CHAPTER ELEVEN
As it turned out, Nelson had been wrong about the FBI. Mackenzie got the call at 6:35 in the morning requesting that she drive to the airport to pick up an agent that had flown in. She’d had to hurry, as the flight arrived at 8:05, and was embarrassed that she’d have to make a first impression without even having time to fix her hair.
Her hair, though, was the least of her concerns as she sat in the uncomfortable airport chair, waiting at the gate. She was pounding down a cup of coffee, hoping to push her mind beyond caring that her body had only managed five hours of sleep the night before. It was her third cup of the morning and she knew she’d get the jitters if she didn’t slow down. But she couldn’t afford to be tired and sloppy.
She reviewed everything in her head as
