Read Online No Good Deed by Allison Brennan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Allison Brennan
Ads: Link
an Air Force Raven protecting US planes on foreign soil and transporting prisoners internationally. And while he’d planned on being a career air force officer, he’d found a calling in the FBI.
It helped that he was most often assigned special cases by Assistant Director Rick Stockton. Technically, he was a field agent working out of the DC regional office, unassigned to a specific squad, but Noah spent most of his time investigating cases for Stockton. Projects that needed complete discretion. The promotion had no impact on what he did for Stockton, but came with a small pay raise and a private office. Noah found more value in the door than he did in the nominal salary increase.
But even the call he’d received from Stockton’s private cell phone thirty minutes ago was odd. The assistant director told him to come to an address in nearby Alexandria, Virginia, and not tell anyone. When Noah arrived, he found waiting for him both Rick Stockton and Dr. Hans Vigo, another assistant director who’d recently returned to duty after being on medical leave for several months.
Hans didn’t look like his old self—he’d lost a substantial amount of weight and looked all of his fifty-some years. He could have taken disability since he’d been nearly killed in the line of duty, or retired early because he already had more than twenty years in the Bureau, but he’d chosen to return to work. Hans had no immediate family, no children, no wife—his life was his job. Mandatory retirement was still a few years away.
Noah didn’t want that kind of life for himself, but he was nearly forty and hadn’t been on a serious date in months. Years. He’d been in love once. So deep in love he’d crossed an ethical line he’d sworn he’d never cross. But instead of losing his soul, he walked away and lost his heart. Only one person had come close to breaking down those barriers, but she was taken, and he wouldn’t pursue an unavailable woman—even if he thought he was the better man for her.
A coroner’s van was parked on the street at the address Noah had been given, along with several Alexandria police cars, officers standing outside the narrow end-unit town house.
He approached Rich and Hans waiting on the small porch. Someone was dead, and if two assistant directors were here, that meant murder and the victim was a fed. “Who was killed?”
“Logan Dunbar was murdered last night.”
“Dunbar?” Noah was one of the few people who knew that Logan Dunbar had been working undercover, gathering evidence against Texas Congresswoman Adeline Reyes-Worthington who’d been suspected of a multitude of political corruption crimes. Noah had been working the DC angle with the other members of Dunbar’s small team. Dunbar’s assignment was cut short when the congresswoman was murdered. Her crimes were far more severe than bribery—drug running, gunrunning, money laundering, conspiracy to commit murder. Noah had been wading through the documentation that Dunbar had compiled, and they’d planned a huge debriefing later this week. She wasn’t the only corrupt official in the middle of the shitstorm. “I just spoke to Dunbar on Friday.”
Rick said, “He flew back last night. We don’t know if his killer followed him from the airport or was already here. I’ve called in a forensics team directly from the lab—I want our best people on this.”
“You think it’s connected to his assignment in San Antonio.”
“I don’t know,” Rick said. “But very few people knew he was coming back last night. My office. His direct supervisor. You. And his next-door neighbor who was watching his place while he was gone. But Dunbar could have told any number of people, both in San Antonio or here. It wasn’t like he needed to keep the information secret, now that his assignment was over.”
Noah didn’t know Dunbar well—most of their conversations had been over the phone or via encrypted email—but Noah knew he was a diligent,
It helped that he was most often assigned special cases by Assistant Director Rick Stockton. Technically, he was a field agent working out of the DC regional office, unassigned to a specific squad, but Noah spent most of his time investigating cases for Stockton. Projects that needed complete discretion. The promotion had no impact on what he did for Stockton, but came with a small pay raise and a private office. Noah found more value in the door than he did in the nominal salary increase.
But even the call he’d received from Stockton’s private cell phone thirty minutes ago was odd. The assistant director told him to come to an address in nearby Alexandria, Virginia, and not tell anyone. When Noah arrived, he found waiting for him both Rick Stockton and Dr. Hans Vigo, another assistant director who’d recently returned to duty after being on medical leave for several months.
Hans didn’t look like his old self—he’d lost a substantial amount of weight and looked all of his fifty-some years. He could have taken disability since he’d been nearly killed in the line of duty, or retired early because he already had more than twenty years in the Bureau, but he’d chosen to return to work. Hans had no immediate family, no children, no wife—his life was his job. Mandatory retirement was still a few years away.
Noah didn’t want that kind of life for himself, but he was nearly forty and hadn’t been on a serious date in months. Years. He’d been in love once. So deep in love he’d crossed an ethical line he’d sworn he’d never cross. But instead of losing his soul, he walked away and lost his heart. Only one person had come close to breaking down those barriers, but she was taken, and he wouldn’t pursue an unavailable woman—even if he thought he was the better man for her.
A coroner’s van was parked on the street at the address Noah had been given, along with several Alexandria police cars, officers standing outside the narrow end-unit town house.
He approached Rich and Hans waiting on the small porch. Someone was dead, and if two assistant directors were here, that meant murder and the victim was a fed. “Who was killed?”
“Logan Dunbar was murdered last night.”
“Dunbar?” Noah was one of the few people who knew that Logan Dunbar had been working undercover, gathering evidence against Texas Congresswoman Adeline Reyes-Worthington who’d been suspected of a multitude of political corruption crimes. Noah had been working the DC angle with the other members of Dunbar’s small team. Dunbar’s assignment was cut short when the congresswoman was murdered. Her crimes were far more severe than bribery—drug running, gunrunning, money laundering, conspiracy to commit murder. Noah had been wading through the documentation that Dunbar had compiled, and they’d planned a huge debriefing later this week. She wasn’t the only corrupt official in the middle of the shitstorm. “I just spoke to Dunbar on Friday.”
Rick said, “He flew back last night. We don’t know if his killer followed him from the airport or was already here. I’ve called in a forensics team directly from the lab—I want our best people on this.”
“You think it’s connected to his assignment in San Antonio.”
“I don’t know,” Rick said. “But very few people knew he was coming back last night. My office. His direct supervisor. You. And his next-door neighbor who was watching his place while he was gone. But Dunbar could have told any number of people, both in San Antonio or here. It wasn’t like he needed to keep the information secret, now that his assignment was over.”
Noah didn’t know Dunbar well—most of their conversations had been over the phone or via encrypted email—but Noah knew he was a diligent,
Similar Books
