Ian
How there’s not a worn spot on the tile where I’m pacing endlessly, I have no idea.
Jenson sits on the bench, doing something on his phone, while Franklin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, surveying the people passing by. The other two agents, whose names I didn’t bother to remember, are on the bench across the hall, lost in conversation.
Deciding to use this moment to get some clarity, I stop in front of Franklin. “I haven’t wanted to press Maggie, but I need to know. How big is this trial?”
Astonishment flashes across his face. “You don’t know about what happened?”
I grind my teeth, annoyed with myself for not pressing Maggie for more information. “She’s told me a little but not everything.”
He sighs and pulls at the collar of his shirt with hisfinger, giving himself a little more room to breathe beneath his tie. “Your girl’s ex was a real piece of work. The FBI knows he’s committed countless crimes, but they only have enough evidence for a few of them. Right or wrong, they decided this was the one they cared about the most and felt they had the best chance of conviction. Figured if they could get him behind bars for this, they might be able to find more evidence on others without the risk of him committing more.”
My stomach sours, knowing I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. “And how does Maggie fit into this?”
Franklin glances up and down the hallway, lowering his voice. “I don’t know all the specifics about the case, but from what I understand, Maggie witnessed him killing a federal judge, and then he forced her to help himclean upafter. And it was a pretty gruesome murder, if the state of the corpse when it was found was any indication.” He levels his stare on me again. “She took quite the plea deal for this. They wanted to charge her too, as an accessory.”
My limbs feel numb, and my head swims. I can barely believe that’s what Maggie went through. And that’s only one thing. She was with that man for years. There’s no telling the number of horrific things that she endured in that time.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate you telling me.”
He inclines his head. “Not everyone feels this way, but in my opinion, Maggie was just as much a victim as the judge and any other person harmed by this asshole.” His stare is somber as he shakes his head. “I don’t blame Maggie for not wanting to talk about it. Or you for not pushing her. That’s some rough shit to go through.” Pulling his card out of his pocket, he hands it to me. “If you ever need anything, my cell is on here.”
With a nod, I take the card from him and slip it into my pocket.
We both turn as the door opens and Maggie walks out. My heart lurches as I take in her pale skin and blank expression. Rushing over, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her body against me. She mumbles my name distractedly, and I look at Franklin. “Let’s get her out of here.”
He wastes no time calling for Jenson, who didn’t bother to move when Maggie exited the courtroom, unlike all the other marshals who were by our side in seconds.
“Jenson, get off your ass,” Franklin barks out.
Once Jenson ambles over to us, we walk toward the exit. Jenson goes out first and holds the door open for the rest of us. With my hand on her lower back, I guide Maggie out, keeping her in front of me.
“Maggie! Maggie!” a deep voice calls out.
I rush out the door and push Maggie behind me. My jacket pulls tight from where her hands grip my sides. Franklin and one of the other agents step in front of me.
“Stop right where you are,” Franklin bellows.
The man takes a few more steps. He’s dressed in a suit, so he looks like an upstanding citizen, but there’s something about his eyes, the way they shift around the crowd, the way they narrow when they look in Maggie’s direction—not that he can see her through me—I don’t trust his outward appearance one bit.
“Hey, man, it’s no big deal. I’m just a friend of Maggie’s. Right? Maggie, tell ’em. Just wanted to say hi. It’s been a while.”
Franklin and the agent step forward as the other agent starts to usher Maggie and me toward the waiting SUV. I have no idea where Jenson is during all of this.
“Ian, please.” Maggie’s voice is pleading.
I pull her tighter against my side as I quicken our pace. “Let’s get to the car, baby.”
The last few feet feel way too long. The man’s voice carries through the air behind us, sounding more agitated the farther we get.
I’m pulling the door open when we hear, “Maggie, remember the last time we talked?”
Maggie freezes and pales even more.
“That was such a good conversation. I miss talking to you! Hope to see you soon!”
I’ve heard enough, and I all but throw her into the back of the SUV. I need her to be safely away from here as soon as possible. Slamming the door shut, I holler that we need to go.
