The Agent's Surrender

She lifted her chin with a cold grin. “Holden always has all the answers, doesn’t he?”

“Most times. Particularly when the question isn’t all that hard to figure out. Face it, Fallon. I’ve had you figured out from the day we met, and if you weren’t so afraid of Daddy’s disapproval, we could’ve been a helluva team.”

“You’re the one suffering from an inflated ego,” she said, eyes flashing. “And I would appreciate it if you would stick to the case. Leave the personal crap out of this—that is, if you can manage.”

“Cold as ice, as usual.” His gaze darkened as he tipped his beer back again. “Tell me, Fallon, were you born this cold or did you work at it?”

She smiled. “I guess that’s none of your business as it doesn’t relate to the case. If you can’t handle being a professional, I’ll just let the chief know your interest in the case has died and we’ll all happily close the book on this wild-goose chase.”

He straightened, shaking his head. “You’re a piece of work.”

“As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have a life and need to get back to it. I just came by to let you know you got your wish.”

“Well, thank you for your consideration,” he said with open sarcasm; he knew the real reason she’d dropped by was to get the slip of evidence he held to his chest. Good luck with that—he’d made it up. “Have a good evening, Agent Fallon.”

She glared, standing rigid, looking as if she’d just sucked a lemon, but she forced a smile. “See you tomorrow. Be prepared to work. I want to get this over with. Some of us have real work to do and don’t have time to chase fairy tales.”

He chuckled. “Nice try, but I don’t bait that easily. Good night, Fallon.” He shut the door before she could retort. Work with Fallon? Nope. That woman was the original ice queen. And to think at one time he’d thought he was falling in love with her. What a joke. Besides, he worked alone. Fallon could do whatever she pleased as long as she stayed out of his way.

* * *

That’d gone about as well as she’d expected. But a girl could hope, right? Of course, she hadn’t expected him to welcome her into his home with open arms and offer her a beer, but she hadn’t quite expected him to be so rude. Well, yes she had. They weren’t buddies, and she preferred it that way.

She walked with strong, purposeful strides to her car, suppressing a shiver at the bitter cold of a Washington, D.C., winter, and pushed the reality of working with Holden as far from her mind as possible. She was a strong investigator. Holden couldn’t have anything in his hot little hand that would change the outcome of her investigation. And that was exactly what she’d tell her father in about fifteen minutes, when she was expected for dinner with her brothers.

There was a chance her father, retired Major General Gregory Fallon, hadn’t heard of this recent development, but then her father still had scarily deep connections, and a reverberation of this sort was bound to ripple some water under the boats. However, if he didn’t mention it, she’d keep the information to herself.

She walked into her father’s house and followed the sound of voices to the living room, where her father and two brothers, Ian and Walker, sat enjoying a beer and talking shop. For a brief moment, a familiar envy arced across her heart for their easily defined relationships. Simply put, The Major was openly proud of his marine sons for their varied accomplishments, but when it came to his marine daughter, he always found cause to criticize. What would it be like to sit and enjoy a beer with her dad like her brothers did? The Major frowned upon women drinking—he said they lacked the constitution to handle their liquor. Yeah, her dad was unapologetically sexist and there was nothing she could do about it, least of all change him. Time to run the gauntlet. “Hey, Dad,” she said, announcing herself as she entered the room.

“There she is, only a little bit late this time,” The Major said with a wink at Ian, who laughed at her expense.

“Work kept me late,” she said, hating the defensiveness of her tone. “Reed threw me a big case,” she added, though she immediately wished she hadn’t.

“Oh?” her older brother, Walker, said, intrigued. “Anything as good as that Archangelo case?”

Her dad grunted. “Those Archangelo boys, waste of good military training... Twisted branches never grow into strong oaks,” he said, repeating the same bit of advice he’d shoved down her throat when he’d found out about her and Holden.

“Yes, Dad, I’m well aware of your feelings about Holden,” she said, mildly irritated that she found herself defending the man. “But Holden is nothing like his brother—he’s a good investigator with a solid record.”

The Major shook his head. “The man has no respect for authority, which points to a weak character. Add in the fact that Miko was Holden’s twin...mark my words, he’ll show his true colors sooner or later.”

Why was she wasting time defending Holden when she knew there was no winning this argument with her father? Total waste of energy. She’d long ago learned to pick her battles, and this situation was no different.

“So what’s the big case?” Walker asked.

“I don’t have details yet,” she hedged. “I will know more in a few days.” Her father narrowed a speculative gaze at her, as if he were reading her mind and discovering her secrets, and she suffered an uncomfortable moment. “When I can divulge details I will,” she clarified. Anytime she tried to act as their equal, they managed to shoot her down with the equivalent of an indulgent pat on the head. Well, that was how her brothers handled it. Her father? He just got that look on his face that said, “Girl, you’ll never be as good as your brothers because you’re a woman and incapable of critical thinking” and she ended up doing and saying something that invariably started an argument. So tonight, she was determined to steer clear of any potential land mines. Yet...she’d just lobbed a big one in her own path. Self-destructive much? “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

The Major grunted and returned to his sons. “Walker, tell us about the latest detail in Afghanistan.”

“Dad, you know I’m not supposed to talk about that—it’s classified,” he said, winking at their father. The Major laughed as if they were sharing a big private joke, and Jane hated she couldn’t just enjoy an evening with her family like normal folks. Her thoughts wandered to Holden, and she pushed them back. She didn’t want to think of him. Not now. She was already surrounded by big, tall, muscular numbskulls with too much testosterone. She certainly didn’t need to muddy her brain with one more.

“Dad, how was the summit?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation. “Anything worth reporting?”

“Bunch of politicians jockeying to be top dog,” he said. “Nothing new. Food was adequate for the situation, but I was more than happy to be home where a man can get a decent steak.”

Adequate. Top chefs catered the military summit each year. It was mildly gratifying to know her father was difficult to please on all fronts. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be eating so much steak at your age,” she countered. “Your cholesterol is probably through the roof.”

“My cholesterol is fine,” her dad said. Then his brow arched in a knowing fashion, and Jane’s stomach flopped. He knew and he’d simply been waiting for a convenient segue. Damn the man’s connections. He probably had a line to God so he knew when to pack an umbrella. “Let’s get back on topic. Jane, an interesting conversation floated my way concerning the investigation you closed on that Archangelo man.”

“Yes? Such as?” she asked, feigning polite interest when she really wanted to forgo eating and split this dinner invitation. She grabbed a handful of pretzels and tossed one back. “Anything good?”

“Talk is that his brother is asking questions.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. It was his brother after all,” she answered, trying not to choke on the pretzel. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is the whole I.D. debacle was an embarrassment to this country and everyone is ready to put it to bed. You did a decent job closing that investigation to everyone’s satisfaction. Perhaps you could persuade your peer to let sleeping dogs lie,” The Major suggested, but his tone told her it was anything but. She hated when her dad pulled rank. “I.D. was a toxic extension of the government that ended up with gangrene. Many good people went down on that ship. No one wants to dredge it up again.”

“I told him that,” she said, biting her tongue too late. She looked to her brothers for help, but they were watching her as keenly as their father was. Damn boys. They stuck together, no matter what. Well, cat’s out of the bag. No sense dancing around. She tossed back the last pretzel and said, “He’s never going to stop asking questions. He doesn’t believe Miko was guilty.”

“The guy was caught red-handed,” Ian said with a snort. “He couldn’t have been more guilty than if he’d filmed himself doing it and mailed the evidence to the authorities.”

“It’s an open-and-shut case,” Walker agreed. “I wish all my cases were that easy.”

She bristled. “It wasn’t that easy. The I.D. corruption went deep. There’s always the potential we didn’t root out all of the rot. I assure you, it wasn’t an easy investigation by any means.”

“Of course, Janey,” Walker soothed in a patronizing way that made her want to sucker punch him in the kidneys. “It was a nice feather in your cap, for sure.”

“Thanks, Walker,” she gritted, her temperature rising. “Listen, I don’t know if Holden has anything of value, but he says he has some new evidence.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, hating that she’d blabbed at all. But no sense in hanging on to a half story. “Reed has temporarily reopened the case with Holden and me investigating.”

Her dad scowled. “That’s some special kind of bullshit. What possible evidence could this Holden character have that would warrant reopening the case?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” she answered truthfully. If only Holden hadn’t been such a jerk and shared what he knew, she could’ve had solid answers, but now it seemed as if she were on the outside looking in on her own case. “I’m sure it’s nothing truly substantial, but Reed thinks this will give Holden closure.”

“Whole lot of hand-holding if you ask me.” Her dad groused and her brothers nodded. “If I was in charge, none of that would be going on.”

“Yes, Dad,” she said dutifully, though she wanted to roll her eyes. Her dad had little faith that anyone could do their jobs as well as he could. Well, you didn’t rise up the marine ranks by sitting back and letting the tide carry you. Her dad had the chops to back up his claims, but he wasn’t the least bit gracious about it, which put him on the outs with almost everyone beneath him. “Anyway, I’m starved. When’s dinner? I have an early day tomorrow and I still need to go over the case files.”

“It should be ready now.” Her dad motioned for everyone to follow him to the dining room. He nodded with brisk approval at Claudine, the live-in maid and cook, and then seated himself at the head of the table like a king surveying his subjects, which Jane thought was an apt analogy.

“Smells great, Claudine,” she murmured, ready to dig in and get the hell out.

“How are you, Miss Jane?” Claudine asked, placing the gravy boat nearest to her father because he practically drank the stuff with a straw. Her father was waging a war against time, determined to prove he was damn near invincible, no matter that he was nearing seventy.

“Good, and yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” The older woman smiled. “When are you going to meet a nice young man?”

“No time for that,” she said briskly, shaking her head as she scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes. Why didn’t anyone ever ask why Walker or Ian hadn’t settled down? Because men were allowed to be footloose and fancy-free, she answered herself in a sour tone. “I’m married to my job,” she said, thinking briefly of the time she and Holden had spent together. If things had been different...maybe...but they weren’t, so what was the point in wallowing in the past?

Her father nodded and said, “There’s more to life than getting married, Claudine. Don’t be putting foolish thoughts into the girl’s head. She’s finally doing all right. Time to focus on the priorities.”

Somehow having her father echo the same sentiment sent a stone tumbling into the pit of her stomach when it should’ve made her grin from ear to ear. She was constantly yearning for a smidgeon of her father’s approval, yet sometimes the smidge just tasted hollow.

Hell, she must be tired. This whole situation with Holden and the case had put her off-kilter. Tomorrow she’d find out what the hell kind of evidence Holden thought he had and then she’d start putting this baby to bed. For good.

Chapter 3

Per usual, Holden awoke at 4:30 a.m., and after pounding back an organic whey protein shake, dressed, grabbed his workout bag and headed for the office.

Being in the top level of the CIA had its perks, one of them being the executive exercise facility, which Holden took full advantage of. After a career in the military, he didn’t relish the idea of going soft at a desk job, so he worked out just as hard as he ever did. And also, per usual, Jane was there, too.

It was always a small punch to the gut whenever he saw Jane dressed like a civilian in her workout clothes. It reminded him too vividly how that lithe, muscular body had fit so well against his, and it was in those raw, primal moments that his guard slipped, if only for a heartbeat. And then he remembered how she’d thrown his feelings in his face and walked out on him and the wall went back up.

“Would it kill you to exercise at a different time?” he asked as she joined him, stuffing her bag in the locker and grabbing a towel. “Or is this some twisted scheme to spend more time with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He didn’t know why he’d assumed she’d cut out on her morning workout after getting the news that the case had been reopened, but obviously it hadn’t stopped her. Seeing her there put him instantly on edge.

She headed directly to the treadmill and punched in her usual workout, a punishing ten-mile run in fifty-five minutes. Holden, deciding to bypass his lifting routine, stepped onto the treadmill beside her. He punched in ten miles and kicked up the pace.

After they’d started running, Holden asked, “So why’d Reed change his mind? You have something to do with that?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

She cut him a short look. “I don’t like my work to look sloppy. I realized that if you think you have hard evidence, chances were you did, and I didn’t want to run the risk that someone else might question my skills as an investigator. I figured chasing down the lead was a minimally small risk when I feel confident the end result will remain the same.”

“Why are you so willing to believe the worst of my brother?”

“I didn’t know your brother, so I have no opinion of him. I followed the evidence. Your brother’s death was the catalyst to the entire I.D. network becoming a pile of rubble. That much is easy enough to document. Your brother was implicated in the killings of several high-ranking officials internationally, as well as domestically, and his suicide—”

“Alleged suicide,” he interrupted with a growl, and she shrugged, keeping an easy but brisk pace without breaking a sweat. She was in remarkable shape. One would have to be blind not to notice—and Holden was not blind. Not to mention he had first-hand knowledge of every curve and valley carved into that hot body. “And Nathan Isaacs, his good friend and fellow sniper for I.D., had also been accused of committing unsanctioned hits, and he wasn’t stripped of his medals.”

“Nathan didn’t know he was carrying out someone else’s agenda. Miko did. That much was said in his suicide note.”

“We don’t even know the note was written by Miko because it was printed out and not handwritten. For all we know, my brother was set up by someone higher up the chain.”

“How high are we talking?” she asked, a faint note of mockery in her tone. “C’mon, Holden, Occam’s razor. Sometimes the most obvious explanation is the right one.”

“And sometimes what may seem like the obvious answer is in actuality what someone wants you to believe.”

“Well, you got your wish. We’re going to chase down your lead and see where it takes us. Just don’t blame me when we end up in the same place we started.”

He knew it was possible Jane was right, but his gut said otherwise. He couldn’t explain the twin bond to someone who’d never experienced it. But he could chase down a lead like a bloodhound, and that was what he was going to do. He supposed he owed Reed a note of gratitude for opening the door so he could walk through instead of having to scale windows in the dead of night. Sneaking around wasn’t his favorite game.

“So what’s your story, Fallon?” he asked, curious as to what went on behind those jade eyes.

She shot him an irritated look. “Are you going to gab all morning or let me run in peace? You’ll have plenty opportunity to flap your jaws later.”

“I forgot that your workout takes all your concentration,” he said, knowing the subtle jab would ruffle her feathers. From what he knew of Jane, she didn’t take shortcuts and didn’t do girl push-ups. In fact, she worked harder than most men. She was a marine through and through. As expected, she cast him a dark look and punched in a higher pace as if to prove a point. He chuckled and did the same. They were running side by side, like a cheetah and a gazelle, except they were evenly matched in skill and strength. Sweat began to drip down his temple and soak his T-shirt. A quick look at Jane revealed high points of color pinching her cheeks as she kept up the pace. At this rate, their hearts would explode, and she was so damn stubborn she’d never quit before him. He didn’t want to show weakness, but running had never been his strong suit. Her legs pumped, strong and fierce, as she kept her gaze trained forward, and he had to wonder where she went in her head to withstand such a grueling workout. Running was a mental activity as much as it was physical and Jane was in the zone. He envied her detachment, her ability to compartmentalize the pain of her burning legs and lungs as she pushed herself beyond most people’s capability. Maybe that was how she had been able to just cut him loose and walk away without looking back. Don’t start that crap again, a sharp voice in his head warned when he went too deep into the whys of their breakup. Ancient history—keep it there.

Just when he thought he might collapse, the ten-mile marker dinged and the slowdown began, not a moment too soon. Another five seconds and he might’ve embarrassed himself. His legs were rubber, but he wasn’t about to let Jane see that, particularly when she looked ready to go another five miles. The only indication she’d labored was the ruddy color in her cheeks and the quick rise and fall of her chest as she wiped away the sweat. She ended the run and popped off the treadmill, calling over her shoulder before she headed for the showers, “Be ready to share this game-changing lead, Archangelo. Time is wasting.”

* * *

Jane stood for a full two minutes under the hot spray, groaning silently at the dull ache in her quads and calves from the grueling run. Why’d she have to push it so hard? What did she need to prove to Holden? It wasn’t just Holden—it was to everyone. There was no grace for her. Being the only girl in a military family dominated by men, she’d had no choice but to meet or exceed all expectations. Hell, she’d been doing boy-style push-ups since she was three. She loved her brothers to death, but they were jarhead carbon copies of their dad, and because she was the exact opposite of her father, it must mean she was her mother’s mini me. She stifled another groan. Why couldn’t she have been born a male, too? Life would’ve been so much simpler. No having to constantly prove her worth or justify her existence. No having to defend the fact that she’d been born bearing a striking resemblance to their mother.

The mother who’d left them all behind.

Sometimes she bore her mother’s abandonment as a scarlet letter simply because she had the misfortune to share the same gender.

Jane indulged in a moment of quiet as the water soothed her throbbing muscles and calmed her ragged spirit. Why was she going on this stupid waste of time with Holden? Why didn’t she just stand her ground and discard Holden’s theory? There was no basis of fact, only Holden’s insistence that something was amiss, and that wasn’t enough to reopen a case like Miko’s. Why? The question pelted her as surely as the water jets, but there was no relief answer in sight. Jane groaned, hating the self-doubt niggling at her brain, cutting chunks out of her confidence. Maybe she should’ve gone to Holden when she had first started the investigation. Perhaps if she’d done that, they wouldn’t be questioning anything now, putting a stain on her reputation. But then, as now, she didn’t trust herself around Holden for too long; he did something to her insides. Too much time around Holden and she started to question too many things, and she couldn’t have that. He put a wrinkle in her life that stubbornly refused to iron out, no matter how hard she pressed. And that just wouldn’t work in the overall scheme of things. Enough of this morose, angst crap. She pushed away from the spray and grabbed the soap. It’s not as if things are going to change.

She’d have to put some ointment on her calves tonight, she realized, twisting her foot in a circular motion and grimacing at the immediate protests in her muscles. That was what she got for trying to show off.

But Holden could handle the challenge, she realized with grudging respect. Most people would’ve quit the minute she upped the pace. A secret part of her was glad he hadn’t. She couldn’t respect a man who couldn’t keep up with her. Did she want Holden’s respect? Why should that play into the equation? Jane had to admit, something about Holden made her want to look twice in his direction. She’d seen plenty of hard bodies during her military career—so much so it was more surprising to see a soft physique—but Holden’s body was carved from granite, all hard planes and razor sinews of strength that made her itch to touch them. Just admitting that to herself sent shameful heat scuttling to her cheeks, and she actually heard her father’s voice in her head ranting about “female hormones” and the pursuant “unstable” nature of all women.

Get a grip, Fallon. Stay focused on the big picture. Protect your reputation in the department and find a way to show Holden he’s wrong about his brother.

She shut off the water and wrapped her towel around her with a grim smile. Sounded like a solid plan. Now get to it.

Chapter 4

Fifteen minutes later both Holden and Jane were alone in the conference room ready to work. Despite the fact she’d just run a grueling distance and had just hopped out of the shower, Jane looked impeccable, dressed in a tailored suit and her short, dark hair blown dry and styled. Holden, however, could still feel water dripping down his back from the quick towel off and subsequent dash to the office. Suddenly, he felt disheveled. He shifted in discomfort at the pull of his shirt beneath his suit jacket and took a seat opposite Jane.

She got right to it. “Okay, Holden, here’s your chance. What’s this new evidence you’re talking about?”

Time to come clean. “I lied.” He watched as a storm immediately sprang to life in her eyes. He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, hoping to ward off the lightning before she incinerated him where he stood. “I knew that if I said I just had a gut feeling, there’s no way anyone would’ve taken me seriously.”

“You lied?” Her voice registered cold disbelief as she stiffened. Jane skewered him with her gaze, saying in a low whisper, “I knew it.”