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Finally, she responded in a tight voice.
    "We all have our crosses to bear, Tremont. I have my reasons, but they have nothing to do with proving myself or advancing my career. I can't be bought, and I'm not motivated by greed or glory, so that's all you need to know."
    He cursed the fact that her passionate response only served to make him more curious.
    "How about a change of subject," he suggested.
    "Okay by me," said Rianna. "Why don't you tell me about yourself. Where's home for you now? That's not classified information, is it?"
    "Far from it." He remembered how well-informed Sullivan had seemed about his current lifestyle. "I live in
Texas
, not too far from El Paso ."
    The small bit of casually supplied personal information caused a slight relaxing of her rigid posture. Her shoulders sagged a little, and he wondered how she was handling the unrelenting stress.
    "I've always been curious about
Texas
but I've never been there," she said, then asked tentatively, "Is that where you grew up?"
    "I grew up everywhere, I was a military brat."
    The urge to see her at ease had him offering details about his private life. "Both my folks were Air Force officers. We moved around a lot, but I spent my early years and most of my summer vacations with Granddad Tremont in
Texas
. He was a craftsman. I inherited his knack for working with wood, and his home. I moved back there when I retired from Uncle Sam's employ."
    His granddad had also been a decorated Second World War veteran. From the time Kyle was old enough to listen, he'd heard tales of the war, the cost of freedom, and a man's duty to serve his country. They'd watched old movies and cheered when justice triumphed over evil. He'd hung on every word of his granddad's lectures, vowing to live by the same high principles. He'd taken it all to heart—but it had nearly cost him his soul.
    "Did your parents retire to
Texas
, too?" she asked.
    Her tone sounded wistful, and he studied her profile. What did her family think of her career? Maybe she didn't have anyone. That might explain why she'd been willing to risk her life for a job.
    "Dad died about four years ago, and Mom remarried. She and her new husband are stationed in Germany right now."
    "Sounds like she's really dedicated to the service."
    "Yep, that's how I was raised. Everything's right or wrong, black or white, with no in-betweens. That's why I got fed up with the FBI."
    "Too many shades of gray?" she asked in a tone that suggested she really understood.
    "Yeah, way too much gray."
    They were quiet for a few miles, each lost in thought, and then she spoke again. "Donald said you left because you lost a partner and blamed the agency. Is that true?"
    Kyle stared out the window, watching the scenery flash past as his memories fixed on Margie. She'd been more than a partner. So much more. Impotent rage still churned in him when he dwelled on the unfairness of her death.
    "Margie went undercover while I was on leave for Dad's funeral. She went in alone, but with standard backup from the agency. She understood the risks."
    Logically, Kyle knew he might not have been able to save Margie, but emotionally, he still felt responsible for not being there for his lover and friend. After years of trying, he'd finally realized he couldn't be content until the man responsible for her death was brought to justice.
    Rianna broached her next question softly and cautiously. "The records suggest that she might have turned bad."
    "That's a filthy lie!" Kyle snarled, making her jump and go tense again.
    He tempered his next words, but they still quivered with underlying fury. "That's what pisses me off the most. An agent gives her life for her country, and what does she get in return? A damn blight on her record? Rumors that she was on the take? That's why I hate the freakin ' politics. The FBI lost an agent, so they try to save face by suggesting she's the one at fault!"
    A thick silence fell in the car, but the unbridled strength of his