“I’m sorry, Cassie. My priority always will be you.”
“I’m sorry too. I know how much you care about me. I talked the assignment through with Stephanie last week, not the particulars, but enough to work through it, and I have my regular appointment with her on Monday. In the meantime, I will practice my grounding techniques. I promise.” She gave her uncle a reassuring look. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of Mr. Chase.”
She thought about her first encounter with him. After a drunk patron grabbed her, she pulled Ian behind the scenes to seeVenus With a Mirror.
“His brushstrokes convey our sense of touch. What does she see in the mirror? What do we see? What do we feel?” Her voice was trembling. Realizing they were holding hands, she looked up at the handsome man and met his stare. “Beauty is alive and vibrant.”
He released her, placing a wisp of escaped hair behind her ear. “Thank you, sweet Cassie.”
“Don’t worry about embarrassing Ian. The paparazzi taught him some lessons. The latest news says he has a woman living in every bedroom at his estate. He is building a polygamous colony so each woman can service a bizarre sexual need.” Luke shook his head. “He seemed to like you.”
“Am I going to have to do what the boys do? Something about a week’s notice?” The five Paulsen sons warned that they would give their parents a short notice before their wedding and nothing else about their relationships. Cassie brushed her uncle off with her humor, her usual way to guard herself.
Luke observed her with care. “Are you sleeping? You look exhausted. Does Greg have you working late hours?”
She wasn’t going to shake Luke off the trail. “No. The team isn’t working late.” That wasn’t a lie. She couldn’t tell him she wasn’t sleeping well since Greg Wilds invited himself into her house for after-work activities.
“C’mon, let’s get dinner started.”
Cassie grabbed the bottle of wine. The black file was on the table. “I guess I shouldn’t ask what Ian Chase was doing here.”
“Go on ahead, Pumpkin.” Luke picked up the folder and deposited it in his locked desk drawer.
* * *
The following morning at FBI headquarters, Supervisory Special Agent Greg Wilds sat at the head of a conference table with his team of six agents, pounding the threats made against Senator Robert Bynum into their heads. “The senior senator from Virginia has received multiple threats from the fringe of a left-leaning feminist group about his stance on women.” Wilds scowled at Cassie. “Is protecting this man going to be an issue for you, Modine?”
“No, sir. I don’t have to like the man to protect him.” Cassie ground her pen into her notes.
Special Agent Preston Galloway asked, “Are there any photographs of the hierarchy of the group? Anything to give us an inkling of what they’re planning?”
In the middle of his detailed response, a Blondie song yelled, “Call me. Call me any, anytime.” Cassie silenced the phone.
“Are we disturbing your social schedule, Agent Modine?” Wilds asked.
She shoved the phone deep into her pocket, angry at herself for forgetting to silence it before the meeting. “I apologize, I thought I turned it off. You have my absolute attention.”
Greg Wilds, six-foot-two with cinnamon red hair, eyes the color of coal, and linebacker-broad shoulders, strode around the room, placing two meaty hands on his temporary assignee’s shoulders. “I better have your attention. It might be the difference between you continuing working in this agency or collecting unemployment.” His mouth just inches from her face, his tongue darted like a toad’s against her ear.
Her gut clenched. He forced his probing fingers into her pocket, dipping them forward toward her crotch. Pulling out the phone, he answered the call.
“Cassie?”
At the sound of the recognizable voice of a man he hated, Wilds frowned. “I’m sorry, Ms. Modine is unable to take calls right now because, unlike you, she works for a living.” He turned off the phone and returned it to Cassie. “Your boyfriend will have to wait!”
Her teammates appeared sympathetic but said nothing.Okay, Cass. No help is coming. It’s up to you.Exhausted from days of interrupted sleep, she didn’t think through all the consequences to her next actions.
After a deep breath, she said, “Mr. Wilds, do not touch me again, or I will not hesitate to file a sexual harassment report with HR. Am I making myself clear?” Cassie was pleased with how strong her voice sounded.
The harassment began the minute she walked into Greg’s office to introduce herself. At first, it was just annoying verbal jousting. Monday, he pushed his way past her front door. His actions took her by surprise. It wasn’t until he tore her blouse and stopped to stare at the white scars on her chest that she was able to respond by reaching for her weapon, kicking him, and breaking free.
“You just made the biggest mistake of your career,” Wilds had said, fleeing her house in anger.
His snarling voice brought her back to the present. “What, Princess?”
Agent Vincent Cruz cringed.
“My name is Cassie, Cassie Modine, Miss Modine, or Agent Modine. Not Princess. I will remind you that as a special agent with the Art and Cultural Property Crime Division, I am trained the same as every other agent here. I understand there is a learning curve when you are new to a team. I can only assure you: I am quite competent. I’ll chalk it up to you not knowing me, Mr. Wilds, but I want to be clear here in front of five witnesses. I will not now—nor will I ever—tolerate you calling me Princess or tolerate you placing your hands on me again.” She chose not to mention it wasn’t the first time he’d touched her.
