“Thanks.” What he needed was to take a piss. His need to hear what these two pricks had to say overwhelmed the other urge so he reached for the cup and sat down on the foot of the bed. “How long have you had someone watching me?”
Richards and Johnson glanced at each other as if they had expected their appearance to be a total surprise. He wasn’t surprised at all. Annoyed, pissed even, but not surprised. He turned up the cup. The coffee was hot and black. He flinched at the welcome burn. Caffeine was something else he needed badly right now.
Richards spoke first. His years of experience showed on his face in deep lines and around his middle in a spare tire. The suit was a little less perfect than his partner’s, the shoes a little less shiny. “That girl you harassed, Riley Fallon, filed a complaint with campus security. But everyone understands that you’re upset about your niece so they’re willing to overlook that one misstep as long as it doesn’t happen again.”
Tony was on the same page now, though he doubted Fallon had worked up her nerve to file a complaint. Most likely they’d encouraged her to do so. These two knuckleheads had likely questioned her right after he did for no other reason than to find out what he was up to. “Surely you understand.” He played along. “I’m only trying to find my niece.”
“We get that,” Richards said, “but we need you to stay out of the way on this investigation, LeDoux. You no longer serve or represent the Bureau. Unless you want a shit storm raining down on you, you need to cease representing yourself that way.”
Tony downed more of the coffee in hopes of relaxing the tense muscles around his skull. “You got a younger sister or a daughter, Richards?” He glanced at the other man. “Johnson?”
Johnson shook his head. He looked to be about thirty. Medium height, lean. Black hair, high and tight. Freshly laundered, off-the-rack suit, shoes polished to a high sheen. “Not me.”
“You know the law, LeDoux,” Richards said. “Let’s not play games here. Chief Phelps passed along the information you gave him and we appreciate it. From this moment forward, you need to stay on the outside of the investigation with your sister and her husband. We’re happy to get your input but we can’t have you poking around in the investigation.”
“If it happens again,” Johnson spoke up, “they’ll make us bring you in. We don’t want to do that. I’m certain your sister would be very upset if that happened.”
“Point taken.” Tony finished off the coffee and stood. “Now, if you fellows will let yourselves out I need a shower.”
Johnson’s mouth quirked. “Be careful, LeDoux, a chick that hot might be more trouble than you need right now.”
Richards laughed. “Sounds like you’ve had enough trouble with hot chicks lately.”
Tony ignored their smart-ass remarks and followed the two to the door. “Anything new on the case?”
Richards hesitated on the porch. “Not a damned thing.”
Just once he’d like to hear that his instincts were wrong. Tony watched until the two agents had loaded up in their nondescript sedan and driven away. Going forward he would be on the lookout for a tail. He closed the door and turned back to the bed. His cute reporter had sneaked out on him. Funny, he was the one who usually played that role.
A note on the bedside table drew him there. He picked up the folded piece of bed-and-breakfast letterhead.
Call me. I have a few ideas on these abductions. I added my number to your contacts. Carrie
At least now he knew her name. He shoved the note into the pocket of his jeans. She wouldn’t be interested in hearing from him when she found out he had no intention of sharing anything he learned with a reporter.
He surveyed the floor in search of his shoes, then hesitated. Yesterday was the first time his current status had really bothered him. When his sister and niece needed him most he wasn’t in the position to help them the way he wanted.
You fucked up, Tony.
Funny how doing the right thing sometimes cost you everything. He forced the idea away. Time for that shower and a shave and then he would get back on the trail of Miles Conway. He grabbed his overnight bag and started for the bathroom. A soft knock on the door stopped him.
“Damn it.” He tossed the bag on the bed and strode to the door expecting to see Angie with a breakfast tray or maybe his Bureau buddies had forgotten something. Instead he found the mystery woman from last night. Carrie.
“I thought you might be hungry. I woke up starving.” She shoved a bag and a tray with two paper cups toward him.
She wore the same body-hugging cream-colored dress she’d had on last night, the enormous leather bag still draped over one shoulder.
“Sorry.” Her gaze lingered on the coffee cup he’d abandoned on the table. “Looks like you already had something.” She shrugged. “I guess I should have just kept going when I left.” She drew the bag and tray away from him. “I meant to, but I just kept thinking—”
He took her by the arm and pulled her inside, cutting off whatever else she would have said. When he’d closed the door, he stared at her for long enough to have her squirming. “Carrie? That’s your name?”
She nodded. “Look, if you don’t want breakfast, I can leave now.”
What he wanted was not in the bag she carried. “I’m starving.”
She relaxed. “Great.”
Before he could say more she ducked around him and went to the table. Every time she reached across the table the dress slid upward giving a fleeting glimpse of her lacy panties. Tony drew in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. For all he knew she could be the someone the Bureau had watching him.
At this point he trusted no one.
“Ham or sausage?” She held up the wrapped sandwiches from the bag.
“Sausage.”
“Good. I hate sausage.” She put the sandwich on the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. “Excuse me if I don’t wait for you.”
He walked toward her, watching her every move. She tore the wrapper from the sandwich and bit into it. She closed her eyes and moaned. He pulled out the chair across from her just as she licked her lips.
“I know it’s not good for my body, but fast food tastes so good.”
He reached for his own sandwich. “Something’s gotta kill you.”
She laughed. “True.”
The conversation lulled as they ate. The way she devoured the sandwich, licked her lips and seemed to make love to the coffee cup with her mouth fascinated him. The idea that he got hard just watching her was seriously fucked-up, particularly under the circumstances.
She balled the paper and her napkin and tossed it in the bag. “There’s something I want to show you—if I can really trust you.”
He wadded his napkin and dumped it in the bag with hers. “I thought we played that game last night.”
“Haha.” She took a breath. “I almost lost my nerve. That’s why I left without saying goodbye, but then—” she moistened her lips “—I realized that if I couldn’t trust you, maybe I couldn’t trust anyone and that won’t work. I can’t do this alone.”
“I’m listening.”
She pushed the breakfast remains aside, reached into her bag and removed what looked like a photo album. She placed it on the table. “This is a scrapbook I’ve been keeping for a while. Have a look at it while I use your shower.”
Bag in hand, she disappeared into the bathroom but didn’t close the door. He opened the scrapbook to the first page.