Page 96 of Miss Trust

Chance

Normally I was anxious to get into the office and go to work. Yet this morning I felt reluctant to go straight to the club after we landed. I was unenthusiastic to spend a day away from Tory which was ridiculous considering I had a ton to catch up on.

But hanging out at the house wouldn’t exactly be baby-stepping her into a commitment with me. Considering I’d never been in a relationship, hell if I knew if I was doing it correctly.

The only thing I did know definitively was I had to proceed cautiously. Otherwise, she’d freak out. It was ironic as I would’ve guessed I’d be the one to panic. But it turned out admitting I was falling in love with Tory wasn’t the scary part. Instead, I feared my feelings might not be reciprocated.

Malik and I walked off the elevator to see Mark waiting to greet me. “FBI agent is here. Again.”

Shit. “Does he have a warrant?”

“No, sir. He indicated you scheduled this appointment, but I can tell him you’re not here.”

Double shit. I had indeed scheduled the appointment the last time he’d shown up unannounced. Afterward, I’d promptly forgotten all about it. My personal life was clearly ruling my brain lately. “No. Send him up to my office in ten minutes.”

While I wasn’t completely on the up-and-up when it came to some of my investments, namely the one in the Dubai strip club, I had no reason to be nervous about the authorities. I hid those investments very well. And if the FBI was here about the gambling upstairs, then I’d pay the fine and do a better job of vetting the players before starting it up again.

Malik buzzed my intercom. “Agent Smith to see you, sir.”

“Send him in, Malik.”

Perhaps we could finally put this agent’s stalking tendencies to rest. I stood up and watched the man walk into my office.

Surprisingly, he didn’t appear as government as I’d expected. Instead, he was dressed in jeans and a button-down plaid shirt. A jacket over this undoubtedly concealed his service weapon. He looked about my age, but wore a beard and cowboy boots, the latter something I didn’t see often in LA.

“Mr. Maxwell, I’m Special Agent Smith.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Please take a seat, Agent Smith. I don’t have a lot of time.”

His gaze didn’t leave mine as he sat in the chair opposite my desk. But instead of shrinking from my less-than-welcoming greeting, he sat back and relaxed.

“I appreciate you taking the time for me. You’re a hard man to track down.”

I put my elbows on my desk and steepled my fingers. “We both know that isn’t true. So either you’re lazy, or you were hoping by showing up here a number of random times I’d react in some way and you could follow a trail. Which is it?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You heard of a club called the Scarlett Letter?”

My investment in Dubai. “I’ve heard of a lot of clubs. A name like the Scarlett Letter is undoubtedly popular among them.” I found it in my best interest to be as vague as possible until I knew what information he already had.

“It’s an illegal strip club in Dubai.”

“And the FBI cares why?” I wasn’t fully up on jurisdiction, but I wouldn’t think the organization would care about anything outside the US borders.

“It’s not the strip club which concerns us but the illegal prostitution attached to it.”

Although I was familiar with the darker side of the business, it was not where I had my money invested. “Sounds serious, but I’m not sure how I can be of help. Or again, why the FBI would be involved in a foreign country.”

“It is serious. The reason we’re involved is because of an American woman reported missing. Her family believes she’s been trafficked into prostitution there.” He handed me a picture of a pretty young woman who didn’t look a day out of college.

My jaw clenched. Although I had nothing to do with the prostitution, it didn’t sit well to know my investments were tied so closely to it. While I didn’t care to govern morality when it came to stripping or prostitution, trafficking was something altogether different. I handed the photo back, knowing his intention was to make this personal.

“I can assure you, Agent Smith, the trafficking of humans into prostitution is not something with which I would ever involve myself.”

He assessed me. “Let’s say I believe you. I still think you know who would be involved. And you could help me immensely by giving up those names.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any names to give you.”

“Or you do and you won’t.”