Which meant the guy wasn’t going to let him walk out of that building anytime soon.
Unless…
“Coincidences,” Ethan murmured. Then he said one name. “Zoe.”
Victor’s eyelids flickered. “Excuse me?”
Ethan glanced around the little room. “Where is the surveillance equipment in this place? I’m sure it’s turned on. I’d hate for there to be some kind of malfunction.” Then he glanced back at the FBI agent and just waited.
He was gambling here, but his recent investigation on Victor Monroe had turned up a few interesting facts.
And a very useful link that led from Victor right back to…me. Coincidence? Hell, no.
A muscle jerked in Victor’s jaw, then he pushed away from the table. He left the room without another word. Ethan leaned back a bit in his chair, lifting up the front two legs as he waited, waited…
A few moments later, Victor was back. Only the guy looked seriously pissed. Ethan pushed his chair forward, bringing the legs back down.
Victor grabbed his chair and leaned over him. “You fucking sonofabitch…” Victor snapped at him. “What the hell do you know about Zoe?”
Bingo.
“I’m guessing you turned off the cameras and the sound recording equipment, huh?” Ethan murmured.
“I will destroy you.”
Promises, promises. He tried to look shocked. “Is that any way for an FBI agent to talk?”
Victor growled.
“Zoe Peters,” Ethan said. “A beautiful woman. Incredible dancer. She actually used to work at one of my places in Vegas. Not as a stripper,” he hurried to say when Victor’s eyes went feral, “but as a showgirl. She’s got some moves you wouldn’t believe.”
“I could kill you right now and say you tried to escape.”
Maybe. “That’s not who you are.” He might actually have just found an agent he could trust.
“You don’t know anything about—”
“I got this cop friend in D.C.” Since there were no cameras going, he felt safe in revealing this. “You would not believe the connections that woman has.” Faith Chestang could always manage to surprise him. And to think, when they’d first met, she’d been so ready to lock him away. Oh, but how times could change. “She tapped into your FBI file, pulling some strings that came in mighty handy.”
Victor’s face was a mask of hate.
“I know you worked the Luther Bates case.” Talk about a twisted freak. Luther Bates had given new meaning to the word sadistic. The guy put out hits on everyone who got in his way. Luckily for the rest of the world, Luther was currently rotting in a maximum security prison. The FBI was chomping at the bit to get Luther to talk to them, but so far, he seemed to be staying quiet.
The FBI kept trying, though. And the FBI agent who’d gone to visit dear twisted Luther the most over the last few weeks?
Special Agent Victor Monroe.
Only Victor had taken that intense interest in the guy after Zoe Peters had vanished. Ah, Zoe. A woman with a past she wanted dead and buried.
Since Zoe had vanished a few weeks ago, most folks thought she was dead.
Ethan wasn’t most folks. “I also know,” he said softly, “that you helped Zoe to disappear.”
Victor straightened immediately. “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Really?” He’d put the pieces together himself. With intel from Faith…and Zoe. “That’s not the impression Zoe gave me. She actually thought she could trust you.”
And, just like that, all emotion vanished from Victor’s face.
“Didn’t I mention that she called me recently? She needed money, and I was someone she thought she could count on.”
Victor shook his head.
“I sent her the cash, and now, I know exactly where she is.”
Victor’s hand slammed down on the table. “You’re threatening this woman? This Zoe?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like there isn’t a personal involvement between you two. You’re the rule following agent, but you broke every rule…” His head cocked to the right as he studied his prey. “In order to protect the daughter of a sadistic piece of shit like Bates.”
Victor’s eyes widened, just for a moment.
That’s right. I know who her daddy is.
Victor sucked in a sharp breath. “You think you’re blackmailing me?”
Blackmail was such an ugly word. “We both have people that we want to keep safe. You want Zoe to stay off the radar, and I—I want to make sure that no threats come close to Carly.”
“You’d risk a woman’s life…”
“Actually, you’re the one putting Zoe at risk. The FBI has trouble in its ranks, and that trouble…it’s going to raise its head again soon. You’re being watched, Agent Monroe. Other people either know of your connection to Zoe or they damn well suspect it. And if you’re not careful, you’ll wind up killing the one woman you want to protect.”
Victor shook his head. “You—”
“I can help you,” Ethan offered.
Victor’s eyes turned to slits. His cheeks had flushed an angry red.
“I can get some of the heat taken off Zoe. I can put out the word that I know where her body is. All the enemies that Bates has—they’d back off. A dead woman isn’t worth their time.”
Silence.
“But I can’t do that shit while I’m locked up in here,” Ethan continued. He gave the agent a grim smile. “So maybe go pull some strings…and get my ass out of this place!”
***
He was watching her. She could feel the weight of his stare on her and it freaked her the hell out.
Carly lifted her head and her gaze cut to the right. Sure enough, Curtis Thatch was there. His expression seemed concerned. His gaze all dark and intense. And he even took a step toward her.
“Don’t!” The word snapped out from her immediately. He froze and several nearby FBI officers tensed.
She should have felt safe. After all, she was in the FBI office. What place was safer? But Curtis was too close, and safe was the last thing she felt.
Curtis held up his hands. “I won’t hurt you, I swear.”
Was she supposed to buy that line?
She hunched her shoulders and sank deeper into the chair. A chair in Victor’s office—well, what he’d said was his temporary office, anyway. And what was Curtis doing being so close? Skulking around?
Just like his brother…
“If you give me five minutes,” he said as he crept closer, “I won’t press charges against Ethan.”
Her heart nearly stopped.
Slowly, her gaze went back to him.
“Five minutes,” Curtis said, nodding. “That’s all I ask for. Surely Ethan’s freedom is worth that small amount of time to you?”
It was.
“But I don’t want to talk here,” Curtis continued, glancing over his shoulder at the nearby FBI agents. “Everyone and their mother could be listening. Neither of us wants that.”
She wasn’t sure what she wanted. No, she knew. Ethan’s freedom.
“I’ll tell the agents—right now—that I’m not pressing charges. That it was all a mistake. Then I want you to walk out of this place with me. We’ll go to a diner down the road, and you’ll give me my five minutes.”
He must think she was insane. “I’m supposed to just walk away with you?”
His lips tightened. “I am not Quincy.”
No, if he was…he’d have a knife in his chest.
“We’ll stay in public the whole time,” Curtis promised. “I won’t even touch you. I just want to talk. Your lover’s freedom for a five minute conversation. That is more than fair.”
Her gaze slid around the small room. Victor had been in there before, right before he’d rushed off to interrogate Ethan. Only before he’d left for that interrogation, Victor had secured his weapon in the top desk drawer. She’d watched him lock that weapon up.
And then h
ead in to interrogate Ethan, determination apparent in every hard line of his body.
Ethan can’t be locked up.
“Five minutes,” she agreed. “Go tell the agents, right now, that you aren’t pressing charges.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, then he whirled and hurried away. Carly leapt to her feet and headed for the drawer. Ethan had taught her so many useful skills when she’d been younger. It took her ten seconds and one bent paperclip to open that drawer…
And then she was rushing out of that office. She came up behind Curtis just as she heard him tell an FBI agent, “No, no there was a mistake at the scene. The man was obviously confused because of the explosion. I don’t believe he ever intended to attack me. I won’t be pressing charges…”
The young FBI agent stared at him in shock.
“Agent Monroe knows how to reach me. I-I answered all of his questions before, and if he needs me, he can find me easily at my hotel.” Curtis gave a quick nod. “But I have to go. Excuse me…”
The FBI agent called out after him. Curtis didn’t stop. He went right down the stairs.
While others scrambled to go find Agent Monroe and let him know about Curtis’s sudden one-eighty, Carly slipped away, too.
The weight of the gun at the base of her back was incredibly reassuring.
How long would it be before Victor realized she’d swiped it?
***