too shrewd to waste time playing cat-and-mouse games. If he has somehow discovered we work for Sentinels and he believes we pose a threat to him, he’d simply order a no nonsense hit and have us eliminated.”
“Maybe . . .” he hedged.
“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it. We’re talking about a man who has eluded the grasp of every major law enforcement organization in the country. None of them have been able to prove he’s shady. Lauren and Luke are still guarding Rafe and Brianna because we don’t have enough evidence to substantiate whether Mendacci is behind the attacks that were made on them so we can put him behind bars. I’m sure the man’s not concerned about a small covert protection agency succeeding where every other government bureau has failed. So why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”
He met her unwavering gaze with one just as determined. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s my mess, not yours. I don’t want you caught up in it.”
“This has something to do with the case you were working on before you left the CIA, doesn’t it?”
“Just drop it, Steph. I don’t want you involved in this.”
“You keep forgetting—I’m trained to be caught up in sticky situations. I don’t need your protection, Frank.”
“That’s tough, because you’re stuck with it. I’ve already lost someone close to me to this crusade. I’m not about to let you be the next victim.”
“Earlier, you told me you were disappointed I didn’t trust you enough to confide in you. Now I know what that feels like.”
“I’m keeping you in the dark for your own good.”
“I just want to help you,” she persisted. “Please?”
He tossed his hands up in surrender. “Okay. But what I’m going to confide has to stay between us. You can’t tell Liz or anyone else. And don’t confuse my filling you in with my looping you into the investigation. I’m serious about not wanting you involved in this.”
“I get that. Let’s go inside. I’ll brew a pot of coffee and you can bring me up to speed on your extracurricular investigative activities and why they’re causing such a stir.”
Chapter Nine
Sitting in Stephanie’s living room with the rich aroma of coffee wafting from a steaming mug in his hand, Frank waited for his friend to begin volleying questions at him. He didn’t have to wait long for the interrogation to begin.
“The guy who followed us on the beach tonight has a vested interest in the case the CIA ordered you to drop, doesn’t he?” she asked before she’d even taken a sip from her cup.
“I can’t tell you that’s not a possibility,” he conceded. “I’ve been doing a little digging around, and the fact that my inquiries have attracted some attention tells me I may have succeeded in poking the hornet’s nest.”
“I can’t understand why you continued to look into the case when the CIA clearly didn’t want you to pursue it. It seems to me your interest is more than professional. This is personal, isn’t it?”
He nodded, unable to refute her. It didn’t get more personal than tracking down the identity of the man who’d shot his partner. And beyond that, it was personal for both of them, although Stephanie didn’t know it. If his theory was right, her father was not a relapsed gambling addict or a killer, but a hero who’d lost his life while working to stop drug dealers and sex traffickers.
As for Frank’s own father—well, the man was just as sinister as Lawrence Mendacci himself.
But he couldn’t go there with her now. Not until he’d confirmed his suspicions.
He raised his eyes, meeting her questioning gaze. “That hornet’s nest I poked? We aren’t talking about the ordinary, garden-variety hornet. We’re talking about a super nasty hybrid, the kind that doesn’t think twice about killing innocent people. My partner, Pamela, was one of their victims.”
“Oh, Frank. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“Pamela and I were working