Chapter 22
Mackenna’s whispered words hung between them. Agent Crews stared at her before finally leaning forward. “My apologies. I didn’t hear what you said.”
She straightened her spine and repeated words she never thought she’d utter. “A lawyer. I’d like a lawyer present. You said it was my right.”
Agent Crews tilted his head. “Only guilty people ask for their lawyers, Miss McElroy. Are you sure that’s the position you want to take?”
How much did an attorney cost? Where would she find one? Would the lawyer believe her story? Mackenna wasn’t sure she believed it. She studied the bank statement. How could this be? Where did the money come from? Five-hundred dollars. Nine hundred.
Suddenly, the afternoon Mr. Gleaner attempted to rape her leapt to life. Hadn’t he said he’d deposit money into her account if she gave him what he wanted? What were the amounts he said he’d deposit? Nine hundred dollars to cover her rent payment. She remembered that clearly.
Mackenna raised her eyes to Agent Crews’ unwavering stare. Could she tell him about Mr. Gleaner and her sexual harassment complaint against him? Was it possible to be even more humiliated?
“I might know the origin of some of these deposits, sir.”
Agent Crews sat up straighter. “So, you’re willing to discuss this without a lawyer present?”
Mackenna’s eyes widened. “No. No, I think I should retain a lawyer.”
“Then this conversation is over, Miss McElroy. Have your attorney contact me. Soon. The sooner the better for your sake. And I caution you, Miss McElroy, don’t make me come after you.” He flipped a business card toward her. “The next time we meet, I’ll expect you to be more forthcoming or you can plan to spend the night in a federal holding cell.”
She was unable to stop the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. Agent Crews rose and without looking at her said, “Stay here. I’ll arrange to transport you back to your car at the bank.”
The room closed in on her despite him leaving the door open. Every bone in her body turned to mush. She couldn’t stand if her life depended on it. The return ride in the backseat of an unmarked car was solemn, like a funeral procession. Her funeral. A sign announcing the bank was closed due to a robbery hung in the front door and all the lights were out inside. Hers was the sole car in the parking lot.
One foot in front of the other to reach it while the agent who chauffeured her watched. Unlock the door and slip into the driver’s seat. Close the door and start the engine. She was numb, operating on automatic pilot. No appetite. No plan. No desire to live.
She drove to her temporary apartment, her eyes automatically finding Jake’s balcony. Was he home? She’d want to talk to him before . . . before what? Her arrest?
The FBI had her under surveillance but she prayed it was while she lived at her apartment. Did they know she’d relocated to Jake’s building? If they knew about Jake, maybe they’d seen them move her clothes inside. But that required waiting inside the underground garage that day, which was unlikely. She favored the odds that their information was limited to the knowledge that she’d dated Jake.
After parking in the tenant’s underground parking lot, she walked outside to the front of the building and surveyed the area. The street was quiet. She didn’t see any cars that resembled the dark unmarked cars like the FBI agents drove. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Maybe they were waiting for her to arrive at her old apartment. Dear Lord, please let that be the case. If the agents were at her old building, it bought her some time.
But if they knew she’d relocated, knew she was in this building now, would they know which apartment she was in? What if in the middle of the night they broke down the door and arrested her? She’d seen it happen on TV. The building manager was an amiable type and certainly someone who’d cooperate with a group of feds who flashed badges in his face. He’d spill his guts immediately.
No, she wasn’t safe in that new place. But she should be safe at Jake’s. She’d known that instinctively the first time she woke up there, nursing a hangover. Was he home? Was he in a similar situation, looking for a lawyer to save his ass? Maybe they could negotiate a two-for-one deal with someone.
She dialed Jake’s cell but her call went to voice mail. Instead of leaving a message, she hung up and rode the elevator to his floor. After knocking twice and calling to him, she accepted that he wasn’t home. Certainly he wouldn’t mind if she hid out there but that wasn’t possible if she couldn’t get in. Her thoughts returned to the manager who’d seemed friendly with Jake. Maybe he could be persuaded to give Mackenna access.
But time was of the essence. The management office closed at nine on weeknights. Fifteen minutes from now. Mackenna stood outside his office and counted to ten. Then she took two deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth, tilted her chin upward, and mustered a bright smile. The manager looked up from his desk when she entered.
“Hi, Miss McElroy. I was just locking up. How can I help you?”
Her phone buzzed, and she slid her hand into her pocket to silence it. She couldn’t lose her nerve now.
“Have you heard the news about Jake?” He didn’t appear the news channel type. Behind him, black-and-white Andy Griffith reruns played on a thirteen-inch flat screen.
“No. What news?”
She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “He’s in a bind. Says it’s all a misunderstanding.” Was it? She wanted to believe that with all her heart. What had he asked of her this morning? Have faith in me, he whispered. Did she dare? He’d believed in her when he barely knew her.
“He needs a fresh shirt and some important papers. Can you let me into his apartment to collect the items? I was at work all day and wasn’t able to see him to take his key.”
The manager hesitated. “Sorry, but that’s not company policy.”
She nodded. “Yeah, Jake told me. But listen, you can let me in and stay right there with me while I grab the things he needs. That way I’m not in the place alone and you can lock up behind me. That shouldn’t violate the rules, should it? Jake needs several files he left on his desk to, ah, clear up this mess.”
The manager looked up at the wall clock. “I’m about ready to leave for the night.”
Mackenna smiled and nodded her understanding. “It’s important for me to find those files for Jake tonight. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
He mulled the idea for all of thirty seconds before rising and going to a cabinet comprised of three-inch-by-three-inch drawers. Her phone vibrated against her thigh while his finger coasted down the columns until he found Jake’s apartment number and extracted a key. If she missed a call from Jake she’d kick herself.
“Nah, I don’t need to come with you. I know you and him are”—he paused, blushed, and grinned—“well, he told me when he set up the rent payments that you were special to him. I know you’re a lot more than casual friends. Based on the way he talked, I didn’t understand why you didn’t move in with him to begin with. But I guess appearances matter.”
Mackenna stopped breathing for a second when he said Jake arranged to pay her rent. She knew it. There wasn’t an apartment owner on earth who’d allow a squatter to stay scot-free. She tucked that bit of information in the back of her mind for now. She’d have it out with Jake later.
She was special to Jake? He’d told the manager that? Her heart fluttered. She’d ask about that as well.
She shrugged. “Yeah, well, things aren’t always what they seem.”
He stretched his hand toward her. “Try to hurry, okay? I’ll wait on you. I shouldn’t leave until you return the key.”
Mackenna reached for the shiny gold key. “Fifteen minutes tops including elevator time. I’ll bring it right back. Thank you.”
She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks as she rode the elevator back to Jake’s floor. He’d shown her the spare key he stowed in the medicine cabinet in the guest bathroom. She tucked it in her skirt pocket and remembered the missed call when her fingers touched her phone.
It hadn’t been Jake calling. A voice message left by a personnel supervisor she didn’t know replayed, terse and to the point. “Miss McElroy, we’ve been advised by the FBI that you are a person of interest in a series of robberies targeting Good Neighbor banks. You’ve been placed on unpaid administrative leave pending the outcome of their investigation. Your employee identification card has been voided until then and your Good Neighbor account frozen. If you have any questions, feel free to call me. Have a good day.”
Have a good day? Was he kidding? She wanted to throw her phone against the wall. They must be desperate to distance themselves from her to call this late at night.
Unemployed. Homeless. And wanted by the FBI. Even her worst nightmare wasn’t as frightening as her real life.
Eyes closed, she stood motionless. Breathe in. Breathe out. She couldn’t afford to panic. No one could help her but herself. One final inhale and she strode to Jake’s bedroom and opened his clothes closet. The aromatic scent that rushed out smothered her in Jake’s essence, fortifying her. Soapy clean and woodsy. Even when he wasn’t present, his strength prevailed. She closed her eyes to contain it in her lungs, immediately reliving their lovemaking last night. He’d asked her not to believe anything she read or learned today. Apparently he’d known he’d be arrested. How had he known that?
Well, when you came right down to it, wasn’t she in the same position? Wasn’t it a matter of time before Agent Crews located her and arrested her? And she was innocent. She had to believe Jake was too.
Mackenna made a scene of rushing back to the business office to return the key and thanked the manager profusely for staying ten minutes beyond quitting time. He locked the office door and watched her walk to the elevator, so she tapped the button for her floor and waved to him as the double doors closed.
She walked down two flights to Jake’s apartment. When had she become so cautious?
Nothing to do now but wait. For what, she wasn’t certain. For Jake to come home? For Agent Crews to track her down? She drew the balcony drapes closed and snapped on the television, casting the apartment in black-and-white shadows like the TV show the manager viewed. The only other light she switched on was the guest bathroom, which didn’t have a window and would cast no reflection beyond Jake’s walls. It was enough to illuminate the apartment.
Jake’s refrigerator contained a case of beer, three bottles of water, two sports drinks, and two leftover food containers. How did the man live like this? She reached for a can of beer. It was the only way she’d turn off her brain and sleep tonight. Tomorrow, in the daylight, a clearer picture of what to do would materialize.
Her nose crinkled when she sipped the beer but it was cold and vaguely reminded her of Jake’s kisses. Absentmindedly she strolled to his bedroom and eyed the bed. A smile crept across her face remembering the way he’d made her scream in ecstasy.
Another gulp of brew and she stretched across the bed on her belly. Oh Jake. What’s going to happen to me? What should I do? Where are you when I need you? You’ve always been here for me.
That was true, she realized, drinking again. She needed Motorcycle Man. Her own Jake the Jerk. He’d materialized on her darkest day and shined light into her life. A light she hadn’t known was extinguished. And now, she lay in the dark, missing him, wanting him, feeling emotions she’d never known. For him. Was this what love felt like? Painful yet pleasing? Hot and cold. Exhilarating one minute, scary frightening the next?
Jake was in trouble too. Was he in some cold jail somewhere? This wasn’t the time to worry about herself. She needed to find a way to help Jake. She hadn’t lied to Agent Crews and Jake had said that day in the FBI building that if she told the truth, she’d have nothing to worry about. Tomorrow she’d put aside her personal concerns and try to locate Jake. He’d rescued her more than once. Time to return the favor.
The air conditioning clicked on, and Mackenna took one last sip of beer before reaching for the bottom of the bedspread and drawing it up over her legs. She dragged the opposite top corner over her shoulders as her eyelids drooped. Tomorrow. She’d find Jake tomorrow and rescue him.