Page 19 of The Agent


Font Size:  

Matteo scowled. “Will you at least text me when you get home to let me know you got there okay?”

“Only if you text me updates on this case,” she said with a smile far sweeter than was believable.

“Very funny.” He stopped at the top of the staircase leading back down to the precinct’s main level, surprising her by pulling her into a quick, semi-awkward hug. “Please go rest. And call me if you need anything. Or call Delia,” he added. “Just take care of yourself.”

Her emotions jumbled in her chest, but her stubbornness won out by a hair. “I’m fine, Matteo. Really.”

She turned and made her way down the steps. She’d no sooner gotten to the lobby of the precinct when her phone began buzzing insistently in her purse.

“What the heck?” she murmured under her breath, fishing the thing out of the side pocket where she always kept it. Today was a teacher workday, so no one would miss her at school. Who else would be calling her on a weekday afternoon?

Delia’s face greeted her from the caller ID, along with three missed texts time stamped barely even a minute ago.

Matteo said you were hurt in a bank robbery?!?!?

OMG, are you okay?

Seriously, please pick up.

Camila glared up at the second-floor landing, but—of course—her brother had disappeared. She fired off a quick, “REALLY, MATTEO?” text, followed by a pair of eyeroll emojis, then clicked over to respond to Delia’s texts.

I’m 100% fine. Got checked out at Mem and came to give a statement. I’m going home now for some rest. I’ll call if I need anything. Promise. XO.

Camila knew Delia was worried about her well-being, just as she knew what that felt like from when Delia had been in danger last year. But Camila wasoutof danger now, and what she wanted more than anything was for everyone to stop treating her like she was made of spun glass. So before Delia could text back—or worse, call again—Camila put her phone on Do Not Disturb and clicked over to her favorite rideshare app to schedule a lift home. Her stomach let out an unsubtle rumble, followed by a squeeze that bordered on discomfort, and Tess’s reminder to put food on top of her ibuprofen rang in her ears.

Camila made a mental note to order a sandwich on the way to her apartment, even though what she really wanted was a good, strong drink. She turned toward the precinct’s main doors with every intention of sailing right through them—takethat, protective older brother—but then she clattered to a halt, mid-step.

Roman stood about ten paces from the main doors, talking to a white woman in a light gray pantsuit. The woman had enough silvery threads peppering her dark hair for Camila to guess she was in her early fifties. Her expression brooked exactly no shit, even though Roman looked irritated enough to try and give her some regardless. They spoke in tones low enough to keep their conversation private, especially in the din of the busy lobby. Camila shouldn’t be surprised to see Roman here—he’d needed to give a statement, same as her. But tell that to her gut, which was pumping out nine kinds of curiosity even though whoever the woman was and whatever she was arguing with Roman about was none of Camila’s business.

She needed to move on. Walk right by and hitsendon her ride request and not worry one bit about Frosty the Snow Agent and his beautiful, pissed off scowl.

Naturally, her feet stayed glued to the spot. Becauseof coursethey did.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t take her eyes off of Kai Roman.

8

“Iunderstand your disappointment, Roman. But under the circumstances, I think it would be best to leave this particular case under the Intelligence Unit’s jurisdiction.”

Roman heard his boss’s words. Understood what each of them meant. But somehow, he couldn’t get his brain to string them together and process them in a way that made any fucking sense. “It’s a bank robbery. Of federally insured money. We’re the fraud unit for the local office of the FBI. How do wenottake this case?”

Agent Calloway lifted a brow, keeping her voice low and controlled despite the fact that Roman had almost certainly just pissed her off. “Technically, a case like this could easily fall under our jurisdiction,” she agreed, “ifone of my agents wasn’t both a witness and a victim. The Intelligence Unit is perfectly qualified to investigate a bank robbery. For cases like these, it’s a matter of discretion—namely, mine—as to whether or not we’d take point, and normally, I might be tempted. But because you were so directly involved, I’m choosing to hand it off to Intelligence.”

“I’m not a victim,” Roman said, unable to keep his frown on lockdown. “And it’sbecauseI’m a witness that we need to take this case. I have firsthand knowledge of the entire crime. I’m the best person to take these guys down.”

Ignoring the last part of his argument, she said, “You just gave a detailed statement on everything you heard and saw during the robbery. Therefore, all of your knowledge is on record. More importantly, I agree with Sergeant Sinclair. You’re too close to this one to be able to work it.”

“I’m not—”

She lifted a hand, cutting off his argument at the quick. “I’m not questioning your ability as an agent, Roman. You’re one of the best agents I’ve got.” Her normally scalpel-sharp gaze softened, and for fuck’s sake, just when he thought this couldn’t get any worse. “But you witnessed a bank robbery. Your life was threatened at gunpoint. It’s a big deal, yet here you are, trying to throw yourself into work.”

“I’m an FBI agent. It’s part of the package to be threatened at gunpoint,” he said. “Also, to throw myself into work.”

But she shook her head. “This wasn’t an op and you weren’t in the field. Besides, training doesn’t always override trauma, and you already work more than everyone else on the team combined. I’m worried about your wellness. I want you to take a couple of days off.”

His jaw cranked, his heartbeat drowning out the noise of the busy precinct lobby. “You’rebenchingme?”

“I prefer to call it a mental health break. But I need to be sure your head is in the right place. Go home, Roman. Rest. Call a therapist or a priest or a friend if you need one. Hell, air it out with a total stranger if that floats your boat, just as long as you don’t keep it all bottled up. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com