Man of Mystery: A BBW Romantic Suspense by Lorelei Moone Page B

must have been him.
    “You know how I felt about the guy, right?” Maggie gives me a big hug, as I continue to sob into her clean bathrobe.
    “I thought he was different. That you were just being paranoid,” I complain.
    “The whole thing from start to finish had alarm bells going off in my head,” Maggie says.
    I guess she’s right. I can’t find the energy to argue anymore.
    “There’s some ice cream in the freezer. Let’s get it out and see if we can find some ridiculous romantic movie on TV,” Maggie suggests, as she’s just about to get up.
    “Wait, I’ll get it. You get dressed in the meantime.” I lift myself off the sofa, stretching out my shoulders which have completely locked up and reluctantly drag my tired body towards the kitchen, while trying not to bang into any furniture on the way. Meanwhile, Maggie stirs as well and disappears into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
    “Hey,” I call out while opening the kitchen door, then pause when I hear his hushed voice inside.
    “Look, I’ll be free soon,” Alec whispers. He hasn’t noticed my presence or heard me call him.
    I push the door open a little further and see him with his back turned in my direction. He’s holding his phone against his ear.
    “If the package is on the way to Folkestone already, we have nothing to worry about… Uhuh. Yes… And the agent himself? Right, so he’ll be there in a couple of hours, tops. Perfect timing.”
    Remembering the weirdness at the airport last week, when Alec all of a sudden ended up manning the check-in desk of the flight Liam was trying to ground, formerly dormant suspicions are once again aroused. He blew off a date with Mags to
work.
That’s just plain weird. And as far as I’m aware, Maggie and Alec don’t even do check-in duty normally.
    Now he’s talking about packages, agents… What the hell is going on?
    “All ready.” Maggie’s cheerful voice makes both me and Alec jump. “How about that ice cream?”

Chapter Two : Liam
    “So you want us to believe that you managed to overpower two of Fletch’s men as well as the mastermind himself in some warehouse in Stanwell?” Mrs. Hill - the boss lady, or H, for short - looks like she has even less of a sense of humor than normal. The stark surroundings of our interrogation cell don’t help matters any; neither do the handcuffs around my wrists. Following our standard operating procedure, they’d kept me awake in isolation all night but not started questioning until my patience had worn thin, many hours later.
    “Send a team in if you don’t believe me,” I say.
    “Why didn’t you call for back-up?” Clark asks.
    I eye him, looking for any sign that he is, in fact, playing for the wrong team. I can’t believe how quick they were to take me in, while completely ignoring the fact that our most valuable witness from the airport died in Clark’s custody yesterday.
    Of course, I shouldn’t have kept Fletch’s threats to myself, nor should I have removed the chip from the dead suspect in the morgue and taken it to Fletch’s hide-out. But what other choice did I have? There’s a definite rat stink hanging around this unit, and until I could be sure whom to trust, what was I supposed to do? Let Tess die?
    “Fine.” The boss lady dials a number on her phone, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on me. “134, Stanwell Moor Road. Beyond the reservoir?”
    I nod in agreement. Yes, beyond the reservoir.
    “This is a matter of extreme urgency, you understand? I’ll expect your report within the hour.”
    “So where is this chip now?” Clark asks, leaning forward onto his elbows, which are resting on the steel interrogation room table.
    “May I have a word, Ma’am?” I ignore Clark’s protests and keep my gaze firmly on H instead.
    “Fine. Clark, I’ll call you back in if I need you.”
    He reluctantly leaves, while I watch Mrs. Hill take a seat in the chair Clark had just vacated across from me. She crosses her legs