I need to do to get back in the game?”
FOUR
Lucas protested, “No way, this is just too dangerous.” He looked at Justin. “How could you even think of putting her life in danger again? You couldn’t protect her last time and even lost two agents, what makes you think this time would be different?”
Before Justin could respond, Anna placed a calming hand on Lucas’s forearm, appreciating his defense of her but aggravated at the same time. “Stay out of this, Lucas. I appreciate that you care, but I didn’t ask you to come.”
Hurt flickered in his expressive eyes right before a shutter closed off his feelings from her view. “Fine. I’ll wait outside while you figure out how to get yourself killed.” He left the room without a backward glance.
Blowing out a breath, her heart told her to go after him. Common sense said the sooner he left, the safer he would be. She was trained for this, he wasn’t. Mentally, she made another check mark by the category “apologies owed to Lucas” then focused back in on what Justin was saying. “…might need to get you back under our protection.”
No way. Not that. “Can you search his house again?” she asked.
“We could if we had probable cause. Unfortunately, I don’t have that.”
“Then it’ll have to be me.” Nausea churned at the thought. “I’ll have to go back in there and find it.”
A surprised snort slipped from his nose. “I don’t care how different you look. You’d be recognized in a heartbeat. No way.”
“Come on, Justin, even you almost didn’t recognize me earlier. And you’ll just have to come up with a valid reason to search the man’s house again. You and I know his criminal activities didn’t stop because he was in jail. As much as I don’t want to do this and, honestly, wouldn’t have considered it before this morning, I’m determined now, Justin.” She leaned back against the plastic sofa, crossing her arms over her stomach. “So we need to come up with a plan.”
“Still thinking crazy, aren’t you?”
Anna swung around. Lucas stood in the door, one shoulder casually posed against the doorjamb. Her emotions lurched. But fear for him overshadowed anything else. She arched a brow. “I thought you left.”
“I’m back now.”
Justin broke in, back to business. “Forget it, Anna. It would be suicide. I can’t even consider it. You know that. In fact, I should be tossing you into protective custody after that restroom incident.”
She bit her lip, thinking hard, examining her emotions. Was there any way in the world she could pull this off without the memories destroying her? She’d gotten herself to the place where she could hold a gun again, but what would happen if she found herself on the wrong end of one? Would she be able to handle it? She insisted, “I’m not going into protective custody. And I want to do this. I have to do this.”
“No!”
Anna cringed at Lucas’s outburst.
Justin shot a look at Lucas, slapped his hands on his desk and rose to his feet. “I’m afraid I agree with your boyfriend here. You’ve been out of the field a long time. And your cover was blown. I can’t even consider sending you back in there.” He shook his head. “No, we’ll figure something out. Just give me a little time.”
How much more time did the man need? She rubbed her left side, moving her hand across her abdomen. It was tempting to give in and assume someone else would take care of everything, but she couldn’t take that chance. “So, what now?”
“Lay low. Hide out. We’re actually working on something, coming from things at a new angle. If this works, the only thing we’ll need you for is when all this comes to trial. So keep your head low and keep in touch, okay? And if anything else happens, you’re going into protective custody whether you want to or not.”
Not likely, but she ignored that point. “A new angle? What new angle?”
“The wife.”
“Oh brother, you’ll never get anything out of her. She’s as jealous as the day is long, but she’s fiercely loyal to the man.”
“Well, we’ve also come back to looking for de Chastelain’s brother. It’s crazy. There’s practically no information on Brandon de Chastelain. As you know, both boys were in the foster care system forty years ago. But we can’t find his records anywhere. Back then everything was done on paper. Things got misfiled, lost, whatever. Shawn is all over the place. But Brandon…” He shook his head. “Nothing. All we know is that the two boys were raised in foster care from the time Shawn was six years old. We haven’t even managed to find a birthdate for Brandon.”
“What do you have?”
“I’m getting to that. There’s a Brandon de Chastelain somewhere in Canada. We’re going on the assumption that’s the brother we’re looking for. He’s a street preacher, of all things. No known address, no credit cards, no bank accounts, you name it. There’s nothing even on the Internet about him. He lives on the streets with the people he ministers to. We’ve been trying to find him for over a year now. We’re thinking he moved on to another area, but we’re at a loss as to just where to start looking.”
Justin was shaking his head, rolling his eyes. “But the brother was a dead end four years ago, so I’m not holding out much hope now. Nevertheless…do I need to put you up in a safe house somewhere or can you stay beneath the radar until we get this wrapped up?”
“You think it’s going to happen soon or will I be ‘flying beneath the radar’ while another four years go by?”
Justin flushed red, the vein in his temple starting to pound.
Anna held up a conciliatory hand, “Sorry, I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for. Although if that guy had wanted to kill me, he would have pulled the trigger. But he didn’t, which is a bit strange. Regardless, I will keep out of sight as much as possible. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be working on digging for more information.”
“I’ll watch out for her,” Lucas promised.
“And you’re trained in…what?” Justin asked derisively.
“Well, I’m pretty good with a scalpel, and I’ll be staying in a house with better security than Fort Knox.”
“You can stay with me,” Lucas announced as they left the FBI office, both of them shivering once again in the nippy air. The smell of hot dogs coming from the sidewalk vendor’s cart tantalized her nose. Then his statement smacked her brain.
Anna nearly tripped on her way down the steps, his comment registering through the rush of memories that had just assaulted her. She was now standing on the very step where she’d been shot four years ago.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“I don’t mean with me alone, I mean with me…at my father’s house, with the rest of my strange extended family and our loyal staff.”
Her mind played the mental video she couldn’t
