The certainty in Marisa’s tone took Josie aback. The woman was acting as if she knew what Evan wanted and needed better than he did.
“He doesn’t want to. He wants to do something else.”
Marisa didn’t turn around but Josie could see her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “He’s confused right now but the one thing he’s good at is being a lawman. He’ll come back as long as people don’t encourage this mid-life crisis bullshit. You’re not doing him any good, you know, by promoting this bum life he’s been living lately.”
This woman didn’t have a clue. She’d spent years as his partner and Josie had spent less than two weeks with Evan but she already knew he wasn’t going back. He’d moved on in his mind and heart. That part of his life was done and over.
Josie could go on and on about what a talented writer he was or how handy he was around the house but she didn’t. Marisa was living in a fantasy of her own making and nothing Josie said was going to change her mind. Only time would tell the real truth.
The rest of the ride was silent and Marisa drove them into a parking garage somewhere in downtown Tampa. She put the SUV in park and twisted around in her seat to face Josie who was having a hard time breathing in and out now that they had arrived. She was going to be questioned, and based on that the DA would decide if she was telling the truth. Everything was at stake and the next few hours would be crucial to her future.
“Are you ready? The DA is upstairs waiting.”
Josie simply nodded because it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. It was happening.
Denial? Not an option.
Chapter Thirty
Evan shifted impatiently in the passenger seat of the SUV. Seth was driving and Reed and Dare were in the back seat on the way to Tampa. Evan was hoping he’d be allowed to see Josie before she was questioned and maybe – just maybe, if he could swing it – he would sit in. He knew the men and the women in the District Attorney’s office well although Washington D.C. had jurisdiction in reality. If it were locals he had a better than average chance to convince them it would be a good idea for him to be in the room when they talked to her. He’d be able to hold her hand and keep her calm.
But who was going to keep him calm? Frankly, since Josie had announced that she was turning herself in he’d been a mess. On one hand he was grateful that she loved him enough to sacrifice herself but dammit, his job was to protect her from just this situation. He’d failed spectacularly.
Whatever his former partners faults, he did trust Marisa to try to keep Josie safe while in custody so that was some comfort. It wouldn’t be enough, however, until he could see the woman he loved with his own two eyes.
While he didn’t have a clue what his future held he knew she had to be in it.
“We’ll be there in about fifteen,” Seth interrupted Evan’s thoughts. “Do you want to go straight there or do we need to stop at the attorney’s office?”
With his inside contacts, Evan had secured one of the best criminal lawyers in the state. On such short notice it had taken some doing but he’d called in every favor owed.
“He’s meeting us there.”
“She’s not under arrest,” Dare added, obviously trying to lighten the mood. The whole drive had been about as happy as a funeral. “Not really. It’s just questioning. When she tells her story, they may just let her go, especially if she has some high-powered, high-priced lawyer by her side.”
“It does help but there’s so much I don’t know,” Evan sighed. “Who is going to do the questioning? Are the D.C. police here? Will they hold her until they are? Shit, will Marisa even get to be there to keep an eye on Josie? This is the one moment I hate being a civilian.”
“Will she keep you informed?” Dare asked. “She seemed pretty frosty at the house. I kind of got the feeling she wasn’t super fond of Josie. Maybe I’m crazy but she appeared to be jealous.”
Evan shook his head. “No way. It was always casual between us.”
But he’d been thinking that perhaps Marisa had been more involved than he’d given her credit for. At the very least, she didn’t like change and Evan moving on to another woman wouldn’t sit well.
Reed chuckled as he stared out of the window. “It was casual for you, but was it casual for her? Maybe she has more feelings for you than she let on. Seeing you loving up on another woman might just put her in a nasty mood. Remind her of the past.”
“She said she’d take care of Josie.”
Although now that Evan thought about it, Marisa had been acting strangely these last few months, constantly trying to talk him back to the Marshal Service.
“Yep, because every woman loves taking care of her ex-boyfriends girlfriend,” Dare observed. “Even if she didn’t have loving feelings for you she might not be all that thrilled about her babysitter role. Is Marisa the soft-hearted, caring type?”
“Fuck no,” Evan admitted with a groan. What he knew about the fairer sex could fit on the head of a pin. Relationships weren’t his forte. “She’s all business and all about the job. Ambitious as hell too. Shit, I thought the whole friends with benefits thing was too good to be true.”
Thank God, Josie had taken pity on him and loved him because he knew zero about females.
“It always is,” Seth laughed. “It sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? Sex. No strings. No feelings. Except that there’s another human being involved and you can’t control them. They could end up hating you or loving you. Which one do you think fits here?”
Good question. Maybe a little of both. Neither one boded well for Marisa treating Josie well.
“Not sure but let’s kick it up a notch. We need to get there and see if I can talk my way in. I need to make sure Josie is okay.”
And that meant back home with him.
* * * *
The girl was terrified.
Marisa sat next to Josie and could almost feel the younger woman vibrating with pure terror. Her skin was pasty white and a sheen of sweat had broken out over her forehead when Marisa had cuffed her to the table. She had to give the girl credit, though. She’d been incredibly strong the entire way here but this was where the rubber met the road. She swore up and down she was innocent but now that she had to actually tell her story…
One thing had been a surprise and that was the DA wasn’t present in the room. Instead, two FBI agents sat across the table looking decidedly tame, almost friendly, when Josie sat down. They’d asked her if she wanted a soda or if she was hungry. They had even inquired as to the temperature in the room. Looked like they were going for the “I’m your best friend” interrogation technique.
“Good afternoon, Miss Carlton.” The older agent with salt and pepper hair spoke first while the younger man sorted through a stack of files. “My name is Agent Stokes and this is Agent Harrison. We’re from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Finally the questioning would begin and Evan would find out that this little girl wasn’t nearly as innocent and naive as she appeared to be. Where there was smoke, there was fire. She was involved in all of this somehow, someway. Marisa would relish telling Evan all the details.
“We’re relieved to see that you’re safe,” Agent Stokes continued. “The people after you can be very dangerous. It looks like you know how to handle yourself in a crisis.”
Wait. Something wasn’t right. They were praising Josie? Was this more interrogation bullshit?
The younger woman also seemed shocked by the turn of events. She’d stopped shaking in her chair but tears had welled up in her eyes as she leaned across the table as far as the handcuffs would allow.
“I didn’t kill Amy. She was my friend and like a sister to me. I would never hurt her.”
Right. Sure. You’re completely innocent.
Agent Harrison finally looked up and nodded. “We know. The ballistics came back days ago and matched a gun used in another murder from three years ago. We already had a suspect for that crime although we haven’t been able to
make the case. We’re hoping you can help.”
Marisa couldn’t believe her ears. She must have misunderstood.
Josie, on the other hand, burst into tears, sobs wracking her body as what was probably pure relief coursed through her. Apparently she thought she was home free.
But she was still in cuffs.
Stokes stood and rounded the table, patting Josie on the shoulder while Harrison rushed out of the room bellowing to someone in the hall. When he came back in, he had a box of tissues and he pulled up several, pressing them into Josie’s hands. When she tried to blow her nose, they realized she was cuffed to the table.
“Please get these cuffs off of Miss Carlton’s wrists,” Stokes barked impatiently, stepping aside as another FBI agent brought in a can of soda and some snacks. “Miss Carlton? Why don’t you take a moment to gather yourself and then have a drink or a bite to eat.”
Unlocking the cuffs, Marisa stepped back to survey the scene in front of her that had taken such a one hundred and eighty degree turn. “Why is the FBI involved? And why did the D.C. police have a warrant out for her if they didn’t think she was guilty?”
Josie dabbed at her cheeks and sniffled loudly.
Disgusting.
“I’d like to know that too. I thought you wanted to put me behind bars and throw away the key.”
Both agents sat back down but Harrison answered the question. “And we’re sorry about that. Very sorry. We couldn’t tip our hand to the real people we wanted that we were on to them. We were also concerned about your safety. If they killed your friend, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, Miss Carlton.”
“That’s what I figured. That’s why I ran.”
“Very effectively,” replied Stokes with a smile. “But we really do need to talk to you. You may have information that can help us put some bad men behind bars.”
Marisa had had about all she could stand. She hated being completely ignored and these men had barely glanced at her. “You didn’t answer my question. Why is the FBI involved?”
Before the agents could reply, the door swung open – again – and Harker Prentiss stood in the doorway. One of the preeminent attorneys in the area, he exuded money and confidence and both were on display today from his Armani suit to his Christian Louboutin black leather loafers. Despite the trappings of wealth and success, he resembled a surfer with his blond hair, blue eyes, and golden tan. She’d heard he owned a yacht out of Clearwater Marina.
“Sorry I’m late. Hi Josie, I’m your attorney.” He shook Josie’s hand, and then the agents’ hands and then finally Marisa’s, although his brow had quirked slightly when he saw her sitting in what would normally be his chair. He probably wanted her to move. Fuck him. “Traffic. I have the paperwork and I looked it over on the way. Seems straightforward.”
“Paperwork?” Josie asked faintly, her fingers wringing together. “Do I have to sign something?”
“No, no, no,” Prentiss said with a smile. “They just sent over the case file for me to review. They’d like to talk to you today to see what you know about your friend Amy and her business and personal dealings and then you can go. I’ll be right by your side the entire time. How does that sound?”
Like crap. This entire day had gone to shit. Evan would be cuddling with his little princess by nightfall.
Josie buried her face in her hands and a few more sobs escaped before she wiped her nose again and smiled.
“That sounds amazingly wonderful. Does Evan know?”
Jesus, she’s crying. Again.
“My assistant will be giving him a call. Now I’m sure you want to get this over with so you can leave. So let’s get started, shall we?” Prentiss turned his attention to Marisa who was sitting there, her temper almost at a boil. “Do you mind? I think you’re in my chair.”
Swallowing down the bile that had gathered in her throat, Marisa stood on shaky legs and moved toward the door, not giving Josie even a glance. The little redhead led a charmed life, apparently. She was free and she’d managed to get the guy too.
Isn’t she special?
“If you need me–” Marisa began but Stokes cut her off immediately.
“We won’t. We’ve got this handled. If you see Mr. Davis just let him know that he can take Miss Carlton home when we’re done here. We’ll be sending along a few agents for her protection as well until this is over.”
Thoroughly and humiliatingly dismissed, Marisa rounded on her heel and stalked off to her desk where she dug through a drawer looking for the cigarettes she only allowed herself to smoke every now and then. If today wasn’t a candidate for at least two, she didn’t know what was.
Getting Evan back into her career, life, and bed was further away than ever and Josie stood firmly in the way.
Chapter Thirty-One
Josie was almost sick with relief and she sagged in the chair, her hands wrapped around the soda can so she had something – anything – to hold onto. This meeting had taken on a surreal quality that she still didn’t quite believe but the men were so friendly and nice it didn’t appear that they were trying to trap her into confessing or incriminating herself in any way. Plus she had her attorney right next to her and he seemed completely at ease.
She had questions. A bunch of them.
“So you knew that I didn’t shoot Amy,” she began, wanting to hear more. She’d watched enough true crime shows on cable to know what ballistics meant but how did they know she didn’t kill that other person three years ago? “Because of the bullet.”
Stokes nodded and pulled a file from the pile near his partner before sliding it in front of her. “I think we should start at the beginning. The FBI has had an active investigation open on former Senator Lydell for quite some time. William Connaught worked for us.”
That name took Josie aback. “Billy? He’s a freelance reporter for an online political magazine.”
He was also Amy’s boyfriend.
“That was his cover but he was actually investigating the senator. That’s how he came into possession of the recording.”
She was being slapped around by one surprise after another. “You know about the recording?”
It was Harrison who answered. “We do, although we haven’t seen it yet. Billy sent us a message about it. Do you still have it?”
Josie shook her head, hoping she wasn’t in trouble. “We gave it to a reporter hoping that its release would make them stop chasing me. Does that mess everything up?”
“It changes our strategy but we can deal with it. We thought you might release it to the press and honestly were surprised we hadn’t seen it yet.”
“She said she had to authenticate it,” Josie said, her head still reeling as she took in the details. Billy was a Fed, not a reporter. “So Billy gave Amy the recording. Why? Was his life in danger too? Is he okay?”
Harrison rubbed at his temples, his naturally pale skin taking on a ruddy pallor. She instantly knew Billy wasn’t fine. “Agent Connaught’s body was found about a week ago in an alley in Washington D.C. He died from a close-range gunshot wound to the head. The same gun that killed your friend Amy, by the way. Another item that cleared your name. You weren’t in D.C. at the time so you couldn’t have done it. We think Connaught was meeting with his inside man and was made. He was extremely upset about his girlfriend and about you. He was trying to bring the case to a conclusion. He felt guilty that he’d stashed the jump drive with her thinking they’d never know, but he was being watched. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
That sounded like the Billy she knew. A good hardworking guy who adored Amy with everything in him. But tragic that he was gone as well. He and Amy had had plans about the future – marriage, kids, a house. They weren’t going to get to do anything like that. Tears pricked at her eyes again and she blinked to hold them back. She was damn sick and tired of crying and feeling like the world was falling in. She was tired of feeling like a victim.
“Although I have an idea as to why you wer
e investigating the senator after seeing the recording, that doesn’t seem like a case the FBI would be interested in. Is there something more?”
Harrison turned to a page in the file and pointed to a photograph of Lydell with several other men. “Actually, the recording has very little to do with our investigation. It just shows that he’s not a nice, honest man. What we’ve been investigating him for is complex but to simplify it I’ll say that Lydell is a suspect in several white collar crimes such as money laundering, which the FBI is always interested in. He has friends in Afghanistan who broker the poppy crops and he helps hook them up with people who can make the profits from the international drug trade clean, so to speak. The investigation became a much bigger deal when rumors began that he might be appointed to a cabinet position.”
Josie took a calming sip of the soda before formulating her next question. Delicately. “So what happens now? The recording is going to be out there soon so I’m guessing his hopes for an appointment will be over, but then what? Are you going to arrest him? It sounds like you have evidence.”
Harrison fiddled with the folder, closing it and added it back on the stack of files. “We can’t comment on that either. What we can do is keep you safe until the recording is made public. We believe at that point they won’t have any reason to come after you.”
“You believe?” Josie echoed. “That sounds kind of wishy-washy. Do they know that I’ve given the recording to the press? Are you going to make some sort of announcement?”
“We don’t announce the news before it is news,” Stokes remarked with a shake of his head. “And as far as we know, they don’t know anyone else has it. The chatter we’ve intercepted is focused solely on you.”
Oh goody.
“And that chatter says they want to kill me?”
She might as well just state the obvious. They’d carefully skirted the subject but she knew how screwed she was.
Harrison exhaled slowly, scratching at his chin like he had a bug bite. She’d made him nervous. He must not like to talk about future assassinations. “We’re not going to let that happen. You’re already protected by a former US Marshal according to Mr. Prentiss. We’ll add to that security detail a few agents of our own.”
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