She froze the second his palm cupped her cheek and his other hand gripped her hip. He was staring down into her eyes, her chest was moving up and down slowly, and she realized that her breasts looked huge in the tank top. He held her gaze.
“When are you going to stop fighting us and let us help you?”
She thought about that a moment. They seemed like good men, trustworthy men, but how could she be sure? She couldn’t.
“I can’t,” she whispered, hearing the defeat in her tone. Then she felt the hand on her shoulder from behind. It was Lincoln.
“You can. The more we know, the better we can protect you.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Not now. Not after the first protection operation nearly killed me. I’m sorry,” she said and then tried to pull away. Neither man allowed it. Calder stared at her.
“You were in protective custody and the team in charge failed you?” he asked. She swallowed hard. The stupid feds thought that two agents and a peephole in the hotel were enough to secure her until evidence was gathered and a case made.
“They were stupid. They underestimated the criminal.”
“What happened to the ones who were supposed to protect you?” Calder asked.
“They died,” she whispered, remembering the two agents who’d totally backcrossed the FBI. They were working for Dooley. The congressman had people everywhere. Could he even somehow get to these men?
“How did you survive? How did you get out of there?” Lincoln asked.
“The criminals underestimated the victim,” she said.
“Did the ones protecting you help to get you out alive before they were killed?” Calder asked. She chuckled softly.
“They were paid off by the criminal. I was as good as dead.” She lowered her eyes, recalling the feelings of defeat and distrust. Could she ever trust another person fully again? Was she even capable of it after all of this?
Calder ran his thumb back and forth over her skin as he held her face.
“We’re not going to let anything happen to you. The more we know, the better we can protect you.”
She shook her head.
“It’s only a matter of time. It’s not if, it’s when they come. I will be ready. I’m not going to die without a fight. I have nothing else to live for, but to see justice served.”
Chapter 4
“What the hell do you mean you have no idea where the hell she went? She’s a fucking woman. How could she escape your grasp and simply disappear? I’ve got dead bodies to hide, and another two fucking federal agents to add to the list of murders we’re connected to. I want that bitch dead,” Congressman Dooley yelled into the phone.
He was at his wit’s end. Somehow that undercover investigator had gotten away and right after he admitted to murdering other women. He should have grabbed that whore by her neck, did her like he did Tara, and then slit her fucking throat. One stinking bitch was not going to destroy his life, his family, and everything he’d worked so damn hard for.
“You know we’re trying, sir. There’s a lot to cover up. Too many loose ends, and too many witnesses at the casino, never mind the hotel where we were supposed to snag her. The woman is tough and she’s resourceful,” his head of security stated.
“Well, tell me something I don’t know. She’s smarter than you? Smarter than the team of government agents that are to protect my name, cover my ass, and let me get away with anything I want?”
“This situation has gotten out of control. Perhaps leaving her alone, and letting her think that you’ve given up will help us to catch her.”
“In the interim, I’ve got spies trying to infiltrate my company, the secret agents investigating my activities both on paper and in Nevada for the last ten years, and my reelection is in jeopardy. My wife isn’t talking to me. Reporters are trying to do their own investigations into my connection to the Vegas murders, while you and the rest of my team are trying to cut loose strings? I’ve got the local Nevada State Police applying pressure and asking questions and I don’t like the direction they’re going in. They’re going back in their records. They’re looking at the fuck up drug operation in the warehouse from two years ago. What the fuck? You need to handle this. Some fucking bitch is not taking me down. Make it go away. Find her, eliminate the problem and anyone else who may be helping her, and let’s wrap this up.”
He hung up the phone and stared out the window. “How the fuck did this get so bad, so quickly?”
His phone rang again. This time from his private disposable cell phone. It was how he handled all his illegal business connections. Glancing at the number, he knew that it was Martin McCue.
“Got any good news for me?”
“No. She’s gone under the radar. I’ve got people on the inside of the Nevada State Police. We’ve been trailing her commander, Frank Reynolds, and we’ve tapped his office lines as well as his home lines. All we came up with thus far is a call to an unsolicited number out in Texas. My resources can’t penetrate this number, however, yours may be able to.”
The congressman thought about it a moment. He was willing to do anything to wipe this shit from his life.