Page 117 of Long Past Deadly

“You all right?” Nick Ryker’s concern was killing her. She had a list of things to be grateful to him for, but the worry had to stop.

Ten days and he’d watched her like a hawk. She was ready to get back into the field because this sitting in the office was on her last nerve. She admitted she’d been shaky after she’d shot Mercer. Confronting the complex mix of emotions over killing a human being was a day-to-day process. It came with using a gun. Her only stability – Quaid and his experiences.

The drive to San Diego every night to spend time with him, though, was not working so well. A decision time was coming. She’d told him six months together before they could talk about permanent, but she was changing her mind. She was in a hard dilemma between the FBI and QM. She loved both. And Whit’s complete recovery was leaving another decision point.

“I’m fine. Like I’ve told you five times a day since the shooting. Is there some reason you think I’m not?”

“Doing the boss thing.” He leaned back in his chair, white shirt stretched across his broad chest.

He’d fit at QM. She dismissed the idea. The man was die-hard FBI.

She stepped into the office and sat in the simple framed red visitor chair. The man didn’t have anything personal on his desk either, but behind it on the wall -- awards, diplomas, and accolades. “Well, you can stop. I have a proposal.”

“What kind?”

“How would you feel about making me a permanent liaison to QM? They have an unspecified number of missing persons cases, and they have a network for information that’s more nuanced than ours.”

He frowned. “This about Daniels?”

She couldn’t fudge the answer. “Yes. And no.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s no secret we’re involved.” Quaid hung around waiting for seven hours on the day of her shooting interviews. Wouldn’t budge until she could leave with him. He’d wrapped her in his jacket, kept his hands on her, and kissed her in the elevator. That wasn’t partner behavior, and everybody in the building knew it.

“I’m still working on Serena Tenney. It might be a good test case without the assassination distraction and the political pressure. Plus, I need to get Whit sorted out. But I like this job and don’t want to leave. Help me out here.”

“I knew this Tenney thing would be a headache. There’s nothing there.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

His eyes hardened. “You holding out?”

“Not as such, but we’re tracking some rumors, trying to confirm Serena’s movements. Honestly, I’m searching for a dump site to put this to rest.”

He gave her an irritated frown. “Tread carefully. It’s been investigated by a full task force of investigators and finally turned over to cold case by the local police, then we reviewed it here. Not me personally, but I read the conclusions. Nothing there to find. Professional opinion, she’ll never be found.”

“I don’t disagree. But a collaboration could benefit both QM and the FBI. Also, I have a doctor appointment for a hearing assessment and need to leave.”

“Go. And I’ll think about the collaboration thing. We don’t usually do that. Be careful. Lots of protected information here.”

“They have more to worry about than we do. Theirs is client confidentiality and private personal information, too, much of it governed by state laws. Ours is protected information governed by federal law. I’m always careful.”

“Thank you for schooling me on the differences in privacy laws. I had no idea.” His dry statement left her smiling.

“Watch your conduct, though.” His eyes showed confidence in her, but his voice was a caution she’d heed.

“If it ever becomes an issue with anyone about me and my association with QM, I’ll put my resignation on your desk. You only have to ask.”

“You won’t resign, and I won’t ask. Let’s make sure those conflict scenarios don’t happen. Personally, and I’ll deny I said this, QM does good work, and I have a lot of respect for the Q and the M of that business.”

“Me, too. And the dozens behind them.”

“Get out of here. Text me the outcome of your doctor visit.”

She paused when his phone rang.

He stared at the screen, made a face, and answered. “Walker. What’s up?”