Close To The Edge (Westen #2) by Suzanne Ferrell Page B

a magazine. Besides the office she sat in, there were two others located far from the tellers on the bank’s opposite side. One was dark, as if its owner had taken the day off.
    It was the other office her new best friend, Ms. Taylor, disappeared into. The manager, an older gentleman, nearing retirement age if Bobby had to guess from his white hair and slightly hunched posture, sat at his desk as the new account officer presented him with her paperwork. The man briefly glanced at the papers, but spent the rest of the time leering down his co-worker’s exposed cleavage.
    Bobby chuckled softly and wrote his description down in her notebook—near retirement, but apparently not feeling it.
    A few moments later, Ms. Taylor returned, a smile lighting up her face. “We have you all set, Ms. Roberts. Your checks should arrive at your home in a week or two. In the meantime if you need any cash, just fill out a form and show the teller your ID to make a withdrawal.”
    “That will be just wonderful.” Bobby stood and took the papers Ms. Taylor handed her. “You have been so helpful. Might I ask one more question?”
    “Of course.”
    “The scenery around Westen is so lovely. If I wanted to buy some property, say in the next six months or so, could you help me with a loan?”
    Ms. Taylor shook her head and gave her another placating smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t handle that kind of transaction. That would be done by our loan officer, Mr. Evans.”
    “Oh. Would that be the gentleman you were speaking with just now?”
    Ms. Taylor laughed. “No, that’s Mr. Peters, the bank manager. Mr. Evans is out of the office today. He should be back next Monday.”
    “Well I’m sure I won’t find any property to buy before then.” Bobby laughed and thanked the bank officer once more before leaving.
    Out on the street, she paused to write the names of the bank managers into her notepad. Mr. Evans was in charge of loans. He was the most likely candidate to file a lien on the Byrd property. Now she had a name to put in her report to Chloe.
    “What are you doing?”
    Gage’s voice startled her from behind. She would’ve jumped into the path of a passing pickup had he not grabbed her firmly by the elbow and held her in place.
    “Do you have to keep doing that?” For a big man, he moved with great stealth. She narrowed her eyes at him. His reflective sunglasses blocked her view of his eyes, but she’d just bet he’d enjoyed scaring her out of another few minutes of life.
    “If you’d stop snooping around where you have no business, I wouldn’t have to question you, now would I?” He kept his grip on her elbow and steered her down the sidewalk toward his office…and the very small, confining, suffocating jail cell.
    She dug her heels in, ignoring the stares of the few pedestrians on the sidewalk on a Friday morning. “I wasn’t snooping and I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You can’t arrest me.”
    “You were supposed to meet me at my office first thing this morning, Bobby. Instead I find you in the bank. The same bank where I hauled you out of the trash yesterday. We’re going to my office to have that discussion about your case. I’m not going to arrest you.” His voice was low, but the intensity suggested he barely had a leash on his temper. He gave her arm a small, firm tug.
    The message was clear. Follow or risk causing a public scene. Without further protest she let him lead her down the block. With her luck he’d probably use an altercation as an excuse for arresting her for disturbing the peace or causing a public nuisance.
    She really needed to sit down with Chloe and figure out all the ways she could avoid getting locked up while she tried to work this case. Of course, with a more ordinary and reasonable lawman she wouldn’t have to worry about spending time in jail. However, in the brief time she’d known Gage Justice she’d learned one thing. Ordinary and reasonable weren’t part of his makeup.
    At his