Profile Durango

Tom was definitely a risk to her well-being, for he brought with him the threat of unearthing memories she’d thought she’d carefully buried, memories too painful to bear.

TOM AWOKE before dawn was even a promise in the eastern sky. The first thing he did was reach over to touch his gun on the nightstand. It was an automatic gesture, born of years as an FBI agent.

The second thing he did was think of the woman sleeping in the room at the end of the hallway. He’d always believed that he’d made the right decision for both of them when he’d walked away from her.

It had taken the undercover assignment in Mexico and a near-death experience for him to reexamine the path of his life and think about the successes and the failures.

Certainly his job had been one of the successes. Growing up in the foster care system, it would have been easy for him to have wound up a statistic of failure, either dead at an early age or in prison. It had taken a local cop seeing Tom flirting with trouble to intervene and give Tom a new purpose and drive to succeed.

As he swung his feet to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, he scratched the ropey red scars that crisscrossed his chest and belly. Fifteen slashes, that’s what he’d received from the members of the drug cartel he’d infiltrated when they found out he was undercover FBI. They hadn’t stabbed him to death. That would have been too quick and easy. Instead they had cut him just deep enough to torture him, then had left him to bleed to death.

He’d spent four months in a Texas hospital fighting one infection after another and it was during that time that he’d realized that his personal life was a failure and much of his sense of failure came from his decision to leave Callie.

Water under the bridge, he thought as he got up and grabbed clean clothes from the closet where he’d hung them the night before. He darted across the hall and into the bathroom for a hot shower and once he was dressed for the day, he headed for the kitchen to make some coffee.

Minutes later he sat at the table and watched as the sunrise spilled orange light over the horizon. He heard the sound of water running and knew Callie was not only awake but in the shower.

It was going to be a tough day. Not only did he have to contend with Callie’s cool disdain, he also had a memorial service of sorts to attend. He frowned as he thought of Julie Grainger.

She had not only been a fellow agent, she’d also been a good friend. This morning Tom was meeting two other agents at a nearby park to say personal goodbyes to their fallen friend. Although officially Tom wasn’t assigned to Julie’s murder case, he intended to participate as much as possible unofficially.

Callie came into the kitchen, her features carefully schooled to indicate no emotion. “I see you found the coffee,” she said as she moved to the counter to pour herself a cup.

“You weren’t kidding about the refrigerator being bare. There wasn’t even a single egg in there.”

“There’s a cafeteria in the building with the lab. You can get breakfast there,” she said. “I’d like to leave here in about fifteen minutes and get to the lab.”

“Before we go we need to talk about your schedule,” he said.

She carried her cup to the table and sat down opposite him. One of her delicate blond eyebrows rose slightly, a gesture he knew indicated a certain level of stress. “What about it?”

“I think it would be in both our interests if there are no more late nights.” He held up a hand to still the protest he knew she was about to make. “Personal feelings aside, Callie, you have to work with me here. There’s no question that it’s more difficult for me to make sure you stay safe in the dark. I’d like you to leave the lab each day by dusk so we can get back here by nightfall. That’s the only thing I request of you, that small change in your schedule.”

The thinning of her lips as they pressed together let him know she didn’t like being reined in, but instead of protesting, she nodded. “Fine. Okay. I’m off the streets at dusk.”

Tom released a small relieved sigh. He had a feeling this would be the first of many battles they might have, but at least he’d won this one.

He took a sip of his coffee and eyed her over the rim of his cup. Clad in a long-sleeved white blouse and navy slacks, she looked all business, but the floral scent that emanated from her was all female.

“Callie, maybe it would be a good idea for us to talk, to clear the air between us,” he said as he lowered his cup.

Her shoulders straightened. “There’s nothing to talk about and the air is fine between us.” She got up from the table and took a gulp of her coffee. “I need to get to work.” There was a note of finality to her voice that indicated the subject was closed.

He got up from the table and placed his cup next to hers in the sink. “Just let me get my coat and I’ll be ready.”

He left her in the kitchen and headed to his bedroom. He supposed it had been foolish of him to try to get her to talk about the end of their relationship. And really, what could he say? That he was sorry? That he’d been a fool?

He’d known he’d broken her heart and that would always be between them. He couldn’t take back what had been done, so maybe she was right. There was really nothing to talk about.

He strapped on his shoulder holster then pulled on the black suit jacket that matched his pants. He grabbed his winter coat, then left the room and found her waiting at the front door.

Her light-blue ski jacket made her eyes an electric blue and complemented her blond coloring, but those eyes held the same cold frost they’d held the day before when she’d realized for good or for bad, he was back in her life.

They were both silent on the drive to the lab. He was already thinking ahead to the memorial service for Julie and at the same time watching the rearview mirror and their surroundings for any sign of trouble.

The Kenner County Crime Unit was located on the third floor of an old Kenner City annex building. “Don’t get out of the car until I come around to get you out,” Tom said as he parked the car in the parking space designated for Callie.

He shut off the engine and opened his coat to allow him quick and easy access to his gun, then left the car and walked around to the passenger door.

The air was frigid and held the scent of the possibility of snow. The long-term forecasts were warning of several potential big snowstorms coming into the area in the next couple of weeks.

He opened Callie’s door and as she got out of the car he pulled her close against him. He felt her stiffen, but he didn’t release his hold on her. This wasn’t about emotional baggage between them. This was about her safety.

He didn’t release her until they got inside the building. They were early enough that there was nobody standing to wait for the elevators. He pushed the up button and the doors immediately opened.

It was only when they were in the small enclosure that he began to relax. She would be safe here at the lab during the day when the place was filled with both law enforcement officials and coworkers.

“I’ve got some things to take care of today,” he said as they rode up. “Needless to say, I don’t want you leaving the lab for any reason until I’m back here to escort you home.”

She gave him a dry look. “I might not like what’s going on in my life, but I’m also not self-destructive or likely to be stupid. I’m not about to break the rules and get myself killed.”

“Good,” he said in satisfaction. There was nothing worse than being assigned a protective duty to somebody who didn’t really want to be protected or thought it might be fun to try to lose a bodyguard. Those were the people who usually found themselves dead.

The elevator door whooshed open and they stepped out into the hallway. A faint odor of smoke lingered and at the end of the hallway the supply closet was blocked off with bright orange cones that indicated it was a crime scene.

When they stepped into the reception area the dark-haired, dark-eyed receptionist greeted them.

“Oh, Callie, I’m so glad to see you’re back here and okay,” she exclaimed.

Callie smiled. It was the first genuine smile Tom had seen on her face and it punched a hole in his heart. He’d forgotten how her smile lit up a room, how it not only curved her lips but also warmed her cold blue eyes. “I’m fine. Elizabeth, this is FBI Agent Tom Ryan and Tom, this is Elizabeth Reddawn, receptionist extraordinaire.”

“Tom Ryan? Oh, I have a package for you,” Elizabeth said. She picked up a manila envelope from her desk and handed it to him.

It had been forwarded to him from FBI headquarters. He turned to look at Callie. “Is there someplace private I can go to open this?” He couldn’t imagine what might be inside.

“You can use my office. Follow me.” She led him across the lab to a door at the back of the room. The office was small and as impersonal as her home had been. “Feel free to use my desk if you need to,” she said as she grabbed a white lab coat that hung on a hook just inside the door and left the room.

“Thanks,” he said to her retreating form. He sat at the desk and tore open the manila envelope to reveal a letter-sized envelope inside. It was addressed to him and marked personal. In the return address space were the initials JG.

Julie Grainger? His heart began to pump with a rush of adrenaline. As he ran his fingers across the envelope he felt something hard inside. What the heck?

He carefully tore the top of the envelope open and withdrew the piece of paper that was folded up inside. He opened it and saw that it was a map of some kind. At the top of the map was a strange symbol, like the letters VDG entwined with grapes and vines. Vincent Del Gardo?

He shook the envelope and initially he thought it was a coin that dropped out on the desk. He didn’t touch it, but instead got up and called to Callie.

When she appeared in the doorway he pointed to the coin. “This coin or whatever it is came in an envelope from Julie Grainger.” Callie’s eyes opened wide as he continued. “I was wondering if you could check it for fingerprints.”

“Let me get a set of tweezers and a fingerprint kit and see what we have.” She left the office and returned a moment later. She carefully flipped the item over. “It’s not a coin. It’s a St. Christopher medal.”