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The notes. The texts. The places he took me. He shared his favorite memorial. He took me to the winery. We spent an incredible night together. And when I didn’t think I could find Lana, he helped me. That was the man I knew.
Who in the hell was Jeremy West?
I rubbed the tears against my wet cheeks. I didn’t know how much longer until Agent Kenneth came back.
The door opened and he walked in.
I knew I looked like a wreck, but I was past caring at this point. The agent had been the entire demolition crew.
“Have you had some time to think about my offer?”
I cleared my throat. “I have.” I struggled to my feet and took a seat across from him.
“And?” He looked genuinely interested.
“I want proof,” I demanded.
“What else do you need to know? West is dangerous. I’ve explained our case against him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. The man I know is not Jeremy West. If you can convince me he is a criminal, then I’ll comply. I won’t impede a federal investigation. But I’m not just going to take your word for it. I want proof, agent. I deserve that much.”
“All right. I’ve got plenty.”
He slapped the files on the table again. I jumped.
“We can start with Sarah Jamison.” He showed me her picture. “Twenty-five years old. Her father was a senator on the oil and gas committee. Mr. West had a relationship with her that lasted three weeks before he helped clean out her father’s assets in Qatar.”
He pulled out another picture. “This is Hannah Pauley. Also twenty-five. Her mother is the ambassador to Saudi Arabia. One month after she and West dated, the ambassador discovered a data breach in the classified files of oil reserves that were going into auction in her territory.”
I held my breath when he slapped another picture in front of me. “Here is Kathryn Jergen. Twenty-seven. Miss Jergen was the aide to the pharmaceutical committee. She and Mr. West were involved only two weeks when there was a huge buy out from two companies that were under potential investigation by the government. All charges in question by the feds were dissolved with the merger. Not a coincidence,” he added. “I can keep going.”
“I don’t fit any of those categories. I’m not privy to classified information or lucrative international financial deals. I’m not like these women.”
He held up a picture of Greer. My chest tightened. “Meet Greer Britt. Twenty-eight. Aide to the Senate Arms Committee. In charge of land and air weapons contracts vetting and research.”
I stared in disbelief.
“But—”
“She was the intended target, Miss Charles. But Miss Britt’s relationship with her boyfriend Preston proved problematic for West. So you were the next best option to retrieve the contract data. Second choice I guess, but it worked.”
I was done being sick. I couldn’t throw up again if I wanted. All I had in my stomach was water.
“Second choice?” I seethed.
I looked at all of the pictures. Beautiful women. Successful women. Some powerful on their own. Some within an arm’s reach of power and wealth.
I glanced at my reflection. And then there was me. The latest woman in the file.
What would the agents say about me? How would I be classified?
“Do we have a deal?” he nudged. “Can the bureau count on you?”
“I need a second to think.” My hands went to my head.
“He’s not your boyfriend, Miss Charles. He never was. He was paid millions of dollars for those contracts. You were a pawn. A target. It was not a relationship.” He closed the folder. “I’ve sat here like this before. With the other women: Sarah, Hannah, Kathryn. And they had the same look on their faces. They did.”
