Mostly.
Every now and then, she wondered what it would be like to have something steady with someone. Something where she could count on him to be there. She thought of Dee and Bob and how they still went to movies together on Sunday afternoons and how he sometimes brought home a pint of her favorite ice cream just to surprise her. She thought about Dee nagging him to take his heart meds and get off his feet in the heat of the day.
Of course, they fought, too, and many of their conversations ended with the slam of a screen door. It wasn’t a dream relationship by any stretch, but it was solid.
“So I’ve been reading about your brother,” Jon said. “National Merit Scholar. Full ride to Tech.”
She felt a swell of pride.
“Spent his sophomore year on academic probation.”
“How’d you know that? That’s part of his private record.”
“So what’s the deal there?” he asked, glossing over her question.
The deal with Gavin? Andrea wished she knew. “Gavin is very bright.” She paused. “But it’s a liability sometimes. He doesn’t fit in well.” She ran her thumb over the condensation on her bottle. “He’s a sweet kid. Well, you know. He can be. He’s twenty-two, so sometimes he’s pretty selfish, and I want to strangle him.”
She glanced up, and he was watching her, clearly waiting for her to say more.
“You have any siblings?” she asked.
“Two brothers and a sister. They’re doctors in Chicago, like my dad.”
“ All of them?”
“Well, except my sister. She lives in St. Paul.”
“But she’s a doctor?”
“A cardiologist.”
Wow. Andrea let that sink in, trying not to feel intimidated.
She picked up her beer. “So why didn’t you follow the family tradition?”
“I went to law school instead.”
She put a hand to her chest. “ That must have been a shock.”
He smiled, and she felt a warm rush. God, what was she doing here? She didn’t want to like him. She didn’t want to feel this pull of attraction. She definitely didn’t want to help him. But something about him—or maybe everything about him—got to her. He was a man she’d have a hard time refusing, and that was dangerous.
“So if you went to law school, why aren’t you practicing?” she asked.
“I did, for a while. Spent some time burning the midnight oil for a bunch of corporate clients. Then decided to apply to the FBI Academy.”
“How come?”
He hesitated, and she prepared for a glib answer.
“Because I believe in accountability.”
The simplicity of it surprised her. She watched him as she took a swig of beer, wondering if he was being honest here. She decided to push him. “Tell me about your murder case.” She set her beer aside.
“I did.”
“You really didn’t. I want to hear about the evidence. Call it professional curiosity.”
He seemed to consider that. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a homicide cop’s perspective, or maybe he just wanted to keep the conversation flowing. “It had been dormant for a long time,” he said.
“Six years.”
“Then Hardin’s name came up in another investigation, and our SAC—that’s the senior agent in charge—”
“I know.”
“He asked me to take a look, see what our friend Shay’s been up to the last few years.”
“And?”
“And turns out he’s been busy.”
“Buying up ranches. Doing the gun-show circuit. Does he have a job to pay for all this?”
He stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“What’s he do for money? That’s what I wanted to know, too.”
“It’s a logical question.” The waitress passed by, and Andrea ordered another round.
“You’re right.” He paused, and she got the impression he was holding something back. “He didn’t buy Lost Creek Ranch. Not like you’re thinking. He bought the surface rights only. Height of the drought, too. Got it for a steal. The owner kept the mineral rights, which is where the real value is.”
“So what’s with the gun shows? Is he a
Every now and then, she wondered what it would be like to have something steady with someone. Something where she could count on him to be there. She thought of Dee and Bob and how they still went to movies together on Sunday afternoons and how he sometimes brought home a pint of her favorite ice cream just to surprise her. She thought about Dee nagging him to take his heart meds and get off his feet in the heat of the day.
Of course, they fought, too, and many of their conversations ended with the slam of a screen door. It wasn’t a dream relationship by any stretch, but it was solid.
“So I’ve been reading about your brother,” Jon said. “National Merit Scholar. Full ride to Tech.”
She felt a swell of pride.
“Spent his sophomore year on academic probation.”
“How’d you know that? That’s part of his private record.”
“So what’s the deal there?” he asked, glossing over her question.
The deal with Gavin? Andrea wished she knew. “Gavin is very bright.” She paused. “But it’s a liability sometimes. He doesn’t fit in well.” She ran her thumb over the condensation on her bottle. “He’s a sweet kid. Well, you know. He can be. He’s twenty-two, so sometimes he’s pretty selfish, and I want to strangle him.”
She glanced up, and he was watching her, clearly waiting for her to say more.
“You have any siblings?” she asked.
“Two brothers and a sister. They’re doctors in Chicago, like my dad.”
“ All of them?”
“Well, except my sister. She lives in St. Paul.”
“But she’s a doctor?”
“A cardiologist.”
Wow. Andrea let that sink in, trying not to feel intimidated.
She picked up her beer. “So why didn’t you follow the family tradition?”
“I went to law school instead.”
She put a hand to her chest. “ That must have been a shock.”
He smiled, and she felt a warm rush. God, what was she doing here? She didn’t want to like him. She didn’t want to feel this pull of attraction. She definitely didn’t want to help him. But something about him—or maybe everything about him—got to her. He was a man she’d have a hard time refusing, and that was dangerous.
“So if you went to law school, why aren’t you practicing?” she asked.
“I did, for a while. Spent some time burning the midnight oil for a bunch of corporate clients. Then decided to apply to the FBI Academy.”
“How come?”
He hesitated, and she prepared for a glib answer.
“Because I believe in accountability.”
The simplicity of it surprised her. She watched him as she took a swig of beer, wondering if he was being honest here. She decided to push him. “Tell me about your murder case.” She set her beer aside.
“I did.”
“You really didn’t. I want to hear about the evidence. Call it professional curiosity.”
He seemed to consider that. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a homicide cop’s perspective, or maybe he just wanted to keep the conversation flowing. “It had been dormant for a long time,” he said.
“Six years.”
“Then Hardin’s name came up in another investigation, and our SAC—that’s the senior agent in charge—”
“I know.”
“He asked me to take a look, see what our friend Shay’s been up to the last few years.”
“And?”
“And turns out he’s been busy.”
“Buying up ranches. Doing the gun-show circuit. Does he have a job to pay for all this?”
He stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“What’s he do for money? That’s what I wanted to know, too.”
“It’s a logical question.” The waitress passed by, and Andrea ordered another round.
“You’re right.” He paused, and she got the impression he was holding something back. “He didn’t buy Lost Creek Ranch. Not like you’re thinking. He bought the surface rights only. Height of the drought, too. Got it for a steal. The owner kept the mineral rights, which is where the real value is.”
“So what’s with the gun shows? Is he a
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