back to his phone. “Just sit tight, Ms. Fletcher. We’ll debrief with Agent Anderson and then get you somewhere safe.”
She slammed her hand on the seat. “I told you, I won’t testify.” No. Way. There was no way she’d put her life on the line again.
The agent texted on his phone. “You’re going in for questioning. You can do it awake, or you can do it asleep. I’ll let you pick.”
Murderous anger simmered inside of her. This was the reason her brother had told her never to trust anyone. Anyone could turn on her at any time. “You’re probably the mole.”
He jerked his gaze back to her. “I would never do that.”
“Sure.” She snorted, trying to play any part other than the victim. Her brother had constantly told her not to be a victim. She might have to resign herself to being hauled in and debriefed, but they couldn’t keep her. They couldn’t. “I want an attorney.”
No response.
Angela faced the window. “And I want to go back and get my things.” She thought of the little box in her closet that had pictures of her and Brian and her father. One of them showed her mother holding her. Her eyelids fluttered. “I want my things.”
She would figure a way out of this. She would figure out how to get away, get her things, and disappear once and for all. One thing was for sure: she would never testify against Rafael Cortez.
She put her hand to the necklace. Freedom. She could trade her freedom for the information she had. She was sure of it. She hadn’t worked out how, but she had to try. What choice did she have?
“Where are you taking me?” she asked. They were driving into Charleston.
Still, Agent Sears said nothing.
The driver took an exit by the airport, and they drove to what looked like an abandoned office building. When they parked, Angela climbed out of the car, and her mind replayed everything Agent Sears had revealed. She needed more information. “So what’s the plan? Where would I go if I decide to testify?”
Agent Sears directed her down a long hallway, pointing to a door. “Don’t ask me. I wasn’t part of that plan.” He looked ticked off about it.
She shoved past him.
He fell into step beside her. “Agent Anderson will tell you everything you need to know, when you need to know it.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Ouch.” She looked down at his hand.
“Sorry.” His eyes were stern. “I need to caution you. If you run again, if you refuse to help, you will be breaching our previous contract.”
“Oh, the one you made with me and my brother? The one where you promised to protect us?”
He hesitated. “The contract states that if you leave our protection and refuse to testify, you will no longer have any assurances of assistance from the FBI, the marshals, or any other American agency.”
“The same assurances that my brother was given?”
Agent Sears shook his head. “I want you to think about how you’ll also be letting an evil, evil man go free. To do the same evil things to more people.”
She cursed, but she couldn’t deny that he had a point. She did want Rafael Cortez to pay for what he’d done. Not just to her brother, but to hundreds of women and children everywhere. Rather than say anything else, she just glared at him.
They reached a metal door and stopped.
Agent Sears placed his hand on the doorknob. “I know I’m not the friendliest person, but you can trust me.” He pulled out a card and handed it to her. “If anything goes wrong, call me.”
Something was off, but she didn’t have time to process it.
He turned the knob and pushed the door open. “We part ways here.” He gave her a shove inside. “Good luck.”
“Don’t push me!”
“Ms. Fletcher,” Agent Anderson said, speaking up. He had been Agent Sears’s partner when she and her brother had first agreed to help in the investigation and she’d agreed to testify.
Angela didn’t dignify him with a response. She was ready to fight someone, ready to go into full ninja mode.
Then she saw a familiar face, and she stopped cold. If she would have been blasted with a torch, it wouldn’t have been any more effective in taking the fight out of her. “Sean?”
Chapter 8
Sean sat in some FBI off-the-books office in Charleston and tried not to sweat. He’d been pulled out of his twenty-week training program twelve weeks in. Nobody would