Material Witness

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Material Witness Page 8

by L. A. Mondello


  Jake pulled his hand from Cassie's, cursing himself inwardly for lingering there and for feelings just holding her hand stirred inside him.

  “You can hardly keep your eyes open.”

  “I told you, I'm fine.”

  “Don't give me that.”

  She dragged her seatbelt off and grabbed her overnight bag from the floor. She pulled out a little pillow that had flowers embroidered on it.

  “What’s this?”

  She shrugged shyly. “Whenever I travel I always bring this along. It makes sleeping in a strange bed less weird.”

  Cassie reached over and undid his seatbelt, then tucked the pillow into her lap.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I'm making you a comfortable bed. At least, as comfortable as I can make you in this car. You can’t sleep sitting up. This way you can stretch out a little. Come here, lay your head down on the pillow.”

  He did as he was told. The heat of her body against his shoulder seeped into him with the contact. The sweet scent of perfume drifted to him. No, it wasn't perfume, it was soap. The warm scent of lavender was what had been filling his head all afternoon in these cramped quarters, driving him insane.

  “We're going to be traveling on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a while, right?” Cassie asked the driver.

  “Yes, ma’am. You have about an hour.”

  Cassie looked down at Jake. “An hour is good. I’ll wake you up when we get there. Oh, wait, I have a blanket, too.”

  Reaching forward, she wrestled with her overnight bag. Her breast brushed against his cheek.

  Good Lord! “Let me get up,” he said.

  “No, I have it.” Gripping the edge of the blanket, which was half out of the bag, Cassie began pulling and then bouncing the bag up and down until it made a racket on the floor.

  Abruptly, she stopped pulling at the blanket and was silent. He glanced up at her as she leaned over the seat, her shoulders moving up and down slightly, and her hair swinging to and fro with the movement. The soft noise bubbling up from her throat sounded like…soft sobs.

  A smoldering fire burned the center of his chest and slowly spread outward, making it hard for him to breathe. Was she…crying?

  “Cassie?”

  She tilted her head then, just enough for her hair to swing away from her cheeks, and he saw the soft features of her face. She wasn't crying at all. She was laughing. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she was definitely laughing.

  “What's wrong?” he asked, completely dumbfounded and on the brink of hysteria himself.

  “The blanket is stuck,” she said, still laughing. He held on to the bag and she gave a quick yank. The light blanket pulled free.

  Throwing the blanket over him, she said, “This is so absurd.”

  “What is?”

  “This. Everything. You and me on the run like Bonnie and Clyde. Well, not quite like Bonnie and Clyde. We're on the run from bad guys instead of being the bad guys.”

  Her laughter faded and her face grew serious as she sighed. “I need to keep my head clear. I know how all this works. I've researched it. Written about it. But when I get frustrated about all that is happening, I forget. I just hate this sense of my world being out of control.”

  “Me, too.”

  She heaved another heavy sigh, her breast stretching the fabric of her shirt just a little to draw his gaze in that direction.

  “Starting now, I'm back on track. I promise.” She put her hand up as if she were taking an oath. “Now that you’re comfy, get some sleep.”

  “Are you always this bossy?” he asked, not able to keep the smile from stretching across his tired face. He was amazed at how good it felt to smile. He wasn't sure he had at all that day. If he had, he most surely was with Cassie when he did it.

  “I do my best, detective,” she said, giving him the most irresistible grin.

  He closed his eyes, but Jake found no release in sleep. Visions of the dead, shattered glass and screams invaded his mind, startling him awake just as he drifted off. He didn’t know if it was memories of the sweet smell of Cassie that made sleep impossible.

  #

  Chapter Six

  The mountain road leading to the safe house was ominously dark. Enough drizzle clung to the windshield to need the wipers, but not enough to keep the wipers from sticking to the windshield for lack of moisture. Instead, they made a crying sound that seemed to warn them of danger. Of what kind, Jake wasn't exactly sure.

  Now that they were almost at the safe house, Jake was thankful he’d had a little sleep behind him. He was equally thankful for his full belly due to Cassie's insistence a bunch of teenagers weren't going to recognize her and call the local papers if they went through the drive-through window of a fast food restaurant.

  He was glad for Cassie's impulsiveness.

  Agent Hogan pulled onto a dirt road just off the driveway leading to the safe house.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, looking at the two of them from the rear view mirror. “I need to stretch these legs.”

  An ancient mobile home set back from the road, almost hidden by a stand of trees at the bottom of the hill, came into view. At first glance, the unkempt trailer appeared to be deserted. But Jake knew that was just a diversion for the locals. From this vantage point, about a quarter mile from the safe house, the only road leading to and from the safe house could be monitored by state-of-the-art surveillance equipment located inside the trailer.

  “Is this it?” Cassie said, her face contorting into a grimace.

  Agent Hogan chuckled wryly. “This is the guard's station. Very inconspicuous. You’re going to be staying up on the top of the mountain.”

  “You mean, people actually live in this place?”

  She was studying the tattered shell of the mobile home just as she had been scoping the crowded bar. Jake knew in an instant, Cassie was storing the information away for later use in one of her crime books.

  “I assure you, as bad as it looks on the outside, it's state of the art inside,” Agent Hogan said. “And very comfortable for anyone who has to spend any amount of time in there.”

  She chuckled nervously. “I'm glad it won't be me.”

  Hogan jammed the car into park. He left the engine running and opened the door. “You’ll be staying up on the hill. It’s much bigger. Just sit tight for a minute. I need to check in with the guard on duty.”

  “Not to worry,” she murmured as he closed the door.

  Agent Hogan met another man halfway to the door. The man looked at the car and then walked over to them. Jake rolled down the window and introduced himself.

  “Agent Bellows,” the man said, shaking Jake’s hand. “I thought you'd never get here.”

  Hogan arched his back and grimaced. “We hit traffic through the city.”

  Agent Bellows got in the car and shifted it into gear. He turned to Jake and Cassie. “I’m going to bring you two up to the house. I’ve already done a check and it’s well stocked for you. You should be comfortable.”

  “What about Agent Hogan?” Cassie asked. “He didn’t eat anything while he was driving.”

  “It was a long drive. I thought I’d let him use the bathroom and grab a bite down here while I take you two up.”

  “I appreciate that,” Cassie said.

  They drove up the narrow road toward the house. When they arrived, they got out of the car.

  Bellows handed Jake the keys to the house. “Give me a call when you're secure.”

  Jake just stared at him. “You aren't going in with us?”

  Bellows shook his head. “The lady is the one who said she didn't want agents hovering over her, and Agent Tate wants to keep her happy. Besides, we already did a sweep of the house less than fifteen minutes ago, and we've been watching ever since. You got a fully stocked kitchen that should last you a week. The guards down the hill will be checking in with you and doing a check of the grounds at least twice a day. Agents Tate and Radcowski will be here tomorro
w to do a more formal briefing once they’re finished in Providence. I want to do a quick walk around the perimeter. I’ll wait to make sure you’re both inside before I head back down.”

  When Bellows disappeared into the darkness behind the house, Jake said, “You okay?” One glance at her, and Jake realized she was anything but. Her hands were bunched up in front of her if she were clenching her fists and her dark brown eyes suddenly looked like a cat caught by a pack of wild dogs.

  “Hey?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Agent Bellows said they’d be checking in with us periodically so make sure you have a robe on if you’re walking through the house. You don’t want any strange men catching you in your pajamas.”

  “Except you.”

  She peered up at him, about to say something, but didn't. She had the strangest look on her face that made him want to reach out and touch her. Her dark lashes dipped, hiding the fatigue in her eyes. He didn't have to see her face in the light to know she was blushing. The image of her cheeks turning crimson last night at the bar was still imprinted in his brain, causing havoc with his peace of mind in cataclysmic proportion.

  “You were the one who insisted on having me here,” he said in a low voice.

  “I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that there was going to be at least one man seeing me in my…” She drew in a shallow breath and shook her head slightly. “Never mind. I don't know what I meant.”

  She started laughing, and Jake couldn't help but feel lightheaded by the sound of her voice.

  “You've had the privilege of catching me first thing in the morning in my pj's, but this is going to be a first for me. Seeing you, I mean.”

  He cocked his head to one side, silently questioning whether he should confess. “I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm not the pajama type.”

  Her reaction was exactly as he'd anticipated. She sucked in a deep breath and held it. When she finally let it out, she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and averted her gaze. But not before he saw the flames of desire burst to life in her dark eyes.

  He'd been thinking the same. The thought of sleeping with Cassie's naked body pressed against his was torture. What made it more tortuous was the fact it would never be reality.

  “Well, are we going to go inside where it's warm, or are we going to continue to stand outside in the rain?” she asked.

  Jake lifted his face to the black sky and felt cold moisture misting his face. Yes, it was still drizzling lightly. Not enough to cool him down though, which is probably why he hadn't bothered to notice.

  Cassie followed behind him to the back of the sedan. After popping the trunk, he pulled out her laptop computer and a suitcase, handing them to her.

  “I'll get the rest and meet you in front of the house. Drop the bags on the porch and wait for me.”

  Jake dug into the trunk for his overnight bag and the bigger suitcase Cassie had packed. When she didn’t move, he turned to her.

  “If it’s all the same, I’ll wait for you,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Cassie. They told us, this place was checked less than half an hour ago. My walk through will just be more out of curiosity than anything. Once I check the rooms over and get all the bags inside, I'll lock up tight and call in to Agent Bellows at the station.”

  She nodded nervously. “Okay, but I'm going to be your shadow. So don't get jumpy.”

  Nerves were getting the best of her, he decided. It had been a long twenty-four hours and he guessed that neither one of them would fully relax until they were settled. Better to get that done sooner rather than later.

  “Are you getting bossy with me again?” he said, hoping she'd take his teasing good-naturedly and finally begin to calm down.

  He dropped the bags on the porch and unlocked the door. The way she clung to his back as he opened the door, as if he was the last hold on earth to her peace of mind, gave him his answer. She was terrified.

  The soft glow of light from the kitchen in the back of the house shined beams across the deep-pile living room rug. Jake reached up and skimmed his hand against the smooth-papered wall to find the light switch. When he did, he flicked it on and bright light filled the open room.

  This safe house was called a cottage, but one look and it was obvious it was anything but. The living room was square and wide with a cream sofa and settee propped in the center of the room. Against the inside wall stood a full oak-paneled entertainment unit. A cushioned window seat in a floral design sat between a row of bookcases resting against the far wall. The living room was open to the kitchen area, filled with brightly shined stainless steel appliances and a white and gray marble countertop that gleamed under the track lighting above.

  The FBI had taken pains to make the safe house comfortable. Jake knew that equal pains had been taken to hide the state-of-the-art equipment meant for keeping both “clients” and agents comfortable and secure for a dangerously long time.

  He squashed down the feeling of being impressed and went about searching the rest of the house. Cassie held tight to his heels at every turn. He could feel the heat of her behind him as he moved, heard each little burst of breath as she remembered to breathe. And she was literally on his heels when she plowed into his leather jacket and stepped on the back of his boot.

  He'd felt it, but he knew she felt the connection between his hard boot-heel and the toe of her canvas sneakers more.

  “Ouch,” she muttered softly as they moved on through the kitchen.

  “You don't have to follow that close.”

  She did it again.

  Jake spun around. “Cassie, the lights are on and no one, but us, is here,” he said delicately. “I know you're nervous, but I assure you, here, more than anywhere else, you'll be safe.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but quickly clamped it shut.

  The sound of the car engine firing up drew Jake’s attention to the window. He quickly walked over to the window and peered outside. Red taillights bounced down the driveway toward the road.

  “Agent Bellows has finished his perimeter check. See? All clear.”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Cassie pointed down the hallway. “Shouldn't you have checked the coat closet?”

  Jake heaved an exasperated sigh, knowing his unrest was fueled by fatigue more than frustration.

  He peered down at the delicate features of her face. As it had last night, the small beauty mark to the side of her full lips teased him. He'd wondered last night if she'd purposely put it there for show. Now, seeing her cleanly scrubbed face and creamy complexion, he knew for sure that it was something nature had blessed her with, a true mark of beauty.

  He needed some distance from this woman, and the only way he'd get that was when they were both locked in their own bedrooms for the night. Deciding the quickest way to achieve that would be to appease her, he gripped the doorknob of the coat closet at the entry of the hallway and yanked it open.

  “See? No Bogey Monster in there,” he said, trying to keep the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth from showing.

  Cassie knotted her arms across her puffed-out chest and glared at him.

  “In one of my books—the one I was telling you about at the station—there was a gunman waiting for the agent in the coat closet.”

  “How'd he get in?”

  “He strangled the guard.”

  Jake glanced at Cassie over his shoulder. “Do you really think it was such good therapy for you to write crime novels?”

  Straightening her spine, she sputtered, “Of course.”

  “I think you were right last night. You have an overactive imagination.”

  Jake checked the remaining rooms while Cassie stayed rooted behind in the hallway, fuming. He might have imagined it, but he thought he'd actually seen steam rise from her head.

  “Are you done making fun of me yet?” she called out as he checked the last room.

  Jake peered at her face and that nagging emotion
welled inside. His heartbeat hammered in his ear just seeing her vulnerability, making it hard for him to breathe.

  “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just tired.”

  She hesitated for a moment, looking at the floor, the door and then at his face. “Did you check the closets in the bedroom?”

  He had to keep himself from laughing. Bogey Monsters aside, Cassie was right about one thing. Everything about this whole situation was absurd. Here he was, Mr. Keep-Yourself-Detached, looking at an incredibly beautiful, sensual woman, and he was supposed to keep her safe?

  What the hell was he thinking? And Lord have mercy, that was just the problem. He was thinking way too much about how much he wanted to take Cassie to bed when he should be staying focused on the job he was sent here to do.

  In all the years he'd been on the force, all the women he'd ever known who'd come and gone from his life, he never had trouble keeping himself detached and focused on his work. A mere twenty-four lousy hours with this tiresome woman, and he was forgetting all he'd worked so hard to achieve. He couldn't keep his mind focused on anything except the way her bottom lip jutted out just slightly when she pouted. Or the way her laughter bubbled up inside her.

  How Cassie could even laugh at all, given the situation they faced, was beyond him. But she did. And every time her lips spread into a slow smile, Jake's mind went into a complete nuclear meltdown. All he wanted was to crush her soft, tiny body against his and kiss her until he couldn't breathe, until the rest of his body found the release that would make all the craziness he felt inside make sense.

  He needed to stop this madness right now. As attracted as he was to Cassie, there was absolutely no way he was taking this woman to bed.

  “I think maybe we should go to bed, ah, get some sleep.”

 

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