Page 8 of What Started In Deception

He grabbed her arm. “Lydia.”

She yanked out of his grip, whirling to face him again. “Don’t touch me. And that’s Ms. Monroe to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Wasting little time, she headed for the parking lot.

He sidled up next to her, matching her hurried pace on the blacktop. “Let me assure you that this has nothing to do with campaign bullshit.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He got in her way, moving backward as they continued to walk. “Well, I hope you’ll at least believe me when I tell you that this isn’t going away.”

She hit the unlock button on her key fob as they reached the hood of her Telluride. “We’ll see about that.”

“Ms. Monroe, let me caution you against contacting your cousin or your uncle⁠—”

She stopped at her door as he did. “I have every right to speak to whoever I want.”

He shook his head. “Not when there’s a federal investigation underway. I’ll warn you that tipping your family off would be considered impediment. You could be charged with obstruction of justice, or we may consider you an accessory to a potential crime. Aiding and abetting can have serious consequences.”

She swallowed as she held his gaze, truly digesting what he was saying. Federal agents and investigations. Will and Uncle James. Potentially serious crimes.

Opening her door, she got in. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

Then she slammed it closed, buckling up as she hit the start button in her SUV and backed out, waiting until she was pulling onto the main road before she looked in her rearview mirror at Special Agent Tyler Corddry staring in her direction.

Shuddering out a breath, she gripped the steering wheel tighter as she headed home. All of this had to be a huge mistake.

“Well, that went well,” Ty said as he watched Lydia drive away. “Fuck,” he muttered as he walked back to his truck that he’d parked three spaces down from her spot.

He hadn’t necessarily expected anything less than exactly what he’d gotten, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t hoped that she would have at least listened to what he had to say.

“Fuck,” he repeated as he got in and started the engine, heading in the same direction that Lydia had gone, picking up her tail easily enough two blocks from her house.

His contribution to the Boston-based investigation was officially off to a rocky start, but he wasn’t about to give up, especially with his time crunch. Lydia was his ticket onto the Monroe compound. Now, he just needed to convince her to help him, which was easier said than done.

He pulled up to the curb, parking three houses down from her place in the pretty, upscale neighborhood as she pulled into her garage.

Sighing, he restlessly rubbed at his jaw, worrying a little as she got out and closed the garage door, knowing that what she did over the next several hours was out of his control.

The typical anxiety of things going to shit before they’d had a chance to get started was nothing new. It was the risk that came every time he made his approach in an undercover operation. But hopefully, Lydia would remember the latter part of their conversation about impediment of an investigation and obstruction of justice and keep what she’d learned to herself.

Mostly, he was confident that she would. He’d studied hundreds of people over the years. It was his job to understand their behaviors and motivations. From what he’d read about Lydia and had seen for himself, she had a strong sense of right and wrong. She was a rule follower. He was counting on that.

Sitting back, he took off his seat belt and got comfortable, watching as she moved in front of one of her windows.

She was gorgeous and fiercely protective of her family. Sexy and sassy.

He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of how she’d given him the business. It would be interesting to see what tomorrow would bring when their paths crossed again.

Chapter Four

Lydia yawned as she put her grilled chicken salad and a carton of Greek yogurt into her lunch box. The small container of strawberry vinaigrette went in next before she added an ice pack and zipped it closed.

She yawned again as she grabbed her homemade iced chai latte and snatched up the lunch box, heading for the garage in a pair of denim shorts and a pale-purple tank top, trying her best to ignore her dragging fatigue.

Typically, she had plenty of energy in the mornings, but usually, she slept at night. Unfortunately for her, she’d tossed and turned the endless hours away until the sun rose again.

She could only be grateful that today would be fairly easy. She had a million end-of-year meetings that tended to be a little on the boring side, but this was her first day without the kids.

Hitting the button for the garage, she put on her sunglasses and settled into her SUV, then backed out, waiting for the door to close again before she backed onto the quiet street.