Page 42 of Somebody's Watching Me
“He’s not in trouble,” Liam cut in. “Klausen is grasping at straws because he doesn’t want this to be connected to Toby.”
Klausen chuckled. “Thank you for your input,Mr. Cohen, but unlike other agency members, I do this job without bias hanging over my head and attempt to look at the big picture.”
Taking a few steps, Liam opened his mouth to reply, but Jamison interrupted him. “Can we stop the pissing contest?” Pushing off the couch, she marched to stand between the men. “Three people attackedus and tried to kidnap me. That’s not how corporate warfare works, Klausen.”
On the couch, Simone clapped, and Rowan held back a grin. He never doubted that his woman got her resilience from her mother, and while Simone might not like him, he sure as hell liked her.
Samuel remained as he was, clenching his jaw tightly. “Don’t use words Klausen doesn’t understand, Jamison. The basics of business are likely above his pay grade.”
With an exaggerated eye roll, Klausen produced a phone from his pocket. Tapping at the screen, he shoved it in Jamison’s face. “Please provide me with a statement regarding the events of last night.”
What in the holy hell was up with this guy? Rowan met Annabeth’s gaze, and she only offered him a shrug as if to say,yeah, we know he’s awful.
Spine straight and head high, Jamison relayed everything quickly and concisely. Klausen didn’t ask any questions, only stopping her occasionally to insert a comment.
“The man named Bruce moved like, I don’t know how to say it, but it was as if he knew what he was doing,” Jamison said. “And he wore expensive cologne.”
“He wore expensive cologne?” Klausen heaved out a sigh. “Because he stopped to tell you this in the middle of a kidnapping?”
“I know what expensive smells like.”
“Military,” Rowan said before Klausen spat out another condescending remark. “I’d bet my money on current or ex-military for both men.”
Klausen leaned to the side, peering around Jamison at Liam, who stood at her back. “Which one did you shoot?”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Jamison looked back at her ex, and Liam spared her a glance before answering. According to the gossip he’d obtained from Annabeth, this was the first time the two of them hadseen each other since the break-up, and Rowan couldn’t imagine a more awkward timing for a reunion.
“From what I could see in the dark, I hit the smaller of the two men,” Liam told Klausen. “But I have no idea what took out the woman.”
“There was something in the woods. It freaked them out.” Jamison visibly shivered. “And the man you shot said his name was Michael Sinclair.”
The moment the name crossed her lips, Liam was spinning Jamison around. “Give me the stats.”
“Six foot two, deep brown hair, blue eyes. Very attractive. Muscular build, and in command of the other two.” Jamison recited the information as if it had been waiting to explode out of her. “I agree with Rowan now that I’m stopping to think it through. He had an authoritative tone. It made you feel like there would be severe consequences if you didn’t listen.”
Liam and Klausen went utterly still, with Klausen’s mouth opening and closing in shock.
“It’s not him, Cohen. It can’t be,” Klausen stammered out finally. “Michael Sinclair is dead.”
Chapter 11
The last time she saw Liam go this pale was when he left their apartment the day they ended things.
“Michael Sinclair.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he locked her in place. “You’re sure?”
“You know I am.”
Rick Klausen got ahold of himself and waved a hand in dismissal. Out of all the agents the Bureau had to offer, their family had been stuck with this asshole for the last two years. “She’s mistaken, or it’s someone pretending to be him.”
“And if not?” Liam straightened, his hands sliding down her arms but not letting go. “A body was never found.”
“That doesn’t matter. There’s undeniable proof that he was in that building when it exploded,” Klausen said. “Exploded, Cohen. The lack of a body means nothing.”
Jamison cut her eyes to her father, who was advancing on Klausen. He was furious, never handling being kept out of the loop very well. “Who the hell are you two talking about?”
“Michael Sinclair.” Liam released his hold, and Jamison was sorry for it, but didn’t let her disappointment show. “Domestic terrorist. The type that likes to blow things up to make his point.”
“Liked,” Klausen corrected. “The man died in Omaha two years ago.”
