not like what you boys are thinking. We both live in the house, but it’s not like that.” Vincent glared at them both, then spat to the side again.
Okay, maybe not romantic, but protective. Still interesting.
Seth seemed about to ask another question when a female voice from outside the barn interrupted him.
“Vince! I officially love Ruby Tuesday! I so hope the owners end up boarding her here. Maybe I should offer a discount just so I can see this pretty girl all the time.” A burst of joyful laughter drew Conner’s focus.
The woman’s voice faded as she started talking to the horse, obviously common practice around here.
A moment later a woman in her mid-twenties—probably one of the college students Vincent had mentioned—led Ruby Tuesday into the barn. She stopped, noticeably shocked when she saw Conner and Seth. She looked at Vincent with concern then rubbed her head and took a few steps back.
“You okay, kiddo?” Vincent asked.
The young woman looked almost panicked. Conner stepped toward her with his arms held out in a soothing manner. “We didn’t mean to startle you, miss. My name is Agent Perigo. This is Agent Harrington.”
“You’re FBI,” she stammered out, still panicky. Did everyone here have an aversion to the FBI?
Conner smiled and tried to reassure the young woman. “Yes. We’re actually looking for Adrienne Jeffries. Mr. Vincent said she was riding. Did you happen to see her while you were out?”
The woman took a deep breath and rubbed her head again. She looked at Vincent, then back at Conner. But she didn’t respond.
Seth decided to take a shot. “We can assure you Ms. Jeffries isn’t in any trouble. We were just hoping to talk to her for a bit.”
The young woman took a couple of breaths and seemed to compose herself. “Okay.”
Seth looked at Conner, who shrugged, then asked, “Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’m here. You can talk to me.”
Conner could feel the shock rolling over him. This could not be the Adrienne Jeffries they were supposed to contact. She was too young, with her pixie-short hair and big brown eyes.
She was too damn beautiful.
“No.” Conner denied it before he could help himself. “Your mom, maybe? Is there another Adrienne Jeffries at this address?”
The young woman sighed and shook her head. “Nope, just me.” She led the horse over to Vincent and gave him the reins. “Let’s go inside the house to talk. I think we’ll be more comfortable.”
“I’ll come, too,” Vincent was quick to interject.
Conner watched as Adrienne laid a gentle hand on the older man’s arm. Obviously the protectiveness went both ways. He felt a little guilty that they were about to use that protectiveness against her.
“I’m fine, Vince, I promise.” Adrienne smiled at Vincent then turned to look directly at Conner. “If they’re FBI, I know why they’re here.”
There was definitely no smile when she said that. Vincent was obviously reluctant but agreed.
Adrienne Jeffries silently walked out of the barn, leaving Conner and Seth to follow, or just as obviously not to follow. They made their way behind her wordlessly. Conner couldn’t help admiring how well she filled out her worn jeans as she walked ahead of them. They obviously weren’t designer jeans, but who the hell cared if she looked like that in them?
Seth reached over and nudged him with his elbow.
“What?” Conner whispered, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from Adrienne’s jeans.
“I don’t have a hankie so I’m offering you my sleeve.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“To wipe the drool from your mouth, man. You missed some.”
Conner thought just a moment about gut-punching his partner before reaching the house but decided it wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t drooling, for God’s sake.
But his eyes were drawn back to her jeans one more time.
Adrienne Jeffries was definitely not some middle-aged woman who had worked for the Bureau a decade ago. Something was not adding up between what Chief Logan Kelly had told them and what Conner was seeing with his own eyes.
If she had been the Bloodhound for the FBI, then she would have been a teenager when it had happened. He knew that couldn’t be right. Something did not fit in this situation.
Adrienne made her way through the back door, not gesturing for the men to follow, but at least not slamming the door behind her. Conner and Seth followed her and found themselves in the kitchen. The room, like everything else they’d seen on the ranch—the front porch, the steps, the barn, her jeans—Conner quickly pushed that thought away—was clean but worn.
Adrienne crossed over to the sink, filled a glass with water and drank it down without stopping. Only afterward did she place the glass on the counter and turn to face them.
“Have a seat.” She gestured to the four chairs at the kitchen table. Conner took one and Seth took the one across from him.
Adrienne stayed where she was with her back against the sink counter. She didn’t offer them a drink or any food. Nor did she offer them any information. She didn’t exactly glare, but her gaze definitely wasn’t inviting. Conner reclined in his chair and returned the almost hostile look.
If this was the way she wanted to play it, that’s how he would play it.
Seth noticed Conner’s angry expression and sighed. They had played Good Cop–Bad Cop many times over the years, but it was usually Conner who was the good cop. He had a way of putting people at ease when he wanted to. But looking at the woman staring at him so haughtily, Conner had no desire to play good cop today.
“Ms. Jeffries,” Seth took over, “we’d like to ask you a few questions about your...contract work for the FBI.”
“What about it?” Adrienne spoke to Seth but continued to glare at Conner. Conner glared back.
Seth sighed again. “Can you tell us the nature of the work you did for the Bureau?”
Adrienne finally looked over at Seth, her stance softening a bit. “Why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in some gaps.”
Conner cut in. “How old are you?”
The glare was back at him now. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that is a rude question? Besides, I’m sure you have a fancy FBI file on me with that sort of information.”
Seth smiled engagingly. “You’d be surprised at how sparse your file is.”
Some of the heat left Adrienne’s eyes. “I’m twenty-eight.”
Conner
