The Agent's Surrender Read Free Page A

were you born this cold or did you work at it?”
    She smiled. “I guess that’s none of your business as it doesn’t relate to the case. If you can’t handle being a professional, I’ll just let the chief know your interest in the case has died and we’ll all happily close the book on this wild-goose chase.”
    He straightened, shaking his head. “You’re a piece of work.”
    “As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have a life and need to get back to it. I just came by to let you know you got your wish.”
    “Well, thank you for your consideration,” he said with open sarcasm; he knew the real reason she’d dropped by was to get the slip of evidence he held to his chest. Good luck with that—he’d made it up. “Have a good evening, Agent Fallon.”
    She glared, standing rigid, looking as if she’d just sucked a lemon, but she forced a smile. “See you tomorrow. Be prepared to work. I want to get this over with. Some of us have real work to do and don’t have time to chase fairy tales.”
    He chuckled. “Nice try, but I don’t bait that easily. Good night, Fallon.” He shut the door before she could retort. Work with Fallon? Nope. That woman was the original ice queen. And to think at one time he’d thought he was falling in love with her. What a joke. Besides, he worked alone. Fallon could do whatever she pleased as long as she stayed out of his way.
    * * *
    That’d gone about as well as she’d expected. But a girl could hope, right? Of course, she hadn’t expected him to welcome her into his home with open arms and offer her a beer, but she hadn’t quite expected him to be so rude. Well, yes she had. They weren’t buddies, and she preferred it that way.
    She walked with strong, purposeful strides to her car, suppressing a shiver at the bitter cold of a Washington, D.C., winter, and pushed the reality of working with Holden as far from her mind as possible. She was a strong investigator. Holden couldn’t have anything in his hot little hand that would change the outcome of her investigation. And that was exactly what she’d tell her father in about fifteen minutes, when she was expected for dinner with her brothers.
    There was a chance her father, retired Major General Gregory Fallon, hadn’t heard of this recent development, but then her father still had scarily deep connections, and a reverberation of this sort was bound to ripple some water under the boats. However, if he didn’t mention it, she’d keep the information to herself.
    She walked into her father’s house and followed the sound of voices to the living room, where her father and two brothers, Ian and Walker, sat enjoying a beer and talking shop. For a brief moment, a familiar envy arced across her heart for their easily defined relationships. Simply put, The Major was openly proud of his marine sons for their varied accomplishments, but when it came to his marine daughter, he always found cause to criticize. What would it be like to sit and enjoy a beer with her dad like her brothers did? The Major frowned upon women drinking—he said they lacked the constitution to handle their liquor. Yeah, her dad was unapologetically sexist and there was nothing she could do about it, least of all change him. Time to run the gauntlet. “Hey, Dad,” she said, announcing herself as she entered the room.
    “There she is, only a little bit late this time,” The Major said with a wink at Ian, who laughed at her expense.
    “Work kept me late,” she said, hating the defensiveness of her tone. “Reed threw me a big case,” she added, though she immediately wished she hadn’t.
    “Oh?” her older brother, Walker, said, intrigued. “Anything as good as that Archangelo case?”
    Her dad grunted. “Those Archangelo boys, waste of good military training... Twisted branches never grow into strong oaks,” he said, repeating the same bit of advice he’d shoved down her throat when he’d found out about her and