Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,74

and I shake my head. “Are you sure?”

“I think I know where I visited and when,” I say and look at Casey. I point at the computers in front of him. “You have something on there that can track my passport. You can check.”

“Well, according to the documents,” Derek says, “you own twenty offshore accounts.”

Yup, that is the straw that broke the camel’s back for Casey, and he roars out. “I don’t give a shit that you are Special Forces. I don’t give a fuck that what I say can bite me in the ass. If I find this guy, he isn’t coming out alive.” I gasp, walking over to him. Now it’s me taking his face in my hands and having him look at me.

“You cannot let him win,” I say, then I look over at the agents. “He’s from the country. He gets riled up easily.”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, let’s blame the country for him.” He shakes his head. “According to this, you also”—he types more—“have accounts in the Bahamas, Switzerland, and Belize.”

“I have to sit down,” I say to Casey. He brings me to the chair, sits down, and then pulls me onto his lap.

“I’m not letting you go,” he says, and if we didn’t have a room full of people, I’d show him how much I’m not letting him go either.

“How much money are in those accounts?” one of the agents asks, and Casey speaks up.

“You’ll find that out after my lawyer drafts certain documents saying that this doesn’t touch Olivia, and that anything you find is not on her.”

“It’s not on me because I didn’t do it,” I tell the room. “Can you check the signatures?”

“Those can be doctored,” Derek says. “What can’t be doctored is the video surveillance.”

“Those are only kept for ninety days,” one of the agent says. “Some keep them for seven years, but the majority of them don’t.”

“There has to be some way,” I start to say, and I don’t miss the look that everyone gives each other. “What?”

“The only way for that to happen is for you to confront Dominic face-to-face,” Special Agent Duchene says.

“Oh, I would love to do that,” I tell them. “But he’s in jail.”

“We can get you in,” an agent says. “You’d be between the glass, and the chances that he will even admit to anything is slim to none.”

“Not if she tells him that she is going to spend it all,” Derek says, leaning in his chair. “Hear me out. He owes the mob a fuck ton. My guess is that he was banking on getting the money from the offshore accounts in order to get them off his back. What if she goes in there and says that she spent it all? I don’t know about you, but that would make me crazy as fuck.”

“She’s not going in,” Casey says, and I look at him.

“It’s the only way,” I say. “It’s the only way I can be free of him.”

“There has to be another way,” he says.

“Yeah, there is, and that is with me dead.” I try to joke. “Which is not the option I choose.” I look over at the agents. “Let’s do it.”

“We will work on it right away,” one agent says and walks out of the room to talk on his phone.

“What about the guy who is waiting to take me out?” I ask the rest of them.

“Right now.” One of the agents laughs. “He’s being arrested for breaking into your hotel room.”

Then he looks at Casey. “Thanks for the tip.”

“How did you know?” I ask him, and he looks at me.

“When he called Dominic, Derek kind of put a bug on his line, and we tracked the towers,” he says, and I look at him with my mouth hanging open.

I lean in and whisper, “You sound so sexy right now.” The agent comes back into the room.

“We have a plane ready in fifteen. We should be in LA in five hours, which will be three p.m. LA time,” the agent says.

“Perfect,” Casey says, and I get up. “She doesn’t go in that place until the document is signed.” He looks over at Derek.

“Should be in your email in an hour tops,” Derek says, and then he smiles at me. “I’ll be watching the whole time.”

“How?” one of the agents ask.

“That’s not really your concern,” Casey tells him, and then we turn to walk out of the room. Casey holds my hand in the elevator, and when we get down to the