Page 8 of Unspoken Passions

“I get it, Mick.” She sniffed and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I really get it. You’re still controlled by the past, by the fact that you made a promise to Dan to protect me.” She wiped another betraying tear away. “However, I’m alive. I’m a living, breathing woman who has needs. And I’ve been in love with you for…ever! So if you don’t want me, that’s fine. I will respect that your need to protect me is all you can feel for me.” She looked out the window and took in a slow, deep breath. “But if you have any other feelings for me, then…” she drew in a trembling breath. “If you feel anything for me other than protectiveness, then I want to…let’s explore that. Together.” She stopped and looked directly at him. “But if you don’t feel that, I’ll leave you alone. Just…figure it out, okay? Because you’re sending mixed signals and I need to move on. I need to get a life. I would love it if you were a part of that life. A part of my future.” She tried to smile, but it was closer to a grimace “I’ll find a way to get over my feelings for you if you don’t feel the same way.” She turned but paused with her hand on the doorknob of his front door. “ I know that I’ve thrown a lot at you. And that’s not fair. So just…think about it, okay?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “Just let me know how you feel.”

And then she walked out, feeling more foolish with every step. Ella hated this feeling of humiliation that washed over her as she fled from his house. But enough was enough.

Chapter 4

Mick stormed into the sheriff’s office without a word. He was on a mission and he was livid. Pushing into the back conference room where the FBI agents were working, he slammed the door, gaining everyone’s attention.

“I need to know who leaked the information about our investigation,” he announced with deadly fury.

Everyone looked around the room but no one answered.

Mick fisted his hands on his utility belt. “Okay, let me rephrase that question; who has talked about the case while drinking coffee at Ella’s coffee shop ?”

Everyone raised their hands.

The lead FBI agent, Andy Fortman, leaned back in his chair. Mick thought the guy was an arrogant, slimy bastard that clearly loved the power he’d been given as the lead for the investigation. However, so far, the man hadn’t come up with any new leads and frustration among the other agents was building. Fortman didn’t allow anyone to offer ideas, preferring to run the investigation based on his own hunches.

“What the hell, Mick?” Andy demanded, a slimy smile on his face as he balanced on the back legs of his chair. “We’re all working long hours and Ella has the best coffee in town. Of course we’re getting our caffeine fix there.” He looked around the conference table at the other agents, none of whom were smiling back at him.

“Really?” Mick replied, lowering his voice as he braced his hands on the wooden table. “You decided to bring the team into a public space and discuss the details of an open investigation?”

The smugness in Andy’s features faltered, but didn’t completely vanish. “There weren’t any other customers in the shop,” Andy argued.

Mick’s eyes hardened at his stupidity. “Ella was there. And most likely Loretta, since she works the day shift.”

“So what? They’re just around to make the coffee, right?”

Mick restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Ella is a twenty-five year old woman who has managed to build a successful business. How old were you when you started your own business, Andy?”

Andy’s chair hit the floor. “I’m an FBI agent. I don’t run a business, Mick,” he snapped, getting angry now.

“Yeah, well, you’ve broken a cardinal rule of investigation, you idiot. You’ve discussed the secret details about a case in front of civilians. Now there is a group of women who are determined to save their town by going out in red dresses to wheedle intel from the men in town who recognize the red dress signal.”

There was a stunned, horrified silence after his announcement. Andy paled and he glanced around, looking for a friend in the room. None of the other agents looked at him, their silence accusing him.

Andy turned back to Mick, leaning forward and clutching a pen. “Well, you told them not to do that, right?” Andy demanded, standing up. He adjusted his tie, then hitched his pants up, a nervous twitch that any rooky law enforcement person would recognize.

“Of course I told them not to put themselves in danger, you idiot!” he snapped. “But the women in this town are strong and independent. They aren’t stupid either. They are incredibly protective of their town, their children, and their families. If someone is in pain, they rally to support that person. When a woman is pregnant, everyone helps out. Churches and community organizations rally around when someone loses a job. If news gets out about a man beating his wife or girlfriend, they are on top of that issue. Hell, last year, three women got news that a mother of three children was being beaten nightly by her spouse. By the time I gathered the evidence and arrested the man, those women already had that mother and her children secreted away in a safe house with a new life. We are all protective of every person who lives within this county.”

“That’s…admirable,” Andy choked out. Again, he picked up his pen, tapping it thoughtfully on his notebook. “But we can tell them we’ve got this under control.”

“Do we, though?” an agent demanded. She stood up and glared at Fortman, leaning over and bracing her hands on the maps and notes spread across the conference room table. “Do we really have this under control, Andy?”

Another turned, glaring at him. “You’ve ignored every damn suggestion that we’ve offered, preferring to focus only on your own ideas. You are gunning for that promotion back in Washington, DC. And ignoring everything we’ve tried to offer here.”

Four other agents nodded, pointing out the suggestions that they’d offered over the past few days, all of which Andy had rejected out of hand.

“Your only plan of attack is for us to drive around the rural roads, looking for suspicious activities. You’re discounting the data analysis, the financial activities, and the undercover options in favor of just having us run around looking for houses that are big enough to hide several kidnapped women and their keepers.”

“It’s a good plan!” Andy argued.

Mick was done with his idiocy. “You’re done, Andy. I’ve already called your boss and explained that we don’t want you on the investigation. You will be getting a call in the next few minutes letting you know that…” Before Mick could reply, Andy’s phone rang. He picked up his phone and glared at the incoming call. Then his face hardened and he pointed his pen at Mick. “We’re not done,” he snarled, then took the call, stomping out of the conference room.

Mick waited until the door closed behind him before he turned back to the group.

It seemed that everyone took a long, slow deep breath, relieved to have the obnoxious “boss” off of the investigation.

Mick turned and looked at everyone, gazing into their eyes as he scanned the people sitting around the conference room table. “Okay, now that he’s out of the way, I think we should seriously consider Ella’s suggestion. If we had sent out agents dressed up in red dresses to several of the bars around town, that might entice the people who have frequented the victims of this operation.” He looked around at the others. “But if you have other ideas, I want to hear them. Give me options. Whatever you’ve got. With Andy gone, I want everything on the table and we’ll brainstorm a new plan.”

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