With a wary nod, Shawn motioned at Troy to follow him and headed toward the woman in red. They towered over her as she looked up from cradling her head in her hands. Weariness had settled in the fine lines around her mouth and eyes.
“Come with us, ma’am,” Shawn said in a low voice. “We’ll get you settled in one of the back rooms.”
“Thank you.” She rose shakily to her feet and clasped her small black purse to her side. “Lead the way.”
A few minutes later, they were all seated in an interview room with cups of poorly made coffee steaming in front of each of them. The woman clasped hers with both hands, but didn’t take a drink. Instead, she stared into its depths until Troy was sure she was contemplating whether she could disappear inside the scalding hot liquid.
“I’m Captain Richmond and this is my associate, Agent Troy, from the Federal Bureau of Investigations,” Shawn began, sipping his cup and giving her a small smile. “Why don’t you start by telling us your name?”
“The FBI?” Her gaze darted between Troy and Shawn as panic flared once again in her almond-shaped eyes. “I didn’t know I’d have to talk to the FBI.”
“I’m just here to listen,” Troy said, letting his hands fall innocently onto the table. He tried his best to smile at her, to give her a comforting expression, but the effort fell flat. Instead, he returned to his usual habit of frowning. “Don’t give me any thought. Just tell Captain Richmond what he needs to know and we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment, until finally, she blinked and returned her attention to Shawn. “My name is Bethany Reed.”
“All right, Miss Reed.” Shawn scribbled her name down on his report and looked expectantly back up at her. “Tell me what happened.”
With a deep breath, she sat up in her chair and folded her slender fingers together on the table. “I went on a blind date tonight. I don’t usually do those kinds of things, but my mother’s been pressuring me and well, the guy contacted me on a legitimate dating website. So I thought I’d take a chance.”
Troy pressed his lips together and hid his smirk. They’d have to fill his veins with embalming fluid before he’d give into the complete embarrassment of a blind date. He preferred the old-fashioned version of courting a woman. Meet her, date her, marry her. Simple.
Not that he’d had any luck in that department since his fiance left him over ten years ago. His career had always come first and by the time he’d realized what had happened, his twenties had flown right past him—along with the hopes of ever settling down and starting a family.
“Why don’t you move along to the murder?” Shawn asked, tapping his pen on the desk. His eyes had begun to glaze over.
“Of course.” Bethany coughed and her cheeks turned red. “You don’t want to hear about my dating life. What I was getting to was that the date wasn’t going so well, but he wanted to show off his new office. So I went with him to his office building just down the street from here. That large, ugly office building on fourth. You know the place?”
Troy nodded. He’d often thought the building was pretentious. But then, it was probably preferable to the tiny cubicle office he’d been sentenced to back at the local Bureau.
“Well, that’s where I saw it.” Her hands fluttered nervously and she grabbed for the silver charm hanging from her neck. “These men were there, talking in the dark. One of them got clobbered with a desk lamp. I’m not sure if he was even alive when I ran away. They were going to show him what happened to traitors. It’s too terrible to even think about...”
Her eyes filled up with tears and she stared resolutely at the ceiling, blinking back the moisture. Troy’s ears buzzed with excitement, the old flutter returning to his chest. He lived for these kinds of cases. They kept him going, gave him his drive. He needed to know more.
“Did you recognize any of these men?” he asked, leaning forward. He could feel Shawn’s annoyance at his interruption, but he didn’t care. “Anyone at all?”
“Yes. I’m certain of one of them.” She pressed her delicate red lips into a thin line and gave him a sad frown. “The man bossing everyone around was Gerald Void. I recognized him from the evening news. He was the one holding the gun. He was the one who wanted that guy dead.”
Victory blared inside Troy’s head like the jingle of a jackpot winning spin at the penny slots. He shot out of his chair and stared down at her, excitement tingling in his spine. “Are you certain about that? Are you certain it was Gerald Void?”
The FBI had been investigating the Void family for years, but to no avail. The Voids kept their criminal activity locked up tighter than a dirty pearl in an oyster. Gerald Void’s mayoral win would bury it even deeper after he got the chance to dig his grimy fingers into the local government. The only way the Voids were ever going to see justice was to catch them before they gained more power. A murder charge could bring all of that crashing down around them. This was what they’d been waiting for.
“I’m sure of what I saw.” Bethany lifted her chin and fixed him with a courageous expression that impressed even Troy. “It was him.”
Troy couldn’t help the victorious holler that tore from his throat. He beamed at his friend and smacked him on the back. “We’ve got him, Shawn! This is it.”
Bethany stared at him in shock as Shawn ordered him to return to his seat. Only after Troy had managed to fit his hulking form back into the puny metal folding chair did Shawn speak again.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Troy.” His tone carried a heavy warning. “The Voids are a powerful family. They’re not going to like their golden boy being accused of murder without some cold, hard proof. Without a body, we’ve got nothing.”
“We’ve got her.” Troy pointed at Bethany and threw Shawn an incredulous look. “She can testify about what happened. Just look at her. Any jury in the world would believe her.”
All they needed was to take the case before a grand jury and Bethany Reed would be the end of the whole Void dynasty. He was sure of it.
“Testify?” Bethany had clasped the silver chain tighter in her hands, until her knuckles turned white. “What do you mean, testify?”
Shawn splayed a hand on the table in front of her and gave her a steady look. “If a prosecutor would decide to move on the case, you’d have to testify before a grand jury and then in court. If we don’t have any physical evidence, everything would fall on your testimony.”
Blood rushed to Bethany’s cheeks and she jumped from her chair, causing it to collapse on the floor behind her in a loud clatter. “I can’t do that. I can’t...”
“Yes, you can.” Troy frowned at her. Gone was the impressive spark of courage. Panic had returned to her eyes. “And you will. This is your civic duty.”
“I came to you guys because I thought you needed to know. But I don’t want to testify in front of anyone. Especially with my luck.” She began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think I want to go home.”
“Miss Reed,” Shawn began, rising from the table, “without your testimony—”
“I’m leaving,” she said breathlessly, yanking the door open. “Please, forget what I told you. I need to go.”
Troy blinked as he watched her march from the room. There went his only piece of evidence that could end Gerald Void. He needed her. He needed her testimony. He couldn’t let her go.
“Wait!” He lunged from the room and caught her just as she was about to slip out the door and onto the dark Las Vegas streets. She jerked back when he grasped her arm, her eyes going wide as dinner plates. “Please, Miss Reed, at least take my card.”
Reaching into his suit pants, he pulled a white business card with his phone number embossed in bold black ink. He pressed it into the palm of her hand as their eyes met and a small bolt of electricity shot up his arm.
“I don’t want...” She looked down at his hand still clasped around her forearm. He released her and
backed off a step, hoping he hadn’t completely scared her off.
“Take it,” he said, lowering his voice. “At the very least, keep it for your protection. If those goons find out about you, they might come after you.”
“That’s impossible. They have no idea where I live,” she shot back, lifting her chin. But in her eyes, he could see a flash of fear.
“Nonetheless, call me if you have any problems. Or if you change your mind.” He licked his lips, wishing for the words that would convince her to stay. “You know, if people like you don’t stand up to people like him, then we’ll never be able to put the bad guys behind bars.”
Bethany smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, and it’s unlucky people like me who get stuck in the crossfire. Not today. Sorry for wasting your time, Agent Troy.”
He watched her retreat down the cement stairs and onto the sidewalk. Her red dress stood out among the rest of the revelers crowding the sidewalk during this late evening. His gaze tracked her down the rest of the block until she disappeared around the corner.
All he could do was hope that she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Three
Bethany
Bethany blew a wisp of blonde hair out of her face and grimaced at the imposing brick apartment building in front of her. She hadn’t gone home last night. Instead, she’d wandered from coffee shop to late night diner, ingesting coffee as if it were going to erase her problems or her unease.
It hadn’t.
It wasn’t like Gerald Void’s people were going to find her. She’d taken a taxi to her blind date with Matthew. All he had was her phone number and first name. With his endless chatter over dinner about his promotion, she hadn’t had the time to give him much information about herself. And what little she’d said, she was sure he hadn’t heard.
Surely, the danger was over. Las Vegas was a huge city. They couldn’t find her. That FBI agent had been wrong. Agent Troy didn’t know what he was talking about.
His chiseled face flashed before her eyes, causing her gut to twinge. The agent’s intensity had been both unsettling and comforting. She’d left that interview room feeling like she’d had an out-of-body experience.
Now that Bethany had finally made it back to her apartment, she could feel the caffeine wearing off. Dark circles hung under her eyes and her legs barely managed to drag her up the stairs to her beloved studio apartment. Still, when she went to put the key in her lock, even the daze of sleep couldn’t dull the sudden feeling that something wasn’t right.
Her bolt had been left undone and the door knob unlocked. As a single woman living alone, she’d always been extra careful to lock her door. Someone had been there. Someone who didn’t belong.
“Hello?” As the adrenaline surged throughout her body, she slid her keys between her knuckles, pointing out.
She’d never punched anyone in her life. But, she’d read somewhere once that women should use their keys as a weapon in a situation like this. Despite her bravado, her hands shook as she slowly pushed the door open and glanced inside.
The basket of junk mail sitting next to the door was spread all over the floor. Pushing the door a little farther, she could see that someone had dumped all of her drawers on the floor of the studio apartment. Her clothes sat in disorganized heaps. Her furniture tossed and broken. Everything was torn apart. Her life had been left in shreds.
Deep down, she knew this wasn’t some coincidence. Somehow, Matthew and his friends had found her. The thought made her blood run cold.
“Hello?” She clasped her phone in her other hand and took a tentative step forward. Fear had made her thoughts jumble. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her to run, but she refused to listen to it. This was her home, after all. “Is anyone there?”
Nothing but silence. Whoever had broken in had left. There weren’t exactly many places to hide out in the tiny apartment. Bethany closed the door behind her and, out of habit, turned the bolt. But the sudden awareness that not even that would protect her from these intruders washed over her like an icy shower. If Gerald Void’s people came back for her, there was nothing stopping them from breaking into her home. She’d be a sitting duck.
Walking toward her bed, she froze when a noise sounded behind her. They were still here. Every fiber of her body screamed at her to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. She closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow.
Surely, Void’s men wouldn’t drag it out. If it helped, she wouldn’t even put up a fight. After all, she was a mouse caught in a trap, with nowhere left to run.
The noise sounded again, but this time it was accompanied by the long, sad moan of a hungry cat. Bethany’s gaze darted toward the fire escape outside her bedroom window. Beyond the glass sat a plump orange cat with big green eyes and a chunk missing from his left ear. He gave another mournful meow and pawed at the window.
The breath she’d been holding left her body in a ragged sigh. Running toward the window, she threw it open and in hopped the cat as it sent a disgusted look in her direction.
“Samson, you nearly gave me a heart attack, you naughty kitty.” She scooped him up and kissed him on the top of his squirming head. She’d never been so happy to see the feline that had adopted her two years ago after a shared can of tuna. “I thought you were here to kill me.”
Samson gave her a disgruntled look that did nothing to chase away the momentary relief in Bethany’s chest. Still, the thought that someone had been in her apartment recently was unsettling. Her hands shook as she gently placed Samson back on the ground. She backed up toward the doorway, clutching her purse at her side.
She couldn’t stay here. Not when the men who were looking for her could return at any minute. She needed to get away. To somewhere she could think clearly.
It was twenty minutes later that she finally found herself standing in front of her mother’s nursing home. Even with the effects of the Alzheimer's disease, she knew her mother would already be awake, sitting up in bed and working on the New York Times crossword. Mornings were her best times. The rest of the day would be a horrible struggle for her mother’s mind as her ability to remember who she was slipped away—a struggle which seemed to only get worse the older her mother got.
Bethany signed in at the front desk of the nursing home and then made the familiar trek down the tan carpeted halls toward her mother’s room. The place smelled like a mixture of antiseptics, old moth balls, and cheap floral air freshener. A few CNAs moved silently from room to room in their pink scrubs. Televisions blared the morning news through several ajar doors.
Just outside room one hundred and twelve, Bethany paused. Her mother had been offered the neighboring private room—one hundred and thirteen—back when she was still sharing a room with an older woman. She’d flat out refused to take it, even if it meant six months of waiting for another private room to open up. The number thirteen was bad luck and she had been convinced she would die the moment they moved her there.
Lila Reed had always been a little on the eccentric side.
“Hi Momma.” Bethany walked in through the door and dropped her purse on the wicker chair in the corner.
As predicted, her mother sat on her bed with her legs tucked up underneath her and the New York Times crossword splayed out on the quilted comforter. She had the tip of a pencil between her teeth, her forehead furrowed in thought. Time had touched her head with long strands of gray hair mixed in with the brown. She wore it loose, cascading down her shoulders in waves. A crocheted blanket had been wrapped around her frail shoulders and over her denim pants and soft cotton pink t-shirt. She looked up when Bethany walked in and smiled.
“Beth! I didn’t expect you this early.” Her brown eyes traveled down to Bethany’s red dress and opened wide. “You’re still in the dress. Does that mean the date went well? I told you red would bring you luck, did I not? Tell me, have you met my future son-in-law?”
Bethany cringed and avoided her mother�
��s eyes. She didn’t need to know the particular details of last night. Bethany’s gaze settled on the tray of food sitting next to the bed, untouched. “Momma, why haven’t you eaten your breakfast? Dr. Allen says you need to keep your weight up.”
“Don’t avoid the topic, young lady.” Lila’s jaw hardened and she spoke with a tone all too familiar to Bethany. That had been the voice of discipline growing up. As exasperating as it was to have her mother use it on her as an adult, Bethany appreciated these moments where it was clearly her mother and not the Alzheimer's speaking. “How was your date?”
“Awful.” Bethany sank into the nearest chair and scrubbed her face with her hands. “Just awful.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Lila let the blanket fall from her shoulders and leaned forward to fix her daughter with a stare. “I’m sure he’ll call. I read your horoscope yesterday. It was good. Very good. The stars were aligned for you to meet your true match.”
Bethany resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had been reading their horoscopes every day for the past twenty years and had allowed it to dictate their lives to the point of insanity. How could she have explained to her best friend at the age of twelve that her mother wouldn’t let her go to the movies because her horoscope predicted great tragedy should she leave the safety of her home?
Or, how crazy would it have sounded to her first boyfriend that the reason she couldn’t date him anymore was because the planetary alignment during his day of birth predicated him toward a life of failure? It just wasn’t something a young girl could explain to her friends. Not if she wanted them to think she was sane.
“Momma, believe me, I didn’t meet my match.”
“Nonsense.” Lila waved a thin hand at her. “I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me what happened. Every detail. You must’ve made a mistake.”
“I didn’t make a mistake.” Bethany ground her teeth and glanced out the door at the empty hallway, then back at her mother. “The man you thought would be my true match turned out to be mixed up with bad people. Let’s just say, he wasn’t my type, okay?”
Faking Ever After with the Bodyguard: A Sweet Fake Romance Page 2