An FBI agent and a Mafia princess in
love--career suicide.
FBI Special Agent Alex
MacGregor has a bad habit of making and
breaking promises. Over the years this
habit has brought him heartbreak…and
broken some hearts as well. But now his
older sister has disappeared. Vowing to
find her, he takes leave from the
Chicago FBI field office's Violent
Crimes Task Force and heads to upstate
New York. This is one promise he’ll
keep. Even if it means facing sexy Bette
Smithson again, the beauty he rescued
six months earlier and left behind with
a kiss and another broken promise.
Note: Professionally
edited. All new material never before
released.
The door opened. The
detective stomped in, shoulders rigid.
Behind him, tall, confident, and looking
better than any man had a right to was
none other than Special Agent Alex
MacGregor. A mixture of relief and
something else best left unacknowledged
flooded through Bette. Breathing came
easier. Now that Double-O was here,
everything would be all right.
“This federal agent here
says you called him in on the
case. Why’s that?”
“Maybe because he’s her
brother.” Okay, her tone that
time was a little on the snarky side.
Not counting summer tourists,
Canandaigua was a smallish town. Curious
he didn’t already know Alex.
“What’s your connection
to Agent MacGregor?”
“We met…once.” Irritated,
she shot Alex a look. Why wasn’t
he explaining their connection himself?
“He helped me out of a bad situation and
got me a job in Jackie’s office.”
“If it’s all right with
you, the agent wants to sit in on this
interview.”
“Of course.” She glanced
up at Alex’s tall figure. He wasn’t
acting like they had any connection at
all. In fact, he was doing a superb job
of avoiding her gaze. His stance was
rigid, as if he had a poker up his back
passage. “No objections. I want to help
anyway I can. And I wouldn’t have called
him in the first place if it hadn’t been
an emergency.”
There, chew on that.
Alex’s eyebrow twitched,
but beyond that, he didn’t react to her
sarcastic tone.
Then his stance relaxed.
He went so far as to fold his arms
across his chest and lean against the
wall, but no hint of his smile played
about his mouth. His icy-blue gaze
caught hers. “Start from the beginning,
Bette.” His voice was deep and resonant.
Her body shuddered a bit, but she
clenched her jaw. Not like an uptight
and upright feeb and a runaway Mafia
princess would ever have any kind of
relationship beyond a booty call. And
the chances for that were growing less
likely by the second.
“I’ll handle the
interview.” The detective bristled and
assumed his previous position across the
table. “You’re just here to observe,
Agent MacGregor.” He smiled, smoothed
his mustache somewhat self-consciously,
then said, “Start from the beginning,
Miss Smithson.”
She gave an eye roll but
started the story for what seemed like
the fifth or sixth time. “It was a
little after closing. Jackie was due to
head over to the twenty-four-hour
emergency vet clinic. The other
employees had already left. I’d just
finished the accounts for the week. We
locked up and walked out into the
parking lot together when a big SUV
pulled in and parked. I’d already opened
my car door, but I heard him say his cat
was sick. I asked Jackie if she wanted
me to stay and give her a hand, but she
said she could handle it, and I should
go on home and have a great weekend. I
left, and that’s the last I saw of her.”
“What about the man? Can
you describe him?”
She shook her head. “Not
his face. He was wearing a black hoodie.
But he was tall—about Alex’s—Agent
MacGregor’s height but heavier. Not so
trim, I mean.” She shot a quick glance
in his direction. He frowned, head
cocked to the side. Yes, indeed he was
lean-muscled and trim, like one of those
soap opera stars with six-pack abs.
Strong. Capable. And,
dammit, even more handsome than she
remembered.
“What about his voice?
Any accent?”
“Definitely an Upstater.
Nothing else distinctive about it.”
“Weren’t you concerned
about leaving your boss alone with a
stranger?”
“In Canandaigua? No. In
fact, when they went inside, she turned
on the lights and I heard her laugh. So,
I figured it was someone she knew.”
“Where did you go after
that?”
“Home. I live in Jackie
and Brad’s basement apartment.”
“And when did you
discover she was missing?”
“I kept hearing the
upstairs house phone ring. Finally, my
cell phone rang. It was the assistant at
the emergency clinic wanting to know
where Jackie was. That’s when I really
got worried. I tried calling her
husband—he was in New York City for a
seminar—but all I got was his voice
mail.”
She met Alex’s gaze.
Tried to read his expression. Failed. “I
called the—uh, 911. After that, I called
Alex—uh, Agent MacGregor, early this
morning. Around five, our time.” She
spread her hands on the table. “That’s
it. That’s all I know.”
“Could Dr. Stinnett be
having an affair and just took off with
the gentleman and his alleged sick cat?”
“No.” She shook her head
vigorously. The very idea. “She’s
devoted to her family. She’d never
do anything like that.”
“And Mr. Stinnett? Off in
New York.” The detective wagged his
head. “Couldn’t be reached.”
“Still?” That didn’t
sound too good. She shot a surreptitious
glance at Alex. No reaction.
“Oh, we got hold of him
this morning.” The detective nodded with
a smirk. “He’s on his way home.”
“Good.” She started to
rise. “Is that all, Detective?”
“Not so fast. I have
another question or two.”
Wasn’t it Columbo who
always had another question or two? She
sat, an uneasy sensation crawling along
the pit of her stomach. “Okay?”
“What about you
and Mr. Stinnett? Maybe you’d like to
move upstairs and play house with your
boss’s husband?”
“What? No!” Appalled, she
rose halfway, hovered, then sat back
down. “And that’s a totally asinine
suggestion.” She cut her gaze to Alex.
Surely he wouldn’t believe she’d be so
conniving.
“Wouldn’t be the first
time a hot little number like yourself
thought she could better her situation
by getting rid of her rival.”
She shot the detective a
fake smile, then batted her lashes.
“Thank you so much for saying I’m a ‘hot
little number,’ but you’re an ass-hat.”
This time, she stood and set her hands
on her hips. “If you’re arresting me, do
it. Otherwise, I’ve told you all I know,
and I’m out of here. If you need me
again, I’ll be at The Villager eating
breakfast.”
“Have your breakfast, but
don’t—”
“Leave town? Yeah, I know
the drill. Let me tell you something.
Leaving town while the kindest woman
I’ve ever known, not counting my mother,
is missing. Well, that’s the last thing
I’d ever do.”
She turned to Alex. “I
don’t know about you, but I’m blowing
this joint. Detective Shepherd or Spitz,
or whatever the hell his name is, has
managed in the space of five minutes to
smear your sister, her husband, and
me. I’ve had enough. If I’m not
under arrest, I’m out of here.”
Heading for the door and
holding her breath, she hesitated long
enough to make sure the long arm of the
law wasn’t bent on stopping her…at least
for the moment.
To hell with Double-O and
his stuck-up attitude. What had she
expected anyway? Roses and
champagne—not.
