Page 49 of Lethal Game

"Unless he doesn't need Alisa or her mother anymore," Savannah suggested. "Maybe he already has her father."

He'd wondered that, too. But why would Novikov need Dan Hunt? That was a question he still couldn't answer.

"Are you coming in?" Savannah asked.

"Soon. I have to meet with my ex-partner first."

"Is this the ex-partner who was hurt in the explosion three years ago?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were keeping the circle tight," Savannah said.

"She contacted me, and with Novikov's reappearance, I need to find out if she knows something. I'll be in the office after that." He ended the call, his thoughts turning from Tatiana to Stephanie.

He hoped she wasn't going to ask him about Novikov. Maybe she just needed to vent again. She'd done that a few months ago when she'd been frustrated by the job that kept her tied to a desk. Hopefully, he could just offer support and friendship and not have to discuss Novikov.

Ten minutes later, he arrived at Fiero's coffee shop in Venice Beach. Stephanie was sitting at a table in the back with two coffees in front of her. He smiled, thinking of all the times they'd met here, sometimes coming in together during a break or meeting up in the morning before they headed into work. For eighteen months, they had worked closely together and had become very good friends. But things had changed after she'd been shot, mostly because she'd had a difficult time accepting her limitations.

Despite some lingering physical ailments, she was still an attractive blonde with short, curly hair, but the cane against the wall by her chair reminded him that at thirty-two years old, Stephanie had a long life of disability to deal with.

She was lucky to be alive, and he was grateful for that, but her dream career had come to a crushing end three years ago, and he couldn't shake the guilt of whatever part he might have played in that.

When he got to her table, he leaned down to give her a hug. Then he took the seat across from her. "It's good to see you, Steph. How are you?"

"I'm doing okay," she said, a strain in her gaze that belied her words. "I got you your cold brew."

"Thanks." He took a sip, then set his cup down. "What did you want to talk about? Is Neil still driving you crazy at work?" he asked, referring to her micromanaging boss.

"Always. I can't write a report without him wanting to add acomma. But I want to talk to you about Novikov. I heard he's in LA. Is that true?"

"Who told you that?" he asked, stalling.

"My former CI."

"Which one?"

"That doesn't matter. I have a right to know if he's here, Jason." She grabbed her cane and tapped the ground with it. "He's the reason I need this to walk."

"I don't have confirmation Novikov is here." He chose his words carefully. He was comfortable lying on the job, but not with friends, not with people he cared about.

"But you know something," she persisted. "And whatever you know, you're keeping out of the LA office. Neil told me he heard you're on a special undercover assignment. I think that assignment is Arseni Novikov. He's here, and you don't want anyone in the office to know because you think there's a mole."

"You thought the same thing three years ago," he reminded her.

"And I still do. But you can trust me. I was with your father when he was killed, and I almost died next to him. If Novikov is in town, I want in. Let me help. No one has to know. I work in white-collar crime now. I'm chained to a desk, and no one pays attention to what I'm doing because it isn't very important."

"Everything is important."

"Not as important as Novikov. I need this, Jason. I need to get that man off the street."

Her impassioned plea moved him. If the situation had been reversed, he'd be doing the same thing. In fact, he probably wouldn't have even asked if he could help. He would have investigated on his own. "I understand where you're coming from, Steph."

"I don't think you do. This has been so rough on me, Jason. I fought like hell to get into the FBI. I wasn't like you. I didn't have an automatic entry into Quantico because of my father and grandfather. I didn't have people in high places looking out forme. I had to fight for every opportunity, and I was damn good," she said fiercely. "I'd still be good if it wasn't for Novikov. Being an agent was all I ever wanted to be. It was my life."

"You're still an agent."

"I'm an analyst. And I hate sitting at a desk, but it's all I'm allowed to do. Come on, Jason, let me help. I still have contacts."

---