Page 186 of Perfect Pitch

My lips press together. It’s not a question of readiness. Tony’s in as good of shape as any of our agents floors below. He was Keene’s and my XO in the army for years, and part of his responsibilities include protecting us to this day.

In all the years he’s worked for us, he’s never asked to go back out into the field.

Never.

Now, for whatever is inside that file, he’s commanding me—just like he used to when I’d be on classified missions in hellholes around the world. I blow out a gust of air. “What does it say?”

He summarizes what’s in the file. Just that quickly, just that swiftly, my heart begins to break. Not just for Austyn Kensington. Not just for her parents, who endured the ramifications of their daughter’s nightmare, but for one of our own—a man who lost the woman he loves.

All because he was doing his job.

Holding out my hand, Tony strides forward and slaps the envelope into it.

Just then, I catch sight of a picture of my wife and our three children on my desk. I know there’s only one person who can repair Austyn from the inside out. Slowly, I let the file drop to my desk. “We have to give Mitch a chance to fix this.” Fix her, is left unspoken between us.

“Mitch is already there. Not that it’s helping.” He jerks his chin towards the file.

I surge to my feet and wander to the view that entrances my wife whenever she visits me at the office. “He loves her.”

“Do you think that matters?” Tony’s voice drops to a growl when he informs me word for word what Mitch Clifton said to the woman he loves to protect her from physical harm.

I flinch before I turn from the view to face him. “We do what we can to clear the obstacles so Mitch can resurrect his Austyn.”

He jerks his chin at the file and rattles me when he orders, “Read the file. Then tell me if you feel that’s possible.”

He slams out of my office.

I stare at the packet of papers waiting like a coiled snake. Taking a deep breath, I cross back over to my desk and slide the file out. Flipping it open, I’m immediately confronted with an image of Charlie and a blond about my daughter’s age cradling a bleeding Austyn Kensington.

A pregnant Austyn Kensington.

An unconscious Austyn Kensington, whose hand is holding her stomach even as life-nurturing blood flows from her body.

Then one of the paramedics loading her into an ambulance.

I flip the page and begin to read. A “No!” escapes my lips. Now I understand what Tony means. Austyn Kensington is facing her darkest days. The question now is are the right people at her side?

I let the pages I’ve read flip out of my hand and lift my office handset.

Keene answers with, “Problem?”

I croak, “Yeah.”

“Bad?”

“Is there any other kind?”

My gaze is unable to look away from the picture of Austyn Kensington as she lost the part of her linking her to Mitch. I murmur, “What’s he going to do?”

“Excuse me?”

“Just get in here.”

“On my way.”

I hang up without another word. Then I bury my head in my hands and suck in a breath of outraged fury. “She’s going down,” I vow just as my office door opens, and Keene saunters in with his usual arrogance. It falters when I jab the button to place my next call on speaker. I don’t need to look up the number; it’s a number I’ve had memorized for the last twenty-five years. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Caleb.”

“Charlie. Keene’s with me,” I grind out. Keene’s eyes widen. In all the time Charlie worked for us, I’ve never spoken to him this sharply. I can tell by his body language Keene’s shifted into high alert.

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