Page 11 of Out of Sight

“How long until they figure out something is wrong?” he asked, tapping the screen on his laptop awake again, typing vigorously. “How much time do you think we have?”

“I left the office maybe half an hour ago? They went into the back to talk to someone, and it all depends on how long that meeting is. They’ll notice I’m gone eventually, even if they haven’t yet. And when they do…”

I shuddered, remembering some of the terrifying things I’d heard Angelo scream at people, heard Carlo joke about. I didn’t want to know what they’d threaten to do to me.

A knock on the door caused me to jump. Logically it couldn’t be the Morellis coming at me here in the police precinct.

Could it?

The door opened a crack to reveal Detective Rosenberg, amusement clear on his face.

“Blake, you’re never going to believe who’s in the next room waiting to talk to you.” He glanced behind him again and let out a loud laugh.

Agent Blake rolled his eyes, but held a finger up to me. “I’ll be right back. You’ll be fine here.” The latter was a statement, not a question.

Then both men stepped outside and I was left alone.

I sat quietly at first, hands folded on my lap. Then I looked to the delicate silver watch on my wrist to check the time, trying to be patient. After a few minutes of quiet I figured I’d play a brainless game on my phone when the door opened again.

Blake entered first, an eyebrow raised as he studied me. What was going on?

He shifted to the side, letting two more men in behind him. One was Detective Rosenberg, still grinning like the birthday boy who got everything he asked for.

The other man was horrifyingly familiar. Tall. Muscular in a lean, sexy way. Olive complexion, dark hair, and deep blue eyes that met and held my own.

Oh, crap.

This was the gorgeous man from the Morelli office who distracted them long enough for me to get away. The one who clearly worked with those murdering criminals since he was so familiar with them.

I stood up, my chair scraping desperately across the tile floor. Did Blake and Rosenberg know who this was? Did they know who he worked for?

“Claire, this is Will Bracco,” Agent Blake said, watching my reaction closely. The name registered in my brain, marking the extent of betrayal I was facing. They did know who it was. They knew what he did, what he was capable of…

Oh god, and they let him in here with me.

They had to be in on it, too! Not only did they turn me in to the Morellis, they brought their resident killer in to finish the job right in the middle of the police precinct!

I backed up, putting the metal folding chair between me and the men blocking my exit. All three men took a step in my direction.

“Stop!” I demanded, looking around me for something to defend myself with. I reached for my purse again, irritated with myself for moving all the contents of it around just a moment before, otherwise I probably would’ve be able to find my pepper spray.

“It’s okay, Claire,” Blake tried to explain. “I know why he’s here.”

No shit.

I gave up trying to find the spray and instead pulled out the latest trendy Romantasy, throwing the hardcover book as hard as I could, nailing Will square in the face. He flinched as the corner of the book just barely missed his eye, hands going up in defense.

“Hey. Hey! I’m not who you think I am, sweetheart!”

“Yes, you damn well are!” I shrieked back, throwing my phone, pens, lipstick—no, throwing a tampon really wouldn’t help, so I dropped that to the floor—a hairbrush, anything with a bit of heft to it, but he and Blake just kept coming closer, hands raised like they were approaching a wild animal. “And I’m not your sweetheart!”

Detective Rosenberg stayed in the doorway, wailing out loud peals of laughter, nearly collapsing in the door frame. I grabbed the chair again, hefting it through the air toward him, angry that he found my imminent death so funny. He didn’t stop laughing even as I took the tape recorder from the table, hurling it toward him as well.

“Okay, that’s enough. Calm down,” Blake intervened with a roll of his eyes. “Will isn’t here to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

“I’ve seen him at the office! I showed you his file! He’s a criminal! He’s with them!”

“No, he’s with us,” Blake said emphatically, rushing forward to take the laptop out of my hands before I could hurl that across the room, too. “He didn’t kill Mario Costa, but he saw who did. And he’s going to help us expose the Morelli operation so they can’t hurt anyone else.” Blake exchanged alook with Detective Rosenberg who finally stopped laughing. “He’s with us now, I promise you. So let’s sit down and talk this out together.”

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