Guarding His Midnight Witness
Page 24
“Is this the tip line?” a woman questioned.
Kiely tempered her tone. “Yes, ma’am. You’ve reached the FBI tip line. How can we help you?” she repeated.
“If what I tell you gets someone arrested, will I get a reward?”
“That all depends on what you report, ma’am.”
“Good, ’cause I know some things!”
“Well, let’s start with your name. Who am I speaking with?”
“My name?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll need your name and address and a good contact number to reach you in case one of our agents needs to speak with you further.”
“Let me call you back. I need to check some things,” the woman said as she disconnected the line.
Kiely rolled her eyes skyward. Most of the calls she’d taken that morning had gone similarly. Concerned citizens were more interested in reward money than helping to catch criminals. One man even had the audacity to insist they pay him in advance for information he didn’t yet have, about a robbery that had never been reported.
Claire laughed. “It’s like that most days. I think it’s something in the water.”
“Or a full moon,” Kiely said with a chuckle.
“We appreciate you coming in to help out. Most of our agents are out in the field. If this keeps up we’re going to have to hire additional staff.”
“It’s not a problem,” Kiely answered. “I might be a freelance PI most of the time, but my motives are purely selfish if I’m honest with you.”
“You still trying to find your foster brother?”
Kiely nodded. “Yeah. The last time any of us spoke to him he was scared and on the run. Getting him home is the surest way to keep him safe.”
“I understand. Let us know if there is anything we can do to help.”
Kiely gave the woman a wave as she replaced her headset and adjusted it against her ears. She worked for the family business, Colton Investigations. Her services were often utilized by the local police, the FBI and sometimes the CIA, because she had a reputation for always getting results. Kiely wasn’t above circumventing the rules to get the job done. Because she was trusted and required no handholding, she was routinely invited into the FBI’s inner sanctum and given privileges few others were granted.
For the moment, Kiely volunteering to answer the phones was all about helping Brody Higgins. Brody was family to her and her five siblings, ever since their father, Graham Colton, had taken him under his wing. Before then, Brody had been lost in the foster system. He’d been a smart kid with a string of misdemeanors who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he caught a murder charge for a crime he didn’t commit, their father, a prominent Michigan district attorney, had declined to prosecute, taking him into their home instead. Love and family had turned Brody’s life around...or until recently.
Now Brody was tangled up in the RevitaYou scandal and running from people intent on doing him harm. Borrowing money from a loan shark to invest in RevitaYou then defaulting on that loan had made him a target. When Capital X, the predatory lending organization who’d fronted money to Brody had sent two goons to collect payment and he’d not been able to make good on his debt, they’d broken his fingers, promising to break more the next time they had to pay him a visit. Finding Wes Matthews, the charismatic criminal who’d drawn Brody into the whole mess, was a high priority for her. Kiely answered another call, and then a third and fourth. The tip line was suddenly flooded with incoming calls, pulling her attention from thoughts of Brody and Matthews.
Two hours, umpteen calls and only one credible tip later, and Kiely was ready to hang up her headset. Taking a quick glance down to the Apple Watch on her wrist, she realized it wasn’t yet twelve noon. She needed to take a break and just as she pushed her chair from the desk, one last call rang for her attention. She sighed, pushing the button to answer the line.
“FBI tip line. How can we help you?”
A man’s voice, deep and slightly muffled, sounded in her ear. “I have information about Wes Matthews, the Capital X and RevitaYou banker. I know where he is.”
“Can you tell me your name, sir?” Kiely asked. She took a deep breath and held it. Goose bumps had risen on her arm after hearing Wes Matthews’s name.
“No,” the man said, his tone curt and short. “You just need to know that he’s hiding out at Reeds Lake, off Lakeside Drive. There’s a small, white cottage off the dirt road. He’s there, but I don’t know for how long.”
“Sir, do you...” Kiely started, but a dial tone sounded in her ear, the caller disconnecting the call.
Kiely typed the information she’d received into the call screen, then jumped from her seat. Something about that tip registered on her radar and suddenly had her on edge. This was the one lead she planned to personally vet.
After conferring with one of the technicians she flung herself down the short length of corridor to the corner office with the door closed. Despite wanting to just take off, there were protocols Kiely still had to follow if she wanted to maintain a relationship with the FBI, and updating the agent handling the case was one of them. Unfortunately, the agent she needed to update was Cooper Winston, a man who riled her nerves more than most. He was way too straitlaced and slightly anal. She imagined he probably gave himself a headache due to always being so inflexible.
She knocked on the door but didn’t wait to be welcomed inside. Kiely draped her frustration around her like a bold blanket. She couldn’t begin to understand how such a handsome man could be so infuriating. And he was definitely handsome! His features were chiseled, looking like he’d been carved out of alabaster stone. With eyes that were oceanic blue and thick, reddish-blond hair combed back to tame the natural curl, he looked like a Celtic god. Or what Kiely imagined a Celtic deity should look like. Despite his good looks, he always seemed to take great joy in pushing her buttons and now his too-calm demeanor had her wanting to pull her hair out.
She moved further into his office and dropped down into the chair opposite him. She bit back the expletive on the tip of her tongue, instead focusing on the look he was giving her. There was something in his eyes that suddenly felt like a serious punch to her gut. Her stomach did a slight flip and she found it disconcerting, unable to explain it if she had to. She took a deep breath and held it, then blew it slowly past her lips, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the metal desk.
* * *
As his door flew open and Kiely Colton entered, Cooper looked up, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her. Although he had heard she was in the office volunteering her services, he hadn’t expected to see her. The two had history and little of it had been positive. They’d butted heads often when Kiely circumvented the rules to work a case her own way. He worked by the books, moving from A to Z without skipping E, F and G. Kiely Colton acted like she didn’t know how to count from one to one hundred, her mathematical manipulations all over the place to get the right answers. He found her tendency to leap before looking infuriating. She was reckless, was rarely a team player, or nice, and he knew that behavior could put others in harm’s way.
“What’s going on?” he said, resting his ink pen against the yellow-lined notepad he’d been writing on.
“We’ve got a lead on Wes Matthews. I’m going to go check it out.”
Cooper stood. “No, you’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
As Kiely’s incredulous expression exploded, Cooper noted confusion, frustration and a hint of hostility detonating in real time. He lifted a brow as she continued.
“Are you kidding me, right now? I need to...”
He cut her off, stalling the rant he felt coming. “Calm down, Ms. Colton, and tell me what you know.”
“We’re wasting time,” she snapped.
“And you’re still a civilian,” he quipped. “So, plea
se, take a breath, and update me! So, what do you have?” he asked, his tone even and inquisitive.
“We just got a tip that Wes Matthews is hiding out in a cabin on Reeds Lake. I asked one of your agents to get me a satellite image and I want to go check it out. This might be the break we’ve been looking for.”
“I’m inclined to think your tip is a hoax. We’ve gotten credible information that says Matthews is in the Caribbean, well out of our jurisdiction. He’d be a fool to still be here in Grand Rapids.”
“Then he’s a fool. My gut is telling me that the caller might be credible and it’s well worth checking out.”
He shook his head. “I think it’s a waste of time and resources.”
“You do know that I don’t need your permission to follow up on a lead, right? That this is just a courtesy? Obviously, if I lay eyes on him, I’ll immediately call for backup.” Kiely’s tone was defiant and determined. She moved onto her feet. “Because I am going!”
No woman should be so lovely and so darn exasperating, Cooper thought as he stood watching her. He hated to admit it, but he had honestly tried to forget how attractive she was. But having her in his space had made that harder for him to do. She wore black denim. The matching pants and jacket were flattering to her petite frame. The white blouse beneath it was crisply ironed and an FBI visitor’s badge hung from a lanyard around her neck. Her makeup was sparse, just a hint of eyeliner and clear lip gloss complementing her crystal-clear complexion. Bangs and a shoulder-length bob highlighted her lush brown hair.
Cooper found the pout on her face unnerving, stirring heat in places that he was finding difficult to ignore. He shook the sensation away, shifting his focus to the door behind her. Despite his conjecture, she was determined to do what she wanted, whether he agreed or not. And he didn’t agree, believing she was headed out on another wild-goose chase.
“Fine,” he snapped as she moved toward the exit. “But I’m going with you.”
“Excuse you?” Kiely stopped short, turning around to give him a look. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“That’s not why I’m going. The FBI received a tip and an FBI agent will follow up on that tip. Chain of command and all that,” he said, moving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“That’s a stretch, don’t you think?”
“I think that you interfering could be considered dangerous. What if something happens? Like you see him and he gets away because you didn’t have backup? I’d hate to charge you with obstructing my investigation. So, you will not go without me going with you. Give me ten minutes and we can head that way.”
Kiely shook her head, her frustration knee-deep. “Fine,” she finally snapped. “But I’ll drive.”
* * *
By the time she was outside the office, standing at the bank of elevators, Kiely was not happy about the turn of events. She was very much a lone wolf when it came to the cases she investigated. Cooper’s insistence that he join her was not sitting well and she felt like there would inevitably be a conflict with what she would need to do and what he would want her to do.
She watched him as he maneuvered around the office, moving from cubicle to cubicle. He dropped files onto desks and delegated orders. He had changed out of his black suit and was wearing khaki slacks and a dark blue nylon jacket with the prominent yellow FBI logo. She had always thought him attractive, but she hadn’t realized just how gorgeous he really was. Because he was gorgeous. He was a tall powerhouse of defined muscle. His chiseled features and ginger-red hair made him model-pretty. His beard and mustache had been meticulously trimmed and his eyes were the most mesmerizing ocean blue.
As Kiely stared at him intently, his cell phone rang. He paused in the middle of the aisle and answered the call. The conversation was brief and clearly concerning. Kiely felt herself tense as the color drained from his face. He suddenly rushed toward where she stood, pushing past her as he hurried to the exit.
“What’s wrong?” Kiely questioned, hurrying after him.
Cooper shot her a quick look. Resounding fear echoed in his voice as he answered, “My son Alfie is missing!”
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN-13: 9781488064265
Guarding His Midnight Witness
Copyright © 2020 by Anna J. Stewart
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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