Kaci

 

Micah and I were dressed to the nines for tonight. He'd taken me to an actual adult boutique this time, and slapped down a wad of cash to cover any expenses I'd had. Sydney and I had a field day, and I can honestly say I'd never had a pair of heels this sexy, or comfortable. To go with them, I'd picked up a pretty white dress and a new purse. Hell, Sydney had even helped me put my hair up for the night.

 

Micah looked like he'd done a bit of shopping himself, or had at least dug to the back of his closet and found the sexiest suit I'd seen on a man in a while. It was tailored to him, slim but still showed off his impressive muscles in all the right places. He'd even shaved that perpetual five o'clock stubble from his face.

 

It was hard to believe this time last night we'd been putting the final touches on a gun heist against a Russian crime lord.

 

“Quit grinning so damned much at me,” he grunted as he swung open the door to the restaurant for me.

 

“Why should I?” I asked, my tone playful and poking. “Don't you want Agent Brumfield to think we're in love?”

 

He just grumbled. “No, I want us to be believable.”

 

I slipped an arm through his and leaned against his side a little, letting him escort me along. “And nice couples like us don't look at each other that way?”

 

“Nope,” he said. “We're supposed to be simmering in mutual despair, angry that our love life died off years ago.”

 

I snickered. “Well we're not playing at being married, are we?”

 

“Suppose not,” he mumbled back. “But let's at least stop making it look like you've never seen me in a suit before, okay?”

 

I laughed. “Fine, fine,” I said, faking a little pout.

 

We headed into the restaurant's lounge and Micah scanned the bar for the agent.

 

A young woman, maybe in her early thirties approached us. “Micah Marlow?” she asked, hand extended as she looked us both up and down.

 

She was pretty, if a little severe, and had ashen blonde hair that was pulled back in a no-nonsense bun, the roots straining away from her face. Something about her just screamed tomboy, like she got up and ran ten miles every morning, and used the jog time to catch purse snatchers on her route. Her moves were all measured, tight, like she kept herself under constant surveillance, consistent care. She was tough, and she knew it, too.

 

“Agent Brumfield?” Micah replied, trying to keep his voice neutral and guarded.

 

“Avery, please. I have a table near the back,” she said, jerking a thumb back over her shoulder. “It's a little more private than the bar.” And, with that, she turned on the heel of her no-bullshit business flats, and led the way to her back table.

 

I gave Micah the eye, and he gave it right back to me. This woman seemed like her lie detector was going to be pretty strong. She'd definitely been around the block a few times. Micah made an “after you” gesture and we followed after her, with me in the lead.

 

The back booth she'd secured was quiet, and out of the way. Everyone here was murmuring quietly to each other anyways, not like in Club Hades where one full booth could make the whole place feel like a biker rally hard parked inside the bar.

 

“Please sit,” she said with a sweep of her hand as she slid into the far side of the booth behind what looked like a gin and tonic.

 

I slid onto the opposite bench first, with Micah squeezing in after me.

 

“Your grandfather said you had some information for me,” Avery said, jumping right in with both feet.

 

“Yes,” Micah said, folding his hands in front of him on the table. “He mentioned that you were going after one of my business associates, a man named Efraim Petrov, right?”

 

“Correct,” Avery said with a nod. “We've been looking into him, but so far there hasn't been anything solid to go on. Do you think you have something that we could use to broaden our investigation?”

 

“Not exactly,” Micah said, veering a little ways off from the truth. “You see, Mr. Petrov stiffed me on a business deal, but I've heard things about him from others in the industry. I think I can help you catch him in some compromising situations.”

 

I was surprised that he was diverting from the plan already, and shot him a sideways glance.

 

“What kind of business deals did he and you have a disagreement on?” Avery carefully asked. She was clearly weighing each word that came out of his mouth, and I had a feeling she wasn't going to like what he had to say. “Sorry, I have to ask. Your grandfather didn't mention that part of it in our phone conversation.”

 

“Yes, well,” Micah said, foundering a little, “I can't really disclose that because of an agreement we signed. I'd be breaking the, uh, contractual obligation, you see, and open myself up to lawsuits.”

 

“Oh,” Avery said, sitting back a little. “Okay. Well, what did you mean to do to help me, then, if you can't disclose these dealings?”

 

Micah leaned forward a little, hunching his shoulders like he was conspiring with her. “I think,” he began, “I can get him into a hotel room and get him to admit to illegally selling firearms, like the rumor that's going around.”

 

“You could, could you?”

 

I kept my smile up, despite the fact that I didn't think Agent Brumfield was going to buy it.

 

“Yes,” Micah said. “I'd need certain assurances, of course.”

 

“What kind are we talking about?” she asked.

 

“That you would leave me and my associates out of this. I don't want to be investigated before, during, or afterward. But, I promise you, I can get him to you on a silver platter.”

 

Halfway through his last statement, Agent Brumfield rolled her eyes so hard, they looked like they were about unscrew from their sockets. “Mr. Marlow, let me know just stop you right there. I don't know what your grandfather told you, but that ain't gonna fly. We need to know the full extent of your business dealings, and we have to know if there's any outstanding liability on you before we just give you a free pass on this.”

 

“But, I can get him for you,” Micah replied. “I'm telling you, we can send this guy up the river. Believe me, he's dirty as all Hell.”

 

I fiddled with my hands in my lap, itching to say my peace. Micah was just screwing this all up with his needless dodging. For once, we needed to be frank with someone, needed to actually tell the damned truth.

 

“Mr. Marlow . . . Micah.” The FBI agent leaned in closer, so close her lips were almost touching Micah's. “I fucking know he's dirty. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. But, if you can't tell us what business you had with him, even a clue to it, then we can't talk turkey here. Got it?”

 

I leaned forward. “Micah,” I said, cutting him off as opened his mouth and went to speak, “cut the bullshit. Agent Brumfield, let me tell you the truth. The whole truth. My name's Kaci Sizemore, and I killed Abram Ivanovich in the hotel room.”

 

# # #

Micah

 

I don't know what the fuck Kaci was thinking, or what she thought she'd accomplish by opening her big mouth, but there wasn't any stopping her now.

 

“Look,” she said, one eye on me and the other on the FBI agent, “I'm gonna be blunt. I ran away from home when I was sixteen and eventually ended up as a prostitute with Abram. I ran because my pervy-ass stepdaddy went from just beating me and my brother to giving me creepy looks the day my momma died, and I needed to get away from him before something worse than just looks happened to me. Abram was my pimp for years and years, and kept me as a prostitute.”

 

The shocked look on the Agent's face just grew and grew for the first leg of Kaci's explanation, and my own mortification intensified. I wasn't sure where Kaci was going with this, but I hoped it worked. Likely, though, it probably wouldn't. Of course, she wasn't the type of woman to take “no” for an answer. That much, at least, I'd learned over the last week.

 

“That night last week, it was me in the hotel room with Abram. My brother is Romeo Sizemore, the boy that was found. He was my younger brother, and he somehow found me. Abram killed him, I shot Abram with his own gun. I'm willing to face the consequences for what I did, even though I don't feel a bit of guilt. So, if you gotta lock someone up, lock me up, alright? But, first, I want to help you make Efraim pay for everything he's done. That man is a goddamn snake in the grass and deserves whatever he gets, especially after what happened to my brother.”

 

Agent Brumfield's face had softened during Kaci's rambling confession, enough so that I thought we even had a chance of convincing her to let us help. She took a deep drink from her cocktail and, crunching the ice, seemed to consider Kaci's words carefully.

 

“Kaci, let me start by saying, I can't even begin to understand what you've gone through, or are going through. I've met a lot of people with really tough lives, and this one's right up there.”

 

“Uh, thanks,” Kaci said from beside me. Her eyes were lit up a little from just getting to unburden herself to the agent, and I could tell she was hopeful for things to work out.

 

“However,” the agent said, then paused and took another drink.

 

I, on the other hand, was not nearly as optimistic.

 

“However,” she began again, reaching across the table to put her hand over Kaci's, “I can't help you. I'm going to disregard what you just told me, as I'm not working the case. When you go through the proper channels with the local authorities, please don't mention me. At all. My relationship with your boyfriend's grandfather would make it look improper as Hell for me to be involved.”

 

My heart sunk. Not only had Kaci just admitted to killing Abram, she'd also showed as completely unreliable. And, without any help from the FBI, we were pretty much fucked when it came to getting out of this.

 

Agent Brumfield turned her attention back to me, a frown creasing her lips. “And you, Mr. Marlow. When you're ready to discuss what business you had with Mr. Petrov, and how you can be of better assistance, please contact me. Other than that, I think we're done here.” As she closed her remarks, she began digging through the pockets of her slacks. She pulled out as wad of bills and tossed it on the table between us.

 

“So, you're just going to leave?” Kaci asked, her face completely downcast.

 

“Yes, Ms. Sizemore, I am.” And, with that, Agent Brumfield was up and out of the little back booth.

 

“Fuck,” Kaci groaned.

 

“Fuck is right,” I agreed as I turned to her.

 

“So, what now?” she asked.

 

“What now?” I asked, laughing a little. “Now we change our plans up. You, little girl, just completely fucked us over. Your save-the-day balls-to-the-wall attitude might have just cost you your goddamn freedom. We better get out of town before the local boys come sniffing around for you after that little stunt you just pulled. We're going on the run, sweetie.”

 

“Fuck,” Kaci groaned again, this time drawing out the word as she planted her face in her hands.

 

“Yep,” I said. “Looks like we got all dressed up for nothing.”