Page 74 of Maddox

“You’re worried.”

“I’m always worried,” he said while glancing around the perimeter as people came and went. He wasn’t telling me everything because we were out in the open. I already knew how he worked.

We strode through the lobby of the Marriott and my heartrate kicked up several notches.

People were watching.

Following us.

Waiting for the two of us to make a fatal mistake.

I’d been certain of it during Maddox’s insistence we walk the five blocks to the hotel. His hand had been on his weapon the entire time. My anxiety would soon be off the charts.

Maybe that was overblowing the situation we were embroiled in, but my gut told me the brutal line of questioning was an attempt at making me break. The reason was obvious.

I’d been involved in covert reporting long enough to realize when I was being followed.

Whatever form of government was involved somehow believed I had a direct connection to Alfaro. The thought continued to ravage my mind, sending my anxiety to extremely high levels.

When he stopped at the kiosk, I studied him intently. He was staring at the layout of the hotel.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, my skin prickling from the feeling of being watched.

“Options.” He scanned the perimeter again. “How did this unknown source contact you?”

“A text.”

“It was intercepted. They suspect you were provided with more information.”

“Well, shit. They had no right.”

“This is bigger than you believe.”

“Are the other women safe?”

His sigh was deep. “Some of them. They’re searching for the others. Gray wants me to hang around.”

“You’re both worried.”

“Yeah, we are. The FBI agent I was forced to speak with is on a fishing expedition, which is why you need to be careful what you say. You also might need an attorney.”

“Who was this agent?”

“Steven Wilshire.”

I sucked in my breath. “He was the agent I talked to when I received threats after the first article came out.”

Maddox’s jaw clenched. “Did anyone discover who threatened you?”

“Not that I’m aware of. The threats stopped after the story was no longer relevant. I always believed it was Alfaro from a distance.”

“Maybe not.” He took a deep breath, once again placing his hand on the small of my back and pushing me forward.

I couldn’t tell what he was getting at, but it was apparent he wasn’t ready to share.

We were almost at the elevators when I stopped, turning toward him. “There’s a bar over there. Can we at least have a drink together?”

The hard look on his face softened.

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