Finding Grace (21 page)

He stood up. “This true, Officer Griggs?”

Griggs didn’t answer and Luke didn’t need him to.
He’d already admitted to assaulting a handcuffed prisoner who
wasn’t resisting. As for the other charge, he’d have to ask Thorne,
but it wouldn’t surprise him. There were rumors around the precinct
that Griggs was a gay-hater.

“Don’t tempt me to let Dagger have you. The man’s on
a short fuse today and I’m not sure this old office can take much
more. You’re on unpaid leave as of now, while I look into this. And
if I see that union rep in my office, believe me, it’s not going to
help your cause any. Close the door behind you.”

He sat back down and looked up at Dagger as he
scrubbed his face. “Shit fucking Mondays. Thanks for bringing that
matter with Griggs to my attention and for not tearing the man limb
from limb like I know you want to. I understand, I really do. I
wish Thorne had told me, but I’m not surprised she didn’t. She
doesn’t have much trust in the system, not that I blame her.

“Anyway, think about what I said. Thorne’s tough and
brave, but there may be some things she’ll never get over. You can
either accept that, or walk away. That’s not a heart I’d like to
see broken, Dagger. I mean it.” He let his face harden, his
gratitude and admiration for her shoring his courage in the face of
the most dangerous man he’d ever known, on either side of the
bars.

As soon as Dagger left his office, Luke picked up
his phone to call Paul, give him a heads-up, but no one answered.
He tried twice more before leaving a message. He stared at the
phone and frowned. There was always someone around to take calls at
Blackridge. What was going on over there?

* * * *

Dagger decided to walk to the office instead of
calling a cab. It wasn’t that far and Luke had been right, he did
need time to think. But he didn’t like any of the thoughts that
were spinning through his head, even if a lot about Grace made
sense now. He could only hope his imagination was coming up short
on the details of what had happened to her. The rage he was feeling
had him drenched in sweat even though it was snowing again and the
wind was snapping at his face.

Too bad the only available target for that rage was
himself. He’d told her to just get over it, had actually called her
a crazy bitch. He couldn’t forget her eyes and the way she’d looked
at him when he’d slammed the door. He’d made her cry. Fuck, he was
an asshole. He didn’t deserve her. That didn’t mean he was going to
let her go, though. He just couldn’t imagine living without her.
However she wanted it, whatever she could give him, he’d be goddamn
grateful for.

He swore at the big black SUV that went speeding
through a big puddle in the street, soaking him in filthy slush,
and caught the passenger’s eye. Could this day possibly get any
fucking worse?

Chapter Fourteen

Even through the din of the ranting, the reek of
vomit, the cigarette’s stale smoke, and the crushing weight of his
own helpless remorse, Paul met his friend’s eyes across the room
and saw the strange vulnerability behind Dagger’s shock and anger.
It instantly confirmed his suspicions about what was going on
between him and Thorne. He recognized that dazed look, too. He’d
seen it in the mirror after his first argument with Katherine
before they were married—when, just for a moment, it had occurred
to him that he might lose her.

The situation, as he saw it, wasn’t just godawful,
it was thoroughly damned.

He handed Dagger the letter with General Ross’s
signature.

“Tied our hands like steel cable. If that was anyone
else’s name, Darmfelder would never have gotten in the door. I
tried to call, of course. The general was out. If I had it to do
over…I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Dagger didn’t seem to notice his internal battle. He
just nodded, scanning the contents of the paper before letting it
fall from his hands to litter Thorne’s desk. He stared out the
window. After a minute, the room fell silent.

Farley shifted uncomfortably under the quiet. “She
put up a hell of a fight, Dagger. Took two of ’em to take her down
and that was after she puked all over Major Asshole. One’ll have a
shiner by dinner and the other one will be walking with a limp till
after Christmas.”

“Cigarette smoke makes her sick.”

Dagger’s voice sounded raw and he swallowed after he
said it. Paul knew he was remembering the first ride he’d given
Thorne.

The returning silence in the small crowded office
was almost deafening.

Farley said, “I think that sadistic little pissant
knew that. The smile on his face when she was laying there, cuffed
head-to-toe, all small and hopeless-like, made me wanna puke
myself.”

Paul watched Dagger’s death grip on the back of
Thorne’s empty chair tighten. “Farley—”

“Look, here’s her glasses.” Markham picked them up.
“Hey, they’re not even prescription.”

“Yeah, they flew off when the one little shitweasel
backhanded her,” Farley offered.

“Not helping.” Paul said. But it was too late.

The back of Thorne’s chair snapped like a twig.
Right before it sailed through the window.

The room was quiet enough to hear the chair land and
the glass tinkle before Markham asked in a hushed tone, “That what
happened to the window in the big office?”

“Nope,” Farley innocently replied. “Thorne did that.
Right before she jumped.”

Paul knew it was time, past time really, to be the
one to answer the questions, before he actually had to gag
Farley.

“She did that because she thought I was going to
expose her.” Everyone looked at him, including Dagger.

“So now you understand how important it was to her
that no one find out she was a woman, or what happened to her.” He
looked around the room. “I never lied to you, Dagger, not to any of
you. I never once referred to Thorne as a ‘he.’ I just let you all
make your assumptions. Thorne wanted it that way. Hell, she needed
it that way. Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to come
in here and trust a bunch of men? Would you have had me break my
promise?”

Dagger’s shrug was grudging.

“I suppose there’s no harm now in filling in a few
details.” Paul abandoned Thorne’s office to the weather. The rest
of the men followed him into the big one.

He leaned back against a table and exhaled through
his nose. “Grace Thorne sold her first patent when she was sixteen.
That was the one the major was referring to.”

“Ya knew?” Mills’s eye narrowed.

Paul glared at him and cleared his throat. “I read
every report, including the classified one, and all of the
information available on Thorne before I recruited her. I vetted
her fully, just like every other member of this team.” He paused
and looked around the room. “She answered all of my questions more
than satisfactorily during the interview. What the major neglected
to mention was that she sold that first patent to a U.S. company.
It was hardly her fault that it was bought out by a French company
three years later. Everything in the major’s report was either
twisted like that or pure conjecture, as Thorne said earlier today
when you were all doubting her. Now, can I get back to the
story?”

His gaze met sheepish nods.

“She’d been living in foster homes as a ward of the
state. After the sale went through, she applied for emancipation.
Although it’s rarely granted to someone so young, she was able to
prove she could take care of herself. She became Dr. Grace Thorne
just after she turned twenty. She disappeared on her twenty-first
birthday. What was left of her was found six and a half weeks later
in a ditch.”

A tortured crack filled the room. Another chair had
ended its useful life.

He went on quickly, before Dagger turned any more
furniture into kindling on the sidewalk. At least, unlike Thorne,
it could be replaced. “The major was correct, however, in that she
was not expected to recover. She was in no condition to testify
against the three men who’d…” He trailed off. “Their sentences were
ridiculously short. Dr. Thorne dropped out of sight not long after
they mysteriously died in prison. That was all about five years
ago.”

“How exactly did they die?” Dagger sounded a little
better, a little more alive.

“Simultaneously. Some kind of electrical accident.
They never did figure out what caused it.”

“Electrical? Huh.” Dagger’s grimace was slow and
thoughtful.

He couldn’t help returning it. “Thorne was in a
cyber cafe at the time it happened. Her browser history revealed
some comic books sites and a fancy online shoe store. The
investigation stopped there. She neither admitted nor denied having
anything to do with it when I raised the question, although she did
offer her philosophy.”

Slow nods spread through the office.

Mills surprised everyone when he said, “Good thing
she’s on our side. Damn and hell, though. Wish I’d known she was a
woman. I wouldn’t have been such a…An’ her such a lil’ thing, too.
Well, sounds to me like she saved us some trouble, anyways. If they
wasn’t already dead ’n buried, I’d feel obliged to…Jus’ whatever I
can do now, I guess.”

Another round of nods.

It was quiet after that until Dagger looked at him
and said, “I’m going to need a few days off.”

“Yeah, me too,” everyone else said at the same
time.

Paul frowned and looked around the room. “We’re all
thinking the same thing, but we need to do this right, settle this
for good. There are proper channels, the right people to talk to.
I’ll speak to General Ross as soon as I can find him. It’s a pretty
sure bet that Darmfelder’s taking her to Washington. We
will
find her and we
will
bring her back. It’s just going to take
some time. I don’t want anyone going off the reservation.” He
looked directly at Dagger.

He pushed off from the desk and went to his office
to start making phone calls, first about Thorne and then about
getting the window fixed and some new furniture. But the message
Luke had left stalled him.

It had been bad enough trying to not to think about
Thorne in the hands of that sick little prick. He wondered how much
worse the bad dreams would be now that he shared in the guilt.

But on top of that, there was Dagger to worry about.
Luke had further confirmed his suspicions about Dagger’s
relationship with Thorne. The whole team wanted to rescue her. How
was he going to stop Dagger from running off and doing something
that could send him to prison for the rest of his life?

* * * *

Paul’s leaving hadn’t stopped the men from
continuing to talk about Thorne. When they told Dagger what she’d
said, that she was sorry, he had to close his eyes against the
emotion.
She
was sorry?

Farley, who couldn’t seem to shut up to save his
life, said, “She sure fooled me.”

With some satisfaction, Markham said, “Not me. I
told you her hands were too small.”

Hawks didn’t say anything. He was looking at
Dagger.

Farley, the fucking idiot, went on, “And damn, she
is real cute, though, isn’t she? But then I think you knew that,
didn’t you, Dagger? No wonder you’ve been coming to work whistling,
wearing a smile and acting almost happy-like. Or did I get it
wrong?”

The whole room looked at Dagger. “What’s between
Grace, ah, Thorne, and I is none of any of your damn business.”

“Well, then,” Farley probed, “you won’t mind if we
take turns driving her home once we get her back. You know, give
the rest of us a chance to get in her good graces.”

Farley laughed at his pun, right until he could no
longer breathe because Dagger’s fingers were tightening around his
windpipe.

“No. You. Won’t. And neither will any of you other
bastards. Don’t even think about it and don’t make me think about
it.” Dagger ended the statement with a growl and shook Farley like
a big rag doll.

Mills jumped up and said, “Aw, Dagger, let him go.
Farley’s just pushin’ your buttons. We all knew somethin’ was up.
And Farley’s right, when you’re not bein’ a total ass, you’re
walkin’ around all dreamy. It’s fuckin’ scary as hell, Dagger.
Remember that li’l talk we had in L.A.?”

Farley was turning blue. Dagger slowly released him
and looked around the room. Everyone was nodding.

Between panted breaths, Farley said, “Why didn’t you
just say so, Dagger? I can’t be the only one who noticed how close
you two arrived every morning last week. You coming in the front,
Thorne coming up the back steps wasn’t exactly spy-like. Had me
wondering, I’ll tell you, cause I really did have Thorne for gay
and you…”

Dagger was looking at him through narrowed eyes.

Farley breathed fast and talked faster. “Never mind,
a whole lotta shit makes sense now—the way you’ve been acting
lately, Thorne being so…So what are we gonna do to get her
back?”

* * * *

“I understand. Of course. Thank you for letting me
know.” Paul slammed the phone down and yelled, “Dagger!” loud
enough to be heard in the big office, maybe even the next
block.

The big shadow that filled his doorway a long minute
later wore a face equally lightless. “More bad news?”

“You could say that, yeah. I’ve been busting my ass
for four days now, trying to get something, anything, on Thorne or
Darmfelder. It’s the damn holidays. General Ross took off for parts
unknown with his family, Katherine can’t even find him. DC is a big
ghost town and the Pentagon’s on a skeleton crew. I’m trying to
work with the contacts of contacts twice removed. And then I get
this phone call.” He slammed both hands onto his desk and pushed
himself up. “Goddamn it, Dagger.”

“What.” It hadn’t even been spoken like a question.
Dagger’s face was blank, but there was a hint of defiance sparking
his almost-black eyes.