Page 19 of Code Name: Admiral

I nodded once to Blackjack, who relayed the message through the comms. His expression remained professional, but I caught the flicker of concern in his eyes.

Once the men edged by us, my gaze met Alice’s a second time.

“You can wait here,” she said, answering the question I hadn’t asked.

I nodded at her like I had at Blackjack, wanting to add that I’d be right here if she needed me, something I doubted Alice would take kindly to. The unspoken words burned in my throat.

The woman brought out the protector in me, but that wasn’t the only pot she stirred. The pull I felt, longing to take her in my arms, kiss her, peel the clothes from her body, and bury my hardness in her heat, was ever-present, regardless of how inappropriate and ill-timed most of those thoughts were. Every movement she made sent electricity through my veins, and every accidental brush of her arm against mine felt like a brand on my skin. Had another woman affected me the way Alice did? If one had, I couldn’t recall the same intensity of feelings, of desire, of want. This wasn’t just attraction—it was as if some cosmic force had reached down and tied our fates together.

I leaned against the wall and turned the comms down, not wanting to miss a single sound she made. Her footfalls started, then stopped for a few seconds before starting again. Each pause made my muscles tense, ready to spring into action.

Could she carry all she was collecting? Should I offer to help so she didn’t feel as though she had to leave anything behind? Again, as capable as the last hour had proved her to be, I could predict her reaction. The fierce independence that drew me to her also frustrated me beyond measure. Alice was a woman used to doing everything on her own, relying solely on herself, even tothe exclusion of her sister. Would there come a time when she’d let her guard down enough to allow another to ease her burdens? I supposed she had by agreeing to meet me. Though it felt less like trust and more like a desperate necessity.

When her footsteps faltered, my heart seized—my instincts screaming that she needed me. Every protective impulse I’d developed over the years in this business roared to life. The sound that followed shattered me: a raw, guttural sob that echoed through the empty halls. I tore through her apartment, my pulse thundering in my ears, until I found her in Sarah’s bedroom. Like the other rooms I’d rushed past, it had been torn apart, showing signs of a frantic search, most likely by my own blood relative, the man responsible for her death. The destruction spoke of rage as much as purpose. This hadn’t just been a search; it was an act of violation.

The sight of Alice destroyed me. Her shoulders convulsed, each breath a desperate gasp that seemed to tear her apart from within. Her pain was palpable, filling the room with its intensity. Without thinking, I crossed the space between us in two desperate strides and pulled her into my arms, bracing for rejection. But Alice collapsed into me instead, her fingers clutching my shirt as if I were the only solid thing left in her world, her tears soaking through to my skin. The trust in that gesture humbled me, even as her grief tore at my heart.

Her sobs gradually quieted, but Alice’s grip stayed fierce. Her breathing steadied against my chest, though tremors still ran through her body.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “I found her diary. It was as if she knew—” The words caught in her throat.

I took in the room where drawers had been pulled out, emptied, and their clothes strewn across the floor. Sarah’s smiling face from precious moments captured in photos, thenfrozen in time, looked up from where they lay amongst shattered glass and splintered wood and plastic from picture frames. The spines of the books that had been yanked from shelves were cracked, and the mattress sat askew, the bedding tangled and trailing to the floor. Desk drawers gaped open, their papers scattered like fallen leaves. Dirt had spilled from a plant that lay tipped on its side, and a jewelry box had been turned upside down, the contents scattered across the dresser. A glass of wine that had likely been full had fallen to the floor, leaving a dark stain that spread through the carpet. The red stain looked enough like blood that I wished I could prevent Alice from seeing it, even though she probably already had.

“Where did you find it?” I asked, stunned that whoever had tossed the room left it behind. My mind was already cataloging the implications—if the perpetrator had missed this, what else might they have overlooked?

Alice pointed to an oversized book, big enough to be an unabridged dictionary. It sat open, and in the middle, a space had been carved out where the diary must’ve been inserted. The careful craftsmanship of the hiding place spoke of Sarah’s methodical nature. Like most of us who worked in law enforcement, she had been well aware of the evidence she’d need to protect if she was forced to leave it behind. Odds were that it had been missed because whoever had done the damage was interrupted and the search hastily abandoned. If so, it meant they’d come back to finish what they started. The thought sent icy determination through my veins. What was still here had to be protected.

“We need to document everything,” I said softly, not wanting to break the fragile moment. “Anything that might tell us what Sarah knew.” Alice nodded against my chest, but made no move to pull away. I didn’t rush her. Sometimes, the only thing you could do for someone was to be the solid ground beneaththeir feet while their world quakes around them. So I held her, one hand moving in slow circles on her back while my eyes continued scanning the room for anything else that might be significant. On the other hand, nothing should be considered unimportant, which meant everything needed to be packed up and relocated to a place where Alice could be the one who sorted through it all.

But where? The bureau had several safe houses, both in the city and the surrounding suburbs. Each would be too cold, too sterile. The woman who still clung to me had suffered loss like most never did, not just with the death of her sister, but also her parents.

The idea that she’d face another task that would rip her apart the way just being in this apartment had wasn’t something I could accept. I needed to figure out another solution and take her somewhere she’d feel safe letting her tears fall as freely as they did now. A place where I could be close enough for her to turn to me if needed, yet remain far enough away to give her the privacy she deserved.

As if she suddenly realized she was clinging to a man who was a stranger, her body stiffened and she pulled away. Her eyes, though, remained riveted to mine.

“I’ll arrange for a team to pack everything up.”

“Neither her laptop nor her phone are here.” Her breath caught, and I put my arm back around her.

“Noted, and nothing will be discarded, Alice. When you’re ready, you can look through it all.”

“Where?” she asked, surprising me with the acquiescence I took the word to mean.

“I’m not certain yet.”

She nodded, but I could tell by her eye movement that she was processing what I’d said and formulating her own plan.

“You’ll need to relocate as well,” I said, deciding we might as well address that now too.

Again, she didn’t argue, but rather than relief, I felt worry. If she’d countered what I said, I’d have some idea what she was thinking. Silence told me nothing.

“What about Bobby Kane?”

“Meaning?”

“He murdered my sister.”

“You know as well as I do that without sufficient evidence, arresting him will do more harm to the case than good.”

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