Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“What else do you know, Jim?” I asked, amused.
“I know that when she left, it was a spectacle. She was threatening her new ‘husband,’ which really isn’t a husband. Apparently they were working a job together here, and Jack, whose real name is Chester Brown, needed a cover. They came up with Jack Leo,” he said. “Natasha’s real name is Natasha Leo. Jack’s real name is Chester Brown. Though, he has about a hundred aliases that he uses.”
I nodded, hoping he’d keep going.
“They were coming here to help with an organized crime case that local agents couldn’t crack. Chester Brown moved into Natasha Leo’s place, and everything went south. They fought loudly every day about those cats. Apparently, Chester is allergic to them. Then one day Natasha gets home and they’re all just gone. That’s when World War Three happened. She went off. Threatened to kick him out and do all kinds of things. Then more official looking people showed up, and Natasha marched out with a packed bag and a mean scowl on her face. She looked so damn mad. Haven’t seen her since,” Jim supplied.
Goddamn, I’d be pissed as hell, too.
Natasha had a real good reason to be mad.
“How’d the news article come out?” I wondered.
“Our neighbor down the street,” he pointed two houses down. “Works for the Dallas Mirror. She heard everything and wrote it, leaving out the bit about them being FBI agents so she couldn’t be sued.”
“Well, I officially think that he’s an asshole,” I admitted.
And I did.
But I also found that I felt a whole lot more.
Why was Keely being targeted, though?
Were other agents following around Brecken, and my sisters?
My mind was reeling when I said, “Hey, Jim. I have to make a few phone calls. I’ll be right back.”
Jim went back to watering his plants, and I walked a little farther down the road to stand near a couple of trees that were offering up shade.
My call went to Shasha first, and to say that he was pissed would be an understatement.
“Everyone else has bodyguards,” he said. “Keely is the only one that doesn’t.”
He was right.
“Fuck,” I sighed. “I’ll get her one ASAP. She’s gonna fuckin’ love that.”
“See if one of the Truth Tellers wants to do it. She’s friends with them…” I missed what else he was saying because there were multiple cars rolling up the road. “Fuck.”
“What?” Shasha asked.
“I’m gonna need you to put a Truth Teller on Keely. And keep an eye on her,” I said. “She’s at the office today with Copper, so you can probably just give him a call.”
“What are you saying?” Shasha asked. “Are there cops there?”
“Yep,” I confirmed.
“I’ll pull your location and get you a lawyer out there in a bit. Don’t say anything,” Shasha ordered.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not stupid, Shasha.”
“No, you’re not. But you also get a little defensive when your girl is brought into the mix,” he explained.
He did have a point.
“Well,” I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
I walked back over to Jim after I hung up and said, “Hey, Jim.”
Jim looked up.
“Could you possibly hold my phone and keys for a bit? Until I can come pick them up a little later?” I asked, getting the feeling that I could trust this man with just about anything.
Especially if he didn’t like ol’ Jack/not Jack.
“Sure,” he frowned, then saw all the cars barreling down the street. “I’ll put your bike in the garage.”
“Thanks, Jim,” I said as I handed him my phone and keys. “If my girl calls, tell her that she needs to call Shasha.”
“What’s your girl’s name?” he asked.
“Keely,” I answered.
“Okay.” He took the phone and the keys and put them into his pocket.
No questions.
Yeah, I needed to tell Shasha about this old man.
Maybe he could be useful.
With my pockets a lot lighter, I went back to my lean against the bike, knowing what was about to come.
It didn’t take long.
As soon as his backup had arrived, Cheesy Chester came back out of his place, clothed in his ridiculously oversized getup, and watched the show.
“Dima Semyonov?” the first man to reach me asked.
He was clothed in a FBI windbreaker, and looked like the quintessential FBI guy off of every movie ever.
“Are you Dima Semyonov?” he asked again, clearly impatient with me.
I didn’t say a thing.
“You’re under arrest,” he stated.
My brows rose.
“For what?” Jim asked for me.
Damn, I knew that I’d liked the guy.
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to go inside,” the FBI guy’s partner, this one at least dressed a little bit more professionally, said.
“I think the fuck not,” Jim disagreed. “I’m not done watering my plants. I have a routine. And this is a free country. I can be outside if I want to be outside.”
“You’re interrupting a federal investigation,” FBI guy number three barked as he came out from behind his car, as if he’d been worried that I was going to attack him at any moment.