Federal Affair

Chapter 17

I sat there in shock. What the hell was going on? Nick wasn't who I thought he was? I silently wished that whatever was happening was simply some stupid misunderstanding fueled by Monica's tendency to jump to conclusions. The last thing I needed right now was another layer of stress piled on.

Monica crouched to sit in front of me on the rug. Her dark brown pantsuit almost matched the color of my couch. I braced myself for awful news, imagining Derek and Nick duking it out at work. I could feel my heart rate picking up.

"I was sitting in my car at the auto parts store, waiting on new wiper blades," she began. "I happened to look across the street and I saw Nick getting out of his car at the gas station."

My frown deepened until my forehead started aching. "Okay...?" Where the hell was she going with this?

"He was on the phone and it looked like he was arguing with someone." She started talking really fast. Whatever she was about to say had her anxiety on full throttle. "He got a jacket out of his backseat and started putting it on. When I saw the back of it, I just about shit myself! It said FBI! Do you know what this means, Carrie? He's a fucking federal agent!"

Monica jumped up from her spot on the floor, smoothing out her hair and taking deep breaths to calm herself. If I hadn't already known about Nick's secret, I would've probably been freaking out alongside her. I stayed motionless on the couch, however, waiting for her to sit back down.

She looked at me funny. "Carrie, did you hear what I just said? Nick's-"

"An FBI agent," I nodded. "I know."

Her expression was incredulous. "What do you mean you know?"

I thought back to the morning I'd discovered his jacket draped over the couch. The same morning I'd realized the FBI was keeping an eye on Derek. I still needed to get ahold of that file. Surely that would answer a lot of my questions.

"I know," I said in a duh tone.

"You knew he was with the FBI and you didn't tell me?" She looked bewildered.

I patted the cushion beside me for her to sit down. I couldn't believe I was about to divulge this information to her. I knew it was basically illegal for me to tell her details involving the feds that I wasn't even supposed to know about.

I groaned, raking a hand through my bangs and pushing my hair back. "I found his jacket and wallet with his ID the other night while he was asleep. He doesn't know I know. He hasn't tried to tell me. I'm sure he doesn't even want to tell me," I said honestly.

He probably had every intention of finishing whatever he was sent to Chicago to do and getting the hell out of town just as fast as he'd arrived.

"Why didn't you say something?" Monica asked. "Why didn't you ask him about it?"

"I just decided it was better if I didn't."

She nodded, having finally calmed down. I took advantage of the silence that engulfed us to contemplate telling her about the investigation, if in fact that's what it was. Venting to my best friend always helped me power through whatever was weighing on my mind. I decided to go ahead. How much more shocked could she possibly get at this point?

"There's more to it," I broke the silence. "I went snooping in his home office and found a file marked Derek Hampton."

"What?" she gasped.

"I think he'd investigating Derek. I didn't get a chance to look through it though because he woke up and came to find me. I barely shut the drawer before he walked in," I explained, resting my chin on my fist in an unflattering hunched over position.

Monica's body language had taken a one-eighty. She was intrigued. "You need to get that folder," she said, sounding like our boss ordering us around.

I nodded. "That's what I'm trying to figure out how the hell to do."

I decided I'd spend the night at Nick's house again and give snooping another try while he slept. If I carried out the mission perfectly, I'd have enough time to skim through the folder and get back to bed before he realized I was missing.

Monica and I spent the next two hours watching a Hallmark movie and eating gummy fruit snacks. She went home around nine, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I laid on the couch debating whether or not to call it a night and head to bed. My head was spinning, thinking about Nick, the FBI, Derek, and Monica. I wanted a break from reality. I needed a tropical vacation and a margarita. If only it was rational to disappear to the Caribbean for a week.

My phone rang, startling me so much that I fell off the couch. The caller was Nick.

"Hello?"

"Hi," came Nick's voice, cheery and relaxed. "I just got done with some after work-work and I was wondering if you were busy. I thought maybe we could do something, if you want to."

I listened to what sounded like him rifling through papers and I wondered if he'd been adding to Derek's file. Maybe his after work-work was FBI stuff. Now was a good opportunity to see about going to his house and possibly getting a good look at that folder later in the night.

"Could we hang out at your house?" I hoped that didn't sound too forward or suspicious.

"Sure," he answered with the sound of a door closing behind him. "I can pick you up in-"

"I'll drive over," I cut him off. "I have things to do tomorrow. It would be easier if I had my car with me."

I didn't have anything to do the next day but if he caught me going through his filing cabinet, I could leave in a hurry, versus being stranded with him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It's no trouble to drop you off in the morning."

"I'm sure. I'll be by soon."

I hung up, going to the kitchen for a refreshing glass of water. I had the urge to splash cold water on my face. Seconds later I headed outside, wishing I'd grabbed a jacket when the chilly night air swept over me.

I turned onto the main road from my neighborhood. It was an exceptionally dark night. The moon was nowhere to be seen and the street lights never seemed bright enough. At almost ten o'clock, there was still a fair amount of traffic and I drove for about thirty minutes until I reached Nick's street. Every house in his neighborhood had their garage lights on. I pulled into the driveway, parking beside his Audi that shined in the dim light like it had just received a fresh wash and wax.

A dark figure stepped out from the shadows, startling me. I jumped in my seat, dropping my phone on the floorboard. I was relieved when I realized it was Nick standing by the crape myrtle in the flowerbed. His porch light wasn't on, making it difficult to recognize him.

I released a heavy sigh, feeling my pulse start to relax again as I reached down to retrieve my phone.

"I guess you weren't expecting a one-person welcoming committee," Nick chuckled, strolling up to my door.

I rolled my eyes. "You're trying to scare me to death."

"Not to death," he grinned. "Just into a coma."

I smacked his arm with my keys, closing the door behind me. "Asshole."

"I'm offended!" His smile grew wider and he snaked his arm around my waist, walking me to the front door.

I felt good. For the short time we were outside, I'd completely forgotten about the real reason I'd come over. I'd forgotten about the file and the FBI and the whole thing altogether. Nick's smile, laugh, the sweet tone of his voice... It was my aesthetic.