Disavowed(42)

Briar’s stomach pitched at the thought.

“Any other evidence that might give us a starting point?” Matt asked, though he knew as well as she did that this had been a professional hit. Slick and ballsy, right out in the open. Definitely a trained operative. Probably CIA contracted, to ensure the op was off the books. Easier to hide that way.

Whoever had ordered it had considerable power. That narrowed the field of possible suspects considerably, but even she didn’t have a list of names or faces to go on.

What Briar wouldn’t give to review the security footage from the airport and help bring everyone involved to justice. She couldn’t do that or risk reaching out to any of her contacts if she was supposed to be dead, but maybe Matt could help her. He’d said he believed her, was still helping her even though he was no longer obligated to and might even be risking his career in doing so. He would know people who could help find the answers she needed.

“People from the local field office were already here this afternoon to go over everything,” the ME said. “A whole team’s coming with the pathologists in the morning. Who was she, anyway?”

Was.

The word reverberated through Briar’s skull. Because Janaia was gone forever.

She hitched in a breath as a sob strangled her. She covered it with a cough and dug deep for her resolve, fighting for control. But she felt like a pressure cooker inside, ready to explode. The walls of the room seemed to close in on her, the smell of the antiseptic and formaldehyde sickening.

Breathe. Calm down. You have to maintain your cover. She caught Matt watching her from the corner of her eye and knew he was worried about her.

At least he didn’t have to worry about her blowing their cover. She forced her shoulders back and regrouped, mentally compartmentalizing Janaia’s death. There would be plenty of time to think about it later.

“Can you give us a minute?” Matt said to the ME.

“Sure—”

“No,” Briar managed, her voice hoarse. Leaving the room now or asking to be left alone would tip the man off that something was wrong and increase the chance that he would remember her. They couldn’t afford that.

The weight in her chest had coalesced into a searing ball of pain. She exhaled, forced it down deep as she faced Matt. “Get whatever else you need. I can wait.”

He gave her a single, searching look then focused back on the ME. Folding his arms, he studied the other man for a long moment, until the ME began to feel uncomfortable and averted his gaze, shifting his feet. “As you know, this investigation is classified. We need to discuss some things privately. If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside, the officer will provide security while we talk.” It wasn’t really a request.

Matt cut her a sidelong glance and ushered the clearly interested ME to the door. When the man was outside in the hall with the security guard, Matt shut the door after himself and Briar stepped closer to Janaia.

She stared down into her friend’s face for a full minute, aware of Matt and Georgia standing behind her, watching her. She tried to see past the blue tinge around the eyes and lips and the red staining that signified how Janaia had been murdered. What would Barry and the kids do without her? It would be hell for them, finding out Janaia had been murdered this way. Worse, Barry would have to hear it from the Feds because as much as Briar wanted to be the one to break the news, she couldn’t. She had to be long gone before the agents showed up tomorrow.

Unable to touch Janaia or zip up the bag without leaving fingerprints, she had to make due with staring into that still face. Tears could come later, when she was alone and out of danger of being discovered. For now, a promise was the best she could do.

I’m so sorry, J. I’ll miss you like crazy, but if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find out whoever did this and make sure they pay.

Pulling in a deep, shuddering breath, Briar made herself turn and walk away from the drawer, giving herself a mental kick as she crossed to the others. Game face. Get it together. She could grieve later, once she’d found justice for her friend.

“You ready?” she asked in a brisk voice that belied her emotional turmoil.

Matt’s gaze didn’t move from her face. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Me too,” Georgia said, sympathy in her eyes.

Briar nodded, set her jaw. She didn’t want their sympathy, she wanted to find Janaia’s killer and whoever else was behind this.

That too, would have to wait. Right now they needed to get the forensic evidence Georgia had promised her handler, in the form of blood samples and the staged pictures they’d taken of Briar lying dead in the snow back at the safe house. “So let’s do this.”