Man Of Action. Janie Crouch
and Grace didn’t. They wanted to help. She just hoped she didn’t disappoint them.
Andrea slipped her jacket all the way onto her body. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”
There was nothing worth keeping her here.
Four years later, Andrea stood in front of a bathroom mirror inside Omega Sector headquarters. She smoothed her straight black skirt and made sure—again—that her blouse was tucked in neatly before checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time. Blond hair, cut in a sleek bob—the most professional haircut she’d been able to think of—was perfectly in place. Makeup tastefully applied and nothing that would draw attention to herself.
She was about to be fired from her job as a behavioral analyst at Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division.
Why else would Steve Drackett be calling her into his office at ten thirty on a Monday morning?
Actually, she could think of a half dozen reasons why he would be calling her in: a new case, a new test, some assignment he needed her to work on or a video briefing where her analysis was needed. But her brain wasn’t interested in focusing on any of the logical reasons he wanted to meet with her.
“Steve and Grace both know your background and still want you here,” she told her reflection. The scared look didn’t leave her eyes. She forced herself to vacate the bathroom and head down the hall. If Steve was going to fire her, there was nothing she could do about it.
No one said hello to her as she walked through the corridors and Andrea didn’t engage anyone. She’d utilized this keep-to-herself plan ever since she had realized exactly how important Omega was and the caliber of people they had working here in the Critical Response Division. Ever since Steve and Grace had officially offered her a job four years ago after six weeks of testing.
She may have a gift of reading people, but Andrea didn’t think for one minute that she was the sort of person Omega normally hired.
She’d known from the beginning she needed to keep her past a secret. Announcing to her colleagues that she was a runaway, dyslexic high school dropout who—oh yeah—used to be an exotic dancer would not inspire much confidence in her. So she’d made it a point not to tell anyone. Not to ever discuss her past or personal life at all. If it didn’t involve a case, Andrea didn’t talk about it.
Her plan hadn’t won her any friends, but it had successfully worked at keeping her secrets. She could live without friends.
Andrea pushed on the door that led to the outer realm where Steve’s assistants worked. One of them stood, welcoming and walking her to Steve’s office door and opening it. The clicks of Andrea’s three-inch heels on the tiled floor sounded more like clanging chimes of doom in her head as she stepped through.
“Hey, Andrea, good to see you,” Steve said from behind his desk, looking up from a stack of papers.
She supposed he was handsome, with his brown hair graying slightly at the temples and his sharp blue eyes, but since he was nearly twenty years older than her, she’d never even thought of him in that way. She respected him with every fiber of her being. Not only for getting her out of a dead-end life back at Jaguar’s in Buckeye, Arizona, but because of how fair and respectful he acted toward all the people who worked at Omega.
But he was tired. Andrea could tell. “You need a vacation, boss. Some time away from this circus.”
Steve put his elbows on his desk and bridged his fingers together, grimacing just the slightest bit. “You know why I don’t invite you in here very often? Because you see too much.” But his words held no fire. He knew what she said was right.
Andrea nodded.
“Sit down, Andrea. I’m afraid what I have to say might be a little difficult to hear.”
Oh my God, he is going to fire me.
Andrea took a breath through her nose and tried not to let her panic show. She had known this was a possibility from the beginning. Not just a possibility, a probability.
She tried to mentally regroup. Okay, she wasn’t the same girl who had left with Steve and Grace from Buckeye. She had managed to successfully complete her high school equivalency degree and even had two years of college under her belt. Yes, her dyslexia made some classes difficult, and she had to take them at a slower pace than most people, but she was making progress.
She could get some other job now. She had money in savings. She didn’t have to go back to Jaguar’s and let those people paw at her again.
“Andrea.”
Steve’s tone made her realize it wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. She finally forced herself to focus on what he was saying.
“I don’t need to have your gift to see that you’re panicking. What the hell is going on in that brain of yours?” She could feel waves of concern flowing from him, and it was easily readable on his face.
She rubbed her skirt again. “Steve, I understand if you need to let me go. I’ve always known that was a possibility—”
“Andrea, I’m not firing you.”
“But you said this may be difficult.”
“And it probably will be, but why don’t you let me finish before you jump to conclusions.”
Now Andrea felt the reprimand. She sank back a little in her chair. “Yes, sir.”
“I need you for a case.”
He really wasn’t firing her. “Okay.”
“It involves a serial killer. He’s been striking in the Phoenix area, with the last woman found dead just outside of Buckeye.”
Her hometown. Now his concern made sense.
“And you want me to go there.” It wasn’t a question.
“I think your ability as a behavioral analyst, plus your knowledge of and history with the area, makes you one of our best chances of stopping this guy as quickly as possible.”
She was glad she wasn’t being fired, but Steve was right—this was hard. She didn’t want to go back to Buckeye. When she’d left there that night with Steve and Grace, she’d never returned. She’d gone back inside Jaguar’s to collect her personal belongings and her tips and had told Harry she wasn’t coming back.
She’d been glad to have Grace, obviously a cop and obviously carrying a weapon, standing behind her as she did it, because she didn’t think Harry would’ve taken it so well otherwise. As it was, his face had turned a molten red, small eyes narrowed even further. But he hadn’t stopped her.
She’d never really explained it all to Steve, but Jaguar’s was really just the tip of her iceberg of bad memories when it came to Buckeye. The situation she’d lived through the years before she’d run away from her aunt and uncle’s home had been much worse. She still bore a few scars to prove that.
“I know this is hard for you.” Steve was studying her carefully from behind his desk.
“Buckeye is not somewhere I’d choose to visit.” The understatement of the century.
Steve came around to sit on his desk, closer to her. “Andrea, you’re not the same person Grace and I met in Buckeye four years ago. You’re stronger, more confident, able to handle the stress of this job, which isn’t a light matter.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I know you feel like you don’t have the same educational background or experience of most of the people actively working cases at Omega. But you have a natural talent at reading people that continues to be honed.”
“But—”
Steve wasn’t really interested in her