Free Material Witness by Lisa Mondello, L. A. Mondello

appreciate your cooperation,”
Charley said, starting forward. “And we'll do—”
    Cassie held up a hand. “Hold on, I'm
not finished. I've done enough research to know that protective custody isn't
always the sweet piece of cake it seems like in the movies. You all may be
doing your job, and I'll even agree that this is necessary. But at the end of
the day, you'll get to go home to your own lives. I'm the one who has to live
this way twenty-four hours of every day.”
    “As I started to say, we'll certainly
try to make you as comfortable as possible. I understand how hard this must be
for you, Cassie. The safe house is designed—”
    Cassie cut Charley off yet again
before she could finish, rising up stronger than a tornado raging through the
flatlands of Texas. Jake had to laugh when the agents directly in front of her
seemed to shrink in their seats. How could one woman be sass, steam and
innocence all rolled up into one?
    He stole a quick glance at Charley
and saw how her lips had thinned and her face had become tight with
frustration.
    Cassie's fists were clenched by her
sides. He wasn't sure if it was from nerves or if she were ready to take a slug
at anyone who didn't agree to her demands.
    Sweet Lord, you've just met your
match, Charley.
    “I'm not asking for the world here.
As I stated, I intend to cooperate. But there are some things I need if I'm
going to be away for a while.”
    When no one made a move to interrupt,
Cassie continued.
    “The first thing is quite simple.”
Her delicate chin jutted out just enough to show her fire, enough for Jake to
notice the deep color of her eyes and how they sparked as she spoke. “When I go
to this safe house, I don't want to be hovered over like a two-year-old. The
events of the last twenty-four hours were traumatic enough without having an
agent assigned to count and report on how many times I go to the john to take a
pee.”
    A rumble of laughter rolled through
the room.
    “It won't be like that,” Charley cut
in harshly.
    Cassie wasn't intimidated. “I'm not a
fool, Agent Tate. I know how this system works. I want my computer, some
references books and to be left completely alone. It’s the only way I can
write.”
    “You're going to need to be under
constant supervision. Round the clock,” Charley said, coming up alongside
Cassie.

“I understand that,” she said.
“Detective Jake Santos can guard me there.”
    The room came to life with whispers
that spread around the closed room and echoed off the stark white walls. Jake
was sure he'd heard a few snickers in there as well.
    “I'm afraid that's not possible, Ms.
Alvarez.” Charley finally took her place at the front of the room with Cassie.
“The agents I’ve assigned to the safe house are fully trained to act as your
bodyguards.”
    “None of them are agents I’ve met or
trust. I won’t be able to relax unless I feel I’m safe, and that means I need
someone I can trust completely.”
    “That’s out of the question,” Jake
said. Cassie looked at him, her jaw set, and he knew he was in for a fight.
    Agent Radcowski spoke up. “Agent
Bellows will be driving you to Virginia. Agent Tate and I will follow in a day
or two. There will be details to sort out but I can assure you, you will have
your privacy there. You won’t even know an agent is there.”
    “It’s Jake Santos or I’m not going,”
Cassie said resolutely.
     Charley parked herself in front of
Jake and said in a low voice that oozed anger, “You and I need to have a
serious discussion.”
    * * *
    Richie Trumbella's autopsy report lay
closed in a manila folder on Captain Russo's desk. Coffee rings marked the
blotter underneath and were accompanied by happy- and sad-face doodles. An
ashtray filled with stale cigarette butts, emitting the scent of spent tobacco,
lay next to a jar of butterscotch candy. Jake sat on the corner of the desk,
staring at the Captain's artwork. He waited for Charley to close the door
behind her before