Page 58 of Whispers on the Water

Tilly wakes Sam gently, but Sam’s attention turns straight to me. “What’s going on?”

“Til’s gonna wear the cuffs. You just head straight to the curb. There will be a black sedan waiting. Okay?” I don’t wanna give her the opportunity to argue.

“Why?”

“Reporters,” Tilly says. I shoot Tilly a glare as Sam’s face blanches. Deciding it’s better just to put our plan to fruition, I unlock the cuffs and toss them to Tilly. She snaps them over her wrist and laughs. “Yeah, I can see how this would be hot.”

All three of us chuckle nervously. The idea to bring Tilly along, at her insistence, of course, was really smart. Without her, I don’t know if Sam would have even let me into the hotel room. As much as I wish I could be everything Sam ever needs, I have to admit, what Tilly and Sam share is beautiful.

As Sam gets up, rubbing her wrists, she announces, “I guess I’ll see you guys in a bit,” and hurries away to blend into the crowd; I lose sight of her as she slips behind an older couple as we all disembark from the plane. I admired her courage, but the weight of the situation presses heavily on me as Tilly and I prepared to face the reporters swarming just beyond the gate.

The reporters descended on us the moment we stepped off the plane, their questions sharp and relentless. “Elaine! Why’d you do it?”

“Any chance of cutting a deal with the DA?”

“Where’s the gun?” Handcuffed and trying to shield her eyes from flashing cameras, Tilly remains silent as I guide us through the chaos. The two of us navigate through the cluster fuck, not answering or even acknowledging the hounds in our shadow. Somewhat unscathed, we leave the terminal and head straight towards the curb, where the undercover police car waits. If everything goes according to plan, Sam will be hidden in the back. Tilly gets in first, in the passenger seat, and I get into the back. Sure enough, Sam is there, her face buried in her hands.

The officer wasted no time, starting the car. “Hey Sanderson, guess you brought a consolation prize too?” I forced a chuckle, replying, “Yep. But be careful, she bites.” Turning to Sam, I see silent tears dripping off her chin, a sight that twists my heart.

A rage boils inside me. We should have insisted on a private flight or not arresting her until we were on American soil. But there’s nothing to be done about that now. I’m well aware that we aren’t alone. Letting the FBI, or anyone for that matter, know how deep my feelings go for Sam is not an option. Still, I can’t resist. My knuckle goes under her chin and tilts her face up. “You okay?”

She sniffles and nods.

“Good because it’ll be the same at the courthouse.” It’s tough love time, even if I hate it.

The officer driving is nodding along. “We’ll get out under the sally port, but the vultures will be waiting.”

Sam, wiping her eyes, voiced her fear, “Are they going to put me in a cell?”

I can only offer a shrug. “Maybe for a while. The paperwork can take some time, but I’ll push to make it as quick as possible. Penny is already there.”

Tilly turns from the passenger seat, her cuffed hands jingle as she moves. “Babe, this is just the circus. People will get bored once they realize you’re not an adorable monkey banging cymbals together.”

There’s a small smile on Sam’s face at the ridiculous and nonsensical metaphor, but still, she’s reserved. Chewing on her bottom lip, she asks, “And if they don’t?”

Without missing a beat, Tilly offered a daring solution, “Then we run back to Costa Rica.” Her words sent a chill through me. The possibility of Sam not being acquitted was too real, her potential fate in a federal prison looming over us like a dark cloud.

The thought of Sam, vibrant and full of life, confined to a prison cell struck a deep fear in me. She thrived in the sunlight and needed the ocean’s embrace. I haven’t known her long, but it was clear that she wouldn’t be the same without these things. The days she missed surfing when we were together in Costa Rica were awful. Quite frankly, those were the days we fought the most. I hate even thinking about it, but my Sam is kind of a grumpy mess without her time on the water.

Exhaling deeply, I tried to push away the mounting worry. “No use thinking about the ‘what if’s,’ Sam. Your sister sounded confident that this arrest was just a formality. The lawyers and her are all very sure you’re not guilty.” Conversations with Penny during Sam’s absence had given me insight beyond what Sam knew, yet with the company of an unfamiliar officer; discretion is paramount. My face is scrunched up, a healthy mix of frustration and concern. I hate not being able to reassure her more, to touch her and kiss away the worries. I settle for a pat on the shoulder instead, like a fucking coach sending in a relief pitcher. It’s almost pathetic, but she gives me a grateful smile.

Arriving at the courthouse, history seemed to repeat itself with the swarm of reporters echoing our earlier encounter at the airport. The sally port is practically blocked. We all get out as soon as the large garage door is closed behind us. Guiding Tilly nto the station, there are ten officers waiting. This whole thing has been so blown out of proportion, but the media does love a scandal, and Sam has been on the run for nearly a decade. When one of the uniforms tries to haul Tilly to booking, I stop them. “She’s Sam.” I point to Sam and then to Tilly. “This is a decoy.”

“Decoy? What is she, a mob boss?” one officer quipped, her tone laced with skepticism.

Her dismissive remark set my pulse racing. “She’s a human and doesn’t really have the capacity for all this bullshit. Maybe you could do your job and clear the entrance to the sally port next time.” Beside me, Tilly’s body tensed. She knows I’m seconds from losing my shit.

“Don’t,” she whispers under her breath. Clenching my jaw, I give her a mumbled curse word as my only reply.

We just need to get through this crap, and then we can go to Penny’s house. At least Sam’s sister knows about our relationship, or at least that we had one previously. Though we slept in the same bed the night before and shared one hell of a kiss, I don’t really know where we stand right now.

I need to be careful and slow. Not just for appearances but because I know Sam’s going through a lot. The last thing she needs is some horndog chasing after her.

When we’re led to the booking area, Sam’s expression—one of pure sorrow—stops me in my tracks. Moving to her side, I can’t hide my protective nature, not when it comes to Sam. “If you aren’t absolutely necessary for the booking process, Out! Now!” I shout, my rough voice bouncing off the walls. Technically, I have no status here. Yes, I’m an FBI agent, but that doesn’t mean I outrank anyone at a Police Station. This is their case; I just brought her in.

Thankfully, no one argues with me, and the room empties until only one officer remains. “Fingerprints,” she simply stated, guiding us to the machine.

As we complete the formalities, we’re led into a holding room where Sam’s face remains blank. “What now?” she asks. There’s a weight of uncertainty that’s hovering around her. Gone was my confident, sexy, free-spirited woman. In her place is this almost childlike creature without any ability to feel anything other than fear. She’s a frightened shell of herself, and I fucking hate it.

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