An Eye For Danger (book 1)

AN EAR FOR LIES: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

[this is a very rough draft, but since everyone is clamoring for more chapters, i'm releasing it...]

Sam called my name. I thought I’d fallen asleep in the bath, but when I opened my eyes I was in my bed and Mallory was setting a warm washcloth on my forehead.

I sat up and took sips of lukewarm tea from a chipped mug she held to my mouth. Her eye contact was not forthcoming. Neither were her crass comments. Maybe I was still dreaming.

Faintly I recalled her finding me in the cool water after I’d re-bathed, washing away the blood and evidence. She’d lifted me out of the tub, wrapped me in an oversized towel, then folded me under the blanket on my bed, which had been newly dressed in linens. I couldn't decide if Mallory coming to my rescue had been a nightmare or not. This was going to cost me.

Another call from Sam at the door. I thought I'd been dreaming that too, but Mallory set aside the tea and made her way on soft feet to the door, though her usual step resembled an elephant’s.

She wedged the door open a crack. "What now?"

Sam poked his head inside, shot a guilty look at me. “We're past time.”

“She’s not well.” Mallory crossed her arms, blocking his entry. “Waiting isn’t going to kill him. Or you. She just woke up.”

Pushing myself up, I cringed as my abdominal muscles didn’t support the concept of sitting tall and proud. So much for countering Mallory’s theory of my weakened condition.

“Another day of delays won’t go over well with Vilet,” said Sam.

When I looked sharply at Mallory, she explained, “It’s Wednesday. You slept fifteen hours.” She leaned toward Sam and lowered her husky voice. “She took a hard one, Sam. She’s not a professional."

"Which is exactly why boss is pushing. He thinks she's prime to crack now."

"Then tell Vilet I said he can go fuck himself.”

“That will go over even better.” Sam shook his head, glancing at me before wilting slightly. “Besides, I already did.”

Mallory snorted with a smile. "Expect a demotion."

"From recruit to what? There's not much lower. Besides, I kinda enjoyed it."

At this point I sniffed my cup tea for traces of chemicals. They must have drugged me, because there was no logical universe in which Agent Mallory defended me or Sam cussed out his boss. The FBI was Sam's last hope at a career. And his last chance at taking down the Goliath brotherhood who'd nearly killed us.

Sam whispered to her, “So where the hell were you when these interrogations went down? You were my eyes and ears here, Trace.”

“Hey, I’m the door guard, not the warden. I get scarce when they lay in on her. Round and round they go.” She produced an exaggerated shudder. “Drives me nuts to hear her wailing. Rather be out hunting snipers, for crissake. Besides, last time I kept an eye out for you, you had me hiding evidence and nearly losing my badge.” She punched him in the arm. Now there was the Mallory I knew and detested.

She was talking about the night Troy had choked me unconscious and Sam had saved my life by shooting the bastard in the leg. Then I’d found Raul’s body with a knife in his chest, another one of Troy’s victims. Sam had called in Mallory as a cleanup crew to maintain our cover while Stone canvassed the neighborhood, searching for me, his prime witness. And Sam, his personal nemesis.

Gripping the sheet to my chest, I forced my legs over the edge of the bed and cleared my throat, catching their attention. “You might as well come in, if you’re going to talk about me.”