help, but it didn’t.”
“So what makes you think it’s fraud?”
His dark brows furrow in thought. “I can’t put my finger on it. Just a hunch, I guess.”
“Any leads on the men who attacked her?”
“Nope. No one saw anything. They just disappeared with the money. If they were even there at all.”
“You don’t think she was accosted?”
“Well, she clearly was. She had the cuts and bruises to prove it, and the whole right side of her face was swollen. I had originally thought she and her driver were in on it together and maybe she let him tie her up and beat her, but he wasn’t there so it couldn’t have been him. But she’s given very vague details on the men who accosted her.” He shrugs. “But enough about my case. I’m probably boring you to death.”
“Actually, you’re not,” I admit. “This is what I love best about being an FBI agent. I love the challenge of trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. It’s addictive.”
He asks about my job at the FBI, and I tell him about the early days of trying to prove myself and finally finding an unlikely but life-saving comradery with the female agents who’ve become my second family in Austin. Unlike most of the men I’ve met, Marcus is a very good listener, and I can tell he’s truly interested in everything I tell him. So good that I find myself opening up to him about how hard I worked to overcome the misconception that I only got the job because my dad was the director, and worse, not being able to find a man to date who wasn’t intimidated by my job and my father’s position.
“What about you?” I ask curiously. “No wife or kids?” I remember he’d been married once, before we met, but it had ended when he came home from a deployment and found she’d cleaned out their apartment, leaving him with nothing but a note.
I must have touched a nerve, because his face becomes completely closed.
“No,” he says matter-of-factly, his eyes shuttered. “I’m not the marrying kind.”
He gets up and takes his dishes to the sink.
“Make yourself at home,” he says curtly. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I finish my sandwich and put my own dishes in the sink as I hear the water start to run in the next room. I can’t help imagining Marcus in the shower, his naked body slick with water. The man has the most delectable body I’ve ever seen, all smooth skin and carved muscles without an ounce of fat. He may be older, but he has the physique of a twenty-year-old, which I know he works hard to maintain.
I groan. The next twenty-four hours are going to be pure torture. There’s got to be a way to get back to the lodge. Marcus said Five Pines is only about ten miles from here. If the roads were a little clearer, I could run it.
I wander around the small cabin, trying to think of something. Anything! I do find a bottle of good whiskey sitting on the counter that might come in handy if all else fails. Then, as I’m staring out the window, I see a small, covered area off to the side of the house where firewood is stacked, and like a gift from the morning after fairies, what looks like the wheels of an ATV peeking out from under a tarp. Aha. Victory! It’s easily accessible, and those things were built to be driven in the snow.
I take a quick glance around the room, looking for keys. As a highly disciplined military man, I have no doubt Marcus keeps all of his keys systematically organized somewhere. Sure enough, on the wall next to the kitchen cabinet is an iron key rack in the shape of a moose head. There are four sets of keys hanging from it: the keys to his sport utility, what looks like a small padlock key, and two sets of identical keys that must to go to the ATV.
I can still hear the shower running, but I’m going to have to be quick; I’m pretty sure Marcus wouldn’t approve of my plan. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t approve of my plan under normal circumstances! But I’m desperate to leave, my heart hurts, and
“So what makes you think it’s fraud?”
His dark brows furrow in thought. “I can’t put my finger on it. Just a hunch, I guess.”
“Any leads on the men who attacked her?”
“Nope. No one saw anything. They just disappeared with the money. If they were even there at all.”
“You don’t think she was accosted?”
“Well, she clearly was. She had the cuts and bruises to prove it, and the whole right side of her face was swollen. I had originally thought she and her driver were in on it together and maybe she let him tie her up and beat her, but he wasn’t there so it couldn’t have been him. But she’s given very vague details on the men who accosted her.” He shrugs. “But enough about my case. I’m probably boring you to death.”
“Actually, you’re not,” I admit. “This is what I love best about being an FBI agent. I love the challenge of trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. It’s addictive.”
He asks about my job at the FBI, and I tell him about the early days of trying to prove myself and finally finding an unlikely but life-saving comradery with the female agents who’ve become my second family in Austin. Unlike most of the men I’ve met, Marcus is a very good listener, and I can tell he’s truly interested in everything I tell him. So good that I find myself opening up to him about how hard I worked to overcome the misconception that I only got the job because my dad was the director, and worse, not being able to find a man to date who wasn’t intimidated by my job and my father’s position.
“What about you?” I ask curiously. “No wife or kids?” I remember he’d been married once, before we met, but it had ended when he came home from a deployment and found she’d cleaned out their apartment, leaving him with nothing but a note.
I must have touched a nerve, because his face becomes completely closed.
“No,” he says matter-of-factly, his eyes shuttered. “I’m not the marrying kind.”
He gets up and takes his dishes to the sink.
“Make yourself at home,” he says curtly. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I finish my sandwich and put my own dishes in the sink as I hear the water start to run in the next room. I can’t help imagining Marcus in the shower, his naked body slick with water. The man has the most delectable body I’ve ever seen, all smooth skin and carved muscles without an ounce of fat. He may be older, but he has the physique of a twenty-year-old, which I know he works hard to maintain.
I groan. The next twenty-four hours are going to be pure torture. There’s got to be a way to get back to the lodge. Marcus said Five Pines is only about ten miles from here. If the roads were a little clearer, I could run it.
I wander around the small cabin, trying to think of something. Anything! I do find a bottle of good whiskey sitting on the counter that might come in handy if all else fails. Then, as I’m staring out the window, I see a small, covered area off to the side of the house where firewood is stacked, and like a gift from the morning after fairies, what looks like the wheels of an ATV peeking out from under a tarp. Aha. Victory! It’s easily accessible, and those things were built to be driven in the snow.
I take a quick glance around the room, looking for keys. As a highly disciplined military man, I have no doubt Marcus keeps all of his keys systematically organized somewhere. Sure enough, on the wall next to the kitchen cabinet is an iron key rack in the shape of a moose head. There are four sets of keys hanging from it: the keys to his sport utility, what looks like a small padlock key, and two sets of identical keys that must to go to the ATV.
I can still hear the shower running, but I’m going to have to be quick; I’m pretty sure Marcus wouldn’t approve of my plan. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t approve of my plan under normal circumstances! But I’m desperate to leave, my heart hurts, and
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