Guardian Protocol (Cyrus Jennings FBI Mystery Thriller Book 4) by Alex Parman

Author:Alex Parman [Parman, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Cyrus set his hand on Marsha’s leg and squeezed while he worked the remote in the other. When she set hers atop his, he found himself smiling, realizing Misty’s jokes about his domestication hadn’t been far from the mark.

He’d take it.

But when he pressed the play button to get the movie rolling, Misty’s face was still plastered to his mind’s eye. Somehow, watching Sixteen Candles with Marsha made him feel unfaithful. Eighties movies had been Misty’s and his thing.

On screen, the Baker family’s morning chaos erupted to life, the group milling at the bottom of the stairs, Samantha Baker’s younger brother calling up to her.

Hey, birth defect!

Marsha chuckled.

“How have you never seen this movie?” Cyrus asked. But his mind was split.

He reached for his cell, checked the screen for missed calls, then dropped it back onto the sofa cushion.

“Still nothing from your protégé, huh?”

“No.”

“Why haven’t you called her?”

One side of Cyrus’s mouth twisted up.

Marsha reached across him for the remote and paused the film just as Molly Ringwald descended the stairs.

“It’s bureau stuff. Misty’s… not in the open right now. I don’t want to compromise her.”

Marsha twisted on her cushion. “Are you saying Misty is undercover?” Her mouth gaped. “I didn’t think she did that kind of thing.” She slapped his leg. “Cyrus! No wonder you’ve been pouting around here like a…”

His cell buzzed. Cyrus snatched it up and read the screen. With a sigh, he answered.

“Boss man.”

“Cyrus. Just wanted to touch base. Misty found something. You should reach out. She’s probably left LPS by now. I told her to report to you going forward. I’m heading out for a late dinner with my wife. Stop acting like children.”

He hung up then peered at Marsha’s slanted smile.

“Guess he told you. I’ll give you some space. Call her.”

She was out of the room in seconds, and Cyrus heard the gentle catch of the bedroom door’s latch a moment later.

Drawing the phone up before he could think about it, he dialed Misty.

It rang six times then went to voice mail. His lip twitched. He tried again. Then again. Nothing. He brought up the texting applet.

Time to get the gang back together. Call me when you’re in the clear.

He paused, checked the time. They’d fallen out before, had little tiffs here and there. But the first time she hadn’t picked up had been when he went to Texas. Misty always answered or sent a text. He read the unfinished message then added:

Or just shoot me a text to let me know you’re okay.

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