ELEVEN
Savannah
"A word, Savannah," Agent Barrett Kingston says and gestures for me to get up from my desk and follow him.
I got into work late this morning after packing my belongings from the apartment where I was undercover. The suitcases are shoved into a closet down the hall. I didn't want to show up any later since I'm no longer working on the case.
Anton saw to that when he figured out who I was and that I was undercover.
I stop typing my report, hit the keys to save and stand from my desk, approaching my boss. "Yes, sir?"
"Interesting turn of events," he says somewhat cryptically.
Am I supposed to guess what he's talking about? Is it about me showing up at the office this morning? I knew my cover was at risk with Madisyn coming to the club.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Anton showed up downstairs and turned himself in to the authorities."
He didn't.I gasp and glance behind me. Our interrogation room is empty; I haven't seen anyone else wander inside. "Where is he being held?" I ask.
"Fourth floor."
I roll my lips together. I want to see him. "Is he talking?" Will Anton tell them that he slept with an FBI Agent and figured out I was undercover? That's the one secret I've kept from my supervisors, though it wouldn't surprise me if Kingston or Lexington had suspicions. I made it known that I didn't want cameras in my apartment.
"Says he'll only talk to you."
I take in a sharp breath. The last time we talked, I had a gun to my head. Although he didn't shoot me, he certainly wasn't elated when he discovered the truth.
"And you want me to conduct the interview?" I ask, glancing up at Barrett.
"You know him. You've spent time with him. If he's here to lead us on a wild goose chase, then who better to know if he's playing us."
"You give me a lot of credit, sir." I follow Barrett to the elevator and head down to the fourth floor. More holding cells and interrogation rooms are on this level than any other.
He leads me down the corridor and opens the door, letting me inside the interrogation room. Barrett accompanies me, standing by the door.
Does he think I need protection?
"I want to talk to her alone," Anton says.
He's seated at the metal table. No handcuffs. He's not legally being detained. We don't have any evidence to arrest him. I failed at my mission, but only because he figured out who I was before I could gather anything damning.
"It's fine," I say, assuring Kingston that I can handle Anton alone.
"I'll be right outside," Kingston says. I suspect he's wandering next door to watch through the glass window.
The door clicks shut behind Kingston and locks. I face Anton, not the least bit afraid or threatened by him.
"You got my attention. What is it that you want?" I ask. It's not like Anton to waltz into the FBI and turn himself in. There has to be something that he's planning. I just can't see the bigger picture yet.
"Come, sit." He nods toward the vacant seat opposite the metal table.
I relent, coming to stand on the other side, away from him. I scoot the chair out, and it squeaks against the tile floorboards.
Anton's eyes squint with discomfort, but he tries to hide it. "I came here to save you, kitten." His use of the word 'kitten' is soft and quiet, careful not to let anyone else hear his pet name for me.
"I don't need saving."
"But I believe you do. My friends don't like what you did and intend to make their displeasure known."
He's careful not to use words like threaten or kill, but I get the impression they intend to retaliate for my actions.
"I appreciate the heads up, but I can take care of myself." I sit in the chair across from him. The wood chair is cold and hard. It's not the least bit forgiving, and I suspect Anton isn't, either.
Except he's here, and that confuses me.
"Why warn me?" While I appreciate his gesture, he doesn't seem the kind of man intent on protecting a federal agent. He'd sooner kill me than protect me.
He stalls, not answering my question.
"Okay, then answer this, why turn yourself into the feds?" I ask.
He clasps his hands together in front of himself. I imagine he's already been frisked and searched for a weapon upon entering the building. I'm not in immediate danger with him, the two of us alone.
Because, let's face it, we're not alone. Agent Kingston is watching our conversation, listening to us converse, and I'm confident he's not alone in the room next door.
There's not even a hint of privacy, and if I attempt to manipulate any of the equipment, I'll be the next disgraced agent, like Madisyn had been, for what happened between her and Mikhail.
"I told you I'm doing this to protect you," Anton says.
"I find that difficult to believe," I say. "Last night, when you discovered who I worked for, you threatened me at gunpoint."
Anton clears his throat. "I'll admit I was surprised by the revelation that you weren't who I believed you to be."
I can accept that as an answer. It sounds truthful and honest. Not that the man has an astonishing reputation for honesty and ethics.
"And?" I'm waiting for him to elaborate, to say something that makes sense. Why the hell is he here? Does he want to be carted off to prison for the next twenty years?
We have nothing on him or the organization, at least nothing that would be admissible in court.