you there?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” He headed for the exit, sidestepping the line of people stacked up at the metal detector.
“I was hoping you could do me a favor,” Maddie said.
Scott stepped into the sunlight and scanned the meters for his pickup.
“Do you think you have time?”
“Not really. What’s the favor?” he asked, even though it didn’t matter. He’d do it anyway, because he liked her. Of all the CSIs he knew, Maddie was the least prone to dumb-ass mistakes, such as using a pen to pick up a firearm by the barrel, thereby preserving fingerprints on the weapon but potentially fucking up other evidence.
“I’ve got a shell casing from a crime scene,” she said, “and I told a friend of mine I’d see if I could get it analyzed. It’s kind of a rush job.”
“Who’s the friend?” Scott spotted his truck and saw the ticket tucked under the wiper blade.
“An FBI agent I know. His name’s Brian Beckman.”
“Never heard of him.”
“I bet he never heard of you, either.”
Scott dug the keys from his pocket. Maddie had an attitude, and he’d always liked that about her. “This the guy from the lab last night?”
“How’d you know that?”
“Saw you talking to someone on the steps.”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s part of a task force investigating a young woman’s kidnapping.”
Scott should have figured it was something likethat. Maddie had a soft spot for anything that involved women or kids.
“So, will you do it?”
“Drop it by the lab, and I’ll take a look.”
“I already did. Thank you so much. I owe you one. So does my friend.”
He stuffed the ticket into his pocket. “Yeah, well, you are welcome. Tell the fed next time, he can use his own lab.”
Maddie finished her response to the last urgent e-mail in her in-box and pressed send. She glanced at her watch. Five o’clock, and these photos had been promised yesterday. The investigator who’d been pinging her all afternoon obviously wasn’t happy she was running behind, but that was too bad. He could take a number.
“Who’s the hot cop?”
She glanced up as Brooke sauntered into the room and dumped her coat onto a chair. “Excuse me?”
“In the lobby. Some delectable-looking lawman is out there asking for you.” She smiled. “Is he business or pleasure?”
Maddie’s phone rang, and she picked up. “Photography.”
“There’s a Special Agent Brian Beckman here to see you,” the receptionist said.
“I’ll be right there.” Maddie jumped up from her chair and glanced at her watch again. She knew why Brian was here, and he was going to be disappointed.
“Well?” Brooke was still smiling.
“Business,” Maddie said, and headed out the door.
She found him in the lobby and felt an unwelcome surge of attraction. He was leaning casually against the counter and making conversation with the receptionist, who—until today—had been known for hitting the door every evening at five sharp. Brian was once again in dark slacks and a button-down with the cuffs rolled back. At the sound of her footsteps, he glanced over, and the warm look in his eyes made her nerves flutter.
“I got your e-mail,” he said by way of greeting.
“Did you read all of it? Mia can’t meet with us until tomorrow. She’s got a class this evening.”
“This shouldn’t take long.”
Maddie stopped beside the counter and gazed up at him. He had the determined expression of someone accustomed to seeing an obstacle and barreling right through it.
She glanced at the receptionist, who was watching attentively. “Has Dr. Voss left for the day?”
“I don’t believe so.”
She looked at Brian. “Follow me.”
They reached the elevator bank right as the doors dinged open and the Delphi Center’s top DNA specialist stepped out.
“Uh-oh,” Maddie said. “You’re leaving.”
“I’ve got a class at six.” She flicked a glance at Brian, clearly sensing the ambush. “And I’m running late.”
“Mia,
Amanda Heath
Drew Daniel
Kristin Miller
Robert Mercer-Nairne
T C Southwell
Robert & Lustbader Ludlum
Rayven T. Hill
Sam Crescent
linda k hopkins
Michael K. Reynolds