“I’ll get the car,” one said.
“Good, I’ll get the door for you. If we get this done quickly enough we should stop off at Murphy’s for a pint.”
“Damn that sounds like a good idea. Could really go for a cold one after tonight.”
Their voices disappeared in the same direction as the other men. This was her chance, likely her only chance for a while, to get out of there. Wiggling free of her hiding place Maggie made to go back the way she’d come in when she’d spotted the lights on in the warehouse. Her hope had been to find someone working there that might have had a landline phone given the crappy cell reception of the area.
But something made her pause. Biting her lip she cursed herself, and quickly ran on her toes over to the body. She nearly threw up in her mouth when she got a good, up close and personal look at the man, Jimmy. She didn’t have the time for that, she knew, and no way was she going to let those two goons know someone else was there. They’d come looking for her, and they didn’t look like the sort to give up easily.
Quickly, since she could hear them at the front of the building, she pulled out her cell phone. Crouching down near the body she snapped a photo of the man, then another. The sound of a car engine had her jumping back to her feet and running as fast as she could for the other door of the warehouse.
Only when she was several blocks away did she stop to finally break down. She’d just seen a man beaten and then killed. She had his photo on her phone. What the hell did she do now?
Chapter One
Stepping into the observation room off the interrogation room Douglas nodded to his partner. “What do we have?” he asked.
“Magdelaine Dubois, twenty-eight, and only child of Henrietta and Henri Dubois. One speeding ticket on her record but otherwise clean as a whistle. Formerly of New Orleans, she moved here about ten years ago for college. Works as a copy editor for one of the newspapers here in town. Single, lives alone in a house just outside of the city in one of those new subdivisions, mortgage is completely paid off. Owns her own car, has no pets, average,” Gary told him.
The dark haired beauty was definitely not average. She had shoulder length black hair, sleek and in a cut that said she took time to look after herself. While mussed from likely hours of running her fingers through it, the current appearance only led to inappropriate thoughts. With bright blue eyes that were red-rimmed, she was paler than the tan her skin held would normally make her. But stress did that to a person.
Glancing down at the folder Gary had passed over he read through some more information on her via her license, and background check. Not very tall he noted, only about five feet five inches. A quick glance showed some killer heels kicked off under the table, at least another four inches. Obviously was a little self-conscious of her height, or liked to wear a nice and slightly dangerous looking pair of shoes. He’d never understand how women could continually subject themselves to the torture.
He turned the page over and blinked at the raw photo there. “Holy shit, is that Jimmy Wheelman Draper?”
“Yup. Our girl here had some car trouble, and decided to try and find a landline. Where her car crapped out is in one of those damn dead zones for cell phones. She wandered into a partially lit warehouse, and was about to announce her presence when she saw what was going on. She snapped that right before she bolted. The locals pulled it off her phone, ran facial rec, and of course it flagged us.”
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. This woman was in seriously deep water if she saw who did that kind of damage, bullet hole in the middle of his forehead included, to Jimmy.
He spun for the door and headed into the interview room. He went straight for the table and empty chair as soon as he entered. “Ms. Dubois, I’m Special Agent Douglas Burrows, and this is my partner, Special Agent Gary Lowell. We’re with the FBI. I understand you’ve had quite the evening.”
Her pink lips curled up slightly as she nodded. “You could say that,” she said. She had the faintest of accents. Definitely a hint of French, but not quite Parisian smooth, so Douglas figured it was her Louisiana roots softly showing themselves.
He gave her the practiced sympathetic look as he took a seat. Behind and to his right Gary settled into the corner of the room with his hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed. “Unfortunately I’m going to make it a little longer, and then we will get you out of here as quickly as we can. Were you offered anything to drink? Coffee, tea, or some water maybe.”
Her tongue slid over her fuller lower lip as her bright blue eyes met his. He noticed they had a slight tilt to them, almost cat-like in appearance. “I’d really love some water if it’s not too much trouble?”
“I’ve got it,” Gary said. The door shut softly behind him.
Douglas set the file aside and leaned his forearms on the table. “Can you recount the evening for me, Ms. Dubois? From when you left work to when you arrived here at the station if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Maggie,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Please call me Maggie. I always feel like I should be looking around for my mother or grand-mère when I hear someone call me Ms. Dubois.”
“All right, Maggie,” he said. He wanted her at ease, and if using her nickname worked then he’d do it. “Please, start from the beginning, and keep talking until the end. I might interrupt with some questions, but I’ll try and keep them to a minimum until you are done.”
She gave a nod, pressing her hands flat to the table as she took a deep, slow breath. “I was on my way home from work this evening when I remembered I needed to drop some papers off to be signed with one of the editors. He’s been out sick the last couple of days with some bug his kids brought home. It was late, but I knew we had to have them signed for the next day so we could send them out with our afternoon couriers.”
Gary came back in to set a chilled bottle of water in front of her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
With a nod he returned to the corner.
“There was some construction I didn’t know about that pushed me further from my normal path to get to his home. My car started to make an odd sound as I was driving. I was looking for a gas station, but not knowing the area at all I had to search. Then it coughed, jolted, gave another cough, and that’s when I pulled to the side. When I put it into park it coughed again, and died. I tried to get it to start but to no avail.”
She paused to open the bottle and take a long drink. Douglas watched the slide of her throat as she swallowed, and barely kept himself from shifting in his seat. He’d never had such a visceral reaction to a woman like he was with her. He could actually feel his pulse in his cock as the flesh began to stiffen behind his zipper.
“I tried to call triple-A on my phone, but couldn’t get any reception. Apparently I’d found one of those non-existent dead zones the phone companies claim no longer exist.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile while she toyed with the bottle cap on the table before her. “I started to walk. I thought maybe someone would be working late and I could find a landline phone to borrow. I saw some lights on in a warehouse and was hopeful I’d found someone. The door was ajar so I went in. I called out, but didn’t get an answer. I could hear something, an engine I think, and some male voices.”
She stopped with a frown, her attention on the cap she was toying with. “Something had me holding my tongue as I went further into the building. I don’t know why I didn’t call out, but I didn’t. I came around a corner and saw a group of men. Two of them were struggling with a third. Again something held me back from calling out to them. Instead I hid behind some boxes. That’s when they forced the man down to his knees, and another man came forward to begin beating him with his fists.”Douglas waited as she took another deep breath.
“Another man stepped forward after a time, and he had a gun in his hand. He looked at the man on his knees and said, ‘You should never have betrayed me, Jimmy.’ The man on his knees said something that seemed to am
use the man with the gun, but I couldn’t hear what it was. His back was to me, and it sounded pretty muffled. The guy with the gun said, ‘Yeah, I figured you felt like that.’ Then he pulled the trigger. The men on either side let his arms go, and he fell to the floor.” She gave a shudder, her fingers gripping the plastic cap tight. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound,” she whispered.
Douglas gave in to the urge, and reached across the table to press his fingers to her wrist. When she looked up he waited as she blinked, coming back to the present.
“What happened next?” he prompted her. Her skin was chilled under his fingers, but soft, so damn soft.
Chapter Two
Maggie had to force herself to focus on his question. The feeling of his fingers, so warm and firm on her wrist, was a distraction. Licking her lips she blinked a couple of times in the hopes of getting back on track. It was hard when all she wanted to do was grab hold of his hand, and hold onto him. An odd reaction, one she couldn’t fully explain.
“Uh, the man passed off the gun, told the others to ensure he couldn’t be identified, and then asked for Benny to get Gio on the phone for him. Two different men called him Mr. Sorvino—that much I also remember. He left with seven of the men, and two stayed behind to do whatever it was they had planned. The two who remained were talking about getting a pint at Murphy’s once they were done. When they went to get a vehicle I ran out of my hiding spot. I should have kept going, but something once more made me stop. I went to the man, the body, and took a couple of pictures. Then I ran away, and kept on running until I couldn’t breathe. When I stopped I stood there trying to figure out what I should do. I managed to flag down a police car a few blocks further over, and when I told them a bit of what I’d seen they brought me here.”
Agent Burrows nodded, and gave her wrist a small squeeze as he smiled slightly. “Did anyone see you there, Maggie? Did anyone follow you when you ran?”
“No,” she said. His fingertips were a little rough, calloused more than a man with a desk job would likely have. A fleeting thought of how those hands might feel on other parts of her body had her breath hitching for a moment. “No one saw me, and I’m quite sure no one followed me out of there.”
“Good, that’s good.” Agent Burrows had a nice, deep voice, cultured, very East coast. Sandy brown hair was cut short on the back and sides but a little longer up front to show a bit of the curl he had. Darker eyebrows shadowed his storm cloud grey eyes. A straight nose gave way to good cheekbones, a firm and square jaw sprinkled with some stubble. He even had a dimple she’d gotten a glimpse of while he spoke. Maggie could only imagine what his body was like under the suit, but she was pretty damn sure he didn’t have any additional padding sewn in to give him the breadth of shoulder she could see filling the jacket. Strangely enough she wanted to rip his shirt open to see what lay underneath.
Taking another drink of her water she prayed it would help cool her off a little. How she was having hot thoughts about a man she’d likely never see again after what she’d witnessed was beyond her. Maybe it was just a reaction from the terrifying night. Yes, that had to be it.
“I only have a couple of questions for you, and then I’d like to have you work with a sketch artist while the memories are still fresh. After that I’m going to see about getting you a hotel room for the night, just a precaution, and we’ll talk more tomorrow. All right?”
Since she only wanted to know if he’d be staying with her at the hotel Maggie kept her mouth shut, and nodded.
“Excellent. Now, are you positive you heard the name Sorvino?”
“Yes. I heard it twice from two different people at least, maybe three.”
“How many of the men did you get a good look at?”
She had to think about that for a moment. “Mr. Sorvino for sure, he was practically facing me when he shot the man. The one gentleman to the right of the man on his knees. And two others behind Mr. Sorvino, one of whom had been punching the man, Jimmy. The others were back a little further, their faces more in shadows. I doubt I could tell you much about them.”
“No, that’s fine. I’m going to have the sketch artist come in here while Gary and I see to getting you a hotel room for tonight. Start with whomever you like, and go slow. Follow the artist’s prompting. They are quite good, so go with whatever they say even if it sounds a little silly. It works.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She felt oddly safe with Agent Burrows there. Now that he was leaving her she felt the nerves kicking back up.
“Hey,” he said softly. Lifting her eyes she met his. “There’s an officer right outside the door. If you need me, you have him come find me. Okay?”
Relief nearly had her bursting into tears. She nodded, and forced a small smile. “Thank you, Agent Burrows.”
“Douglas,” he said.
The smile wasn’t so forced all of a sudden. “Thank you, Douglas.”
He gave her wrist a little squeeze before withdrawing his hand. Standing he swiped the folder he’d brought with him off the table, and then followed his partner out of the room. Releasing a shaky breath Maggie pressed her fingers to her eyes. God, how the hell had her life gotten so damn complicated so damn fast?
She jerked her head up when the door opened. A young man with a large sketch pad in hand came in and introduced himself to her. Shaking his hand Maggie forced her mind back on task. But that was getting harder and harder to do as the adrenaline from the evening began to wear off.
Chapter Three
Five hours later a hotel employee was opening the door to the room the FBI had secured for her. Special Agent Burrows was right behind Maggie. He thanked the man and presumably gave him a tip before sending him on his way. Stopping in the middle of the room she listened as he shut and locked the door.
She was nervous all of a sudden and didn’t know why. No, actually she did. She was alone in a hotel room where no one knew her to be with the sexiest man she’d ever met. And he was only there to protect her.
Which was really a downer when she thought about it. Kicking off her shoes she wiggled her toes in the high end carpet, and took a long look around. “The FBI must have quite the budget,” she commented.
His soft laugh did fantastic things to her body. “Not really. We get great deals on rooms though, so we can splurge a little as long as it qualifies as official business. Besides, after the night you’ve had, a little luxury wasn’t amiss.”
He had a point there. Crouching she collected her shoes and then moved to check the space out a little better. The bedroom was in a separate room off the sitting area they were currently standing in. She peeked in to take in the king sized bed and the open doorway to the side. Most likely the bathroom. One bed, one bathroom, well this was going to be interesting.
Douglas moved around her and set on the end of the bed the bag he’d sent a female officer to collect from her home. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep? I’ll be in the outer room the entire time if you need me,” he said.
All Maggie could do was nod. She didn’t know what to say. She knew what she’d like to say, but she wasn’t quite that brazen. Though with him she truly wished she was. “Douglas,” she said before he fully closed the sliding doors between the two rooms.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For doing this. I know it’s an imposition, and must be tough on your loved ones, so thank you.” Subtle, Maggie, real subtle.
His smile said he knew exactly what she was digging for. “Well since it’s only my retired parents that might possibly be affected by this, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Get some sleep, Maggie.”
“Right.”
Once the doors were shut she let out a low groan, and smacked her forehead with a fist. “Dumb, dumb, dumb,” she muttered. “Why didn’t you just ask him if he was available, Mags? That you want to rip that too perfectly starched shirt off his body, and do nasty things to him. Un-fucking-believable.” Letting out another groan she headed for the bathroom. May
be a hot shower would clear out some of the cobwebs making her an idiot.
****
A terrified scream had him jumping to his feet, his laptop pushed to the side forgotten, and his weapon up. Moving fast, he went into the bedroom, sweeping the gun around until he was sure Maggie was alone. Finally he turned to look at her, sliding the gun back into the hip holster.
She sat up in the middle of the bed. Eyes wide with terror, hands clutching at the bedding she held pressed to her chest, and her breathing told him she was second away from hyperventilating. He moved slowly now, easing around the bed until he could sit next to her. “Maggie.”
Her name seemed to jolt her. Her head whipped around, and those big blue eyes locked onto him. Exactly three seconds later she burst into tears. Fucking great. He hated tears.
“Shh, you’re all right, Maggie. You’re safe, no one can hurt you here,” he said.
She was shaking her head, and in the next moment she launched herself at him. With nothing else to do he caught her in his arms. Douglas let her scramble into his lap. Wrapping her close he began to rock her back and forth slowly. “Shh, Maggie,” he said in a hope to stem the tide. “I have you. I’m right here. You’re perfectly safe.”
“He shot me,” she whispered.
“What? Who shot you?” he asked. Easing her a little more into his lap Douglas changed positions so he wasn’t in danger of sliding off the bed to his ass.
“Mr. Sorvino, he shot me,” she said.
“Maggie, it was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. You’re alive and safe.” Maybe if he said it enough times she’d hear him through the terror she was feeling. He hoped.
“It was so real. It wasn’t that man on his knees, it was me. He lifted the gun, pointed it at my head, and shot me. It felt so real,” she said with a whimper.
Uniform Fetish Page 12
