Free The Betrayal by Chris Taylor Page A

Investigator Sabattini wanted to speak with him and she’d requested the presence of his lawyer.
    Declan refused to get his hopes up that the nightmare of the last few weeks could soon be over. Surely, that was the reason for the summons? Why else would she contact his lawyer and order both of them to her office without delay?
    Declan entered the elevator, grateful to find it empty. Punching in the number of the floor that housed the IA offices, he moved toward the back and waited for the doors to close. In less than a minute, he was transported to the fifth floor.
    The sleek, silver doors slid open and he stepped into the hall, his footsteps muffled by the light gray-and-navy colored carpet that lined its length.
    The nerves he’d managed to suppress returned in full force and he swallowed with a throat that was suddenly sandpit dry. The sight of his lawyer waiting for him outside the interview room helped only slightly to ease his tension.
    “Roger, thanks for coming at such short notice.”
    The barrister held out his hand and Declan shook it. “That’s what you’re paying me for, son.”
    “Yes, well, even so, I appreciate it.” Declan angled his head in the direction of the closed door. “Do you have any idea what this is all about?”
    Roger shook his head, his expression grim. “I couldn’t get anything out of her, which makes me nervous.”
    “So, you don’t think she’s called us here to tell us she’s dropping the case?”
    Roger’s lips compressed. “There’s nothing that would please me more, Declan, but unfortunately, experience tells me something different.”
    The lawyer noticed Declan’s disappointment and stepped forward to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder.
    “I’m sorry, son, but I’m not going to bullshit you. If this was good news, I’m sure it would have been relayed over the telephone. Chloe Sabattini knows I’ve had to drop everything and hop a plane from Sydney to be here. I wish I could give you more hope, but you’re not paying me for fairy tales.”
    Roger looked uncomfortable, but Declan barely noticed. His thoughts had snagged on one word: Chloe .
    So, that was her name.
    Chloe . Somehow, it suited her.
    His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the interview room swung open and he was treated to another close-up of Senior Investigator Chloe Sabattini.
    She greeted both of them with a firm handshake, her expression unreadable.
    “Mr White, Agent Munro. Thanks for coming.” She turned and moved across the room to check the video recorder on the shelf in the corner. Declan’s gaze shifted around the stark interview room.
    The only difference he could ascertain since his last visit was a second plastic chair had been added, he guessed in deference to his barrister. Seemingly satisfied with the status of the video machine, Chloe indicated the seats with a wave of her hand and then made her way around the standard-issue laminate desk.
    Declan busied himself with taking a seat and did his best not to notice how well her knee-length, tailored, navy skirt cupped the curve of her rounded butt or how her pale yellow blouse set off the golden tones of her skin. When she took the only remaining chair, he averted his gaze, but not before he caught an enticing glimpse of shadowed cleavage.
    Christ, what was wrong with him? This woman held his life in her hands. Surely, he could lift his thoughts above his navel and concentrate his efforts on convincing her of his innocence?
    Opening up the file in front of her, she appeared not to notice his preoccupation. Declan drew in a deep breath and eased it out, willing himself to relax.
    “Senior Inspector Sabattini, both Agent Munro and I are keen to find out what this is all about. We have yet to receive the Brief of Evidence from you. As far as we know, your number one witness could be little more than a figment of your imagination. Agent Munro’s life is on hold. We would appreciate it if you would be direct.”
    The woman