There were folding tables and laptops everywhere. The sheriff stood in the middle of it all, a pained expression on his face. A small brunette in a long skirt and a button-down shirt stood next to him, a clipboard in her hand. She chewed on her lower lip as she carefully wrote on the paper. Rafe sought his memory. Hannah? Hope. The sheriff’s secretary’s name was Hope something. She’d been quiet as a mouse during yesterday’s interview with Nate Wright.
“Special Agent Kincaid,” Nate called out. He pushed through the crowd, his hand out. “Am I happy to see you.” That was a surprise since the sheriff hadn’t been happy to see him yesterday. Rafe shook the man’s hand. “Sheriff, I’m sorry about this. I had no idea they were coming. Despite what everyone thinks.” Nate had an easy smile on his face. “I believe you. I know how service is out here. Though you folks don’t seem to have the same problems. Your boss brought satellite phones.”
“Well, we have the best equipment. We’re not going to rely on locals when we can bring our own things. You should sit back and watch how it’s done, Sheriff.” Brad patted the sheriff’s shoulder condescendingly and walked off.
“Don’t shoot him,” Rafe said with a sigh. “He’s arrogant.” Nate shrugged it off. “I’ve dealt with worse. Hell, I’ve been worse. We need to talk.”
Rafe nodded. For some reason, he trusted Nate Wright. He’d learned a little bit about the sheriff. He was once a DEA agent. He wasn’t some lightweight. “And we will, once I get a lay of the land.
And it’s best if we don’t do it here.” Rafe wasn’t sure what the FBI coming to Bliss meant yet, but it never hurt to have allies. He had a feeling the sheriff would be a powerful ally.
“Sure, I suspect we can sneak off for lunch and no one will notice.
Your boss has already ordered in. He’s taken over my entire office.
Seriously, I hope I didn’t fucking act like this when I was a fed.” Rafe could only nod. He knew how it went. When the FBI decided it was taking over, local law enforcement was pretty much fucked. Up until now, it seemed like the right thing to do, but Rafe kind of liked Nathan Wright. He seemed very competent, but Rafe knew that Joe would cut Wright out. He would do it because no FBI SAC was going to truly trust the locals. And Rafe was pretty sure, in this case, that was a mistake.
“Where’s the special agent in charge?” Rafe had already looked around the small office and hadn’t seen Laura. Joe would have her.
Rafe had worked with Joe for years. He knew how Joe operated. Joe would have been all over her the minute Laura entered the room.
“Do you have an interrogation room?”
“A small one,” Nate replied. He pointed down a narrow hallway.
“She’s in there. Briggs went in with her. I thought she was going to punch him at first, but he managed to smooth talk her into letting him in there with her. The SAC said you could go in when you got here.
Do you need anything? Hope is making a run to Stella’s for coffee and breakfast.”
Rafe’s appetite had fled long before. There was nothing now but an angry lump in his gut, but he hoped it was different for Laura.
“Laura likes her coffee dark with just a hint of sugar. Can you make sure Hope brings her a dark roast with one sugar packet? And a bagel. She likes bagels with cinnamon cream cheese.” A hint of a smile played on Nate Wright’s mouth. “I believe that’s what she asked Hope to bring her, though she didn’t ask for the bagel.
I think she’s eating Holly’s banana bread.” Rafe nodded and walked through the hall toward the small closed door. He stopped. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. He’d been here before, back in DC. It was all the same. Narrow hallways and neutral colors leading to a room where questions were answered in monotones. Rafe had been in a hundred of these rooms. The fact that Laura sat in one now made him edgy. She was on the wrong side of the table. She was on the vulnerable side.
He hated that.
There was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was one reason and one reason only for the BAU to come out here and talk to Laura Rosen. She’d given them all the information she had. Her case was five years old. There was a chance they had come out here to simply talk to her—but Rafe discounted that possibility. Brad’s snippet of information made that scenario implausible. They didn’t want to talk to Laura. They wanted to use her.
For bait.
Fuck. Why had he told anyone? He should have taken a leave of absence and come here with Cam with no further agenda than seeing her again, holding her again. He’d fucked up, and Cam and Laura had every right to be pissed with him.
And yet, a certain amount of rage choked him. She’d walked out.
She’d left without a goddamn word. Didn’t he have the right to be angry?
She wouldn’t be safe until he took down the Marquis de Sade.
She’d be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.
Rafe walked through the door.
“And you’re sure you haven’t had any communication with…” Joe stopped in the middle of his sentence, his face serious as he glanced up at Rafe.
The small room was filled to capacity. There was a long wooden table. A recording device was sitting in the middle, the red light flashing, indicating that it was on. Laura’s golden-blonde head was turned away from him, but there was no mistaking who sat beside her.
Cam’s broad shoulders filled up too much space. He’d obviously moved his chair so he could sit as close as possible. Cam’s hips brushed against hers.
Rafe felt a burning jealousy fill his soul.
“Special Agent Kincaid, it’s nice of you to join us,” Joe said with a welcoming smile on his face.
On the other side of the table, Edward Lock sat beside Joe.
Edward was an older man, but there was nothing soft about him. He kept in shape, both body and mind. He was studying Laura, his razor-sharp gray eyes assessing her the way he would an unsub. Rafe had the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
“Come and join us, Special Agent,” Joe offered. There was one chair left to the right of Joe. “I was just filling in Special Agent…I mean Laura on the case. It’s been a while. We’ve been catching up a bit while we waited on you.”
Laura finally turned, her blue eyes shifting up. Her face was utterly blank, but he didn’t miss the way her hand curled around Cam’s.
Fucker.
Rafe had a choice, and it was so clear to him now. He had to choose between the career he’d spent years building and the woman he’d obsessed over. She seemed to have already made her choice. It should be simple. She’d chosen Cam. Rafe could move to the FBI side of the table with no remorse, just a never-ending ache in his heart. She’d made her choice without even bothering to listen to his side of the story. It was the same thing she’d done when she’d walked out of the hospital. She hadn’t bothered to let him know if she was alive or dead. She hadn’t given him a single thought.
He could choose his career with the same ruthless selfishness that she’d used when she’d walked away.
Rafe walked around the table, pulled out the chair—and moved that fucker, because he was done with picking his job over the needs of his heart.
She’d walked out on him and ripped his heart in two. She was currently choosing his best friend over him without giving him a chance to explain, and he would sit at her side until he keeled over because he loved her. He knew that now. He knew it in a way he couldn’t have known before she’d left. The last five years had taught him something. He was ready for a marriage. He was ready to move on to a place where his job was something that took care of the people he loved. Hell, that was all this place had been for the last five years, anyway. It had become a place that paid for Cam to look for Laura.