She wondered if he could be right, and someday she really would be able to forgive him. But she didn’t think so.
Michael sat in the conference room at BUZZ. He had been there for nearly two hours, being grilled by the two drug enforcement agents sitting across from him. Answering questions about his father. Going over and over the details of his trip to Colombia.
As if he’d been there on vacation. As if he had enjoyed being marched at gunpoint, wet and freezing his ass off, into the jungles of the desolate Sierra Nevada mountains. Worried sick the whole time about the woman he had fallen in love with.
Leave it to his father to make his life miserable—again.
“Everything you’ve told us matches what we’ve learned so far,” Special Agent Richmond said, a lean man with a receding hairline and piercing blue eyes. “Which means you should have nothing to worry about.”
Yeah, nothing at all. Just a father who was a drug smuggler and a crime lord, among other things. “What about Pia Santana? She was with me—also against her will. Which you probably already know.”
“We have agents speaking to Ms. Santana this morning.” The second man, Special Agent Phifer, was young and a little too gung ho. He made Michael nervous. “If her story matches yours and the information we already have, she won’t have a problem. On the other hand...” He let the sentence trail off, his meaning clear.
Michael’s stomach knotted. He needed to talk to her, explain why she was being questioned, tell her what was going on. He had told her his father was rich. He hadn’t mentioned how Knox Winston made his money.
“That should do it for now,” Agent Richmond said, rising from his chair. “Be better if you kept yourself available in case we need anything more.”
Michael nodded faintly.
Richmond and Phifer left the office, and Michael’s brain began to function again. He needed to talk to Pia, but the conversation they needed to have wasn’t something he could do over the phone.
Grabbing his cell off the desk, he headed out of the conference room, pausing long enough to speak to his office manager, tell him he had to go to Miami but he would be back in a couple of days.
If Pia agreed to see him at all.
He was on his way home to pack a bag when his phone started ringing. The caller ID popped up as Brandon Garrett.
Michael hit the hands-free. “Hey, Bran, good to hear from you.”
“Where are you going, Michael?”
The serious note in Bran’s voice put him on alert. And how did Brandon know he was going somewhere? “I just left my office. I’m on my way home. How’d you know?”
“A friend has been keeping an eye on you. He saw you walk out of the building.”
He glanced around, looking for whoever was out there, but didn’t see anyone. “Something’s come up. I’m heading out of town for a couple of days. Who’s watching me? What’s going on, Bran?”
“I know your address. I’ll meet you there. I’ll explain when I see you.”
Michael frowned. “You’re in Houston?”
“That’s right. Keep your eyes open and stay alert. We’ll talk soon.”
The knot returned to Michael’s stomach. Considering he had been kidnapped only a few weeks ago and just left the company of two federal agents, God only knew what could be happening.
He drove home too fast and prayed he wouldn’t be stopped, parked in his garage, went into his apartment and checked the place out. No one there. Nothing disturbed. He was definitely being paranoid, but still...
Since Bran hadn’t arrived, he went into his bedroom and packed a carry-on for his Miami trip. A knock sounded on the door as he finished. Zipping the bag, he carried it out to the living room, checked the peephole, spotted Bran and breathed a sigh of relief.
When he opened the door, Brandon stepped into the living room and Michael noticed the bulge of a pistol in a shoulder harness beneath his leather jacket.
At Brandon’s grim expression, Michael’s senses went on alert. “What the hell, Bran?”
Brandon clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Mikey. We need to talk.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chase was still staying in Harper’s town house instead of his condo. He wanted Harper to trust him again. He didn’t want her to feel any more pressure than she did already.
