Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Retrieving the golden letter opener that has a snake coiled around the handle and jamming it into his extended arm is done swiftly as is using my now freed hand to cover his mouth. “You’re right. You’re done talking.” Digging the tool deeper into his flesh prompts him to reach for his holstered weapon. “Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Evans’s is a master marksman, and you almost failed your latest certification.”
He hisses against my palm yet wisely relocates his appendage back into view.
“This,” a hard jerk is delivered to the makeshift weapon, “was merely self-defense.” Keeping his gaze hostage, I sinisterly explain, “See you put a hand on me first. And I have an eyewitness to the whole situation to corroborate my recounting of the events, which would exclude the hurt feelings I conjured up. And while you stand there, arrogantly thinking that no one would believe a woman like me, a woman who you are convinced has ties to organized crime and a deadly agenda, over you, an upstanding member of the law, it is my duty and honor to inform you that they’ll be much more inclined to buy my version of the events – if it were to ever actually come to that – due to the horrific filth being discovered on your tablet as we speak.”
Huckabee’s eyebrows twitch in question.
“Child porn is not something the bureau takes lightly, Agent.”
His muffled outburst is expected.
Enjoyed.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right. There are most certainly ways to prove that those files were remotely planted on your device,” the menacing nature in my tone thickens, “except that they weren’t. Except that someone – maybe it was you or maybe it was someone who was hired to pretend to be you – downloaded them directly onto it and then let them play for various durations in the other room while they stood in your kitchen enjoying a roast beef sandwich with slightly stale bread.”
Panic pierces his increasingly teary-eyed gaze.
“My suggestion to you is to calmly leave my office, wipe away the tears I warned you about while you’re in the elevator, tell your fellow agents you got stabbed in an attempted mugging, and then take the desk transfer to Anchorage that they’re going to offer you.” After moving closer so that my hot breath can tickle his ear, I conclude, “That is if you wanna live. Being a Fed, even suspected of child porn that ends up in Gen Pop is a death sentence.” Yanking the letter opener out at an angle causes an additional slice to his blood-soaked dress shirt. “To make the mugging more believable.”
Releasing Huckabee from my clutches reveals to me everything I was anticipating I’d see.
Regret.
Resentment.
And my favorite.
Unadulterated fear.
“You should probably put some pressure on that,” I villainously state as I drop my attention to my desk drawer. Without another look his direction, I joyfully insist, “Have a lovely day, Huckabee!”
Groans of agony echo around my office until the sound of the door shutting severs them.
“You should’ve let me shoot him,” my guard grumbles during the re-holstering of his weapon.
“Why?” The question is attached to the pulling out of a cleaning cloth. “Is killing a Fed the center square on your BINGO card today?”
Against his own volition Evans smirks at the snarky retort.
Being buzzed again by the front desk results in me redirecting my focus to the next work task. I push the button and instruct, “You may send in Mr. Jung.”
Natalie Blackbell, my main office assistant, politely acknowledges the order, “Yes, Madam.”
It doesn’t take long for the guilty party to knock on the door for entry. Evans leans over to open it, revealing to the man who made the grave mistake of stealing from me the blood drop removal actions between me and my letter opener that are currently in motion.
Discarding the now stained material is accompanied by me rising to my feet. “Mr. Jung, please come in.” I casually gesture towards the chair the not so competent agent was just occupying. “Have a seat.”
He slowly walks from his end of the room to mine with Evans on his heels. His eyes nervously bounce around the space, most likely spotting a few red drops on the ground from Huckabee’s abrupt exit, only stilling when his body does the same in the chair. “Is uh…everything okay, Mrs. Kessler?” Gabe decides against leaning his well-kept, sandy beige shaded frame back in the seat due to my security member’s close proximity. “Your email didn’t specify what the nature of our meeting would be in regard to.”
Like he doesn’t know.
Why is it most men insist on playing these stupid little games with me?
“I can’t imagine it’s an IT problem you need my help with,” he continues to speak, confidence doing its best to find its footing. “I mean, I’m good at my job, yeah, but I’m not at my boss’s level.”