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“I came to talk to you.”
Lucy put up a shield, so obvious to Sean that he practically saw the veil fall over her expression. She walked down the hall to the dining room, but Sean said, “Let’s go in the family room. A little more comfortable, don’t you think?”
She shrugged but led him back. He’d been to the house a couple of times with Patrick. It was far more formal than the RCK house, though the family room was cozy and well lived in.
Lucy sat Indian style on the chair closest to the fireplace, not an open hearth like at RCK, but enclosed and functional, designed to heat the house.
“Well, I thought we should celebrate,” Sean said as he sat on the couch, “but I forgot to pick up champagne.”
“Celebrate?”
“I talked myself out of a speeding ticket.”
Sean grinned widely and Lucy smiled, just a bit. “You did?”
“Yep, the trooper was a hard sell, but that’s simply a new challenge.”
“How?”
“My charm and wit.”
She laughed, then covered her mouth as if she’d surprised herself.
“I can’t give away all my secrets,” Sean said. “But I did want to talk to you about something.”
His tone, though he tried to keep it light, gave him away, and Lucy’s good humor quickly dissipated. She was exceptionally perceptive, even to the subtlest signs. It was unnerving, and Sean almost didn’t tell her what he was up to. But her family had kept her in the dark for years; he wasn’t going to start this new friendship—this relationship—with deception.
“Patrick called me earlier and wanted to fly back, but I convinced him to stay in California and finish the job.”
Lucy rubbed the back of her neck. “I talked to him late last night and told him not to come, that I’m fine. Morton’s dead; he can’t hurt me.”
Physically was the unspoken word. “That’s what I said, but Patrick’s concerned and asked if I’d kind of keep an eye out for you. I wanted to be up front about that, because I promised him I would.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything.
Sean continued. “One of the things we’re concerned about, from a security perspective, is that we don’t know why Morton came to D.C. It probably has nothing to do with you, but because he was killed nearby, and we don’t know what he was up to, I’m going to look into Morton’s death. On the q.t.”
Lucy had to have heard Sean wrong. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, her light dinner now feeling like a lead ball. She could understand Patrick asking Sean to check up on her, that didn’t really bother her that much—in fact, it bothered her not at all—but what did that really have to do with Morton?
She said, “I don’t get it. Why?”
Sean leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “It’s my job, it’s what I do best, Lucy, but I don’t want to do it behind your back. I’m not going to interfere with the FBI investigation, but some of my research may cross paths with theirs, and I don’t want you to be surprised.”
She shook her head. Nothing about this would end well, she was certain of it. “I can’t have you crossing any paths with the FBI. It could hurt my chances getting accepted.”
“I have many contacts, and the FBI has many limitations.”
But maybe it wasn’t just that Sean might get in hot water with the Bureau. It was that he would be digging into her life and her past. It would be inevitable, even if Morton’s murder had nothing at all to do with her.
Except that wasn’t the case. Kate was at Quantico now because Morton had been starting Trask Enterprises all over again.
“Lucy?”
“The FBI found evidence in Denver that Morton was re-creating a new online sex website,” she said quietly, unable to look Sean in the eye. “Kate’s going through the files at Quantico.”
Sean didn’t say anything. Her stomach tightened even more, and she thought she might be sick. She didn’t want to talk about any of this with Sean, but she didn’t see how she could avoid it.
“Luce.” Sean took her hands into both of his. She stared at their joined hands, a warmth spreading through her, relaxing her better and faster than any of her panic-control techniques, as if he were drawing her tension into him.
