"You're very cagey, Mr. Malone."
"Really? I think I'm being quite forthcoming."
"Look, Ms. Barkley may not survive the night, and there's a good chance she was deliberately targeted. If you know something that can help find the person who did this, start talking."
"Why do you think she was the target?" he countered.
She was reluctant to answer his questions when he was stonewalling her, but maybe if she gave him a little, he'd give something back. "A man spilled coffee and whipped cream on her, which sent her to the restroom minutes before an explosive device planted near that restroom went off."
Something shifted in his expression, so subtle she almost missed it in the dim light. "Is that a fact?"
"It is. Now, your turn."
"I don't have any information."
"I don't believe you."
He gave her another assessing look, then said, "Ms. Barkley didn't say why she wanted to speak to me. When I heard she was injured in the explosion, I wondered if she was the target."
"How did you hear she was hurt? Her name hasn't been released to the public."
"Like I said, mutual friend."
"I'm going to need a name."
"You're not going to get it from me."
"Why not? Wouldn't Ms. Barkley's friend want to help with the investigation?"
"How did you happen to be in the café this morning?" he asked, ignoring her question. "Did you have an idea something was going to happen?"
"No."
"You were just there by chance, and now you're investigating? That's a coincidence, isn't it?"
"I'm an FBI agent, and I'd like to know who almost got me killed this morning. I'm very motivated to find that information, and I'm not going to let some shady security guy stop me from doing that."
"I'm not trying to stop you from doing anything. I hope you can find the perpetrator quickly."
"Who's the mutual friend?" she asked again.
"Goodnight, Agent Reid."
"This conversation isn't over," she said in annoyance, but he was already walking away from her. "I can bring you in."
He turned his head and gave her a smile. "I'd just ask for a lawyer, and since you have no reason whatsoever to hold me, that would be a waste of time for both of us."
She really hated that he was right. At least, he'd given her one clue—a mutual friend. Now, she just had to figure out who that was. Since he'd known about Samantha, that meant the friend was probably connected to Samantha's family. Perhaps the sister would know why Samantha had wanted to talk about security with Max Malone. Hopefully, she could speak to her in the morning.
Max couldn't get Agent Kara Reid's image out of his head as left the area. In fact, her face had been stuck in his mind since he'd seen her earlier in the day, long before he'd known she was an FBI agent. She was not only a beautiful woman, with deep brown eyes, beautiful skin, and thick, wavy brown hair that would probably look spectacular if she let it out of her professional ponytail; she was also courageous. She'd run back into a burning building, with no thought to her own safety. He'd thought it had been pure bravery, but now he realized she'd also been trained to act in a dangerous situation. And that's exactly what she'd done.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he glanced at his watch, seeing another impatient text from Dominic Ashford. Since he was about to enter the lobby of Dominic's building, he ignored the text and headed inside, checking in with the security desk before heading up to the penthouse apartment on the thirtieth floor. He gave a quick nod to the guard, who knocked, then let him in.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dominic demanded as he met him in the foyer.
It was rare to see the thirty-five-year-old British billionaire in such an anxious state, but one that was completely understandable.
"What's the update on Samantha?"
