Okay, so it was a little early by intelligence standards. After all, big and bad tended to favor the middle of the night over eight o’clock on a Monday morning. But she still had a metric ton of case details to catch up on from the day and a half she’d missed, an update to grab from the crime scene techs who were processing her apartment, security footage to review, reports from the fire marshal to check on, and damn, she needed to find a cup of— “Chamomile?” Hollister asked, lifting a to-go cup with a tea tag dangling over the edge from the blotter on his desk. Isabella blinked past all the whoa bouncing around in her chest. “What are you doing here?” she asked, hearing the sheer gracelessness of the question only after it had crossed her lips. But her partner just broke into a knowing grin. “Good morning to you, too.” He crossed the otherwise empty office space, trading the cup of tea for half the files in her grasp. “Sorry.
