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“The FBI,” I repeat. “I thought this guy she was engaged to was potentially CIA?”
“They’re sharing limited facts right now, but I’ve pressed to ensure Ashley’s safety and I feel they are responsive to my pressure more than anything.”
“I’m going to need to sit in,” I say. “I don’t want her pulled down in some criminal investigation like she was in Paris.”
“Understandable,” he says. “The meeting is at six. Do you want to talk to Ashley or me?”
“I will,” I say grimly, not looking forward to this talk. “We’ll be there.” I disconnect and buzz Ashley. “I need you.”
“Of course you need me,” she replies, trying to be her flippant self, but it’s a choked attempt that tells me how stressed she really is.
She enters my office and I motion to the door. She shuts it and crosses to stand in front of me, her black dress as dark as I suspect her mood to be. “What’s wrong?” she asks, sitting primly on the edge of her chair.
“Royce found out that your ex may be CIA.”
“CIA?” she breathes out. “Really?”
“Really.”
She makes a frustrated sound. “I want this to somehow make him less of an asshole, but he didn’t tell me. I was still some token in a game. Clearly, I still am.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that other than to remind you that we don’t have facts. The FBI wants to interview you tonight. I’ll sit in and so will Royce Walker. It will be at his office.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
I repeat what Royce said. “He’s working to protect you. Let’s assume that’s what this is.”
“But I need you,” she says flatly.
“Of course you need me,” I say, giving her a wink.
She swallows hard and gets up. “I need to go work and get my mind off of this.” She walks to the door and I call after her.
“You aren’t alone,” I promise, and she hesitates with her hand on the knob but doesn’t turn. A few beats pass and she says, “Thank you,” and leaves.
In the wake of her departure, I think of how alone Lori was when I met her despite having her mother. How alone I was before I met Lori. And Ashley is exactly that: Alone. No family. No one but us. It makes a man really appreciate his wife. It makes a man want to get up, find his wife, grab her and take her on a desk somewhere. I’m about to stand up with the intent of finding my wife and doing exactly that when she peeks her head in my office.
When she sees that I’m not on the phone, she enters my office and shuts the door. “There’s a case I want to talk about.”
“Bring it to me,” I order softly, scooting my chair back. “Here.”
Chapter seventy-four
Cole
The minute my door is shut and Lori has joined me on this side of the desk, I back her against the desk, my hands on her hips. “What are you doing?” She laughs as my fingers slide down her hips toward her hemline.
“Finding out what color of panties you have on,” I say, walking her skirt up her thighs.
She grabs my hands. “No,” she says firmly. “You wait until tonight.”
“Just let me look.”
“No,” she chides, holding up the file in her hand. “Murder case. Really interesting. Please read it, but I’m warning you. It’s a federal judge’s wife. It’s going to get lots of attention, but we have to take it. I want to take it.”
“If I read the file—”
“You’ll make me very happy,” she supplies.
