Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
I set her on her feet next to him. “Don’t let her leave and don’t lay a goddamn hand on her.” His eyes widen slightly as he gives me a chin lift, and I hand her purse over to him. “She said there’s evidence in there.”
“I thought the purse was yours.” He smirks and places the purse in an evidence bag. “It matches your outfit perfectly.” I just love working with a whole fucking team of comedians.
Chapter 2
Willow
I glance around, watching as the crazy scene unfolds in downtown Silver Spoon Falls. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can’t shake the gnawing anxiety that’s been eating at me since I made an anonymous Crime Stoppers report about my boss’s questionable business practices.
Just yesterday, I plotted my escape from this hellhole of a job. But quitting too soon would’ve sent all sorts of red flags flying, and I’d be damned if I let Oscar know I was the one who put all the wheels in motion.
“What's your name?” the tall, broody guy wearing a jacket with “FBI” in white letters splashed across the back asks.
“Willow Sumner.” I sit against the uncomfortable back seat.
“Just hang tight, Willow. Someone will be taking you to the station for an interview soon.”
Great. I can’t freaking wait to get all this over with so I can say goodbye to everything having to do with Cavani Investments. But that flicker quickly shifts back to anxiety as I strain to catch another glimpse of the smoking-hot FBI agent who snatched me out of the line of fire. I hope he’s alright.
Suddenly, the entrance explodes with noise again as the hot agent emerges and scans the area, making eye contact with me. In that instant, I feel as if the whole world falls away. Oh, man. I’m in so much trouble here.
A little while later, a deputy sheriff slips into the car and turns to tell me, “I’m going to transport you to the local FBI office.”
“Thank you.” I sit back and watch as we drive through the small town, hoping to get this day over and done with so I can figure out what comes next for me. Being unemployed and possibly hunted by criminals isn’t what I ever imagined would happen to me when I took the job at Cavani Investments.
Sitting alone in the tiny windowless room feels like being in a timeout for grown-ups. The sterile white walls remind me of a hospital waiting room, and I nearly crawl out of my skin waiting. And waiting.
The door finally swings open, and the FBI agent from earlier strolls in. “Sorry to keep you waiting so long.” He doesn’t really look sorry, I think to myself as he sits across from me. “I need to get your statement, and then we’ll work on getting you out of here.”
Great. I can’t wait to get home and forget this day—actually, this entire month—ever happened. “What would you like to know?”
“When did you start working at Cavani Investments?” He quickly writes on a standard yellow pad as I give him the quick rundown of the longest month of my life. When Oscar offered me the job, blind ambition caused me to overlook all the red flags. Accepting the too-good-to-be-true position turned out to be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
“How long did it take for you to realize something wasn’t quite right with their practices?” he asks without looking up from his notes.
“About a week.” The first time I started really looking at the files on my desk.
“What brought it to your attention?” His bored tone raises my hackles a little bit.
“Since the office manager I replaced had left before I started, I had to pretty much train myself. It took me about a week to learn the computer system.” Boy did I get the shock of my life once I figured out the scam Oscar had going. “It didn’t take me long to figure out the balances in the accounts didn’t match the reports. And all the accounts seemed to be owned by nonexistent people.”
“So, you called the Crime Stoppers hotline?”
Duh. He already knows this. I’m tired, cranky, and totally over this freaking interview. “That’s right.”
There’s a knock at the door and I’m so happy for the interruption. My hunky agent strolls in all broad shoulders and rugged charm, and I can’t help but notice how the very air changes as he enters the room. There’s a magnetic quality about him, and it’s hard not to feel a rush of excitement at the sight. I take a deep breath, hoping to get my heart under control, but that only serves to draw his spicy scent into my lungs.
“Willow,” he says, his voice deep and steady, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m going to finish up your interview.” Want to see my happy dance? I think as the other agent stands and leaves the room, mumbling something about the damn water in town.