The Lost Tycoon (4 page)

“Hey. It’s been almost a year since you disappeared off the face of the planet. I wouldn’t exactly call that simple. I’ve had your picture on my wall that entire time, so I would hope that I could recognize you.”

She waited. He hadn’t asked her another question. Those green eyes looked somewhere over his shoulder, and he knew she’d rather be any other place than sitting in this room with him. It was time to drop the “good cop” role.

“Are you seeing anyone, Ms. Elton?” Where in the hell had that question come from? It hadn’t been what he’d been expecting to say. Her personal life was none of his business, and it certainly had no impact on the case in any way.

“I… What does that matter?” she asked, but he just looked back at her, his expression impassive as he waited for her answer. “No,” she finally murmured.

Good. He didn’t know why that pleased him — she was a witness, dammit. It would be breaking every sort of ethical rule he knew even to consider asking her out. He’d known the moment he’d asked that question that he was crossing a line. He should have retracted it. But he’d be showing her a chink in his armor, and that wasn’t a wise move at this point in the questioning.

“How long did you date Jesse Marcus?” There. That was a legitimate question. At least he was reining himself in.

“It was a while ago, and I’d rather not discuss him.” She lifted her hands to fiddle with her hair again. The way she tugged at the strands was a good gauge of her feelings, Bryson found. The faster she pulled, the more distressed she was. When she slowed down, she was relaxing.

He was already learning her moves — learning what made her tick, or at least a part of it —and he’d been with her only a few hours.

She had slender hands. They were also the hands of a woman not afraid to work, not afraid to get her nails dirty or broken, but still, her fingers were slim and pretty, and they looked as if they should be adorned with gold and jewels, not rough from scrubbing pots and pans and using industrial cleaners.

This was now past irrational and into the Twilight Zone. He’d never before had such a difficult time focusing on a witness and on keeping an interrogation going in the right direction.
Pull yourself together.

“Did you participate in any criminal activities with Mr. Marcus?”

Her head snapped up and fire lit up her eyes. That had certainly pushed a few of her buttons. Good. He didn’t want her to be guilty.

“Do I need a lawyer, Mr. Winchester?” Her tone was strong as she once again met his gaze.

Though it was foolish of him, he felt pride for her strength, pride for her ability to stand strong in the midst of all this terror. This woman would
fight
— fight to put Jesse behind bars where he belonged. Bryson just had to convince her that the fight wouldn’t kill her, that she could be kept safe.

“You are certainly entitled to one,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He saw that the movement made her tense up. Did she honestly think he’d be reaching for his gun? Maybe. That was the only kind of law she was familiar with right now. He’d have to show her that not all men who carried a gun liked to terrorize others.

He pulled out a business card and walked over to her slowly, holding it out, and waiting for her to accept it. “He’s good — very good.” Bryson stepped back and waited.

She held the card, running her fingers along the edge, across the face, feeling the way the expensive lettering rose from the surface. The lawyer was a personal friend of his, and the man hadn’t lost a case in…well…ever, at least that Bryson knew of.

“He’s one of the attorneys who have been secured for the witnesses on this case, to answer questions, address concerns, and to take statements when you’re ready. He’s not on the prosecution’s team; he’s just offered his services for witness questions. If you don’t trust him after you meet, you can get a referral for another attorney, but I’m telling you, he’s good, one of the best I know, and I don’t trust a lot of lawyers. You don’t have to take just the word of our team on this, Misty, but please give him a chance and speak with him.”

“I did see some…stuff…”

“That’s good, Misty. Tell me what you know,” he said, keeping his tone smooth, polite, trustworthy.

“I just don’t know if I can do this.” Her fingers began to tremble.

“You can, Misty. This is the right thing to do. I’ll keep you safe and then that man will never hurt another person again — will never hurt you again.” It was a vow he hoped to keep. If his agency said she wasn’t needed, his hands would be tied. After only a few hours, he felt a need to keep her protected, and the only way would be if she talked.

She looked up, paused a couple of heartbeats before barely whispering: “Not everything is so black and white. There is very much a gray area when it comes to the law.”

Bryson knew this. He hated it, but he was well aware.

“We need to stay on track, Ms. Elton. I think that is wisest.” He’d reverted to her last name when he felt a flash of desire to pull her into his arms — to comfort her.
Focus on the freaking job.

“I agree, Mr. Winchester,” she said rigidly. “I’m very tired now, though. Would you mind if we continued tomorrow?”

He wasn’t going to get anything else from her tonight. She was finished with talking, and to push it now would probably be pointless.

“Axel will be back at any time with dinner.”

“I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

She stood up and moved toward the door to her room.

“Ms. Elton,” he called out, and though her back stiffened, she turned her head and looked back at him. “I’ll be right next door, in the morning.”

His last remark was meant to reassure her that she wouldn’t be alone, but it was also a warning so she wouldn’t try to run.

He was a good guy — he took pride in that. But it would be a mistake to think that made him weak. Bryson had an edge of pure danger running through his veins. He thrived on it. And that’s probably what made him one hell of an agent.

“Do you think that Jesse Marcus constitutes a threat to your life?”

Misty looked up at the two agents and wondered if they were mentally unstable. How many times and in how many ways had she already told them that Jesse would kill her the first chance he got?

“I know this seems repetitive, Misty, but if we are to put you in the witness protection program, there has to be a direct threat against you. We need this on record that you are in danger,” Bryson said, his tone gentle.

“I don’t
think
Jesse will try to kill me. I
know
he will, Agent Winchester. Jesse told me that when he was through with me, he’d make sure I was never able to divulge his secrets. He told me he’d killed former girlfriends. He won’t hesitate to take my life. I don’t want to testify, but if you are going to force me to do this, then I won’t agree unless you can guarantee my safety. I think that’s a fair trade-off,” she said, her arms crossed as she looked at both men.

“We agree. There have been witnesses not in protection who have come up missing. I’m not telling you this to frighten you; I’m telling you because Jesse is not locked up at this point, and you need to be aware of that. You’ve done an excellent job so far of keeping away from him, but he knows we’re closing in. He knows it won’t be much longer until we issue the arrest warrant.”

“I understand that. But is there any way for me to just continue to hide out until this is all over? Can’t you get him behind bars without my testimony?” This would be ideal for her.

“I wish I could, but from what we’ve found on you so far, we believe that you’re a valuable asset to this case. We don’t need the whole story right now. We encourage you to speak to your lawyer, look at your options. This process isn’t short. It takes months, even years sometimes, but if you want our help, we need you to sign notarized statements that you will testify if you are called upon to do so.”

Bryson wasn’t being cruel as he sat across the table from her in the local FBI offices. She’d absolutely refused to go to the police station. There was no way Jesse wouldn’t hear about exactly where she was if that happened.

She didn’t trust the cops, and she barely trusted the FBI. She’d rather this entire mess were behind her, that she was on the other side of it, finally living a somewhat normal life.

“Then what happens if I sign the document?”

“We get you set up in a new location. You use an alias, get a job, go on living your life. We will check in on you, make sure you’re fine, and that’s where you’ll stay until the hearing. When it’s over, you can either keep the name, stay in the location, and resume your life as the new person, or you can go back to who you were,” Axel said.

“I don’t get any time to think about this?”

“I’m sorry, but you need to decide now.” They’d already told her this several times.

If she didn’t do what they wanted, they were well within their rights to lock her up, and she’d be locked up in a county jail, a place where Jesse would have much easier access to her.

Looking at the two options before her, she decided that testifying was the lesser of evils. Still, speaking to the attorney seemed a really good idea, even if that frightened her, too.

She was so sick and tired of being afraid. How dare Jesse do this to her, make her into such a weak woman? It wasn’t okay, not okay at all. She was sick of the men in her life having such power over her. It had been that way since she was a small child.

None of it was her fault, but that’s just the fate she’d been handed.

“Fine. I’ll sign your piece of paper,” she finally said.

“I’m really glad to hear that, Misty,” Bryson replied, and their eyes connected for just a moment, a moment that had her stomach tightening.

It wasn’t attraction. She couldn’t possibly feel that toward him. It was fear. That had to be what it was. She lowered her eyes quickly, unwilling to look too deep.

There was a knock on the door, and then an intern stepped in with their lunch and set it on the table. Misty’s stomach rumbled, surprising her. She hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, but her nerves had been tied in knots, making it impossible.

Now that she’d made a solid decision, even if it wasn’t an ideal solution, her stress levels were actually going down and the thought of food was heavenly.

“I’m going to get the paperwork,” Bryson said. He stood and followed the intern out, leaving her sitting there with Axel, who made her much more nervous than Bryson did.

She didn’t know why, as he was the one always cracking jokes, but the guy seemed more lethal to her. Maybe it was the almost cold look in his eyes. She just didn’t know.

But as he passed her a cheeseburger, fries, and a shake, she made sure not to brush his fingers with hers. After several minutes passed, and her hunger pangs eased, she grew more curious, and she found herself wanting to talk.

“How long have you and Agent Winchester worked together?” Nerves shot through her as he looked over her way. Damn, this guy was intimidating.

Axel stuffed a few fries in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, and then answered her question. “Five years.”

Taking a deep breath, she asked him the question of the hour, one she should have already asked.

“Why am I so important in all of this? I don’t understand. There must be a hundred — a thousand — other women who would love to testify against Jesse. I just want to live my life, put all of this behind me. I just want to be free of these stupid mistakes I’ve made.” Her voice gained force and clarity during her impassioned speech.

One look from his cold hazel eyes and she backed down. Damn, this man’s interrogation tactics must be out of this world.

“Not all cases are so black and white, Misty. The more evidence we obtain on this piece of scum, the more likely we are to lock him up and throw away the key. If he stays on the street wearing a badge — carrying a gun — then no one is safe. Don’t you understand that?”

He seemed genuinely perplexed that she wasn’t taking this more seriously. It wasn’t that she thought it was a joke; it was just that she didn’t want to face the giant, and that’s what Jesse was to her — a giant man with a giant fist, and an even bigger temper.

It would take Jesse only seconds to kill her. He could have her neck snapped before she ever got the chance to call out for help. He could leap across a table and strangle her before anyone even thought about stopping him. If Jesse knew he was going to jail anyway, what would it matter to him if he killed her? The man was that crazy — crazy enough to get in one last victim before being locked up for good. A courtroom full of witnesses would be neither here nor there to him.

“I don’t trust people,” she said as she sipped on her vanilla shake. Her stomach was feeling much better now.

“I figured that out when you Tased my partner,” he said with a chuckle.

“You didn’t seem in a hurry to help him,” she countered, feeling only a bit guilty over the whole Taser incident. Bryson
had
grabbed her, after all…

“Nah, Bryson’s a tough guy. We’ve been Tasered before.”

Her eyes widened at his words. He’d said them so casually. “You have? Why?” Maybe it was another crazy witness, she thought.

“It’s all part of the training,” he said casually, as if getting thousands of volts of electricity shot into your body happened all the time.

She shook her head, then continued with the questions.

“Does Bryson ever give up?” She knew the answer before Axel spoke.

“Not once since I’ve known him, and that’s been a lot of years. He
will
win this case. He doesn’t know the meaning of losing. We have a powerful attorney who wants Jesse’s head on a platter. None of us will stop until that happens.”

The victory in his eyes seemed to say the case was already won, though Misty knew that was far from true. For the moment, at least, Jesse was very much free — free to come after her any time he wanted.

The conversation must have been over, because Axel stood and took their garbage to the wastebasket. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

With that, she found herself alone in the interrogation room.

When the two men came back in, everything seemed to move at warp speed. The documents were placed before her, and she was left alone again as she read through them. After an hour, she found there really wasn’t a good reason not to sign.

Once she’d turned the papers over, she was escorted outside, transferred to a jet and on her way to her new life with a new identify. Well, a new identity until this was all over.

And no longer than that, she vowed. Because as she sat down in her small home and looked at her new driver’s license, with the name Magnolia Linhart and a different date of birth, she knew she didn’t want this to be her.

Yes, her life had been anything but perfect, but Misty Elton was who she was; it was the name the children’s services department had given her, anyway. It was all she knew, and she didn’t want to start again.

This would only be temporary, right?

Misty was about to find out how slowly the wheels of justice turned.