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CHAPTER THREE
Thefluorescent lights hummed softly overhead as Jake sat at his desk in the small,cluttered FBI office. It was early morning, and the room smelled of stalecoffee and fresh ink. He stared at the paperwork from a recent case, but hismind wandered back to last night--Fiona's downtrodden expression haunted him,her usually sparkling amber eyes dimmed by the weight of disappointment. Theyhad been working tirelessly to find her missing sister, but all their leads hadevaporated into dead ends. Jake had tried to keep up an air of optimism, but asmuch as he hated to admit it, he knew the hope of finding whatever happened toJoslyn Red ten years ago was bleak.
But hehad to try, for Fiona's sake.
Fornow, he was dealing with the mundane parts of being an agent--Fiona was workingsomewhere else, and Jake had paperwork to do. Agent Stevens had asked Jake forhis help, and although it was monotonous work, he wouldn't let a colleaguedown.
"Hey,Jake, you still with us?" Agent Stevens asked, looking up from her ownstack of files.
"Yeah,yeah," he muttered, forcing himself to focus on the case report in frontof him. The words blurred together, meaningless behind the fog of worry forFiona. She was more than just his partner--the way he felt with her wasdifferent even from how he'd felt with his former partner, Lauren Price. Hisrelationship with Lauren had been entrenched in worries and doubts, but withFiona, he could finally relax. They were right for each other; he was certainof it.
But hehated seeing her sad and wished there was a way to cheer her up that didn'tinvolve doing the impossible.
Justthen, an idea struck him like a bolt of lightning. Maybe what Fiona needed wasa break—a night out to clear her head. No casework. No thinking about the past.An actual date. He realized with a pit in his gut that he hadn't truly takenher on one. They had gone from close partners to lovers quickly and had beenspending most of their time in each other's beds or working on cases. But Jakeneeded to take Fiona on a real date.
Heminimized the report on his laptop screen and opened a browser window,searching for local attractions. A myriad of restaurants appeared, but itwasn't enough. He wanted something that would truly lift her up. Fiona was astrange girl, an entomologist and forensic analyst and future FBIagent-in-training. She had a long resume now, but he knew that entomology waswhere her heart was at.
It wasan unusual passion, that was for sure, and Jake didn't share her fascinationwith insects.
Hiseyes still scanning the screen, Jake's heart leaped as he spotted an ad thatseemed almost too good to be true.
Atraveling entomology exhibit was coming to a museum in the city, and it wouldonly be there for one weekend.
Thevibrant image of butterflies fluttering near exotic plants screamed Fiona Red,and he knew he'd found the perfect way to lift Fiona's spirits.
"Gotcha,"he muttered under his breath, his fingers quickly moving across the keyboard ashe clicked on the ad for more information. The exhibit promised a rare andfascinating journey into the world of insects, featuring specimens from allaround the globe. He could already picture Fiona's face lighting up at thesight of all those weird bugs. As much as Jake hated bugs, he'd put up withthis for her. And besides, he liked seeing her in her element.
"Hey,you still with us?" Stevens called out from across the room, her voicepulling him from his thoughts.
"Ofcourse," Jake replied, forcing himself to focus on his surroundings. Thehum of conversation and rustle of papers filled the air, but it all seemeddistant and unimportant compared to the task at hand. "I just foundsomething interesting."
"Makinggood progress?" Stevens asked, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"Uh,not exactly," he admitted, feeling a slight flush creep into his cheeks."Just...something personal."
"Ah,got it," she said, raising her eyebrows with a knowing grin. "Well, Iwon't pry. Good luck with whatever it is, but Whittaker wants all thispaperwork done, and my ass is on the line if it's not finished. Thanks for yourhelp, Tucker."
"Yeah,anytime," Jake murmured, turning his attention back to the screen. Hedidn't have time to explain the situation to Stevens, nor did he particularlywant to. This was about Fiona and the bond they shared—a bond he hoped wouldgrow stronger.
With afew swift clicks, he secured two tickets to the exhibit, allowing himself amoment of satisfaction before diving back into the endless paperwork. Fionawould love this. He was sure of it.
***
Fionastood in the sterile white environment of the FBI lab, her gloved hands holdinga pipette over a glass slide, her brow furrowed in concentration. The airhummed with activity as her colleagues hunched over their own workstations,each immersed in their own world of high-pressure investigations. As the clockticked closer to lunchtime, the buzz of conversation rose incrementally, likethe crescendo of an orchestra.
"Hey,Fiona," called out one of the techs, a young man named Tim. "Lunchbreak's hit. I think your stomach's been grumbling louder than thecentrifuge."
Fionachuckled and set down her pipette. "You're right, Tim. I could eat ahorse." Her stomach rumbled as if on cue, affirming her hunger. She peeledoff her gloves, tossing them into a biohazard bin, then untied her lab coat andhung it up on a hook by the door. With a quick glance in the mirror near theexit, she smoothed back her long auburn hair and patted her cheeks to restoresome color.
As shestepped out of the lab, the change in atmosphere was palpable. The hallway,dimly lit compared to the bright workspace she'd just left, seemed almostsinister in its quietness. Fiona felt a sudden shiver skitter down her spine,momentarily halting her progress. But she shook it off, chiding herself forletting nerves get the best of her. After all, she was a forensic analyst andentomologist with the FBI; fear had no place in her line of work.
At theend of the hallway, Jake leaned nonchalantly against the wall; his arms crossedover his chest. A coy smile played on his lips, drawing Fiona's attention tothe day-old stubble that darkened his jawline. She couldn't help but admire theway his broad shoulders filled out his tailored suit, the crisp white shirt astark contrast to his dark complexion.
"Hey,Red," he greeted her, pushing off the wall and meeting her halfway."Thought I'd find you here."
"Hi,Jake." Fiona tried to sound casual, but her heart raced at the sight ofhim. Every time she saw him, it felt like a new surge of excitement coursedthrough her veins. "What brings you down here?”
"Ah,well," Jake's eyes twinkled with mischief. "I just thought I'd see ifyou wanted some company on your lunch break. If you don't mind, that is. Wantto join me at the café up the street?"
