Chapter 3
THREE
Derek stared at the floor and tried not to groan out loud. Man, he hadn’t handled a case this badly since he was a rookie. It had never occurred to him that Legs would think he was stalking her.
Nor had he anticipated she would put up such a fight.
Thanks to her quick thinking and tenacity, he was face down on a dirty deli floor with four guys behind him, holding his arms and threatening to sit on him if he made one move.
“Listen, this is all a mistake,” he said to the floor, trying to twist his head. Of all the humiliating things to have happened. He hoped this little escapade wouldn’t get around the office.
They never would have gotten him on the ground if there hadn’t been four of them, and he hadn’t been preoccupied with watching to see where Legs was going. Not to mention the agonizing pain in his foot where her heel had penetrated.
He still might have been able to take them, but at the last second, his bad knee had buckled and he’d gone down when one of these guys had jumped on his back.
Now here he was on the damn floor, and his evidence, the compilation of months of planning, was in the back room with a woman who thought he was a serial killer.
“The only mistake you made was pulling your scumbag act here in front of us,” a voice from behind him said, squeezing Derek’s arm for emphasis.
It figured he would encounter an overzealous bunch of Good Samaritans.
“If you get out my wallet, you can see for yourself. I’m a federal agent, and you’re interfering with an investigation.”
“Yeah, right,” the voice scoffed.
He attempted a shrug, but his shoulders were pinned to the floor. “Look for yourself.”
“I’m not digging in your pocket.” Horror was clear in the young deli clerk’s voice.
Derek pulled hard on his hand, freed it a little and pulled out his wallet. He tossed it next to him. “Have a look.”
A moment later, hands eased up. “Is this real?”
Derek took the opportunity to move out from under his captors’ hands and sit up. He brushed dirt off his sweatshirt. “Yes.”
He spotted the men in blue coming through the front door as the four guys in their early twenties gaped at him. Derek said, “Ask the cops.”
The kids nudged each other and looked sheepish. Derek found he couldn’t be that angry with them. Hey, at least they were sticking up for what they thought was a defenseless woman. They’d done the right thing.
The deli clerk said, “No way. Did we like totally screw up? Was that woman like a major criminal?”
The one with fluffy poodle hair nodded. “I bet she’s like a senator’s mistress or something.”
His friend scoffed. “There are no senators in Chicago.”
Derek sighed. He was strongly starting to suspect this day wasn’t going to turn out the way he had hoped. Which pretty much summed up every day for the last two years.
The two patrolmen sauntered over. The older of the two glared at them each in turn and said, “What the hell’s going on here?”
“Dude, we didn’t know he was FBI, man. We just saw him grabbing the chick and we were trying to help her. Totally innocent, that’s what we are.” The deli clerk started to scoot back away from Derek, his hands in the air.
His three friends nodded vigorously. One said, “Seriously, man. We were just trying to protect that woman, and then it turns out he’s FBI. No way we could have known that.”
The cop turned to Derek, who had managed to get himself and his stiff leg off the floor. Jesus, he was like an old man as things popped and creaked when he righted himself. His knee throbbed, giving him just one more reminder of his past poor judgment.
“What’s your story?” the cop asked, tucking his hands into his belt and looking resigned to his life.
“I’m a federal agent. I was in the process of apprehending a female who has pivotal evidence in her possession when I was ambushed by the Mob Squad here.” Derek glanced over to the door where Legs had retreated. “I need to see if she’s still on the premises.”
The cop, who had taken his badge from the clerk and was studying it, said to his partner, “Go check it out. Bring her out here for Agent Knight.”
Then he handed Derek his badge and clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “Caught you off guard, did they?”
Derek stuffed his badge back in his pocket and tried not to grimace. “It happens. I appreciate they were trying to protect a woman they assumed by being accosted.”
The cop apparently didn’t agree. “Where are you going?” The cop stopped the boys, who were inching away steadily, with a frown.
They all froze and Derek saw a smirk cross the cop’s face before he glared at them again. Derek didn’t bother to listen to the ensuing stammering explanations, and headed towards the door to the kitchen.
The other cop came back out right as he reached the door. “Nobody back there.”
Derek swore. Not that he was surprised. Legs didn’t look like the kind to hang around when there was a handy back door available.
He felt a jump of desire again, that was totally out of line given the situation.
But he had to admit he admired the hell out of her street smarts and ability to think fast.
As an older woman came up and asked him for his autograph, which made him want to laugh, he pictured that glossy auburn hair falling across his pillow, and those long creamy legs stretching, wrapping around him as she gave up little moans of pleasure.
Damn. He needed to get out of the house more.
It took another ten minutes to clear up the whole mess with the police and track down from the rental agency the name and address of the woman in the red Taurus.
After a lot of hemming and hawing on their part, and threats on his part, they released her name to him.
Reese Hampton. She was staying at the Crowne Plaza.
Derek got into his green car and wondered how exactly he was going to go about cajoling Reese Hampton into surrendering the evidence without her macing him in the eyes.
Charm. He would just have to be charming. Which he was sadly out of practice doing. So he would try calm. Matter-of- fact.
You’re-interfering-with-FBI-business, ma’am, kind of attitude.
And if that didn’t work, he would just have to grab the envelope and run.