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Tai sighed dramatically. “Well, a guy can hope…” His expression grew serious. “We’ve got news. You’re not gonna like it. Those goons at the hardware store are legit agents. Paige wasn’t able to get into their files, so I have no idea yet what case they might be working, but you can bet it involves Jane’s ex.”
Jane’s mind reeled. This changed everything. “Actual FBI agents?” she asked, needing to hear it again to believe it. “Are you absolutely sure?”
Tai nodded gravely. “Copy that. The shell casing was a match to standard issue Glock 19. And facial rec picked them up in the federal database.”
Bridger raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “This changes the threat level. If they have real Bureau resources, our operation just got a lot more complicated.”
He shared a tense look with Pegasus. Jane could sense the wordless communication passing between them, honed by years of working together. “What has Paige found on Sanderson?”
Tai made a face. “Guy’s a grifter for sure. Sorry Jane.” He grimaced.
She waved away his apology. It wasn’t anything but the truth.
“His last known employment was as a money manager for Sunshine Wealth Solutions, a medium-size shop out of San Diego. Paige says the outfit looks completely legit. She’s still trying to get access to their database, but there’s no obvious indication that the guy’s been terminated.”
“Why would the agents come at Jane so hard?” Pegasus asked. “That makes no sense.”
Bridger’s face hardened. “It does if they think she’s working with her ex. Whatever trouble Sanderson’s running from, he clearly implicated Jane.”
“Maybe,” Tai said. “But Pegs is right. This doesn’t feel right.”
Bridger squeezed the back of his neck. “No, it doesn’t.”
Jane’s pulse raced. The hardware store, the town she loved, felt very far away.
Bridger’s voice was steady when he spoke. “Nothing we haven’t tackled. Millions of times.”
On the screen, Tai rolled his eyes.
“Okay, like ten times,” Bridger admitted. “But we got this. Right?” He directed his question at Tai.
“I’m hurt you even need to ask.” The man pressed one huge hand to his massive chest and fluttered his eyelashes like a grandmother winding up to deliver a good, old-fashioned guilt trip.
Jane tried to smile. She appreciated the way the men tried to ease her nerves, but it wasn’t going to work this time.
Pete was involved with the FBI. And either he’d sent them after her for some unfathomable reason, or he’d led them to her by accident.
Either way, this was starting to get scary.
11
Bridger wincedas Pegasus prodded at the bandages on his upper arm. The kitchen table was cluttered with gauze, tape, and antiseptic: a makeshift triage center.
“Quit squirming,” Pegs ordered.
Bridger grimaced. “I’d rather take another bullet than your bedside manner.”
Jane watched them, arms folded across her chest. “So what’s our next move?”
Bridger met her gaze, seeing the fear and uncertainty lurking beneath the surface. He wished he could reach out to her, but the wall between them still stood.
Pegasus shrugged. “Hard to make a plan until we know who the players are, and what they want with your ex. And Jane.”
Bridger nodded, wincing again as his mentor taped on a fresh bandage. “I’ll bet he’s an informant. The Bureau always goes for the little fish. The FBI suits caught him, and they want him to rat out the bigger players.”
Jane wrinkled her nose. “Why would he run then?”
Bridger and Pegs exchanged a look. The woman nodded, an infinitesimal movement.
