“What kind of work do you do for him?” she asks.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling a chill. “I’m a real estate agent.”
“Does Bob use that warehouse for any real estate business purposes?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then how do you know about it?”
“He told me about it shortly after he bought it. He was excited because he got a good deal.”
Stevens paces and doesn’t ask any more questions.
But Durango does. “And he’s all right with you stopping by anytime over there?” He points across the street.
“I thought it was okay. I usually call him and let him know I’m on my way, but the other day, I didn’t. And yes, I regret that now.” I shiver again.
“Here,” Hunter says, taking off his jacket and placing it over my coat. I feel silly, essentially having two coats on until his fingers brush against my neck. It’s like he can’t help but touch me. But his facial expression gives nothing away.
The jacket smells like him. A mix of his soap and deodorant. He doesn’t seem to wear cologne. Whatever itis, I really like it. I close my eyes. No, don’t go there. This was only a nice gesture, and I appreciate it. No more.
“Tell me exactly what happened that day you went to see Bob at the warehouse,” Stevens says.
I tell her every detail, including that I don’t know if Bob saw me or not. He hasn’t said anything about it and was okay with me taking a few days off for relaxation. That was the excuse I gave him for needing a vacation.
Then the day after I was at the warehouse, Bob sent me to that building. The one that exploded. No way that was a coincidence.
Hunter’s hands go to his hips. “That was the day before the building explosion?”
I stare out the window. “Yes.”
“The police ruled out Clinton as a target. You were the target, Savvy,” Hunter says.
Clinton wasn’t the target. I think I’m going to be sick. I scan for a garbage bin, anything. I spot a bucket in the corner and run to it. I vomit.
“She needs to be in protective custody,” Stevens says. “She’s a witness and now a target. We will need your testimony.”
“Wait! What?” I ask. “Testify against Bob? Then he’ll know I told the authorities about him.” No, I can’t. Tears well in my eyes. “If he finds out I turned him in, I’m dead.”
Hunter is beside me. “Savvy, look at me.” His voice is calm. Too calm. That scares me more than shouting would. “Breathe with me,” he says.
I am breathing fast. I do as he says, and I take one big, deep breath and then slowly let it out.
“Again,” he instructs.
There’s something in his eyes, something that flickers too quickly to name. Is it concern? Guilt? Something more?
“Okay, I agree with Stevens that you need to be protected. As for testifying, it may not be necessary.” Hunter gives Stevens a look, and she doesn’t say any more. “Now, did you drive here?”
I nod. “I planned to go back to your sister’s place.”
“That sounds good,” Hunter says. “I’ll check up on you tomorrow. But first, I’m going to walk you out. Where are you parked?”
“A few blocks over.”
Stevens doesn’t object, thankfully. We walk in silence. I’m not up for small talk, and he doesn’t strike me as one who enjoys it anyway.
By the time we get to my car, I’m clear-headed again. “What is going on? Why are you being so nice to me?”
