Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [404]
CHAPTER 42
John F. Kennedy Federal Building
Boston, Massachusetts
Gwen Patterson watched Agent Tully wrestle their suitcases out of the taxi cab’s trunk while the driver stood beside him. He was directing Tully, just as he had when he picked them up at the airport in Boston, pointing with a gnarled right hand, his excuse for not lifting the cases himself. Tully didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he simply asked for a receipt while he dug in his trench coat’s pockets, pulling out a wad and separating dollar bills from other crumpled receipts and a couple of McDonald’s napkins.
Gwen waited, her patience wearing thin. She wanted to snap open her handbag and pay the fare herself. It would be quicker. It was bad enough she was wasting two days, volunteering her services to the bureau and to Kyle Cunningham. Why was it that her colleagues wrote books and garnered interviews with Matt Laurer and Katie Couric? She wrote a book and what did she get? An interview with an adolescent killer.
She reached for her overnight case, but Tully snatched it away.
“No, I’ve got it,” he insisted, tucking it under his arm while he wrapped the strap of her laptop computer’s case around his other shoulder and grabbed his duffel bag.
Rather than argue with him, she led the way up the steps, letting him pass her at the last stretch so he could shuffle the bags and still open the heavy door. She wondered if he was overcompensating after Maggie had pointed out that perhaps the two of them couldn’t do this trip without being at each other’s throats the entire time. Whatever his reason for all the chivalry, Tully had been nothing but polite since they boarded their flight for Boston.
Maggie had assured Gwen time and again that Tully was one of the good guys, a smart, decent agent who wanted to do the right thing. Maggie always added that he was simply a little green, having spent much of his short time with the bureau behind a desk in Cleveland. But that his instincts and his motives were genuine. Yet, there was still something about the tall, lanky agent that rubbed Gwen the wrong way.
What she did know was that his polite, Midwestern manner grated on her. Perhaps he seemed too good to be real. Too honest. Too much of a Boy Scout. The kind of guy who would never drive over the speed limit or have one too many drinks. The kind of guy who went out of his way to open doors for women, but couldn’t remember to keep his dollar bills in a money clip or take time to shine his shoes. Maybe that was why she insisted on ruffling his feathers, pushing his buttons. Maybe she wanted to expose that calm, polite, naive Boy Scout’s facade, rip it just a bit and see what was underneath, discover what he was really made of. Had too many years as a psychologist made her cynical?
“Dr. Patterson?”
Gwen and Tully stopped and looked up at the man leaning over the second-floor railing. When he realized he was right, he bounded down the stairs with an athletic gait. Gwen knew immediately, before any introductions, that this had to be Nick Morrelli, the man who managed to make Maggie O’Dell blush at just a mention of his name. And now Gwen could understand why. He was more handsome than Maggie’s description, the epitome of the cliché tall, dark and handsome, with a strong square jaw, warm blue eyes and dimples when he smiled.
“You must be Nick Morrelli,” she said, offering her hand as he got to the bottom of the steps. “I’m Gwen Patterson.”
“And I’m Agent R.J. Tully.” Tully had to reshuffle the bags to free a hand, nearly dropping her overnight case in the process.
“Here, let me take one of those,” Nick said, helping Tully peel the laptop case’s strap from his shoulder. “District Attorney Richardson is still in court, so you’re stuck with me. I’ll take you