Page 96 of Stealth Mission
What a mess.
I turn my attention back to the chief, who is now writing in a small notepad, his pen angrily slashing harsh letters on the lined paper.
“Can’t you tell me anything?”
He doesn’t bother looking up. “I can tell you that you don’t need to worry about police business.”
Ungh. This man. He’s always been a pain—is well known for his bad attitude—but he seems more obstinate than usual. I run a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face, trying to regain my composure. It’s a long shot, but I have to try.
“Chief Willometa, shouldn’t I know if there’s a dangerous criminal running around in Karma?”
He slaps the notepad closed and focuses on me. It reminds me of a time or two when he lectured me and my friends when we were kids. Only this time it’s not fun and games. People’s lives are at the heart of this conversation.
“Marianna, you know this entire country has a problem with armed rebels. This whole region is dangerous and if you don’t admit that you’re a fool.”
“I know about the rebels, but they never kill anyone.”
“Which is why I’m looking for other suspects...”
His reply hangs in the air, but it’s the way his gaze swings toward Evan, my skin tightens until I feel like a piece of vacuum-sealed fruit.
Evan breaks the unbearable tension by speaking. “Sir, look into my background. I’m a SEAL. I have an outstanding service record. I have every clearance level and certification, including a permit to carry in Vandemora.”
My eyes widen.
Something clicks. Didn’t Vik say this too?
I was so busy being mad at Vik, I didn’t take time to consider this. ANavy SEAL.That explains a lot.
There’s a twitch in the chief’s brows, now as he turns his attention to a driver’s license laying on his desk. I know the handsome, angular face on the ID. The name reads, Walter Goodlove.
A false name.
Given to a cop.
Surprisingly calm, Evan says, “Contact the United States Embassy. They’ll help you get all the information. It’s all there. I have a spotless record. I’m in the country working on an approved work visa.”
I look at the man that gave me the best orgasm of my life.
He’s in Vandemora on a work visa. Not just as a tourist…
He hasn’t told me this fact. Not that I’ve asked. But that’s the only way he’s here legally. If he’s here legally…
“Working, huh?”
“I do private security work.”
The corners of the chief’s mouth angle down more as he picks the ID up and turns it over a few times. His gaze grows hard and he tilts his head toward the entrance. “I’ll do that. Have a seat, Marianna. I’ve got to make some calls.”
The office door swings closed in my face, the snap of the metal latch echoes around the jail.
I draw in a shaky breath and turn to find Evan, AKA Walt, statue still, clutching the bars.
The stony resolve on his face does something to me. Increases my nerves. Yet doubles my attraction to the man.
He’s unshakeable.
Unlike me. I guess I should have expected his next words, but the undercurrent in them still makes them sting.