Page 76 of Crossfire

“Is your wife home?” I asked.

Daniel regarded me. “She’s visiting her sister in San Francisco. Why?”

Good. Then, I could speak freely. “Why was I sent to kill Samantha Jackson?”

He stilled, his eyes narrowing. I didn’t normally come to his place after assignments.

“Ah hell.” Daniel ran a stressed hand through his silver hair. “We had another miss?”

“A complication.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

Daniel clenched his eyes shut. “Jesus, Grayson. What happened this time?”

This time.Offense pulsed through me.

“Why did the CIA order this hit?”

He cocked his head. “The hell do you mean?”

“They think she’s a violent criminal. Why?”

“Think?” Daniel repeated. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Do they think she’s working for Vosch?”

“What’s with all the questions?” Daniel took a step closer to me. “What happened?”

“Samantha Jackson. Did you know that it was the woman from the garage?”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “The surprise guest?”

“You didn’t know?”

“If I had known, I would’ve told you.”

“Why wouldn’t they tell us that?”

Daniel rubbed his neck.

“How did someone else in the CIA figure out she was the one in the parking garage before we did?” I pressed. “I thought we were the ones looking for her?”

“Come on.” He motioned with his chin. “I’m going to need a coffee to wake my ass up for this conversation.”

I followed Daniel to his kitchen, where the scent of last night’s rain on my skin mingled with the lingering aroma of burned coffee from yesterday’s pot. Daniel rinsed it out and set up a fresh one to brew.

“If someone else in the CIA already knew who she was, why did I spend two days stalking this woman, trying to get her name?”

“Because we didn’t have her name,” Daniel said. “It was our responsibility to figure out who she was. She interrupted our mission.”

“Is that why the CIA wants her dead? Because she interrupted our mission?”

The sound of the coffee maker gurgling to life provided a mundane backdrop to our grim discussion.

“We don’t end witnesses,” Daniel answered. “You know that. We carry out orders for one reason—to eliminate mass murderers before they can kill a bunch of innocent people. The only reason the CIA would have ordered the death of Samantha Jackson was if they had proof she was responsible for, or had plans to kill, an ungodly number of innocent people. And if they knew she was our surprise guest, they would have told us.”

“Would they?”

Daniel’s sigh cut through the tension, his hands grabbing his hips, framing his frustration as palpably as the tight set of his jaw.