Kyle (Hope City #4) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,19

to say to you.”

Kyle and Alex nodded and stood at the same time. Her gaze jumped between the two men, a questioning crease now marring her brow.

“That’s it? I can’t believe you came all this way just to try to mess with me.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should be flattered with the attention.”

Leaning forward, he placed his fists on the table. He felt Alex shift slightly, but his partner had no worries. “Nah, don’t be flattered. You see, this is personal. The woman you held hostage… that was my sister.” Beth’s quick intake of breath echoed in the small room. Grinning, Kyle stood to his full height. “One way or the other, I’m not gonna stop digging. And when I get them, whatever protection you’ve got here will be gone.”

Opening the door, he and Alex stalked out, nodding to the guard that they were finished. Walking back down the hall, the guard jerked her head in the direction they just left. “Don’t know how, but that woman seems to always have money for the extras. Prison salon does her dye jobs. Laundry always has her uniform pressed. And protection? She’s not touched by the others.” As they reached the security checkpoint, she shrugged. “She’s quiet and not a problem, so I don’t care where her money comes from. Just thought you might like to know.”

Neither man spoke until they had completed the checkout procedures and were once more inside Kyle’s truck. Letting out a long-held breath, he leaned back in the seat. “So, someone is taking care of her. Someone who is paying her to be quiet.”

“Could be.” Alex looked his way as Kyle started his SUV. “Feel better seeing her in prison?”

Snorting, he shook his head at Alex’s attempt at a joke. “I know you were worried about me going ape shit on her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she let something slip.”

Alex chuckled. “I wasn’t sure you caught that. I thought you might have been too interested in getting your digs into her.”

“You know me better than that. But when she said that one way or the other we’ll make it look like she talked, she was admitting that there was somebody out there that would care. And that person is who we want.”

6

Sitting outside Helen Slater’s office, Kimberly ran her hand over her skirt, both to smooth out the wrinkles and to wipe her palm so that she would not greet the Sales Supervisor with a wet handshake.

She had spent the past day planning her assignment with John and was giddy with excitement over the change. She had talked to Bekki the previous evening, picking her friend’s brain for the right journalistic angle for her questions.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell Bekki about how her Celtic Cock evening progressed, but she’d hesitated. If it had just been all fun and games, she probably would have. Bekki would have been thrilled that her dry streak had ended. But, while there was no chance her heart was involved with Kyle, it didn’t seem right to joke about it. After all, the best sex of my life is no joking matter. Especially since it’ll never happen again.

“Ms. Hogan? Ms. Slater will see you now.”

Lost in thought, she startled as the assistant waved her hand toward the office door. Leaping to her feet, she smiled. “Thank you.” Wearing heels, she focused her attention on not tripping on the carpet. It was not as lush as Sally Gleason’s office, certainly more utilitarian. Stepping inside the office, she smiled as Helen stood from behind her desk and approached her. Shaking hands, she settled in the seat proffered.

Up close, Helen was older than Kimberly initially thought. Closer to fifty than forty, her white-blonde hair was styled in a severe, chin-length bob.

Uncertain how she should begin, she was gratified when Helen took charge. “Sally and I have discussed this assignment, and I’m quite excited to have you cast the Sales Department in a better light. I see no reason to beat around the bush, Kimberly, so I’ll be frank. When Beth Washington, who had been one of my most prolific sales representatives, was arrested and admitted to stealing drugs that she delivered to a free clinic’s doctor who was selling them on the black market… well, I was shocked.” Shaking her head slightly, she said, “Actually, the word shock is hardly severe enough. I was angry. Angry at her theft. Angry at her motives.

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