Absolute Trust - Jeana E. Mann Page 0,2

on his way to the driveway. My fingernails cut half-moons into the flesh of my palms.

“Jagger, listen to me.” Warren shifts forward, rests his elbows on his thighs, his expression earnest. “Cash Delacorte is one shady dude. He won’t think twice about putting a bullet between your eyes when he’s done with you. I’m begging you. Tell us what you know. I’ll do everything in my power to get you a plea deal. Just talk to me.”

“Why should I trust you? You hid your identity from me in Vegas.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What were you doing there anyway? Were you following me or following Cash?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” The lines around his mouth tighten.

“Are you charging her with anything?” Emeline snaps out of her funk. She moves to the edge of the sofa cushion and leans forward.

By the subtle lift of his eyebrows, her question catches him off guard. “Not yet, but she’s a person of interest. It’s just a matter of time.”

I open my mouth to speak, but it’s Em’s turn to silence me. She holds up a finger. “Don’t say another word, Jag. If these guys have more questions, they can direct them to your attorney.” She drops a hand onto my shoulder and squeezes. “Now, Agent Warren, please collect your partner and leave.”

Dodd returns. “Car’s registered in her name.” He narrows his eyes and faces me, a scowl on his face. “How the fuck can you afford a car like that? We’ve checked your finances. You’re close to broke.”

Warren sighs and stands. “Enough. Let’s go.”

“We aren’t done here.” Dodd takes a menacing step toward the sofa.

“She wants a lawyer.” Warren drops a business card on the coffee table, taps it twice. “If you decide to talk, give me a call.”

The instant the door closes behind them, Em jumps up from the sofa and clutches the top of her head with both hands. “Oh my gosh, Jagger. What is going on?”

I head to the door and lock it then lean back on the wood, certain my knees are about to give out. “I’m not sure. Agent Warren was at the hotel bar in Vegas. He hit on me. I thought he was just some random guy.”

“Who is this Mr. Spillman? Were you at the country club?”

“Cash took me there to make an exchange with Mr. Spillman. I had no idea what was going on. It was supposed to be a simple job to repay my debt.” I realize how lame it sounds the moment the words leave my mouth.

Her glare softens. “I’m sorry. It’s just—those were FBI agents, Jag. This is serious.”

“I know. I know.” I pace in front of the window. “Everything is such a mess. I have no idea what to do.”

“I’m calling Tony to cancel our date.” She grabs her phone from the coffee table. “You and I need to figure this out.”

“Are you crazy?” I reach for the phone, but she holds it above her head. “What if he knows about this investigation? If you cancel, it might look suspicious.”

“He doesn’t know anything. He would’ve told me.”

“Maybe you need to ask him. Not directly. Just hint around.” Inviting an officer of the law into my private life might not be the smartest move I’ve ever made, but I need to know what I’m dealing with. “He might be more sympathetic than you think.”

“And ruin the only relationship I’ve had in two years? I don’t think so.” Despite her objections, she returns the phone to the coffee table.

The worried pinch of her forehead renews my guilt. I give her a quick hug. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Do whatever you think is best.” The last thing I want is to ruin her happiness. Unlike me, she’s the sort of girl who needs a boyfriend to feel complete. I’m in no position to judge a person for chasing their dreams. “Come on. I’ll do your nails. I’ve got a new color that will look great on you. Tony will love it.”

Three

Jagger

The next morning, when I come out of my bedroom, Tony is leaning against the kitchen island, watching Em cook. Not that I’m surprised to see him. The thump of her headboard against the opposite side of my bedroom wall kept me up most of the night. However, this is her first guy to stay for breakfast. It’s a big deal. One I don’t want to ruin for her. The letters IPD—Indianapolis Police Department—are printed on the T-shirt stretched across his