“You got it.” Ever the consummate hostess, Eliza scurried toward the metal staircase that would take her to the first floor. Or…as much of a scurry as Eliza ever managed, which was more of an elegant quickening of her steps.
Sabrina’s eyes and voice were hesitant when she returned her attention to the gathered group. “I don’t want to start a new life.” Her tone grew more confident. “I want to clear Knox’s name. If I justtalkto the FBI and tell them what I saw and know, then surely they’ll stop hunting us. Surely they’ll protect us while they find the culprit within their ranks.”
The defiant tilt of her chin made Britt wonder if beneath the drained, malnourished stray resided a woman possessing more than her fair share of grit.
The abuse she’d suffered at the hands of the men who’d come for Cooper and Knox had only been intimated at in the tale Knox spun. But Britt was good at reading between the lines. She’d been brutalized. And when her brother had tried to save her from the worst of it, she’d watched him take a round to the brainpan.
That she was still on her feet and not catatonic in a corner somewhere spoke to her tenacity.
He softened his tone when he told her, “I wish I had as much faith in the wheels of justice as you do. But whoever outed Knox and your brother to the cartel is corrupt. This person didn’t think twice about forfeiting the lives of two men. Your life won’t be any different.”
He watched her long, pale throat work over a swallow. She’d been through hell and he hated piling on. But there was nothing for it. Shehadto know what she was up against.
Hew was the one to drive the point home. “If you walk into the nearest FBI field office and share your account of what went down at your brother’s house, there’s a good chance the double-crosser will find a way to discount you. Or, the easiest thing they could do is share your location with the cartel and let the drug lords do the dirty work for them. No.” Hew shook his head. “The only safe bet is to find the rat first and add your testimony to Knox’s account of things later.”
Britt watched what little blood remained in Sabrina’s face drain away. “Th-that’s what Knox said,” she whispered, her chin trembling. “He said our best bet was to make it here with the hope that his brother—” she hitched her chin toward Britt—“could hide us or help us disappear. I just—” She twisted her hands so hard Britt worried she might snap off a finger. “I just didn’t want to believe him that there’s no way out of this.”
To Britt’s surprise, it wasn’t tough-gals-stick-together Becky who jumped up to put a comforting arm around Sabrina’s shoulders. It was Hew. The man looked huge next to the doe-eyed brunette.
“Come sit down before you fall down,” he murmured, and Britt watched in astonishment as the big man gently steered her toward the conference table.
She retook the seat she’d abandoned earlier, sniffed back her tears, and nodded her thanks. “You’re friends with that FBI woman, right?” She turned a beseeching gaze on Britt. “The one from the kitchen? She’s not associated with the case Cooper and Knox were working. Couldn’t you convince her to listen to us? Tohelpus?”
Mention of Julia had visions of that kiss dancing in Britt’s head.
Every pleasurable sensation he’d ever experienced had been instantly forgotten the minute her lips touched his, and he’d been lost. Lost in the feel of her busy hands. Lost in the all-consuming, hungry wetness of her mouth.
Kissing Julia had felt like touching the sun. Letting her walk out that door, knowing he’d deceived her, had hurt like heartbreak. And now he was being asked to drag her into this mess—the thought was as enticing as it was terrifying.
“Wait.” Becky popped the sucker out of her mouth to point it at Britt. “So you’refriendswith Agent O’Toole now? I thought you were stalking her.”
“I wasn’tstalkingher,” he insisted for what felt like the one-millionth time. “I was just…”
He didn’t finish the sentence because he couldn’t finish the sentence since he was…you know…stalking her.
“What makes you think Britt and the FBI agent are friends?” Ozzie asked, his laptop open in front of him. His fingers flew across the keyboard, but Britt had learned Ozzie could give both ears to a conversation while simultaneously giving both hands to his computer.
“Because he kissed her,” Hew declared, and that was enough to cause Ozzie’s flying fingers to come to an abrupt landing.
Britt glowered at Hew. “I swear you’re begging me to junk punch you today.”
“Youkissedher?” Becky’s eyes were wide in emphasis.
“I wasdistractingher. Peanut”—the cat had been sitting at the end of the table, leg behind his head so he could thoroughly clean his balls, but he lifted his face away from his task when he heard his name—“almost outed their hiding spot.” Britt gestured toward Hew and Sabrina. “It was the only thing I could think to do to keep O’Toole from opening the pantry in search of cat treats and?—”
He held his palms out in front of him in a classic traffic cop “stop” hand signal. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. What matters is Julia O’Tooleisn’tmy friend. So she’s not an asset we can rely on here.”
9
FBI Regional Headquarters, W Roosevelt Road
Julia powered off her computer monitor, straightened the files on the edge of her desk, and opened the side drawer to pull out her fanny pack.
“Yeah.” Dillan pushed back in his chair and grumpily shoved down the shirtsleeves he’d rolled up his forearms. “Might as well call it a day since absolutely jack shit happened and since absolutely jack shit is likely to happen.”
He'd been pouting like a child denied his favorite treat since they’d learned they wouldn’t be joining the hunt for a fugitive. If petulance had a name, it would be Agent Dillan Douglas.
Not that she blamed him. The itch to get back in the field had gone from a minor inconvenience to a raging case of poison ivy. Her brain needed towork. So did her body.
