Page 10 of Micah

“Are you telling me that you’re not in your suit, Agent Turner?”

He chuckled. “No. I like to be comfortable when I fly.”

“So…what are you wearing?” she asked in a low tone of voice which sounded entirely too sexy to him but he could hear the laughter in her voice.

“Jeans, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots.”

She burst out laughing. “You are not.”

“I am. I was born and raised in Wyoming. It’s one reason I requested to be transferred there. My dad still lives there on his ranch. I grew up working that ranch until I left for college. I was riding a horse before I could walk and when I visit my dad, I dress the part. We usually go riding together so, yeah, I’m a cowboy at heart.”

“Now, that I’d love to see.”

“You’ll see when I get home. I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right. Has Coby been by?”

“Not yet.”

“He’ll be there soon. I know he’ll check on you. Gotta go. I couldn’t get a flight out until tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow evening?” There was a moment of silence and he knew she wasn’t happy about being alone that long, but thenshe spoke again. “All right. Be careful big bad FBI agent.”

He chuckled. “You too, pixie.”

He hung up and shook his head. She was trouble and he’d love to see just how much trouble he could get into with her. Sighing, he quickly changed clothes and left the hotel to drive to the prison. He wasn’t looking forward to this at all.

Once he’d passed through various levels of security, a guard escorted Micah down a hallway to an interrogation room. He stood, leaning against the wall while he waited for White to enter. He’d be shackled to the table for safety reasons. Micah didn’t care. He just wanted to talk to the bastard. He didn’t move from his position when the door opened, and watched as White was ushered in and pushed down onto the metal chair and a guard began locking down his shackles.

White glared up at Micah.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled at him.

“Special Agent Micah Turner, FBI.”

White sneered.

“I ain’t talking to no FBI.” He turned to the guard. “Get me back to my cell.”

“No can do, White. You’re going to talk to Agent Turner whether you like it or not,” the guard stated then left the room.

Micah pushed away from the wall, pulled the chair out across from White, and took aseat. He stared at White until the man began to fidget.

“What do you want?” White’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Call off your goon.”

White leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Micah folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Sure you do. Call him off.”

“If I did have thisgoonas you call him out there, what’s he doing?”

“I don’t have time to play games with you, White. Call him off Patsy Murphy.”

“Ah yes. Miss Murphy. What a nice looking piece of ass she is. A real shame she helped put me away or I’d have her.”

Micah blew out a laugh. “In your dreams. You’re sixty-seven years old and ugly as hell. What makes you think a beautiful woman of twenty-nine would want you?”

“I wouldn’t give her a choice,” White said smugly.

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