Expecting Trouble. Delores Fossen
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aimed an accusing index finger at Cal. “You know it violates regulations to have intimate or sexual contact with someone in your protective custody. And for those thirty minutes in Monte de Leon, Jenna Laniere was definitely in your protective custody.”
That brought Cal to his feet. “Sexual contact?” Ah, hell. “Is that what she said happened?”
“Are you saying it didn’t?”
“You bet I am. I didn’t touch her.” It took Cal a few moments to get control of his voice so he could speak. “Did she file a complaint or something against me?”
Kowalski motioned for him to take his seat again. “Trust me, Agent Rico, you’ll want to sit down for this part.”
Cal bit back his anger and sank onto the chair. Not easily, but he did it. And he forced himself to remain calm. Well, on the outside, anyway. Inside, there was a storm going on, and he could blame that storm on Jenna.
“As you know, I’m head of the task force assigned to clean up the problems in Monte de Leon,” Kowalski explained. “The kidnapped American civilians. The destruction of American-owned businesses and interests.”
Impatient with what had obviously turned into a briefing, Cal spoke up. “Is any of this connected to Ms. Laniere?”
“Yes. Apparently, she’s still involved with Paul Tolivar’s business partners. That’s why we started keeping an eye on her again.”
That took the edge off some of Cal’s anger and grabbed his interest. “Involved—how?”
Kowalski pushed his hands through the sides of his graying brown hair. “She’s been staying in a small Texas town, Willow Ridge, for the past couple of months. But prior to that while she was still in Houston, one of Tolivar’s partners, Holden Carr, phoned her no less than twenty times. They argued. We’re hoping that during one of their future conversations, Holden might divulge some information. That’s why the Justice Department has been monitoring Ms. Laniere’s calls and e-mails.”
In other words, phone and computer taps. Not exactly standard procedure for someone who wasn’t a suspected criminal. Of course, Hollywood would almost certainly have been aware of that surveillance and monitoring, and it made Cal wonder why the man hadn’t at least mentioned it. Or maybe Hollywood hadn’t remembered that Cal had rescued Jenna.
“What does all of this have to do with alleged sexual misconduct?” Cal insisted.
Kowalski hesitated a moment. Then two. Just enough time to force Cal’s anxiety level sky-high. “It’s come to our attention that Jenna Laniere has a three-month-old daughter.”
Oh, man.
It took Cal a few moments to find his breath, while he came up with a few questions that he was afraid even to ask.
“So what does that have to do with me?” Cal tried to sound nonchalant, but was sure he failed miserably.
“She claims the baby is yours.”
Cal finally spotted her.
Wearing brown pants and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater, Jenna came out of a small family-owned grocery store on Main Street. She had a white plastic sack clutched in each hand. But no baby.
One thing was for sure—she didn’t look as if she’d given birth only three months earlier.
But she did look concerned. Her forehead was bunched up, and her gaze darted all around.
Good. She should be concerned about the lie she’d told. It probably wasn’t a healthy thought to want to yell at a woman. But for the entire hour-long drive from regional headquarters to the little town of Willow Ridge, Texas, he’d played around with it.
She claims the baby is yours.
Director Kowalski’s words pounded like fists in Cal’s head. Powerful words, indeed.
Career-ruining words.
That’s why he had to get this situation straightened out so that it couldn’t do any more damage. Before the end of the week, he was due for a performance review, one that would be forwarded straight to the promotion board. If he had any hopes of making deputy director two years early, there couldn’t even be a hint of negativity in that report.
And there wouldn’t be.
That’s what this visit was all about. One way or another, Jenna was going to tell the truth and clear his name. He’d worked too damn hard to let her take that early promotion away from him.
Cal stepped out of his car, ducked his head against the chilly February wind and strolled across the small parking lot toward her. He figured she was on her way to the apartment she’d rented over the town’s lone bookstore. Judging from the direction she took, he was right.
Even though she kept close to the buildings, she was easy to track. Partly because there weren’t many people out and about and partly because of her hair. Those shiny blond locks dipped several inches past her shoulders. Loose and free. The strands seemed to catch every ray of sun.
That hair would probably cause any man to give her a second look. Her body and face would cause a man to stare. Which was exactly what he was doing.
She must have sensed his eyes on her because she whirled around, her gaze snaring him right away.
“It’s you,” she said, squinting to see him in the harsh late afternoon sun. She sounded a little wary and surprised.
However, Cal’s reactions were solely in the latter category.
First, there were her eyes. That shock of color. So green. So clear. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her eyes when he rescued her in that dimly lit hotel, but he did now. And they were memorable. As was her face. She wore almost no makeup. Just a touch of peachy color on her mouth. She looked natural and sensual at the same time. But the most startling reaction of all was that he wasn’t as angry at her as he had been five minutes before.
Well, until he forced himself to hang on to that particular feeling awhile longer.
“We have to talk,” Cal insisted. And he wasn’t about to let her say no. He took one of her grocery sacks so he could hook his arm through hers.
She looked down at the grip he had on her before she lifted her eyes to meet his. “This is about Paul Tolivar’s business partner, isn’t it? Is Holden Carr the one who’s having me followed?”
That stopped Cal in his tracks. There was a mountain of concern in her voice and expression. Much to his shock, he wasn’t immune to that concern.
He didn’t like this feeling. The sudden need to protect her. This sure as heck wasn’t an ISA-directed mission.
He repeated that to himself. “Someone is following you?” he asked.
She gave a surreptitious glance around, and since their arms were already linked, she maneuvered him into an alley that divided two shops.
“I spotted this man on my walk to the grocery store. He stayed in the shadows so I wasn’t able to get a good look at him.” Her words raced out, practically bleeding together. “Maybe he’s following me, maybe he’s not. And there’s a reporter. Gwen Mitchell. She introduced herself a couple of minutes ago in the produce aisle.”
Cal made note of the name. Once he was done with this little chat, he’d run a background check on this Gwen Mitchell to see if she was legit. “What does she want?”
Jenna dismissed his question with a shrug, though tension was practically radiating from her. The muscles in her arm were tight and knotted. “She claims she’s doing some kind of investigative report on Paul and the rebel situation in Monte de Leon.”
That in