Page 66 of SEAL's Promise
Rachelle ignored their banter, growing more uneasy the closer they walked to the Truman Building. Cal must have sensed her distress because he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side.
Fifteen minutes before her interview, Rachelle and Wolf Pack entered the building. After submitting to multiple screenings for weapons, they were issued visitors badges and escorted to the appropriate floor.
A man dressed in a charcoal suit, white shirt, and red tie met them when they stepped off the elevator. He focused on Rachelle. “Rachelle Carter?”
She nodded.
“Come with me, please.”
Cal threaded his fingers through hers. “Lead the way.”
The man frowned. “Not you. Just her.”
“No. I stay with her, or she doesn’t go. End of discussion. Your boss agreed to my stipulation.”
“Who are you?”
“Contact your boss.”
The man scowled at Cal as he slid his phone from his pocket. “Remain here,” he snapped, and moved away to make a call.
“What if he doesn’t agree?” Rachelle whispered.
“We leave.” Cal squeezed her hand. “My presence during the interrogation was non-negotiable.”
Rachelle made a face. “I prefer the term interview.”
The expression on Red Tie’s face darkened the longer he spoke on the phone. Finally, he shoved the phone into his pocket and stalked toward them. “Follow me.”
She and Cal trailed Red Tie until he stopped at one door, opened it, and gestured for them to go inside.
Cal stepped into the room first, his body blocking her from the view of the occupants. A moment later, Cal stepped aside for Rachelle to enter the room.
Three men stared at her. The oldest stood, prompting the others to follow suit after a beat.
“Please, sit down,” the man said, indicating two seats across from the trio. He looked at Red Tie. “That will be all, Gerald. I’ll call when we’re ready for you to escort them from the building.”
“Yes, sir.” The door closed with a soft click.
“Thank you for coming, Ms. Carter. I’m Steve Meyer. This is Roger Benson and Ken Caldwell. In light of Tim Garner’s death, I’m sure you understand our need for information.”
“Of course. I’m sorry for your loss. Tim was a good man. My condolences to his friends and family.”
Meyer inclined his head. “Thank you.” He turned to Cal. “You must be Cal Taylor. Brent Maddox speaks highly of you.”
Benson snorted. “Maddox also said you were as immovable as a rock. He’s right. The lady doesn’t need a bodyguard.”
“Ms. Carter is safe here,” Caldwell said. “We have strong security measures.”
Cal eyed the three men. “I don’t trust anyone I haven’t personally vetted. Rachelle is important to me.”
Meyer frowned. “Maddox said you’re Ms. Carter’s bodyguard. Is that all you are to her?”
“My role in her life isn’t your business.”
Silence filled the room, tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
The other man blinked. “My apologies.” He shifted his attention to Rachelle. “Before we begin, would you like water, coffee, or tea? I’ll have Gerald bring your choice.”