Page 14 of Shadow Operative

But she still wasn’t sure. Should she simply spill the truth and hope they believed her? Or should she try for plausible deniability?

Nausea rose in her. She couldn’t do this.

But she feared if she didn’t answer, the person on the other side would break the door down.

She pulled herself from the couch and slowly walked toward the door, feeling as if she walked to death row.

Then she pressed her face against the peephole.

A man in casual clothing stood there. He didn’t look like a cop.

Could he be a detective? She supposed that made the most sense. But she didn’t recognize him.

She might as well get this over with.

After another moment of hesitation, Nia pulled her sweater closer and opened the door.

Gage drew in a breath as the door opened.

Nia Anderson stood on the other side. She looked even more beautiful in person than she did in her photo.

But he’d learned not to be fooled by beauty. He’d met many beautiful women in his line of work—and pretty faces didn’t mean anything. Rarely were they a reflection of what was on the inside.

He hated to sound jaded, but it was true. He would just focus on remaining single and unattached. Life was much simpler that way.

On his drive over, he’d come up with his cover story. Now he needed to sell it.

“Ms. Anderson?” he started. “I’m sorry to stop by unannounced—and so early, at that.”

“I’m Nia Anderson. I don’t know who you are, but I’m not feeling well.” She pointed to her pale face and red eyes.

“I’m Gage, a friend of Rob Lesner’s.”

She blinked, her face growing paler. “Are you?”

“Again, I’m sorry to stop by unannounced like this, but I haven’t been able to get in contact with Rob. I was hoping you might know something.”

She still held her sweater tight at her throat as she stared at him. “Why would I know something?”

“Because he told me you saw each other last night.”

Her face was now as white as a ghost. “And how did you get my address?”

“I did an internet search, and it popped up. I would have called, but I couldn’t find a phone number.”

She rubbed her throat. “I understand, but it’s not a good time. I’m not feeling well.”

She didn’t look as if she felt well, but Gage doubted it was because she was sick. Was this all a ruse to cover up the fact she was a cold-hearted killer?

“I just have some questions,” he insisted. “I’m not afraid of some germs. The truth is . . . I’m worried about Rob. I’m afraid something is wrong, and I need your help.”

“I’m still not sure what I can do.”

“I just want to walk through what happened last night. Maybe something you say will help me find him.”

Nia stared at him, a skeptical, weary look to her eyes.

Seconds ticked past.

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