Page 64 of Crosshairs

“Ainsley—”

“Why is this journal so important?” she asked.

“It just is.”

32

Holding a cup in each hand, Linc waited outside the door until he was certain Ainsley was off the phone before he entered the room. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the fresh coffee.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Doesn’t look like the conversation went too well.”

“Does it ever with him? He wants me to attend his fund-raiser tonight.”

Linc had gathered that much. “Are you going?”

“If I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. He said there’d be plenty of security.”

“I could be your plus-one.”

Her eyes warmed. “You’d do that?”

That and a whole lot more, if she’d let him. “Sure.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.”

He’d try to make sure it wasn’t. “Would you like breakfast? We could do a drive-through.”

“Cereal will do.” Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the ID and then at him. “Do you know a Hugh Cortland?”

“FBI,” he replied. A call Linc had been expecting after last night’s shooting on top of the attempt at Rocky Springs. “Sam Ryker probably called him.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes.

“It’s protocol and has nothing to do with your ability,” he said softly.

“I know.” She pressed the answer button. “Beaumont.”

Cortland’s voice boomed from her phone as he identified himself. Somehow, she must have hit the speaker button.

“How can I help you?” Ainsley thumbed buttons on her phone.

“I’d like to”—Cortland’s voice dropped as she found the right button, but he had a voice that carried, allowing Linc to hear the conversation—“meet with you later today. I’ll be at Rocky Springs by one to take a look at the crime scene. Would that be a good time and place for you?”

“I’ll make it work,” she said.

“Good. See you then.”

Ainsley pocketed her phone and turned to him. “I hate to ask, but could I get you to follow me to that body shop you mentioned, then take me to a car rental?”

“No problem. I’m off today and at your disposal. But the body shop owner may not work on Saturdays. Let me call and see while you grab a bite to eat.”

“Thanks. How about you?”

“I had cereal before I drank coffee.” He followed her to the kitchen while he made the call. As he suspected, the body shop wasn’t open but the owner said he’d meet them and put her truck inside the fence.

“Good,” she said when he relayed the message. “Did he say how long it’d take to repair it?”

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