. She tilted her head. Why? I can hack into her personal information on my own.

“I’ll need more than her personal information if this is going to work,” I explained. Feds are usually equipped with years of training and experience. I’d gotten caught off guard the first time when she tried to protect my target. A few times in the struggle, she almost had me. I couldn’t let that happen again. And sometimes those federal files knew more about the agents than they knew about themselves.

I needed to know every nook and cranny of her life. Of her mind.

To kill her properly, I needed her in a vulnerable state, leaving me with two options: find her weakness or tear down every single wall and defense mechanism she had. Judging from the fire in her eyes, neither one was going to be easy.

Still, I was up for the challenge. Spirits were just like bones - if you bend them hard enough, they’ll break.

And I couldn’t wait to see the cracks I was going to make in hers.

THE AGENT

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Logan glanced at the open doorway of his office at the sound. He was sitting behind his desk, typing away on his computer. A crease appeared between his brows at the sight of me. “Simone,” he greeted, feigning joy to hide his confusion. “What brings you in here on your day off?”

The subtle scent of peppermint from the oil diffuser on his desk greeted me as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “Oh, I was going for a long jog and happened to stumble into the neighborhood.”

“You should be resting. Not running.” He tilted his head. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” I replied with a shrug. I held up the folder I was carrying in my hands. “Since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I could show you some things I found last night that might help with this case.”

“Simone,” he scolded, his voice taking a stern turn. “I gave you time off to relax.”

“I did relax. I binged some reality television while I did my research. Perfect brain rot to combat the heavy stuff I was looking at.”

He sighed. “And what did you find?”

I took some of the documents out of the folder and handed them to Logan. “Well, Gabriel and I were talking and we definitely think the attack on Lorenzo was professional. Gabriel gave me the street name of a group known for kill-for-hire that were big in the eighties and nineties. We researched crime lords and runners with deep grudges held against them, and with some, we found their deaths were not done as traditionally as others. Some were self-inflicted, some accidental, and a few even appeared to be natural unless you took a closer look at the toxicology report. They were all murdered, but the execution was so precise and clean that they couldn’t pin the classification on it.”

“Okay…” He leafed through the documents. “What does this have to do with the other night?”

“Before I came in, our murderer had a gun to Lorenzo’s head - not on his forehead, but his temple. He was going to make it look like a suicide. Not to mention he had the skill set to bypass our security measures and infiltrate the premises.” And he also handed my ass to me, but I wasn’t saying that out loud.

“And you think he could be affiliated with this group?”

I nodded. “It’s just a theory for now, but he definitely has training from somewhere.”

Logan gave a cursory glance over one of the case files. “You have a good foundation of research here, but I don’t think I’ll be able to convince the brass that this needs our attention.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because, as useful as Rizzalli was going to be, he and the rest of the people in these files are convicted criminals.”

“What does that have to do with anything? They’re still human beings! Plus, all of these are textbook cases of first degree murder and conspiracy!”

“I understand that, but that doesn’t change the fact that their targets are those that society is better off without. I mean, look at them: most of them are kingpins and traffickers and killers. If anything, the brass is going to look at me and tell me this organization is doing our job better than we are.”

“And what if their target wasn’t a criminal? What if our man killed me the other night? What would the brass say then?”

Logan frowned. “Simone,” he started.

“No. Tell me. How much money and resources would the brass shovel if it were one of their own? Or would they shove my death under the rug too? Considering I’m not their idea of the perfect victim either.”