Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1) (4 page)

“Do you live in a goddamn cave? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a cop show with a double-sided mirror before.”

“Of course I have. I wasn’t thinking. I was more worried about the camera. Excuse me for being stressed out.”

“It’s understandable.” Jake eyed me for a moment. “You’re in a shitload of trouble, you know.”

I jumped up, making my chair fall backward, and my hands gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. “If you press charges on me, I’m going to…to…”

He glared back at me. “You’re going to do what, exactly?”

I cocked my head and smirked. “I’m going to press charges on you for sexual assault.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of your antics. Now sit down.”

“I don’t have to listen to—”

“If you don’t sit down and shut up, I’m going to arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation. A few hours in a cell might make you more cooperative. Besides, I already know you didn’t tell Stevens about the kiss.”

I picked up my chair, returned it to its rightful position, and sat in it. “It wasn’t for your benefit, you creep. I didn’t want them to think I was easy.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart. Nothing’s easy about you.”

Jake opened the door and asked Stevens to hand him a file. He closed the door again and spread some pictures out before me. It was the three men from the lounge.

“This here’s Frankie Felts. He’s a low-level mobster with ties to drugs and money laundering. The other is Frankie’s cousin, Arnold. Mostly a parasite, but Frankie keeps him around for amusement. The big guy is Curtis Manning, Frankie’s hit man. As far as we can tell, he’s never missed a mark…until now.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been trying to nail Frankie Felts for a long time, but every time we get close, the witness turns up dead or missing.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.”

Jake grinned. “He covers his tracks well.”

“So why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re a witness, and Felts isn’t going to roll over and play dead. He’s going to try to make sure
you
are, though.”

Dear God.
“Can’t I be an anonymous tip or something?”

“Won’t work. Not since they got a look at you.”

“Then I’ll recant my statement.”

“Won’t matter. To Felts, you’re a loose end, and he doesn’t leave loose ends. He’ll kill you, just like the others. He murdered one of his own men tonight on suspicion alone, but Sergio wasn’t an informant. All the intel we received was from bugs we’d placed throughout Frankie’s organization.”

“So he died for nothing?”

“Sergio wasn’t innocent by any means,” Jake said, shaking his head. “He squirreled away dollars from Frankie’s bank account every chance he got. The drugs he sold helped line his pockets as well. Frankie just hasn’t found out about any of it yet. Sergio had more brains than Felts gave him credit for.”

No kidding. And most of them were on the wall behind his dead body. My stomach rolled at the thought, and I shook my head, wanting the images to dissipate. “What do I need to do?”

“That’s where we come in.”

I was confused, not connecting the dots. “Who’s we?”

“The FBI and U.S. Marshals. We can give you a new identity and put you in a safe house.”

“You mean the Witness Protection Program?”

“That’s the one.”

“Nuh-uh! No freaking way!”

His steely gaze fixed on me, and his jaw tightened. Jake didn’t like being refused. “Three other witnesses have died in the past year. You want to be number four?”

“Should’ve put them in the program.”

“We did.”

“You mean they trusted the government to keep them safe, and they died anyway. Now, I’m supposed to take your word you’ll keep me safe. You’re crazy!”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Sure I do,” I said, standing to leave. “I’m going home and erasing what happened from my memory.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Sit down, Miss Stubborn-ass.”

“Oh, puhleeeze!” I rolled my eyes as I stepped out the door.

Four uniformed officers stood outside the interrogation room, including Stevens, who looked up and smiled. “Can I get you something, ma’am?”

“A ride home would be great.”

“Don’t bother,” Jake snarled, as he marched up behind me. “She’s not leaving.”

“You can’t keep me here against my will. I want to go home.”

“Tough. Like it or not, you’re a witness in a murder investigation.” He looked over to Stevens. “In fact, if she tries to leave again, shoot her.”

Generating steam, I started yelling and stomping my foot. “You’re violating my rights! I’ve been here for hours and answered all your stupid questions. I want to go home. Now!”

Jake smiled, as if he enjoyed my temper tantrum. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Yeah, well, so is virginity, but I don’t have
that
anymore, either.”

A few of the men snickered under their breaths. Jake gave them all a stern look. The hallway went silent, filled with stagnant air nobody wanted to breathe. Jake grasped my elbow and tried to lead me back into the interrogation room. “I’m not done with you yet. You’ll leave when I damn well say you can.”

I dug my heels into the floor. “I want to see your badge.”

“What?” He wheeled around, anger flashing in his eyes.

“You heard me. How do I know you are who you say you are?”

Jake never shifted his piercing eyes off mine as he reached into his shirt and pulled out a badge dangling from a chain around his neck. He held it up for me to get a closer look.

“Could be a fake,” I told him with a shrug.

The other officers in the room grinned with amusement, but a vein popped out of Jake’s temple. He was pissed. He pulled me into the interrogation room and pushed me roughly into the chair. Then he slammed the door on the laughter outside.

I crossed my arms and shook my head. “Has anyone ever hauled off and hit you?”

“You did…with a chair.”

“Well, you deserved it. Maybe you should’ve identified yourself as an agent.”

“It’s not like you gave me much of a chance.”

“Maybe you should’ve done that instead of shoving your tongue down my throat. Both times.”

Jake’s hard mouth turned up in a shameless grin. “So that’s why you’re being a pain in the ass? You’re pissed about me using you as my cover.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

His smile broadened. “I goofed and needed to do some damage control. If I would’ve known Sergio was the guy you were talking to, I wouldn’t have interfered. I wasn’t supposed to make contact with anyone in Felts’s organization. But he saw me come out of the bathroom, and you probably would’ve stopped me if I walked past. So I kissed you to avoid talking to him.”

“Oh, gee thanks.” What an insulting thing to say to a woman.
I was forced to kiss you.
He might as well have thrown scalding water on me. “Jerk.”

He was genuinely confused. “Hold on, I’m lost…”

“I could tell you where to go.”

“What’s your problem? I thought you’d want an explanation.”

“I’m not a puppet, and I don’t appreciate someone showing such disregard for my feelings.”

“Feelings?” he asked. “There were no feelings involved. I was doing my job.”

“Yeah, I could feel how hard your
job
was when it rubbed against my ass on the dance floor.”

“Jesus,” he said, exasperated. “When we leave here, I’m stopping to buy you a self-help book.”

“Won’t it defeat the purpose?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Besides, I already told you. I’m not going into your stupid program.”

“That’s still to be determined,” he argued. “You don’t seem to understand the full scope of the problem.”

Oh, I understand all right. I’m about to be murdered, and it’s freaking me the hell out. I just want to go home.
I breathed out hard, crossed my arms, and tried a more promising tactic. “I’m done answering questions. If you’re going to keep me here, then I want a lawyer.”

“You’re pushing my buttons. Why do you have to be impossible?”

“I’m not talking anymore until I get a lawyer.”

“Don’t be stupid. There’s a fine line between dumb and ignorant, and you’re about to cross it. Do you even know how to protect yourself?”

“I know enough,” I said. “I can’t complain.”

“But you still do.” He shook his head in disbelief, then tried to scare me into compliance. “Worst case scenario is they’ll use you for target practice.”

I refused to show him any weakness, though. “Better than being used by the King of Deception.”

“Well, honey, I guess that makes you the Queen of Denial. But don’t let me monopolize any more of your time, Your Majesty. By all means, go home and have a terrific life…what’s left of it, anyway.”

His words left me antsy, but it was too late to change my mind. The whole absurdity of the situation boggled me. When he wouldn’t let me leave, the imagined dangers were surreal. Now that one of my get-out-the-door strategies actually worked, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. Not that I’d tell him that.

“You still here?” Jake asked in a snarky tone. “Thought you wanted to go home?”

“On a roll, aren’t you?”

“Just making a point,” he answered.

“No need. I got your point. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you. We’ll never be Facebook friends. Good. But here’s something for you… I don’t care. You can go to hell.” I threw open the door and marched out with Jake on my heels. “Officer Stevens, can I get that ride home now?”

Stevens tossed Jake a wide grin. “Do I have to shoot her?”

“No. Get her out of my sight.”

The officer got up from his chair. “I’ll pull a squad car around front for you, ma’am.” Then he strode out a side exit.

“I’ll wait outside.” I walked out the lobby doors.

Two seconds later, Jake stepped out beside me. “You really should stay inside. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I replied curtly. “Officer Stevens is out here somewhere pulling a car around.”

His hand curled into a fist, and he closed his eyes as if he were counting to ten. “Why don’t you just admit you’re wrong and cooperate?”

“Because I’m not wrong. And I’m sick of your bullying,” I said as Stevens pulled around the building and parked next to us.

“You know what your problem is? Your mouth operates faster than your brain does.”

“Is that all?”

“And you have a problem with authority,” he added.

“Then why don’t you stop profiling me and find another girl to use in your undercover operation?”

He laughed loudly and smugly. “I guess I struck a chord with your ego, since you keep bringing up that kiss. You must’ve really enjoyed it.”

“Oh, the fuck,” I said with a disgruntled roll of my eyes. “You’re the one with the ego, jackass. I’d rather have a gerbil up my ass than to have you touch me again.”

Jake put his fingers to my lips as he focused on something in the shadows across the lot. His grim, unblinking eyes startled me, but I tried to tamp down the fear welling up inside. A black sedan with dark tinted windows rolled to a stop in the parking lot with its headlights off. I couldn’t tell if anyone was inside.

“I’m going back inside,” I said nervously, scuttling toward the doors of the police station.

“No! Get down!”

Instead of dropping to the ground, I instinctually turned to see what had happened while still in the threshold of the sliding glass doors. The black sedan had flicked on its headlights, and the back window motored down. Jake’s hand was on his gun, but instead of pulling it out, he propelled himself at me with breakneck speed.

Oomph.

The impact threw me off-kilter, and I landed on my stomach as the first shots rang out. Jake had thrown himself on top of me and shielded my head, but managed to grab his gun and fire back. I couldn’t breathe. My first guess was I held the air in my lungs out of sheer terror. More shots rang out, and glass shattered all around us. Small shards nicked my hands and face as they ricocheted off me.

Three police officers from inside the building emerged, rolling onto the ground with their guns drawn. They each returned fire as the black car sped toward the highway. Two officers ran for their vehicles. Another called in backup over the radio on his shoulder.

Jake peeled himself off me, but the pressure of him lying on top of me wasn’t what kept me from being able to breathe. My ears were ringing, and a burning sensation in my chest felt like a bullet had pierced my lung.

Then Jake shouted, “We need a paramedic!”

Chapter Three

I felt someone toe me.

“I’m not dead yet,” I said weakly.

“I know,” Jake said. “So why are you still on the ground?”

“Because I’ve been shot.”

Jake paused for a beat. “No, you haven’t.”

I rolled over onto my back, which exhausted more effort than it should have. “Then why do I feel like I have a punctured lung?” I asked in a raspy, whispering voice. “I can barely catch my breath.”

“Sorry,” Jake said, hoisting me to my feet. “I must’ve knocked the wind out of you.”

He hadn’t lied when he said he held back during our earlier fight. A macho, all-American male. Probably even played football at some point. I wouldn’t have been any match for him unless he had tried to keep me from getting hurt in that alley. This time I got hurt, but that’s because he was trying to keep me from getting…well, dead.

“You’re bad luck,” I told him.

“I saved your ass twice tonight. How am
I
bad luck?”

“It’s the third time I’ve scuffed the floor with my face since you’ve been around. If you’re the undercover agent, how come I always end up being the one on the ground?”

“I like being on top,” he said smugly. “Besides, none of those incidents were my fault.”

“Two of them were,” I argued, shaking glass fragments from my hair and dusting off my clothes as an ambulance came up the driveway.

“Look at the bright side. At least you’re not the one who got shot.”

“What, someone was shot?”

“Officer Stevens.”

I covered my mouth. “Is he…?”

“No, he’ll be fine. Stevens caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, but it doesn’t look bad. He’s lucky they were aiming for you.”

A wave of nausea welled up from my stomach, making me woozy. “I…I need to sit down.”

Jake spoke to the officer with Stevens. “I’m getting her out of here before she ends up on the ground again. Let me know if you find that car.” He grabbed my arm and speed-walked me over to a black Yukon in the side lot, stuffing me into the back seat.

I drew in slow, deep breaths as he slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine.

“You look a little pale, like you’re going to be sick. Need some Pepto?” His incredibly smug face peered back at me in the rearview mirror.

“You’re such a prick.”

Jake turned to face me, draping his right arm over the seat. He didn’t dare laugh, but the smirk remained on his face. “So where to?”

Damn. He wanted me to say it.

I had refused the FBI’s protection and demanded to go home, but had since changed my mind. Someone flinging bullets at you tends to have that effect. He already knew, but he wanted to make me eat crow. I seriously doubted it tasted anything like chicken.

I sighed. “Are you going to tell me how the stupid program works or not?”

“I knew you couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head. He turned around and drove us out of the lot. “Okay, in exchange for your testimony, you’ll be entered into Witness Protection. You’ll receive a new identity, be relocated to a safe house, and given twenty-four hour protection since it’s a high-threat situation. FBI and U.S. Marshals are assisting each other on this case.”

“Then what happens?”

“We put the bad guy behind bars.”

“Sounds easy.”

“It is…for you. We have the hard part,” Jake said. “We have to keep you alive until then.”

“That going to be a problem?”

“Nope. Everything’s under control.”

His reassurance should have put my mind at ease, but it didn’t. I may have been new to the program, but I wasn’t new to men. Jake was confident to a fault, which led me to believe he wasn’t telling me everything. In fact, I was sure of it. Nothing about this would be as easy as he said.

We drove for half an hour when Jake pulled into the parking lot of a run-down motel off I-74. The vacancy sign was half lit, and the landscaping consisted of weeds and spent cigarette butts.

“We’re here,” Jake announced.

“Does the FBI have a suggestion box?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Thirty minutes outside of town and a crappy motel is the FBI’s idea of relocating me to a safe house?”

The corners of Jake’s mouth threatened to erupt into a full-on smile. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. This is more of a transition station. Have a little more faith in us than that.” Jake got out and opened the back door, keeping his eyes alert as he shuffled me toward a nearby room.

A female agent awaited our arrival. She had on black slacks, a cream silk top, and a pair of chic horn-rimmed glasses. Nerdy, but she had great hair. She smiled at me warmly, then nodded to Jake.

“Agent Ward, I presume? I’m Agent Vickie Rawlings from the FBI’s Indianapolis Division. Two more agents, Agent Franklin and Agent Schafer, are with me. They’re posted outside for the time being.”

“I spotted them when we pulled in,” Jake told her.

Agent Rawlings motioned to me. “Well, are you ready to do this? I have everything we need.”

“Huh?”

“A new identity requires a new look. Lucky for you, my mother owned a hair salon, and I spent every weekend there until I graduated high school. I used to practice on my dolls when I was a child. Actually, you look like one of my old Barbie dolls with all that curly, blond hair.”

I glared at Jake. “You didn’t tell me I had to change my appearance.”

“You have to change your appearance,” he said, mocking me with monotone.

Rawlings grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back of the motel room. “It’ll be fine. You’ll love it when I’m finished.” She pushed me past the vanity and into the bathroom, closing the door with an echoing clang. It may as well have been the cell door closing on my freedom, leaving me with no control and completely at her mercy.

The tiny bathroom didn’t have a mirror, so I couldn’t see what she was doing. My scalp tingled, and the dye smelled caustic, but the color stayed a mystery. Leftover purple gunk in the bowl fueled images of me as a punk rocker sporting a Mohawk.

When it was time to rinse, Rawlings stepped out and came back in with a cellophane-wrapped plastic cup. I wanted to peek in the mirror outside the bathroom door, but didn’t want Jake to see me with a towel draped over my shoulders and hair glued to my head. I was sure I looked as stupid as I felt.

Rawlings rinsed my hair over the tub, toweled it, and combed it before making the first cut. Every snip made me cringe as pieces of my now-brown hair fell to the floor, some segments at least ten inches long. I bit my lip to keep from crying.

Normally, I used a curling iron every day, since my hair is naturally pin straight. When she stopped cutting and blow-dried my hair, Rawlings suggested I keep it that way as part of my new look. My head felt strangely light, as if she’d shaved me bald.

Rawlings stepped back, admiring her work. “Done. You can look now.”

Reluctantly, I opened the door, letting her lead the way, and was glad when I realized Jake wasn’t still in the room. I stepped over to the vanity mirror and peered at my reflection. My hair was a mousy brown color, and the layered cut sat barely past my shoulders. She had given me some face-framing pieces, blended them into the front layers, and added side swept bangs.

“I look like you,” I told her, admiring my cut.

“That’s the point,” she replied, handing me a bag. “Here, now put these on.”

We stepped back into the bathroom, and I opened the bag, half-expecting an ugly turtleneck or a pair of hideous polyester pants. Surprisingly enough, I found the exact outfit Rawlings wore, including a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

Rawlings changed into my clothes, stuffed her own outfit into the bag, and put on a long, curly blond wig she adjusted on her head. When she put on a Kevlar vest, that’s when it dawned on me. She was my decoy.

“Don’t I need to wear one, too?”

“Won’t be necessary,” she said. “If someone is out there watching, then I’ll be the one in danger. They won’t recognize you.”

She tried to comfort me, but I wasn’t feeling warm and fuzzy. I had a knack for attracting unwanted attention. Sergio was proof of that. A vest would’ve made me feel safer but, then again, it wouldn’t keep them from shooting me in the head.

By the time we came out again, Jake was back and joined by three men. Jake stopped talking and looked me over. He didn’t smile or comment, just stared with piercing, impolite eyes. I imagined he liked the new look as well.

“Agent Franklin and Agent Schafer from Indianapolis,” Jake said gesturing to the two men standing behind him. Then he motioned to the third man on his right. “My boss, Harvey Brockway. He’s the Director of the FBI’s Chicago Division.”

The man wore a wrinkled navy blazer, light blue dress shirt, and a loose, slightly askew tie. His thinning gray hair was unkempt, and his bloodshot eyes drooped with bags underneath. He didn’t look like anyone’s boss. He looked like someone who’d rolled out of bed after a rough night.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I only wish it was under better circumstances,” Brockway said, offering me his hand. “Let me assure you we’ll do everything in our power to keep you out of harm’s way.” I nodded, and he gestured to the table. “I brought some documentation for you, Miss Foster.”

I looked at him with confusion. “That isn’t my name.”

“It is now. From this point on, your name is Emily Foster. In the envelope is your new identity, complete with background information. You’ll need to memorize it all. Agent Ward will oversee your transfer to the safe house we set up. From there, three U.S. Marshals will rotate shifts. Someone will be with you at all times. I took the liberty of having some of your personal items from your apartment sent ahead, but if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” I said, thinking Jake could learn a lesson from this man. The consideration Brockway showed in the last five minutes was more than I got from Jake all night long.

After Brockway left, Jake gave the agents their instructions and told them to get moving. Agent Franklin opened the door, looked around, and then walked out. Rawlings followed him closely, keeping her head down timidly as if she were a scared witness. Schafer fell in line behind her.

Jake watched through the peephole, making sure they were gone. “Okay, it’s our turn, Emily.”

Whoa!
Emily? That would take some getting used to.

“I’m not going to walk beside you this time,” he explained. “Don’t act nervous or jittery. You’re supposed to be another agent. Stay calm and get in the front seat. Got it, Emily?”

Jeez. I haven’t had the name fifteen minutes, and I’m already sick of hearing it.
“Yeah, I guess.”

“Let’s go.”

I walked out casually, sauntering over to the Yukon, and slid into the front passenger seat. I tried to convey confidence and coolness, but I was sweating like a preacher in a whorehouse. As soon as Jake drove us out of the parking area, I blasted the air conditioner and turned the vents toward myself. It wasn’t a good idea. I love silk shirts, but you can’t hide hard nipples under thin material. I thought maybe Jake wouldn’t notice, but of course, he did. After all, he’s a man.

His lingering gaze gave me a slight rush. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?” It wasn’t like my nipples were going to sprout tassels and dance for him.

“The nervous breakdown you haven’t had yet.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’ve had some rather calm responses to what most people would deem disturbing situations. I thought you’d be crying by now.”

I put on a brave face, not wanting him to know how scared I really was. “I’m more of a screamer. But if you want to cry, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

“Jesus. Always a smartass,” he said, focusing his attention back to the road. “Get some rest. We’ll be on the road for another couple of hours before we get to the airport.”

“Airport?”

“A private jet is waiting to take us to a safe, undisclosed location.”

“Which is where?”

“You do know what undisclosed means, right?”

“You’re not going to tell even
me
?”

“Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “You still have phone calls you need to make to your family. I have a secure line you can—”

“No.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t call them later. It’s now or never.”

“Fine,” I said with a shrug. “Never.”

He stared at me strangely, not understanding my refusal. “You might want to reconsider and call them. You won’t be able to attend family reunions or even their funerals if someone dies. You need to say good-bye—”

“I don’t…have anybody to call.”

He was taken aback by my response, his brows lifting in questioning slants.

“I buried both of my parents when I was fourteen and don’t have any siblings. I’m alone.”

“Who did you live with when your parents died?”

“Foster homes. Lots of them. Nobody wants a smart-mouth teenager. I figured that out quick.”

“Any other relatives?” he asked.

“No. Probably some distant cousins somewhere who I don’t know, but no one who would know I’m missing, except Gina and Dale. They’re the closest thing I have to family.”

“Your friends from the club? Why don’t you call them?”

I kept my eyes on the window, watching the trees blur past. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t—no, I won’t—say good-bye to anyone else I care about. I’ve already done it too many times.”

“Look, it’s your last chance to contact someone from your former life. It doesn’t matter who—family, friends, an old boss, or even an old boyfriend. You won’t be allowed to do it later.”

I shook my head and, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. He kept looking at me as if I were going to change my mind. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Then you’re officially in federal custody.”

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

Jake smirked. “Omaha, Nebraska.”

“What happens when we get there?”

“There are some rules you’ll have to follow.”

“Wait. You didn’t say anything about any rules. I hate rules. Too damn restrictive.”