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  “You should’ve texted me. Or just called nine-one-one. I was right here. There wasn’t a reason to handle it on your own.” Her partner’s disapproval didn’t sit right on his handsome face. It made him look older—and irritated her.

  “Are you really telling me what to do, Holman?”

  “I know I’m new to the Dallas office, but I’m your partner. I’m here to help you.”

  Taylor paused her quick retort. He had helped her. Saved her ass, really. No way was she actually going to admit that to him.

  Not now. Not ever.

  “I had the situation handled.”

  Holman straightened. He stared her down, and Taylor hated that he had a good foot on her in height. “Right.”

  “It turned quickly. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

  He narrowed those blue eyes. “Bet you’re glad I was here, then, huh?”

  She sighed. Didn’t want to fight with him. If their boss let him work at the office instead of sending him home, maybe they could get somewhere on the case.

  Texarkana was out, at least for a few days—or more, depending on what Baker decided to do with Holman. That, Taylor wouldn’t do alone. She wouldn’t argue the point at all—she didn’t want to go, let alone face Joe Pompa by herself.

  Coward. She fought a wince.

  Bottom line, she really owed Holman one. Even if she couldn’t tell him. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He reared back, as if that was the last thing he’d expected to hear. His arms fell to his sides and his broad shoulders relaxed. “You’re welcome.”

  Taylor gave a curt nod.

  “Paramedics wanna check you out.” He thumbed toward the open ambulance and two hovering medics.

  “Nah. I’m good. Did you call Baker?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’d he say about you shooting someone on day two?” Taylor smirked.

  “He said to cooperate with DPD, and to come back to the office, of course. No doubt I’ll be out for a few days.” He frowned. “Baker was concerned about you. I am, too. What happened in there? Really?”

  “What d’you mean?” She frowned, too. Playing dumb was the way to go. Taylor wasn’t about to tell him about her little flashback when the robber had first put his gun in her face.

  It was over. Done.

  I’m fine.

  “He wants us back right away, I’m assuming?”

  “Yes, as long as Dallas is done with us. You know the routine, gotta turn my weapon in, and get another. DPD will be in touch. They’re only cutting us loose so fast because we’re FBI. And I’m sure Baker will have someone liaise with them.”

  “Probably so.”

  Holman nodded. “Carrigan, I saw the look on your face right before he grabbed you—”

  “I already said thank you, what more do you want?” she snapped.

  “I want you to trust me.”

  She stilled and looked up at him. Taylor uttered the truth, she couldn’t help it. “I do.”

  He blew out a breath and his face relaxed. “Good. I know we’re new, you and I, but I really want to be your partner.”

  His slight emphasis on the word for the second time made her want to snarl at him, but she didn’t. “According to Baker, you are. Mission accomplished.”

  “Baker isn’t who I’m concerned with.”

  She let it slide and sipped cappuccino.

  “Hey, the boss said one more thing.” Holman’s smile could only be called smartass.

  “What?” Taylor groaned, but knew what he’d say before he opened his mouth.

  “You can’t go back to the office unless the paramedics check you out. I’m supposed to text him a picture as proof.”

  “Jesus. Don’t expect me to smile.”

  His laughter followed Taylor as she stomped toward the ambulance.

  Chapter Twelve

  Holman insisted on driving back to the office, and, since she owed him one, Taylor didn’t argue about it—much.

  She replayed the holdup in her head, and promptly ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that said she’d been reckless. Should’ve called Holman, I had time.

  Her neck was sore, and the medics agreed with her partner. She’d have a nice bruise to show for her efforts, but nothing that’d kill her or leave permanent damage. If it was bad, she’d just slap makeup on it to avoid questions.

  The asshole robber had kneed her in the stomach. She’d probably bruise there, too, but at least no one would see it. It wasn’t sore at the moment, but maybe adrenaline was still taking care of that.

  Last thing she needed was for word to spread around the office about how she’d gotten her latest badge of honor. Holman’s version would no doubt be worse than hers.

  The pain of the holdup wasn’t only her soon-to-be black and blue throat. DPD detectives had reminded her and Holman before they’d left that they’d be contacting them soon with more on the investigation. Even if the FBI led, they’d still have to deal with Dallas PD, too.

  Oh, I just can’t wait.

  They’d just better be quick about so it didn’t impede her investigation.

  Taylor didn’t say anything to Holman as he parked her duty car and they headed into the building.

  “See you in a bit. Gonna see what the boss wants me to do,” he said.

  She nodded and went to their office. Taylor sank into her chair with a sigh. She’d cleared her calendar for the day trip to Texarkana, had focused solely on mentally preparing for Joe Pompa.

  Now what?

  First, she needed to let the prison know they weren’t coming. That was just a quick call to the warden’s office. Taylor let them know they’d be out soon, but didn’t elaborate on the reason for delay. The woman who’d answered the phone didn’t ask, either. Taylor told her they’d call again before showing up.

  She hung up, staring at the FBI logo wallpaper on the desktop of her PC. She swallowed a sigh. Might as well start typing up a statement of the holdup in an accurate timeline of the events—Baker would ask her for a formal report eventually. Holman would have to do one, too. And she wanted to be prepared for the internal investigation that would follow. She could share it with DPD, as well. Maybe it would help expedite both ends.

  She started typing, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she wrote the events of the morning. Taylor ignored her neck when it gave a throb instead of giving in to the urge to rub it, or study the injury in the mirror she kept in her drawer.

  Don’t think about it.

  Taylor let her eyes slip closed and replayed everything like it was a scene she’d been sent to assess, instead of a situation she’d been involved in. She saw the robber—whose name was Donnie Simmons—pop up from behind the counter and put the small stainless steel revolver in her face.

  A shudder shot down her spine. She released her mouse and shook her hands out. She hadn’t been thinking about Simmons shooting her—she’d been seeing Joe Pompa. That could’ve gotten her killed, whether or not her partner had shown up to play hero.

  Dammit, Taylor.

  She released a slow breath and flexed her fingers over her keyboard. She needed to finish up and convince herself she wasn’t traumatized.

  The phone on her desk rang and she cursed her instant startle. One glance at caller-ID told her it was Baker. “Yes, sir?”

  “Come see me, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.” She hung up and made her way to her boss’s office.

  “Carrigan, have a seat.” He gestured without looking up from whatever was on his computer screen.

  “What’s up?” she asked. It was odd for him to be so formal with her, then not acknowledge her until she took a seat.

  “I wanted to get your take on what happened this morning.”

  “Ah. I was writing up a statement right now. Who’re you putting on it?”

  “Probably Palumbo. Will brief him shortly.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Silence fell and Baker’s dark eyes appraised her until Tayl
or wanted to squirm.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “Oh, right. I could just finish my report—” She thumbed over her shoulder, toward her office.

  He gave her a long look.

  “All right.” Taylor started with the approximate time they’d pulled into the convenience store parking lot.

  He was quiet while she retold the holdup in its entirety, but his too-keen gaze didn’t waver, as if he was trying to find fault in what she was saying.

  Unless it’s something else. Like he’s trying to determine if something’s wrong with me.

  She wanted to glare, but didn’t.

  “Well, seems pretty straightforward.”

  Taylor nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.”

  “Palumbo shouldn’t have issue with a fast close-out. Holman will be off a few days, and I want you both to see Dr. Wong,” her boss said.

  “Excuse me?” she snapped. “No. Just. No.”

  Baker dragged his hand down his face. “You won’t fight me on this. It’s nothing personal. It’s procedure when agents are victims of a crime. Same as when you fire your weapon. Bottom line.”

  “I was not the victim of a crime.”

  “Your neck says otherwise.” He pointed. “True or false, someone held a gun to your temple today? And choked you?”

  Her hands flew up, but Taylor stopped herself short of covering bruising that was obviously already visible. She tugged on her shirt collar, and refused the wince at the twinge of discomfort that answered.

  She didn’t want to confirm her boss’s question. “I’m fine,” she said instead.

  “You’re always fine.”

  Taylor nodded. “Right.”

  Baker sighed and shook his head. “You’re gonna see the doc. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “Or what?”

  He leveled her with a glare as dark as his eyes. “Admin leave, but not a few days like your partner. A week. You’ll stay home, too. No casework. No email. No calling to check in. Suspension.”

  Taylor would never abide a mar like that on her record. Besides, disobeying a direct order went against her programming, as much as she didn’t like it. As much as she despised psychiatrists. She sucked back a groan. “One session, and I work no matter what he says.”

  “Three, and you only work if he clears you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Baker didn’t often raise his voice, no matter how hard his tone.

  This time, Taylor was close to pushing him to a yell, if the tic in his cheek was any indication. “Matthias—”

  “It’s not going to happen, Carrigan. Get what you can done with Holman benched.”

  She groaned. “Can he not work from the office?”

  “No, he’ll be off.” Her boss arched an eyebrow. “You mean, you’re not rejoicing that you’ll be on your own for a few more days?”

  “Either way is fine with me.” Taylor resisted a sigh and avoided his gaze.

  Baker’s mouth rippled as if he was fighting a smile. Considering she’d pissed him off only moments before, she’d take it as an improvement.

  “Glad to hear you don’t mind having a partner again.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she muttered.

  “I made your first appointment with Dr. Wong. It’s at three today.”

  Oh, God. “Can’t I get a break at all? What’s wrong with tomorrow?” she grumbled.

  “If you don’t show up, you can stay home tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day—”

  “I get it. I’ll be there.”

  “He’s willing to come here, if you need him to.” Again, Baker wore a ghost of a smile.

  “Uh, no. I’ll go to him. Office in the same place?”

  “Yes.”

  She stood, tugging her jacket straight.

  “Have a good afternoon, Carrigan.” Her boss smiled, but there was too much I-won-and-you-didn’t in it.

  Taylor narrowed her eyes. “You, too.”

  “Don’t forget to make your second appointment,” he said brightly. “The quicker you do three, the quicker you’re back to work. If the good doctor agrees.”

  Jesus Christ.

  She stomped back to her office. Holman wasn’t back from downstairs yet, and she was glad to be alone, if only for a little while longer. She had no doubt her new partner would pop his head in before he left. He’d probably need to say goodbye. She rolled her eyes.

  Taylor had just finished her holdup statement when her phone dinged in her pocket. She griped as she dug it out. Surprise, and perhaps a little pleasure, rolled over her when she saw who the text was from.

  How’re you today? Plans for tonight?

  She swallowed and stared. What should she say to Shannon? Her stomach gave a little tremor. Taylor had asked him out to dinner. Should she mention the offer and see if he was game?

  I shouldn’t.

  Taylor patted her hair, even though it was still in its tight chignon. She took a deep breath, then called herself an idiot. Who needed to compose themselves before sending a text message?

  She ran her thumb over the touch screen, since it’d gone dark with her hedging. She formed a message and hit send before she lost her nerve.

  I’m fine, and you? Should be out of the office about five. What were you thinking?

  Taylor crushed her eyes shut and called herself every name in the book.

  His answer was fast.

  I’m better now that I’ve heard from you. How about I meet you at your place? We can decide what to do then.

  She swallowed. And smiled.

  Okay.

  Shannon’s answer was a simple See you later, but for some reason her heart sped up.

  What am I doing? He’d calmed her last night, and Taylor hated to admit she could use another evening of that.

  She didn’t want to think about—or talk about—that kiss, and she wouldn’t let something like that happen again, so what harm was a little dinner?

  “Okay, so I’m out.” Holman’s voice made her jump.

  Taylor’s knee slammed into the side of her desk. She cursed.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her partner slipped into the room, his expression tight with remorse.

  “It’s fine.” She rubbed the throbbing spot through her dark slacks.

  Great, now I’ll have three bruises from today. And since when did she startle so damn easily?

  “Are you all right?” Holman asked.

  “Yes. I just finished my formal statement.”

  “Good. I’ll do mine, then I’m out. Baker told me to go home.”

  Taylor nodded. “I know, he told me.”

  “Will you go to Texarkana without me?”

  Hell no. “No, I already called. I’ll wait for you to get back. Hope Palumbo will be quick about things.”

  Holman sat in his chair and woke his computer up. “Me too. I want to interview Pompa and get on with this case.”

  She didn’t answer. Pretended to be busy on her PC, even though she watched him from the corner of her eye.

  “Not looking forward to meeting Doc Wong.” Her partner broke the ensuing silence.

  “Yeah, I have to go, too.”

  He swiveled his seat to face her. “Really?”

  Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Yes.” Tried to tell him with her glare that she had nothing more to say about that.

  Holman got the message and turned back to his report.

  Not even ten minutes later, he’d emailed his statement to Palumbo and powered down his machine. He offered Taylor a wave from the doorway. “Get a lot done while I’m gone.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Don’t solve it, though, I wanna feel needed and all that.” Holman flashed a smartass smile.

  She smirked. “Afraid I’ll steal your thunder?”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I guess. Take it easy.”

  “You, too.” Taylor watched him go. She shook her head, but couldn’t help the curving of her lips. Maybe her new partne
r wasn’t so bad, after all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shannon whistled as he jogged down the courthouse steps. The afternoon had gone surprisingly fast. Rather smoothly, too, even though the stupid defense attorney had grilled him as if he’d been the one driving drunk.

  Things were moving quicker than he’d anticipated. The charges would probably go to the jury tomorrow or the next day. He might be home by the weekend, and not have to come back Monday.

  When he’d gotten into Dallas he’d wanted the trial to conclude in a few days, but now…

  Taylor.

  A week in the city wouldn’t be enough. Or two weeks.

  Not after last night.

  He’d hedged all morning about reaching out to her, even if it was only one little text message. When Judge Newton had called a short recess, he’d caved. He’d wanted to see if she’d answer him.

  Shannon had half-expected her to turn him down, which was why he’d been casual in his probing. Shock had rolled over him when Taylor had agreed to his coming back to her place. He hadn’t had to play the you-were-the-one-who-asked-me-out card, but he might’ve. Shannon was driven to see her again.

  He hopped in his truck and tried not to be frustrated over the backed-up parking garage. It was going to take forever to get down the ramp and out of the place. The whole court house and surrounding buildings must’ve emptied at the same time.

  The drive to his hotel was short in theory, but not in five p.m. downtown Dallas traffic. His left leg bounced up and down, his boot tapping in time with the random song on the radio he was only half paying attention to. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and swung his gaze around, but his Tundra was stuck for now. He’d been able to back out of his spot, but hadn’t gotten much farther than a few feet down the narrow aisle.

  Shannon was antsy, not just because of the thick line of vehicles in front of him.

  What was it about Taylor Carrigan? And what was happening between them?

  They should talk about their kiss the previous night, but she wouldn’t want to, his gut told him that. He wanted to kiss her again—hell, he wanted to spend the evening in her bedroom exploring way more than just her mouth, but he wouldn’t push her.