Material Witness (8 page)

“Which the FBI seems to want full
control over.”

“So do I,” she said determinedly.
“And I'm choosing what I know and what I trust.”

“Bond fraud and the murder of an FBI
agent are a mite bit heavier than a local bar shooting.”

Abruptly, Cassie dropped into the metal
chair and pulled one leg up to her chest, hugging it with her arms. Her
expression suddenly collapsed. “I just remembered something.”

“About the case?”

“No, something from one of the first
books I wrote.”

Baffled, Jake stared at her blankly.
“What are you talking about?”

“One of the main characters in the
book was a low ranking member of the mob who turned state’s evidence after his
wife was killed. He wanted to change his identity, live off Uncle Sam's dime
while planning his own operation on some tropical island.
Grieve
for his
wife in high style.”

Jake shook his head. “We're talking
about your safety. Real life, Cassie. Not some make-believe character in a
book.”

Haunted eyes, fringed with thick
black lashes, lifted to meet his gaze. He didn't need to have her soft body
trembling against his, like it had last night, to feel her fear. It was all
there in her eyes, like a line of mirrors reflecting a thousand images back at
him.

Cassie forced in a deep breath of
air, opening up the stored information held neatly in her mind after years of
research. She'd sworn after her cousin's murder she wouldn't allow herself to
feel this helpless again. All the research, all the books she'd written about
crime with CJ emerging victoriously, suddenly fell flat on dry ground. She was
no stronger than she was eight years ago, she realized. She was still the same
powerless witness in a violent crime she had no control over.

In her years researching crime,
Cassie had prided herself on her meticulous attention to detail. She wanted all
her books to reflect the true nature of the crimes they depicted. How could she
have forgotten this one important detail?

“I'm talking about my choices, Jake.
The FBI arrested the character in my book and locked him up in jail for his own
protection when he didn't get what he wanted. I'm their material witness. This
Agent Tate could do the same to me whether or not I cooperate. Sure, there is
concurrent jurisdiction, but the FBI could leave me with no choice at all until
they’re done with me. And that could take years. I hate that. I’ll never get my
life back.”

Jake moved behind her where she sat
defeated in the cold metal chair. Placing his strong hands on her shoulders, he
gently kneaded her tightly knotted muscles, bringing forth conflicting
sensations. Part of her welcomed his warmth and strength.

What was it about this man that made
her whole body come alive with a single look, or a brush of his hand? With his
fingers burning the flesh beneath her shirt, she couldn't keep her mind from wandering
into dangerous territory.

She was drawn to him in a way that
she’d never felt before. He was her safety net. Her safe harbor. It was only
right that she’d cling to feelings of security now, wasn’t it?

This wasn't like her. Cassie prided
herself on keeping a level head where men were concerned. It was true a part of
her didn't want to go through the same heartache she had three years ago, the
last time she'd been involved in a serious relationship with a man. But things
had changed since then. She couldn't blame Dennis for becoming bitter. How
could she expect him to spend the rest of his life with a woman who didn't feel
anything when he touched her?

Jake was impossibly close. She could
feel the heat of his body against her back as he moved his fingers into the
tender flesh of her shoulders. His hands were strong and warm, reassuring. In
less than twenty-four hours she’d let her guard down with Jake Santos. Why
couldn't she have done that with her fiancé?

Cassie couldn't let it happen. It
became painfully obvious three years ago that she was no good at romantic
relationships. That's why she'd purposely chosen not to write about them. She
knew crime. She could deal with guns and broken bones, not broken hearts.

Cassie had written her main
character, CJ Carmen, as an able-bodied heroine who knew just what to do in
every situation she encountered. She didn't cower in a barroom brawl or hide
from her enemy. She stood up and gave as good as she got. She wouldn't want a
man like Jake Santos to shield her from bullets. She'd turn the tables and
protect him and everyone else around her.

And when it was over, she'd have no
trouble taking a man like Jake Santos to her bed and sharing the pleasures that
only a man and woman could share. She wouldn't have to pretend to feel
anything, as Cassie had done with Dennis. CJ was comfortable with the primitive
dance of giving and taking on all planes. She could meet Jake Santos, and all
the desire and passion he could unearth in her, head on and give back just as
much.

But Cassie wasn’t CJ.

Jake's deep voice pulled her from her
reverie. “You seem a little more relaxed now.”

Cassie straightened her back, trying
to pretend Jake's touch had no effect on her, that she hadn't been thinking of
what it would be like to have his rough hands roam the length of her body. Now
wasn't the time to be thinking of meaningless, mind-altering sex. She had to
figure out how she could stay alive while taking back control of her life.

“I'm fine.”

Jake stepped away from the chair,
leaving her cold in his absence. Voices out in the hall drew their attention to
the door. Kevin opened it.

“Are you two ready for this?” he
asked.

“No, but then I wasn't ready to be
witness to a barroom shooting last night, either. So I guess it doesn't
matter.”

Jake placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Whatever happens, it's going to be okay, Cassie. Just remember that.”

As she rose from her chair, Cassie
wondered just whose benefit those words were for. She didn’t feel it. In the
short time she'd known Jake, he'd been up front with her. She could trust him.
And that was the most vital thing she could cling to right now.

The noise in the hall grew louder as
they approached the interrogation room door. Jake turned back to her, his eyes
settling on her for a brief moment as he hesitated.

“You're shivering. Are you cold?”

Cassie stood then, mindlessly wiping
her sweaty palms on her denim-covered thighs, feeling shakier by the moment
with the prospect of being caught in a tug of war, with her being a frayed
rope. Regardless, she had to put one foot in front of the other and keep doing
it until she felt her unraveling world twist back into place.

She slipped her hands into her front
pockets to hide their obvious trembling. “I'm fine. Really.”

The look of compassion on Jake's face
was almost heartbreaking. She was just a material witness in a case he was
involved with. He was doing his job. Cassie wasn't a part of his life for any
other reason. Playing the nice, agreeable witness would most likely make Jake’s
job, and everyone else’s, a lot easier.

His lips stretched into a smile,
revealing the lone dimple that marked his cheek, and her heart beat at a
dizzying rate.

Trust.
Yes, she could trust Jake Santos.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go meet
the woman of the hour.”

* * *

“I want her out of the city. In fact,
I don’t want her anywhere near the state of Rhode Island.”

Captain Russo had succeeded in
pulling some strings all right. But what he'd managed to pull, Special Agent
Charlotte Tate managed to snag right back.

“She wants to remain at home.”

“That’s out of the question,” Charley
said, pacing the floor. “We can protect her better in Virginia.”

“She wants to be home,” Jake said.

“Near you?” Charley said
sarcastically. “I don’t even want to know what that’s all about. But I warn you,
Jake. If you’ve done anything to compromise this investigation—”

“Easy, Charlotte.” Agent Radcowski
had remained quiet for most of the discussion. “I’m sure the detective is as
eager to see Fagnelio’s head roll as we are. After all, he could have been killed
last night, too.”

“I’m just relaying what Cassie has
said to me,” Jake said. “You have my report. It’s complete. I haven’t slept
since last night and I’m not in the mood for—”

Charley swung around mid-pace to face
him. “I don’t really care what you’re in the mood for.”

Radcowski cleared his throat. “We’re
all a little jumpy this morning. Agent Novak was a friend of mine as well. His
loss at the Bureau will be felt for a long time. But let’s stay focused.
Keeping Ms. Alvarez in Providence is out of the question. I’ve been to the safe
house in Virginia. It’s very pleasant and she’ll be comfortable there.”

“Try convincing her of that.” Jake
stood. “Are we done here?”

“Just one more thing,” Radcowski
said, glancing at Jake’s report. “You said you didn’t see anyone. Does that
mean Fagnelio never mention anything about Agent Novak?”

“He knew him as Junior Canfield,”
Jake said. “That’s all in my notes.”

Radcowski nodded. “And you didn’t
suspect there was a problem when Mr. Fagnelio didn’t show for the meeting?”

“I did. I was about to leave with Ms.
Alvarez when the shooting happened.”

Charley grabbed the report and
quickly scanned it. “That was nearly a half hour after the time you were
supposed to meet Angel.”

“A little less, actually.”

“Did you recognize Ms. Alvarez as
Cassie Lang, the author?” Charley asked.

Jake shook his head. “I didn’t know
who she was at the time.”

Charley lifted an eyebrow. “Her
statement says she was doing research, dressed up like a hooker. You were
soliciting?”

Captain Russo rolled his eyes. “He
was on the job. She looked out of place and he tried to get her out of there.”

Charley looked directly at Jake. “I’d
like Jake to answer this.”

“I could tell she wasn’t a hooker
within five seconds of meeting her. As soon as you see her, you’ll know why.”

Charley gave him a hard look. “Okay,
where is she?”

* * *

Watching Cassie with Charley now,
Jake had to admire the power of Cassie's will going up against the Federal
Bureau of Investigation as if she were talking to the PTA. The people in this room
could protect her life, but they could also make it a living hell if they were
so inclined. And Cassie seemed unaffected by that.

It was clear right from the onset of
their meeting that Charlotte Tate wasn't in any mood to negotiate, but Cassie
insisted on having her say. Even something like Charley's impenetrable
personality Cassie seemed to win over with a mix of police know-how and
undeniable charm.

Maybe it was because they were both
women and women spoke the same language. They understood it. Or so his eldest
sister, Caroline, kept telling him. In fact, she'd called it a handicap that
all men were afflicted with; the inability to speak the language of the female
race.

Regardless, Cassie seemed to melt the
glacial stare Charley had given Jake and agreed to a conference before any
final decisions were made on Cassie's behalf. Since Charley Tate hated to be
forced from the power seat, this was a major coup for Cassie, one that perhaps
Cassie only won because of her status as a crime novelist.

The conference room was filled with a
mix of police officers and FBI agents alike. As Cassie stood at the head of the
room and addressed them all, Charley kept herself at the sidelines, merely
listening. And Jake watched her.

Not a thick black strand of hair in her
perfect hairstyle was out of place. She'd cut her hair since the last time he’d
seen her. Instead of waves of raven hair flowing down her back, it was now
shoulder length. She no longer wore bangs that emphasized her youth. Instead,
she combed her hair back, making her eyes appear larger, more direct.

Jake could see how Tyler, his former
partner, had been attracted to her. Charley was a looker, no doubt about it.

“I understand how serious this case
is and how much you want to capitalize on Angel Fagnelio's involvement with
Ritchie Trumbella by having me as a witness,” Cassie stated, tapping the eraser
end of a pencil against the table. “But it is vitally important to me that I
not be used as a pawn in the legal system.”

The room erupted in a wave of rumbles.

“You don't need to worry. I intend to
cooperate with both the police and the FBI,” she continued above the noise.
“And I'll go to a safe house that you feel will give me complete protection
only until Angel Fagnelio is securely behind bars.”

“We appreciate your cooperation,”
Charley said, starting forward. “And we'll do—”

Cassie held up a hand. “Hold on, I'm
not finished. I've done enough research to know that protective custody isn't
always the sweet piece of cake it seems like in the movies. You all may be
doing your job, and I'll even agree that this is necessary. But at the end of
the day, you'll get to go home to your own lives. I'm the one who has to live
this way twenty-four hours of every day.”