Lover Beware

couldn’t tell you why they’re sending in this particular agent.”
    Detective Armstrong, sitting beside Donovan, gave an amused grunt and smirked. “Wonder if he’ll bring along his tarot cards and crystal ball.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jerry asked.
    “C’mon, Costos. We all know these guys come to the table with little to nothin’. They look at evidence and proffer an opinion which is generally a bunch of bunk. Nothin’ more than what we can provide.”
    He couldn’t argue the fact, but with the governor breathing down his neck, he’d had little choice in the matter. But if he’d known the BSU Special Division was going to send Anna, he might have given it a second thought. Just how the hell was he going to work with her, considering their past, and considering the flood of old feelings he’d felt for her the day before?
    He heard the elevator door open. Molly, his receptionist, said, “Ms. Travelli? They’re waiting for you. Go right in.”
    Jerry moved behind his desk.
    Anna appeared at the door. All business. Her gaze briefly touching his before moving to the others, who stared at her in apparent shock that the profiler was female—not just any female…but Anna Travelli. She had butted heads with Killroy and Donovan in the past, during her stint in the New Orleans Field Office.
    “Gentlemen,” she said in that slightly husky tone that made Jerry’s stomach clench. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
    Jerry cleared his throat. “Not at all. You’re right on time. As usual.”
    Her gaze flashed back to his, and for a brief moment the shared memories of their past collided between them like two freight trains.
    Jerry moved around the desk. “Anna, I believe you know Captain Killroy and Detective Donovan. This is Donovan’s partner, Detective Armstrong.”
    The men stood, their shock over seeing Anna more than obvious on their faces. Costos was well aware of their thoughts. Not only were they forced to deal with an FBI profiler butting in on their business, but a woman profiler—and one whose pretty face had been blasted over television screens from one end of the country to the other: Forensic Files, The New Detectives, Dateline.
    Anna shook their hands in turn, her thin smile an indication of her opinion of their thoughts. Jerry knew that smile. It was enough to make the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
    She moved to the conference table at the far side of his office. “Time to get down to work, gentlemen. I assume you’ve brought all the necessary files.”
    The detectives looked at one another, then at Jerry. Donovan grunted and shook his head. Killroy mumbled something foul, and Armstrong smirked and made a crude motion with his hand that made Jerry contemplate putting his fist into the man’s teeth.
    As the men trailed to the conference table where Anna had taken a chair, Jerry said, “Can I get you some coffee, Anna? A Danish?”
    “No Danish, thank you. But the coffee would be nice.”
    She then turned to Donovan. Their gazes locked and the tension in the room turned thick. Donovan was a damn good cop—one of the best—but he had a hump on as big as New Orleans over the FBI’s intrusion into his cases. Not that he treated her with disrespect—he wasn’t the type, unlike Armstrong, who apparently had a hard-on for her breasts. Donovan was likable. With the kind of good looks that were enough to stop traffic: dark hair and vibrant blue eyes; six foot two inches with bone structure that made a woman weak at the knees. But he was all cop. Machismo out the ears. He lived and breathed for his job and women were an afterthought.
    “I’d like to see the case file on last night’s homicide…” she prompted him.
    He stared at her a moment longer before clearing his throat and responding. “The victim’s name: Bobbie Cox.” He handed the manila folder into her waiting hand. “Young girl. New to the warehouse district. We’re still waiting on the M.E.’s autopsy report. Should be here at any time.”
    “Did anyone try to reach this girl’s family?”
    Killroy had placed himself diagonal to her at the opposite end of the table. “We’re working on it now.”
    “Who identified the body?” She flipped open the folder.
    “A friend, Susie Lynch, found her and called 911,” Donovan responded.
    Anna scanned Donovan’s report of what he saw when he arrived at the crime scene. “You’ve indicated that the crime scene boys came up with nothing.