“Katherine Morgan. But you can call me Kat.”
“Kat,” he repeats. “I tell you what. You guys file your report with me and I promise I’ll take a long look at it within the next two weeks—maybe even a week. And, if I see something there, I’ll most certainly investigate further.”
“Thank you, Special Agent Sheffield,” Kat says, biting her lip seductively. “I really appreciate that.” She bats her eyelashes. “What’s your first name?”
“Eric.”
“Special Agent Eric,” she purrs. “The thing is, this is an urgent matter—this is a career-making kind of case for an agent such as yourself, I swear to God.”
Holy shit. I feel like standing up and slow-clapping right now. She’s blatantly flirting to get Eric to read Sarah’s report—anyone could see that, even him—and yet, she’s so damned gorgeous and charming and unapologetic in her sensuality, he obviously doesn’t care if he’s being used.
“Henn,” Sarah interjects. “Will you please play Special Agent Sheffield that voicemail we have cued up?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Henn presses a button on his computer and a gruff male voice speaking Ukrainian fills the room.
“Yuri Navolska,” Sarah says. “About a minute after leaving that message, he sliced the external jugular vein in my neck and stabbed me in the ribcage, causing me to fall back and crack my skull on a sink ledge.”
I’ve suddenly got chills over my entire body, imagining that violence being inflicted on poor Sarah. I glance at Jonas and he’s clenching his jaw.
“If you need to see the scars on my head and torso, I’ll show you,” Sarah continues.
“No, that’s okay. I believe you.”
“Please,” Kat pleads. “These guys tried to kill my best friend. Just give us a couple hours of your time.”
Agent Eric sighs. “You’ve got more voicemails besides this one?”
“Several,” Henn says. “About all kinds of nasty stuff. Maksim Belenko’s a really bad dude—prostitution, weapons, drugs, money laundering.”
“Okay,” Eric says. He nods definitively. “Let’s dig in. We’ll go through the report together, page by page, and if it’s everything you say it is, I’ll take this to my boss today.”
Kat leaps up from her chair and gives Eric a big hug while Sarah and Henn take seats on either side of Agent Eric, their determination and excitement apparent.
I watch Kat for a long beat.
She’s obviously incredible to look at, but, watching her right now, it’s clear she’s much more than a gorgeous face (and slamming body). She’s a fucking force of nature. Smart as hell. Brilliant at reading people. Savvy. The most determined woman I’ve ever met. Which reminds me, what the hell is the email she sent me before we left for the FBI offices? God only knows what that little terrorist is up to now.
“I sent you an email, Playboy,” Kat said coyly about twenty minutes before we left our hotel. “Read it when you can.”
“Sure thing, PG,” I said.
But just then, Jonas asked me to research something about the jurisdiction of the DEA, and I got completely sidetracked.
I guess now would be a good time to read it, whatever it is—Sarah, Henn, Jonas, and Kat are busy talking about Sarah’s report, and I certainly don’t have anything to contribute to their conversation, eye candy that I am.
I quickly pull my laptop from its case and click into my email inbox. I scroll for a moment until I find Kat’s email from two hours ago. The subject line says, “Please read this.” There’s no text in the body of the message, just a Word document and three photo files attached. I click on Kat’s attached Word document and instantly have a fucking heart attack, followed immediately by a fucking boner.
“The following is my application to The Josh Faraday Club,” the document says. “All answers will be one hundred percent honest. (And, bee tee dubs, some of this stuff is kind of personal, so please keep it in confidence.)”
“Oh my God,” I blurt. I look up. Sarah, Henn, Jonas and Eric are absorbed in Sarah’s report—but Kat’s looking right at me, looking like she’s holding her breath.
She knows I’m reading it.
I feel my face turn completely red.
Kat smiles a wicked smile, motions to my computer like she’s saying, “Get back to work, asshole,” and then slowly, ever so slowly, returns her attention to the group.
I look back down at my screen, my heart beating out of my chest, and continue to read:
