“You make plastic containers. What’s dangerous about plastic? Sure, you store chemicals in high quantity, but he’d be able to get those in other places—places run by men who don’t have your reputation for high moral standards. I can’t figure out the connection between what you do at HPI and what he could be planning. But after last night, I’m certain of one thing.”
“What?”
“He believes you are standing in his way.”
Blake stood and paced around the small living room. He’d taken this far better than she’d expected. He hadn’t thrown anything. He hadn’t asked her to leave. He hadn’t refused to believe her. His mind had to be in turmoil, but he didn’t appear rattled. If anything, he looked like a man who was formulating a plan of action.
No. Not what she’d expected at all.
He turned to her. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?”
“Yes. I’m starving. How do you feel about pizza?”
“My feelings are generally favorable toward anything that involves cheese.”
A true smile flickered across his face and Heidi looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. Dark hair with a hint of curl. Dark brown eyes. Strong chin. He reminded her of the brooding movie stars of the ’40s. Until he smiled. His smile did something funny to her, but she didn’t have the time or inclination to explore the emotion.
He pondered the phone in his hand. “Is it safe for me to have a pizza delivered?”
She could tell he was trying to keep things light, even as he processed the seriousness of the situation. “It should be, but to be sure, you can use my phone.”
He took her phone and dialed the number from memory. “What do you like?”
“Meat. The more the better.”
He widened his eyes at her. “I’d have taken you for a vegetarian.”
“I’d starve.”
He placed the order and returned her phone before settling back into his chair. He grimaced as he sat. He had to be hurting.
He pulled in a deep breath and winced again. He could use the accident as a cop-out. He could tell her he didn’t feel well and needed to get some rest. Most people would.
Not Blake Harrison. “I want to talk more about this situation, but first, I need to know more about you.”
Heidi wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but it was a fair question. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Who are you?” Frustration oozed from his words. She needed to remember he’d had less than thirty minutes to come to terms with some life-altering news.
“My name is Heidi Zimmerman. I’m an FBI agent and for the past ten years, the Kovac family has been my primary assignment.”
“Ten years? How old are you?”
“It’s none of your business, but I’m thirty-two. I joined the Bureau straight out of college. Virginia Tech. I have a degree in mechanical engineering and a minor in accounting.”
“Interesting combination.”
“The Kovacs own several manufacturing enterprises. I’ve gone undercover as an engineer more than once.”
“How’d you wind up with the FBI?”
Heidi gave him the answer she gave to anyone who asked. “I was always interested in law enforcement. Seemed exciting and fulfilling. So I went for it.”
Blake studied her, then shook his head. “I’ve believed pretty much everything you’ve said, but I don’t think that’s the real reason.”
Heidi froze. How could he—?
“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. Spare me the slick story that could be an advertisement for the FBI recruiters to use. It doesn’t suit you.”
Heidi didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t expected Blake Harrison to be so perceptive. But the truth? The truth wasn’t something she shared. Ever. She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live to fight another day.
“I didn’t lie,” she said. Blake started to argue with her but she cut him off. “I grew up rough. There were a few police officers who made a huge impact on me. Then this FBI agent saved my life.” She’d skated into dangerous territory and decided to keep it vague. “By the time I graduated from high school, I had my heart set on joining the FBI, but with my background, I didn’t know if the FBI would take me. I chose college courses so I could work in something other than law enforcement if plan A didn’t pan out.”
She hadn’t come anywhere close to telling him the whole truth, but not one word of what she’d said was a lie. She gave him time to process her words.
“Why are you embarrassed about your childhood?” he finally asked.
How had he made that leap? And how annoying that he was right. “Look, not everyone has a Norman Rockwell upbringing. Mine isn’t something I talk about. When people ask, I give them the recruiting-poster version. It’s cleaner. And most people don’t like messy.”
He nodded. “That I believe. But you shouldn’t assume my life has been all sunshine and roses.”
No. She knew about that. She’d had background checks run on the entire Harrison family. Not because they were suspects, but more than one operation had gone south because an agent hadn’t done their homework.
The Harrisons had checked out. An American success story. Family-owned business, strong family, loyal employees.
Except for one.
Blake closed his eyes and shook his head. “You know about Lana, don’t you?”
She wouldn’t deny it.
“Do I even want to know how you know?”
“Background checks are a standard part of an operation like this.” His eyes flashed and Heidi pressed on. Might as well rip the bandage off in one quick pull. “As soon as Markos got the job, I ran background checks and financials on your entire family. Even pulled some reports on your grandparents, looking for any connection to the Kovacs, however slight. I didn’t find anything that raised any red flags.”
“Except Lana.”
“Her, um, mistakes, were a matter of public record. As was your divorce and her relinquishment of her parental rights while in prison.”
Blake fidgeted in his chair. Frustration? Embarrassment? Or trying to find a more comfortable position? Heidi couldn’t be sure.
Heidi’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She silenced it without looking. As a rule, she kept her phone out of sight when she was meeting with someone on official business. If she was going to ask them to trust her, they deserved to get her undivided attention.
The phone vibrated again. Two calls in ten seconds? It might be time to break her rule.
Blake waved his Mountain Dew toward her. “Seems like someone wants to talk to you. Go ahead.”
“Sorry about this.” She caught the call before it went to voice mail. “Zimmerman.”
“Are you still with Blake Harrison?”
Max? “Yes.”
“Stay with him.” Max’s tone left no doubt. Something bad had happened.
“What—”
“Hang on.”
Blake’s phone rang and his brow furrowed as he glanced at it. She waved a hand to encourage him to take it.
“Mom? Mom, slow down. What—”