36. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Nova
" I 'm Agent Fancie," a black man said, and held out his hand to me.
I shook it, and let him into my office.
"You know, I hardly ever spoke to anyone in law enforcement, and now I've talked to Savannah PD, an ADA, the freakin' Chief of Savannah PD, and now an agent from the GBI. It's almost like I'm the one who committed a crime," I quipped, sitting down on my office chair, waving a hand at my client chairs.
Agent Fancie grinned, taking a seat. "I can only imagine, Miss King."
"Nova, please. Would you like somethin' to drink?"
"Coffee would be much appreciated. I've been on the road since the crack of dawn."
I picked up the landline. "Rachel, can we have a coffee service in my office? Thanks, honey." I set the phone down, and focused on the GBI Agent. "How can I help you, Agent Fancie?"
"I want to speak with you about Sentinel Sheriff Pete Fontaine."
I felt nervous, but I didn't let it show. "Should I have a lawyer present with me?"
"It's your prerogative, Miss King, but I'm here only to collect information. You're not a person of interest in any way."
I leaned back and was wondering what to do when there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I called out, expecting Rachel.
But carrying the coffee tray was Anson.
He set the tray on my desk and smiled at Agent Fancie. "Anson Larue." He held out his hand, and the agent shook it, his eyes narrowed.
"Agent Fancie," the agent replied. "You're a ways from Sentinel. What are you doin' here, Mr. Larue?"
It was obvious that Agent Fancie found Anson suspicious as hell. Welcome to the club, buddy!
"Larue Homes has office space in Savannah Lace. I'm working from here for the near…well, probably forever." He sat next to Agent Fancie in a client chair.
Color me surprised. Did Anson just say he was going to be living in Savannah… forever ?
"How come?" The agent queried.
Anson smiled. "'Cause I'm in love with Miss King, and her career is here. So, I've moved."
"I hear you're putting Larue Mansion on the market."
Agent Fancie seemed to be well-informed, I thought.
"Yes. The headquarters for Larue Home will remain in Sentinel, but one of my senior leaders also wants to live in Savannah, so we've opened a satellite office here, and maybe eventually a second headquarters." He leaned forward and poured coffee into a cup. He added some cream to my coffee and handed it to me. "How do you take your coffee, Agent Fancie?"
"Black."
Anson poured him a cup.
I sat quietly, relieved that Anson was here. I didn't want to be alone with the agent.
"Why do you want to talk to Nova?" Anson asked. He was being his charming self, but he didn't fool me nor Agent Fancie, who was in no doubt as to Anson's stance. He was protecting me or rather pissing around the perimeter and staking his claim. The line between the two was damn close.
"I don't think you need to be privy to—"
"I'd like Anson to be here," I cut in.
Agent Fancie nodded. "Well, in that case. We're investigating organized crime around Sentinel, and we believe Sheriff Pete Fontaine is heavily involved."
"He gambles," Anson informed him.
"Yes."
"He owes some very bad people a lot of money," Anson continued.
"Yes. How do you know this, Mr. Larue?"
"Anson, please. I know because I made it my business to know. I intend to bring that fucker down for what he did to Nova."
I gasped.
"Mr. Larue—" Agent Fancie began.
"Please call me Anson."
"Anson," Agent Fancie said patiently, "what did Pete Fontaine do to Nova?"
" Anson ," I warned him.
He waved me off. "He helped frame Nova for a theft seven years ago, along with my sister and ex-fiancée."
Agent Fancie raised an eyebrow. "This sounds like an episode of Dynasty ."
I laughed softly. Anson joined me. "You have no idea," he murmured.
"How do you have information about Sheriff Fontaine, Anson?" Agent Fancie drank some coffee.
"My colleague Diego Perez has been working with a private investigator we use at Larue Homes."
"You're being very…ah…open," Agent Fancie remarked. "Usually, when people are helpful, they have an agenda."
"Fuck yeah, I have an agenda. I want Pete Fontaine out of circulation."
Agent Fancie took a deep breath. "Miss King…ah…Nova, can you answer some questions for me?"
"No," Anson replied before I could speak. "You want to talk to her? We need to have Lemon Goodwin present. She's her attorney."
I tilted my head into a shrug when the GBI agent looked at me to confirm what Anson was saying. I may not trust Anson to love me the way I needed a man to, but if he said I needed a lawyer, then well, hell, I wasn't going to fight that.
"I just have some—" the agent began.
"And you can ask them as soon as we set up a time for Lemon to be with Nova," Anson cut in, and gave him a brief smile.
"Is this what you want, Nova?" Agent Fancie asked me.
I nodded. "What he said, Agent Fancie."
He sighed. "I have you tellin' me more than I ask, and you're not letting her tell me anythin', Anson."
"I know." Anson grinned broadly. "She's got to be protected."
"And you?" the agent asked, something like amusement flickering in his eyes.
"I'm a Larue, Agent Fancie, I'm already protected."
"You think so?" he challenged.
"I know so. It's not fair, and it's not right, but it's also the fact that I'm a fuckin' Larue, and men like me usually don't get into trouble, even when we deserve it."
"I see."
I didn't think Agent Fancie saw anything except how annoying Anson was, which, for some reason, pleased the hell out of me. What also pleased me, and shouldn't, was how much I liked being protected by Anson. Where was this man seven years ago? Why did he break us the way he did? Dang it!
Agent Fancie set his coffee cup on my desk. He rose, pulling out a card from the inside of his suit pocket. He laid it on the desk. "Nova, I'd like for your attorney to get in touch with me so we can set up some time to talk to you."
Anson picked up his card.
"Anson, I gotta say this, I don't care what your last name is, but you're pissin' me off, and you don't want to be pissin' off a GBI agent."
"Noted," Anson said cockily, putting Agent Fancie's business card into the inside of his suit jacket.
Maybe it was a male thing— my suit has more pockets than yours?
Anson stood at the door as if making sure to see Agent Fancie left the building. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he turned to face me. "Don't be annoyed. I just—"
"I'm not annoyed." I let out a deep breath. "I'm glad you were here. I didn't know what to do."
"When in doubt, call your lawyer. Lemon charges Beau handsomely for every hour she works for you, so use her. Beau ain't gonna miss the money."
I considered what he said and realized that he knew a hell of a lot about the intricacies of Beau's equation with me.
"Beau came to see me," he explained.
Ah! There it was. Two rich, white men, shooting the shit about me.
Just like Anson Larue, Beau Bodine had a last name that allowed him to do whatever the fuck he felt like. Trevor didn't like it or use his last name in that manner, but he understood the privilege he had.
"And what did Beau tell you?"
"Just that he'd fuck me up if I hurt you ever again."
Now, I hadn't expected that. I mean, it was one thing for Katya to throw out a warning as she had at Fiddler's the other night, quite another for Beau to seek Anson out and tell him to watch himself.
"You afraid of Beau?" I teased.
"Fuck yeah." Anson smiled. "You okay, Sugar?"
"No," I confessed. "It's all a bit much."
"You wanna take tomorrow off with me?" he asked, surprising me.
"Huh?"
He chuckled. "Spend the day with me."
"You want me to play hooky and spend the day with you?"
"I'll pay hooky with you." He winked at me. "Give me a chance, Sugar. If nothing else, you need a break, and we used to always have fun together."
"And how do I know you won't get me thrown into jail again?" I demanded petulantly. I hated seeing the hurt in his eyes—but I was hurting too, and hurt people hurt people !
"I get it," he said somberly. "I fucked up a lot, and you have well-deserved resentment. I don't like it. It hurts like a motherfucker, but I know I've earned it."
He made me feel small with that. This wasn't who I was. I wasn't a rude badass. I was kind and professional. I was pleasant and well-intentioned. I didn't hurt people on purpose. I was kicking at him because he was, as he'd said, on his knees , begging me for a chance.
"I'll let Nina know I'm taking tomorrow off," I said softly.
His face lit up like he'd just found out that Santa Claus was real, and he'd been a good boy this past year.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He came to my side of the desk, leaned, and brushed his lips against mine. "Thanks, Sugar."
"Seriously, not a fuckin' matchmaking agency here." Nina filled the doorway of my office, her fists at her hips. She was holding back a smile.
I cleared my throat and straightened.
" This is a workplace," Nina continued.
Anson raised both his hands, palms out. "Sorry, Nina. Won't happen again."
"Right, and pigs will certainly fly," she muttered as she walked away.
I grinned. "Busted."
Anson looked at me and laughed, the kind of light-hearted laugh he used to give me all the time when I first knew him—a laugh that chipped away at my armor.
Good Lord, but this man was trouble!