influencing the outcome of another cop’s investigation felt wrong. Really wrong .
What if she made a mistake? Wasn’t she the one who’d spent twenty years hating her own father based on a mistake?
The line had to be drawn somewhere. Ty was a good cop; he’d figure his case out without her help. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror as she backed out of her parking space. “Just once, couldn’t you be less than a total disaster?”
In St. Louis, Jordan cruised along Market Street until she came to the FBI’s field office. Thank God it was Sunday. Maybe she wouldn’t have to play twenty questions with the geriatric bulldog who guarded Bahan’s office.
When she found his outer office dark and empty, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Bahan glanced up at her when she opened his door and walked in. She waited patiently while he talked to someone on the phone and clacked away at his computer. When it seemed he might be a few minutes longer, she snatched a mint from his candy jar. He always had the soft ones that melted in your mouth like minty icing. He whizzed around in his big leather chair and started to work on a different computer, so she reached into the jar again and then stuffed a big handful of mints into her pocket.
He swung back around, hung up the phone, and shook a finger at her. “You owe me seven hundred and forty-two dollars.”
“For what?”
“For all the damn mints you steal. Agnes rations me, you know. She won’t let me have more than one jar a week.”
Jordan grinned. “Where is super-troll today, anyway? I figured she slept under her desk so she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to jump out and snarl at me.”
“Please. She’s a harmless old woman.”
“Bullshit. She’s like Yoda—little, shriveled, and seemingly harmless until you piss her off. Then she rains down on you like a shitstorm. And let’s face it, she hates me. And I’ve never done a damn thing to her.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She just thinks you’re . . . uppity.”
“What the hell kind of word is uppity ? What the fuck does that mean?”
Bahan pulled at his collar, looking uncomfortable and guilty.
“What?” she asked. “Did you say something about me to her? Are you the reason she hates me?”
“She, ah . . . well, she wanted to fix me up with her granddaughter.”
Jordan sucked in a gasp and gagged on the mint. “Yuck. Is there a family resemblance?”
He laughed. “Kind of. Yeah.”
“So what does your love life have to do with me?”
He didn’t answer right away, so Jordan leveled a look at him like she had him in the hot seat.
“I might have given her the impression that I had feelings for you.”
“What? Why the hell would you do that?”
“I didn’t want her to hate me because I refused to date her granddaughter. So I told her I was hung up on someone else. She asked if it was you, and it seemed like a harmless fib.”
Jordan leaned forward with her hands propped on his desk. “I cannot believe you did that. Now she’s going to think we’re in here fooling around every time I come by.”
“No, she won’t. I sort of implied that you shot me down and I’m heartbroken. Now she just feels sorry for me and brings me chocolate cake and homemade stew.”
Disgusted, Jordan shook her head. “No wonder she thinks I’m a bitch. Why don’t you get a new secretary?”
“Are you kidding? Agnes is golden. In under a minute, she can put her hands on any document I’ve worked on in the last ten years. Nobody fucks with me because they’re scared to have to deal with her. And she brings me food.”
Jordan narrowed her eyes and opened his candy jar. She stuffed another big handful of mints in her other pocket. “Say nothing . Men are assholes. All of you.”
He chuckled. “That sounds ominous. Is there trouble in ranch-topia?”
“No,” she said. But even she could hear the defensiveness in her tone. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Ty’s murder
What if she made a mistake? Wasn’t she the one who’d spent twenty years hating her own father based on a mistake?
The line had to be drawn somewhere. Ty was a good cop; he’d figure his case out without her help. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror as she backed out of her parking space. “Just once, couldn’t you be less than a total disaster?”
In St. Louis, Jordan cruised along Market Street until she came to the FBI’s field office. Thank God it was Sunday. Maybe she wouldn’t have to play twenty questions with the geriatric bulldog who guarded Bahan’s office.
When she found his outer office dark and empty, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Bahan glanced up at her when she opened his door and walked in. She waited patiently while he talked to someone on the phone and clacked away at his computer. When it seemed he might be a few minutes longer, she snatched a mint from his candy jar. He always had the soft ones that melted in your mouth like minty icing. He whizzed around in his big leather chair and started to work on a different computer, so she reached into the jar again and then stuffed a big handful of mints into her pocket.
He swung back around, hung up the phone, and shook a finger at her. “You owe me seven hundred and forty-two dollars.”
“For what?”
“For all the damn mints you steal. Agnes rations me, you know. She won’t let me have more than one jar a week.”
Jordan grinned. “Where is super-troll today, anyway? I figured she slept under her desk so she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to jump out and snarl at me.”
“Please. She’s a harmless old woman.”
“Bullshit. She’s like Yoda—little, shriveled, and seemingly harmless until you piss her off. Then she rains down on you like a shitstorm. And let’s face it, she hates me. And I’ve never done a damn thing to her.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She just thinks you’re . . . uppity.”
“What the hell kind of word is uppity ? What the fuck does that mean?”
Bahan pulled at his collar, looking uncomfortable and guilty.
“What?” she asked. “Did you say something about me to her? Are you the reason she hates me?”
“She, ah . . . well, she wanted to fix me up with her granddaughter.”
Jordan sucked in a gasp and gagged on the mint. “Yuck. Is there a family resemblance?”
He laughed. “Kind of. Yeah.”
“So what does your love life have to do with me?”
He didn’t answer right away, so Jordan leveled a look at him like she had him in the hot seat.
“I might have given her the impression that I had feelings for you.”
“What? Why the hell would you do that?”
“I didn’t want her to hate me because I refused to date her granddaughter. So I told her I was hung up on someone else. She asked if it was you, and it seemed like a harmless fib.”
Jordan leaned forward with her hands propped on his desk. “I cannot believe you did that. Now she’s going to think we’re in here fooling around every time I come by.”
“No, she won’t. I sort of implied that you shot me down and I’m heartbroken. Now she just feels sorry for me and brings me chocolate cake and homemade stew.”
Disgusted, Jordan shook her head. “No wonder she thinks I’m a bitch. Why don’t you get a new secretary?”
“Are you kidding? Agnes is golden. In under a minute, she can put her hands on any document I’ve worked on in the last ten years. Nobody fucks with me because they’re scared to have to deal with her. And she brings me food.”
Jordan narrowed her eyes and opened his candy jar. She stuffed another big handful of mints in her other pocket. “Say nothing . Men are assholes. All of you.”
He chuckled. “That sounds ominous. Is there trouble in ranch-topia?”
“No,” she said. But even she could hear the defensiveness in her tone. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Ty’s murder
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