Home > Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(5)

Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(5)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“And since that lunch, he’s been contacting you regularly in an effort to do that.”

“Yes.”

His head tipped slightly to the side. “And after what he’d done to you, you took his calls?

You had lunch with him?”

Suddenly, needing to know, needing to know since I’d told him something I’d never told anyone before, I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Sorry, Agent Calhoun.”

“Well, Agent Calhoun, the answer to your question is, yes. I took his calls and I had lunch with him. Damian is who he is and I know who he is. I didn’t want him showing up at my house. I didn’t want him sending presents and flowers. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.

He thought, throughout the whole time we were getting divorced, that I’d come back. He told me so and he worked at it. Only when I saw it through did he leave me alone. Whatever this is, whatever he wants from me, I had to see it through until it sunk in with him that I wasn’t coming back and he left me alone. So, I was seeing it through.”

He studied me again then he remarked, “That took a lot of courage.”

“He raped me, Agent Calhoun, he hit me but he didn’t kill me. As long as I’m breathing, I’ve got fight in me and luckily I’m breathing.”

It was at that he whispered, “You aren’t like a lot of women.”

“Yes I am,” I whispered back. “I’m like all women. You see this but inside there’s something else that I won’t let you see or him see but it’s the mess he left me. But that’s mine. No one gets to it. Everything you get and he gets is a show. One thing you learn really quickly and really well when that kind of thing happens to you is to be a f**king great actress. You don’t have a choice in that because a man like that does something like that to you, you lose having choices. The only choice you have is what role you intend to play. I picked my role and that… that Agent Calhoun is what you see.”

I watched him draw in breath but he didn’t respond.

Then I asked, “Now, will you tell me what’s going on?”

He held my eyes as he finally answered.

“Tonight, we swept up your ex-husband’s entire operation. He’s the top narcotics distributor in Denver with ties direct to Colombia.”

I blinked.

Then I breathed, “What? ”

“As far as we can trace it, after a number of years being a low level dealer to high end clientele, mostly colleagues, he entered the game in a serious way ten years ago and crawled his way to the top.”

I felt my lips part as I stared at him.

He kept talking. “Your name is joint with his on all his offshore accounts. There are four of them totaling seventy-five million US dollars.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“You hit our radar with your lunch and we monitor his phones. We were aware you were in regular contact with him over the phone for the last six months though we did not know what these conversations were about. And we were aware your name was on his accounts.

However, we didn’t know what your involvement was in his operation. As the disintegration of your marriage and your divorce coincided relatively closely with his moves to elevate his position in the business, we thought you’d discovered what he was doing. But we couldn’t know why you and he resumed contact.”

“I don’t have any involvement in his operations.” I was still whispering.

He reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a tri-folded piece of paper and set it on the table. “Search warrant. We’re searching your house, car, business premises and computers. We’ll also be taking a sample of your handwriting because someone signed your name to open those offshore accounts and they did this approximately six months ago.”

I kept staring at him then I closed my eyes and turned it away while shaking it.

Damian.

Evidence was suggesting that I would, indeed, never get rid of him.

“I don’t… I can’t…” I sucked in a deep breath, looked back at Agent Calhoun and said, “I don’t believe this.”

“If what you say is true, this will bear out in our searches however I will have to ask you to remain here until those are complete. This could take some time, Ms. O’Hara,” he stated while standing. “Can I get you some coffee while you wait?”

I had tipped my head back to look up at him, too shocked by what I’d learned to respond.

“Tess,” he prompted quietly. “Coffee?”

I kept staring at him then I shook my head sharply once and looked at the table, murmuring, “Yes, thank you.”

“Someone will be in shortly with your coffee,” he told the top of my head.

“Thanks,” I told the table.

I didn’t see him but I also didn’t feel his presence leave for several long moments. Then I heard his feet hitting the floor as he walked to the door then the door closed then I was alone in the room with nothing but the table, the chairs, the mirror and whoever was behind it.

I didn’t move and continued to stare at the table.

And luckily, when the one tear I couldn’t control fell, it coursed down the cheek that was on the opposite side to the mirror.

Chapter Two

Exit. Stairs.

I stared at the table for a long time and I kept staring at it after they brought my coffee, asked me to write my signature on a blank piece of paper, I did that, drank my coffee and then kept staring long after that.

But in my head, even with all that was happening, all I could see was my pale face in the mirror.

God, was that really me?

The door to the room opened, my head came up and Agent Calhoun was standing there.

“You’re free to go, Ms. O’Hara,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid we’ll be working with your computers for a little while longer and we’ll need to ask you not to leave town in case we have follow up questions but you can go home now.”

I stared at him a moment before I stood. Grabbing my purse they’d let me bring with me, I walked his way but he didn’t move out of the door so I stopped two feet away.

“We’ll contact you when we’re done with the computers and arrange a time to return them. It shouldn’t be more than a day or two.” He was still talking quietly and I nodded.

“You want me to call you a taxi or do you have a friend who’ll come pick you up?”

No way I was phoning any of my friends. Not about this. Not when it had to do with Damian. Not when questions could be asked and answers would be expected and lies might need to be told.

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