Page 49 of The Savior

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The work day kicked off with a small meeting. Mac had sat next to Chelsea as Calhoun discussed an upcoming partnership with the CDC to transport materials for a bioweapon project. The shipments were important to national security, and the Marshals were tasked with ensuring a smooth shipment.

As soon as the meeting had wrapped, Mac beelined for Calhoun, and they fell into a quiet discussion. When she’d joined them, the conversation died. It’d been spectacularly uncomfortable, and she begged off with a self-conscious wave.

Which was how she ended up staring at her laptop screen. The room’s fluorescent lights had mocked her firm belief that smoothies could act as a hangover wonder drug, because after the morning meeting and reading an email from Mac, Calhoun CC’ed, filled with questions and noting missing forms, a dull ache formed above her right eye.

Heat blasted from the air vent above. The stifling temperature didn’t help her headache. It had to be seventy degrees outside, but with Fall officially kicked into high gear with pumpkin-scented lattes and football chatter, the building’s maintenance department had decided to kick on the heat.

Chelsea tugged at her collar. She rolled her shoulders and opened a link to another form that Mac said she’d missed.Was he still with Calhoun? Why hadn’t he mentioned the paperwork if it’s so important?

She bet Mac and Calhoun were holed up somewhere with a fan or even a window that opened. Her jealousy knew no bounds at the thought of a fall breeze.

Maybe Chelsea could convince Calhoun to relocate her desk so that she and Mac could converse instead of shooting emails to one another. They weren’t even on the same floor.

Again, she tugged at the collar of her starched button-down blouse and wished she’d worn a thinner, less abrasive fabric. Taking off her suit jacket hadn’t helped much, and worse, despite the fact that she’d showered and readied as she did every morning, she could have sworn she could smell the slightest hint of bourbon hanging in the air, making her stomach turn.

A hard rap knocked on the doorjamb, and Chelsea jumped.

Calhoun stepped into her dungeon office. “How’s it going?”

She searched for Mac behind Calhoun’s large frame, but he was nowhere to be seen. She gestured to the screen and the printer. “About as can be expected.”

He gave a good-natured chuckle then settled on the edge of a short filing cabinet. “Mac mentioned there was some missing paperwork.”

She ground her molars. Mac was going to find himself dealing with a peeved partner if he had too much to say.

Calhoun waved his hand. “No one’s tattling, Kilpatrick.” But he crossed his arms and looked down his nose as if that weren’t true. “I asked if he was getting caught up.”

“I think he is.”

“There’s a big difference between providing backup and working this angle alongside you. I have the feeling that Mars is about to strike again. If we could find her before she does…”

She bit her lip, finding no reason to explain about Mac’s abysmal interest in Zee Zee Mars.

“He’s worried about you.” Calhoun’s gaze tightened. “And after talking to him, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was too.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am that he went to you instead of me.” For the life of her, she didn’t know why their relationship had grown rocky.

Calhoun sniffed. “And I’m more comfortable with Mac involved on the day-today when it comes to Mars.”

“I amthisclose to homing in on Zee Zee.”

He nodded like he’d heard it before—because he had. “And Mac will be by your side when you do.”

“Hewillbe,” she promised.

“Good. It’ll look great for all of to be able to earn that credit.”

Credit for what she’d been doing for years? The idea was infuriating. “He hates everything about Zee Zee,” she reminded Calhoun. Couldn’t her boss recall how often Mac had mentioned that Zee Zee had taken up important real estate on the most wanted list. Privately, he acted as though her obsession with Zee Zee Mars would hold him back from gaining leadership positions.

Calhoun moved to the window. He used his fingers to pull apart the blinds then yanked the cord. Sunlight flooded the already warm office, not helping her hangover. She tried not to wince.

“Not much of a view, huh?” Calhoun asked of the back alley lined with a row of dumpsters.

“I was never in this for the view.”

Fortunately, he dropped the shades. The blinds’ clatter echoed in her ears.

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