THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series)

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shorts and an orange T-shirt advertising Dirty Dick’s Crab Shack. A silver hoop glinted in Toby’s left ear. He had on flip-flops.
    Toby gestured to the office where they’d dumped their technical equipment. “I think I’ll scan that pamphlet so we can send it to the bossman,” he offered. “You want to write him an email?”  
    Jackson could hear his daughter chatting excitedly with her grandmother. “Go ahead. Family first,” he reminded himself .
    “Right,” Toby agreed, backing toward the office door. “So, whatever happened to your daughter’s mother?” he inquired, off-hand.
    Jackson stopped and slowly turned back. “Car accident,” he said shortly .
    Toby sent him a searching look. “Sorry to hear that.” 
    “Thanks.” The car accident was only half the story, but Jackson didn’t know Toby well enough to tell him the rest.
     
    “Let’s look up the journalist,” Jackson suggested at 9:45 P.M.
    Naomi and Silvia had withdrawn upstairs to retire for the night. He and Toby were cozied into their little office waiting for the scheduled teleconference with Ike. Jackson, who couldn’t get Lena Alexandra, aka Maggie , out of his head, figured they could use the ten minutes before their conference started to plan their “party” at her place tonight .
    Toby sat forward. “Sure, let me show you what I’ve found.”
    Jackson ’s blood flowed faster as his colleague typed her name into their search engine.
    Crime and Liberty ’s website was the first hit to come up, but with the server hacked, they could only view a cached page, several years old. The bombshell’s photo was there, nonetheless, her title listed even then as Freelance Editor, and she’d been every bit as sexy in her mid-twenties as she was now. The figure-hugging crimson sweater made Jackson ’s mouth water.
    Toby gave a low whistle. “I get hard just looking at her.”      
    Jackson stabbed a finger at a link. “Click that,” he ordered tersely.
    The subsequent page was filled with a list of dozens of articles written by Lena Alexandra. Looking at her long list of accomplishments, he felt suddenly queasy .
    “She’s been busy,” Toby noted in a more subdued tone .
    Lena . Maggie. Maggie. Lena . Jackson had a sudden thought. “I bet her real name’s Magdalena ,” he wagered, enjoying the way it rolled off his lips and tongue. Margaret, my ass.
    “Magdalena Alexandra,” Toby said with flare. “That’s about as Greek as they get.” 
    From what the old website suggested, Lena Alexandra had been contributing articles to Crime and Liberty since her first year out of college. There were titles relating to theft, embezzlement, kidnapping, even murder. Jackson scratched his neck, feeling harried. Not only was she beautiful and crafty, but her accomplishments bespoke of a highly intelligent woman. A pro. She could probably smell an imposter a mile away, which meant he would be in some deep shit if they didn’t succeed in getting rid of her.
    “You really think she’ll leave if we cramp her style?” Jackson was starting to have his doubts .
    Toby shrugged. “Only one way to find out. If that doesn’t work, I volunteer to hold her hostage in my hotel room until the investigation’s over,” he said with a straight face and a twinkle in his eyes.
    Like hell , Jackson thought, hiding a scowl. “Maybe we could get her arrested.”
    “Her?” Toby scoffed. “She probably knows fifteen lawyers off the top of her head.”  
    Given her profession, she probably did. Jackson reminded himself that she would be Ike’s problem if she refused to leave .
    As if summoned by thought, their conferencing program chimed. Ike’s rugged features filled the screen, his thick head of silver hair glinting under the halogen lighting at the National Center for Counterterrorism. “Evening,” he bit out, as terse as ever.
    Subdued by their lead’s grim presence, Jackson and Toby returned the greeting. To Jackson ’s practiced

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