Page 22 of Aftermath
“I guess,” I muttered, turning back and closing out of the files.
“Email me the rest,” Agent Beck stated, walking over to an empty desk and finding a pen and sticky note. He jotted down something and held the paper out to me.
“What is this?” I asked, taking it.
“My email.” He adjusted the strap of the bag he carried.
I read over the generic government email he’d handed me in disbelief. That was it? He just expected me to hand over everything to him and be done?
I’d worked long hours to collect all of this.
“No,” I answered, handing it back.
My arm remained extended, but he didn’t move. His eyes narrowed on me.
If he was going to continue my research, I wasn’t going to just hand it over. I wanted to help, to ensure the Coast Killer finally answered for their crimes. It was my entire motivation, the reason I started the project in the first place. I couldn’t just hand it all over and let it go, the same way I couldn’t let it go when Francis turned down the exhibit.
“No?”
“This is all of my research. I’m not just going to hand it all over. I want to help you.”
“I’m a federal agent,” he noted. “You’re a civilian. This is an investigation, not a project.”
“I know that,” I grumbled. The longer his eyes remained on me, the more flustered I became. It was like he could peel back every layer of the walls I kept up and slowly pick them apart. I felt disarmed.
“I could get a warrant for your laptop. You’d be hindering an investigation,” he pointed out.
Fuck.
I hadn’t thought that far when I opened my mouth. I needed a new angle, a way to convince him he needed me.
“There’s more to track down, documents I can pull easily through our systems. Documents you wouldn’t have to go through entire processes for if you allow me to help,” I tried, standing from my chair.
I crossed my arms, my white blouse clinging to me, making me feel warmer than I was. My eyes wandered to the clock, realizing there was only an hour left in my shift.
“I can take you to my apartment in an hour,” I offered. “I’ll show you everything I’ve gathered, and I promise to give you access to the resources I have if you let me continue to help.”
It was a deal I hoped he couldn’t refuse. He was a single agent working on a cold case. I didn’t know much of the bureaucratic workings of the FBI, but I knew enough to know this was not their priority.
Genuis, if I did say so myself.
I tried to keep the satisfied grin from my face, my foot tapping, waiting for Beck’s answer.
His face remained firm, and I saw his muscles in his arms tense up. The tattoos running down his right arm held my attention, and I followed the vines that climbed up his forearm to his bicep.
“That’s my offer, or come back with a warrant,” I said, turning my chin up.
He continued to stare at me, and I worried he may just walk. His eyes gave nothing away. I could see his mind racing but couldn’t piece together a hint at what he was thinking.
I heard footsteps approaching the door and glanced toward it. Francis’s voice carried into the room, and I knew I had little time to get him out of there before more questions arose.
“I will meet you at the café across the street after your shift,” he said, nodding to me as he walked toward the door, hands slipping into his pockets.
My heart pounded.
Had that seriously worked? Damn, I was a better negotiator than I thought.
Years growing up with an older brother, and I was glad I at least had something to show for it. I never would have survived as the pesky little sister if I wasn’t able to bargain my way into holding his favor.
