Free The Target by L.J. Sellers Page A

nice.”
    “Perfect. Let’s meet across the street at Saber’s at five-thirty. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to take care of.”
    “Of course.” Dallas walked away, pleased with the opportunity to get Grissom drunk and probe him. Maybe steal his cell phone. She was grateful they hadn’t questioned her role in the incident. Nor had they seemed surprised by the espionage. This was an intense industry, and the idea that Palmer had been killed to silence him seemed more likely than ever. She would have to be careful.

Chapter 10
    Friday, July 11, 5:26 a.m.
    River woke and turned to look out her window, expecting to see her lush backyard and overgrown vegetable garden. Instead, an adobe wall filled her view.
Oh right.
She was sleeping in a rented apartment in San Diego, working a corporate-sabotage investigation, with an undercover agent depending on her for backup. How had she let herself get sucked into this? She was supposed to be in Eugene, Oregon, handling low-profile cases and adjusting to her new life.
    Ache seeped into her chest, and she forced herself to get up. But it wasn’t the ranch-style house or the Eugene bureau she missed. Jared, the man who’d come to remodel her house and ended up as her roommate, was all she could think about in her free time. River felt at peace knowing he was there, watering the corn and resurfacing the kitchen cabinets, but she missed the smell of his morning coffee and bacon. She missed laughing with him over the often-silly local news. So far, they were only friends and roommates, but she wanted more. He’d stirred up a long-repressed sexuality that both excited and terrified her. Jared had no idea she’d been a man for most of her life, and River had no idea how to tell him.
    She padded into the kitchen and heated water to make tea. If she were at home, she would practice yoga, then go out for a brisk walk, but she had too much to do for the BioTech case, as they’d named it.
    River opened her laptop and wrote an email to Jared, but didn’t send it. She made a cup of tea and took it out on the balcony to watch the sunrise. She loved being outside this early without a jacket. A childhood memory of sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night made her smile. She’d been so innocent then. Before she realized she had the wrong body. Before the FBI invaded their home and dug up the dead women in the basement. River let it go. Thinking about her father, the serial killer, was self-destructive. She laughed at herself. Better to pine for a man she would probably never be intimate with.
    A faint sound caught her attention. Her phone? River hurried inside to check. Law enforcement never had the luxury of ignoring a call. Her work cell showed a missed call from a local number. She listened to the message: “Special Agent Richard King. The BioTech task force is meeting this morning at nine, and you need to be there. The CDC has some concerns about Palmer’s blood and tissue samples.”
    The Centers for Disease Control? What the hell had Joe Palmer died of? Wide awake now, River kicked up her speed. She modified her email to Jared to make it less sentimental, hit Send, and headed for the shower. Afterward, she dressed in dark slacks and a jacket, the same basic clothes she’d worn all her years as Carl River. Only now, she was thirty pounds lighter and would sometimes wear burgundy or brown instead of black. She ate a bagel, tucked her Glock into her shoulder harness, and headed east.
    The conference room in the San Diego bureau was three times the size of the one in Eugene and had a nice view from the fourth floor. Neither made her glad to be there. Gratitude for Joe and Jana Palmer, who’d saved her life and given her purpose, was all that made her take a seat, surrounded by stiff-shouldered men who didn’t look happy to see her. Agent King, at the end of the table, nodded as she entered. No one else greeted her. Was it because she was an out-of-town agent