Exposed Read Free Page A

street address.
    Maddie stashed the ice pack in her purse and shoved the phone into the pocket of her jeans. Now, she really needed to leave.
    “Ms. Callahan?”
    She glanced up. The young agent was watching her expectantly. So was his partner.
    “Listen, you see Officer Scanlon over there? The one with the notepad? I guarantee he’ll be turning in a full report before he clocks out tonight. You can get the details from him.”
    “We need them from you,” Dulles said, speaking up for the first time. He was still leaning against the side of the car, looking disapproving.
    “Is there a specific reason the FBI is involved here? I told you, it was a mugging.”
    “Looks to me like an assault, too,” Beckman said evenly.
    “Okay, fine. But I really need to be somewhere, like, an hour ago, so unless you can explain how this is relevant—”
    “We’re investigating a federal case.”
    “A federal case involving . . . ?” She waited as they exchanged looks.
    “There was a theft across the street from here about five-thirty.” Dulles nodded toward the park. “Given the timing, we think it could be connected to your incident.”
    Maddie glanced across the street, where a bank faced out onto the park. A bank robbery certainly would explain the feds, but why weren’t there any police cars?
    “Take us through what happened,” Beckman said, all trace of politeness gone.
    And so Maddie did.

     
    Brian watched as Madeline Callahan gave a concise but thorough account of the events following her photo shoot. The woman had an eye for detail—that much was clear. She also had an attitude. He wasn’t sure where it came from. Most people tended to perk up andtake notice when FBI agents arrived on the scene, but this woman seemed mostly annoyed.
    Brian watched her, intrigued. She wore faded jeans that hugged her hips, brown leather boots, and a black T-shirt that stretched tight over her breasts. Her arms were folded as if she were cold, and she probably was, given that the temperature had dropped into the forties since dusk. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but strands had escaped, and she kept tucking them back behind her ears. A nervous habit, maybe? But she didn’t seem nervous, and Brian had interviewed more than enough witnesses to know. His attention drifted to those full lips that seemed to taunt him as she talked. He watched her mouth and knew he was going to be fantasizing about it for a good long time.
    In an effort to stay focused, he shifted his gaze to the side of her jaw, which was swollen and rapidly turning purple. Her assailant had gotten in a solid punch, and Brian’s gut tightened as he imagined some fat, hairy fist connecting with her face.
    She was staring at him now, and he realized she’d finished her story.
    “So, your camera was directed north,” Sam stated, saving him from making an ass of himself.
    “That’s right.”
    Brian cleared his throat. “Ma’am, what are the odds you might have inadvertently photographed someone standing in front of that bank at five-thirty?”
    She paused for a moment. “I’d say good. But I’d also say the odds of us ever knowing for sure are nil. So, as much as I’d love to help you guys, I think we’re allpretty much shit out of luck today.” She checked her watch, and a look of anxiety flashed across her face. “And now I really have to go.”
    “Do you need a ride home?” Brian asked her.
    She looked surprised by the offer. Then wary. “Thanks, but I’ve got my car.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at the parking garage, and the anxiety seemed to double.
    “Would you like an escort?” he asked.
    “An escort?”
    “To your vehicle.”
    “Oh. No. Really, I’m fine.” She hitched her purse onto her shoulder. “So, if there’s nothing else you need . . . ?”
    “If there is, we’ll call you,” Brian said.
    Her gaze narrowed. “I didn’t give you my number.”
    He smiled slightly. “We can get it.”
    They