Magic Rising Read Free Page B

sturdy table. The room didn’t look like it belonged in the same building as the sparkling chandeliers, crisp linens, and polished marble floors. It just goes to prove that even buildings have dark sides.
    She opened the door, seeing Mark standing guard until the police arrived. The gentleman they’d caught burst into tears and she prayed this job would be over quickly. She didn’t like to see men cry.
    “Has the target said anything?” Deirdre asked.
    “Only ranting about his daughter. When are those cops going to show up?” It seemed the target’s reaction bothered Mark too.
    “Soon. Tech called them as soon as I took down the target.”
    “I am not a target. My name is Shope. Jack Shope. You have to stop Tamara. She’ll get my daughter. My baby can’t die.” Without the wig, he looked like any normal man on the street. His hair was cropped close to the scalp, nearly military. His eyes were wide, glassy, and his muscular form hulking in his dress and heels. His black skin looked even darker beneath the bright blue dress. “I’m not crazy. I’m only protecting my daughter. You have to believe me.” His words cut through Deirdre’s shell and touched her heart.
    Protecting his daughter. That was a familiar sentiment.
    She couldn’t get involved. Everything had to be kept at a distance. The criminals were “targets”, nothing more, no names, nothing personal. The people who hired them were called “clients”. There could be no emotional attachment to either for Deirdre to do her job efficiently. She knew it was the one rule to never break, almost never.
    “What’s your daughter’s name?”
    “Lora Shope.”
    Mark looked at her, appearing shocked over her question. They’d worked together since she’d started Security Specialists. Not once had she ever addressed a target. She’d never had a client tell her a complete lie about the association with a stalker either. Tamara Haas had told Deirdre too many lies to be an innocent victim.
    “Deirdre, the police have arrived.” Sabrine stepped to the side and motioned to someone behind her.
    There were other questions Deirdre wanted to ask but the timing was bad. The daughter’s name didn’t mean much to her but perhaps asking made the target feel better. A man in a dress shouldn’t cry in jail. Nasty things could happen when the guards weren’t looking.
    “Let’s prepare the target for transfer.”
    A uniformed officer entered behind Sabrine. He seemed too taken with Sabrine’s backside to say anything at first. Sabrine was a spunky girl who, in Deirdre’s opinion, was built for sex but had martial art skills that would drop half the police force if she felt so inspired. Sabrine kept her hair short, rising in a three-inch spike on the top of her head and dyed fire engine red. It added to her tough exterior, one that she’d practiced for years.
    Without turning, Sabrine addressed the officer. “If you’re done ogling, I’d like to get my cuffs off the target.”
    The officer stepped around her mumbling something incoherent. Sabrine followed, removing her cuffs while the officer placed his around the target’s wrists, and searched him. With the transfer completed, the target had become the official property of the Lawrenceton Police Department.
    “Well if it isn’t Deirdre Galiena Flye? When we got the call I thought I might see you.”
    The detective who entered the room wore a cheap suit, cheaper cologne, and had irritated Deirdre since the first moment she laid eyes on him six years ago.
    “Hello Farmer,” remarked Sabrine with an equal amount of distaste.
    “Just call me Deirdre. The rest is too long.” This guy had been a major thorn in her side since he made detective. “Do you think you can take this guy to jail without losing him?”
    “Whenever you have time to give me a statement.”
    “You know Tech handles that. He’s upstairs and is currently making you a copy of the surveillance video. That will be sufficient.”
    He