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A youngish redhead stood off to one side of the door, trying like hell to peek through the slits in the boarded up windows. She wore a cheap black suit with a cheaper looking white Oxford shirt underneath, but it was the ugly yet functional black shoes that pegged her as law enforcement.
No way would I open the door. I dashed upstairs to wake Charlie.
He raised his head from the pillow as soon as I opened the door, but I had to lift his hands from my ass when sat on the bed.
“Somebody’s here,” I said, and told him what I saw through the slit in the window. As we spoke, I was suddenly grateful for the security screen door Charlie’s dad had insisted on adding early this morning.
“Open the door and tell her I’ll be right down before she has all the neighbors on my front lawn taking selfies.”
That had me nervous, but I did what I was told and ran back down to open the front door.
“Yes?” I said, delighting in the confusion in her eyes when Charlie didn’t come to the door. I saw her quickly check the house number. For a minute she thought she had the wrong address.
The woman flashed a badge too quickly to be useful and introduced herself.
“Agent Beck, FBI. I’d like to speak to Mr. Ellison. I have a few questions.” A moment later, recognition flashed in her eyes. “Savannah Rhymer?”
Like I would fall for that trick. “I’m gonna need to see that badge for longer than half a second.” With an annoyed sigh, Agent Beck held the badge up beside her face, but too far away to be seen through the screen door.
“Hang on, let me just call your field office to verify you work there.”
Those words produced another groan, and she smacked the badge up against the security door. “Better?” For some reason she didn’t want the FBI to know she was here, and that only intrigued me more.
“Good enough.” I folded my arms and planted my feet in a wide stance to let her know this was as close to inside as she would get.
“Questions about what, Agent?”
Agent Beck nodded slowly, her big blue eyes bouncing up and down the block. “Mind if I come inside?”
“Yes, in fact I do.” At that moment, I heard Charlie close the door in the bathroom upstairs. He turned on the shower, leaving me to entertain his guest for a few minutes more.
“I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I felt only a hint of sadness at my brother’s demise. Finding out he was the reason for the last six months or more of my brutalization and torture was still hard to accept, but it was just in line with who he was. Who Ronan had trained him to be. Ruthless. Evil.
“I haven’t seen Brendan in a long time, so I have no information to offer you. Sorry.”
“Right,” she said, disbelief thick in her voice. I decided then and there that I didn’t like or trust this woman. “Your brother is dead, any information you have on him would be irrelevant at this point, wouldn’t it?” She arched a fiery red brow and folded her arms.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you expecting me to break down just now? You’ll have to try harder than that, Agent Beck.”
“I’m looking for information on someone else. Dietrich Mueller. It’s why I’m here. I have a few questions for Mr. Ellison. You know him, right? Father Mueller? Maybe you can help me.”
She knew damn well I knew the man. He was practically the right hand to Ronan, but she didn’t know much else. The bitch was fishing.
I shrugged casually and gave a short nod. “I know of him. Why?”
“Because I am an officer of the law, and I’m asking you a direct question.”
“Oh. Then no, I know that he’s a business associate of my father’s and that’s it.” If she wanted to be a bitch, I could be a bigger bitch.
“Step outside, ma’am.”
“No, I don’t think I will. Have a good day, Agent Beck.” I took a step back and gripped the knob tight just in case she tried to pull some sneaky shit and started to close the door. Slowly. I might have been out of the game for a long time, but I still knew how it was played.
“Okay. Fine. Wait!”
I stopped the door and stood with a wide-eyed, innocent expression on my face. “Was there something else?”
“I know you and your family aren’t too fond of the Ashby family, right?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well then, maybe we can help each other out. You tell me what you know about Mueller, and maybe I won’t throw you and your dad in jail.” She was so close to getting my cooperation, too.
“Well, since I haven’t done a damn thing to justify incarceration, I’d like to see you try.”
