Page 83 of Missing Justice
The ultra-neat living room with walls the color of a stormy sky and a bright white sofa looked straight out of a decorating magazine. It led to a hallway that stretched across the front of the building. At the end of it sat what looked like another large, open area that must have been the kitchen and dining area.
Taylor snapped on her gloves. “I think we’re good. Let’s see if there’s an office.”
Three open doors, two on one side, one on the other lined the corridor and Matt hustled along. First door. Bedroom. He popped his head in. No one. Next door. Bathroom. Also empty. The third door was ajar and he noted the exact position before pushing it open and finding the office. Bingo.
Before they left, he’d reposition the door, but for now, they were going in.
A huge mahogany desk served as the focal point in the room. A large bookcase held what looked like vintage books and various knickknacks and framed photos. No photos of babies, though. It struck Matt as odd.
None of that, for the moment, mattered. What held Matt’s attention was the three-drawer filing cabinet wedged in the corner.
“I’ll take the desk,” Taylor said. “You deal with that filing cabinet. Let’s be quick.”
* * *
Rosalind was Type A.
The top of her desk held little except for a thin laptop and single red file folder. The file had an elegant stamp on the front with the Hearts of Love logo. Inside was a birth certificate and adoption papers. Taylor had just snapped a picture of the birth certificate when she heard the squeak of the apartment door.
What the hell…?
She glanced at Matt, her blood rushing loudly in her ears. Someone was home.
He gestured at her as he tucked himself behind the open office door. It looked like he wanted her to get down.
Behind the desk? Was he kidding?
Knew this was a bad idea.
But, oh the rush of it! Breaking in, sneaking around, finding evidence…
Breaking the law.
We’re so dead.
“Yes, I know I’m late,” Rosalind’s irritated voice cut through Taylor’s racing thoughts. Matt was waving at her wildly. High heels clicked in the hallway. “I forgot the damned file. It’s right on my desk.”
Taylor shoved the birth certificate aside and shot a photo of the adoption papers. Slamming the folder closed, she dropped behind the desk and shifted the office chair in front of her, knowing it was a wasted tactic. No way they were getting out of this unnoticed.
Damn it! If she hadn’t already incinerated her career, this would definitely do the job.
She fired off the two pictures to Grey and wondered how bad her arrest photo was going to look with her black eye, unwashed hair, and total lack of makeup.
Pretty damn bad. When the press got hold of this, AD Cunningham was going to string her up but good. He’d probably line up the firing squad. At least Matt and Beck would visit her in prison.
Rosalind blew into the office, bracelets jingling as she kept talking on her phone and headed for her desk.
Taylor held her breath. How had she gone from elite FBI agent to running shotgun on an illegal B&E in less than twelve hours?
Mad Dog. It was all his fault.
Again.
Rosalind closed the space to the desk and picked up the folder from the other side. Taylor made herself as small as she could, sure Rosalind would hear her heart slamming into her ribcage.
Game over.
“Here it is.” Rosalind paused and tapped the folder on the desk. “Give me twenty. I promise you, it will be worth it. This baby is going to rock your world.”
