gather. In the meantime, while you are attending your meetings, preparing your various reports for each and every level of government trying to cover its ass, I will be gathering real information. From the only source that counts, the streets.”
She gave Chief Burton a frosty smile. She tapped on the table, a harsh rasping sound as if to get his attention. The huge man looked as if he didn’t dare look away.
“Tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. I’ll be back. Please have a list of the men who worked undercover with Anthony. I need their telephone numbers and email addresses. I also want all the reports that have been turned in to date, along with transcriptions of interviews with any and all witnesses.” She dropped her folio in her large canvas bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Oh, and I want a copy of the full autopsy report.”
Agent Gardner and the chief rose to their feet at the same time. Clearly flustered, the chief protested, “Now, listen here, young lady, you know very well we can’t give out that kind of information to a private citizen. This is an ongoing investigation.”
Alexis lifted her chin and said in a haughty voice. “Really? I understood from your letter that your investigation is at a dead end.” Before he could answer, she turned and walked toward the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she seared him with one last glare.
“Whatever you don’t give me, Chief Burton, I will find on my own.”
Agent Gardner moved quickly to the door.
“Alexis, wait, please. I will see you out.”
Lexie frowned, annoyed and surprised that he called her by her first name. The familiarity rankled. Clearly he was accustomed to issuing orders – even if they came dressed in southern chivalry.
She tossed her head and slanted him a glare as cold as those she’d showered on the chief of police for the previous hour.
“Don’t bother. I saw myself in. I can see myself out.”
He reached around her and opened the door, enclosing her between the door and his huge body. Looming over her, he took hold of her elbow and led her into the hallway. Pulling the door behind them, he said with a slight chuckle, “Grandmothers and all that.”
When the door closed, he turned to her with a serious expression.
“Alexis, I want to talk with you. Do you have time to come to my office? It is just around the corner.”
Lexie shook her head and stepped away. His presence was overwhelming. This big man made her nervous. Without dwelling on it, she knew it was his uniform. He wore the ACU camouflage that Anthony used to wear. The green beret visible in his pants pocket said it all. From the steely-eyed way he looked at her, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to push him around the way she had the chief. Unlike the police chief, Agent Gardner was quietly confident, not the least intimidated by her. He was looking at her, as if he had something important to say. It frightened her.
She wanted to leave. The meeting had taken its toll. The references to Anthony, hearing his name spoken by people she didn’t know, people she didn’t want to know, was painful. Each time she heard his name, the reality hit her, a physical blow. Anthony was dead. And tomorrow she would look at his personal things, his autopsy report. The experience with the eight men had shaken her foundation. She’d managed to put on a good act. But she could tell from the way her legs were shaking that she only had minutes before the panic flared. She needed air. Or to run. Anything to leave this building where death was a common topic of conversation, where grief stricken people sat in ugly metal chairs waiting to talk with the men and women who faced death and grief too often to let it affect them.
She glanced up to see Agent Gardner looking at her through narrowed eyes, knowing eyes. The kindness in his expression unnerved her, threatened her shaky reserves. It took her a moment to remember his question. He wanted to talk to her. Keep her longer, to talk about Anthony.
“No, I… I can’t. I need to leave now.” She stumbled as she backed away, and muttered to herself, “these damn high heels.”
He caught her arm, steadying her, and nodded as if he understood.
“I see.”
When she jerked away from his grasp, he added, “How about tomorrow when you come to pick up the things you requested from Chief Burton?”
Remembering the flustered police chief’s response to her outrageous demands, she gave a soft snort, “If he’ll give them to me.”
“I’ll see that he gives you everything that he’s allowed to give.”
Surprised at his calm acceptance of her demands, she murmured, “Thank you.”
His quiet certainty reassured her and disturbed her at the same time. This was a man accustomed to commanding. Strong men and women did what he told them to do and didn’t ask questions. She wondered what happened to his quiet authority when someone – someone like her—bucked his requests. When she looked up at him, she saw he had not moved. He regarded her solemnly, as if he was drilling down, beneath the hard shell she kept tightly sheathed around her.
“Tomorrow, then?”
She took another step backward, glancing over her shoulder at the exit that seemed far down the hallway. His knowing look threatened her –and annoyed her.
“I don’t know. It depends on how the meeting goes with the chief. And… my schedule, what else I have going on...”
She couldn’t believe the way that her voice trailed off. God, had she actually stammered? What was wrong with her? What was it about him that was so unsettling? Of all the people she had met in this hideous place, he was the kindest, the most competent. He actually could help her. But there was something about him that disturbed her. He would demand things of her in return, more than she was willing to give. He would want to know her, know what she was thinking, worm his way under the reserves it had taken her a lifetime to construct.
His quiet response broke through her jumbled reverie.
“I see.”
Then just as she knew in her gut that he would, he pressed, wanted more.
“I’m curious, Alexis. Have you ever read an autopsy report?”
She closed her eyes to shut out the gruesome memories. When she opened them he was frowning at her, his concern apparent. She looked him in the eye.
“I’ve seen my share of dead bodies, Agent Gardner. Does that count?”
“Jake.”
She frowned. “What?”
“The name’s Jake.”
Chapter 3
Jake watched her walk down the hallway. Even in those outrageous high heels, she had the loose animal grace of a sensuous cat on the prowl. Her long slender legs in the short skirt hovering several inches above her knees scored a second look from every man in the hallway. Their perusal didn’t stop at her legs. Her bright red suit in a sea of grey and brown showcased her curvy hips and high full breasts, capturing admiring glances and appreciative grins.
He remembered Anthony telling him that his sister was a martial artist. He saw it in her bearing, her fierceness. He shook his head, remembering the way she cowed that roomful of men. Hardened cops, military grunts like himself. He smiled, wondering when the chief would recover from the dressing down he’d received from the beautiful young woman half his size and half his age.
And, damn, she was beautiful. She reminded Jake of her brother. Anthony had been a strikingly handsome man. His sister was stunning. Her hair was streaked with myriad shades of blond, like sunlight skimming a golden
