Free A Time to Protect by Lois Richer Page A

want to tell me about them.”
    He stared, stunned by her claim. “You can’t see anything on my face, Chloe. I’m an FBI agent, and a good one. I don’t give myself away.”
    “Not to most people, maybe.” Her clear blue gaze met his unflinchingly. “But I can read you like a book, Agent Montgomery. You’re fussing about something.” She zipped up the container, grabbed a jacket and slung both over her shoulder. “Good luck with whatever it is. I’ve got to go.”
    “Wait a minute.” He stood in her way, determined to understand what she wasn’t saying. “You can read what I’m thinking, just by looking at my face?”
    Chloe nodded. “Sure.” She cocked her head to one side like a curious wren. “Is that a bad thing?”
    “I don’t believe you.” He let the slow smile spread across his lips as he took in her perfect face with its barest touch ofmascara, blush and lip gloss. “I don’t think you have an idea what I’m thinking.”
    Chloe Tanner didn’t back away, didn’t pretend, didn’t ignore him. She held her position and looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t bother,” she told him. “I’m a working woman with two kids who made it out of a bad marriage by the skin of her teeth. Even if I were ready to get involved with someone, and I’m not, I’ve got too much baggage. Excuse me.”
    Brendan gulped. She’d read him perfectly. The electric current zipping between them was a live, tangible thing that couldn’t be ignored. But her assessment drew a line over which he couldn’t possibly cross without destroying her faith in him. Brendan studied Chloe for a few more seconds before he finally stepped aside. “Have a good evening.”
    “Mrs. Mills said she’d be here no later than one o’clock. If she doesn’t make it by then, call me.” She stood in the doorway, dark hair piled on her head in a ponytail that swished and danced around her face in a flurry of soft curls. “Thank you very much for doing this, Brendan.”
    He nodded and moved to the doorway to watch her leave. She drove away from the house carefully but competently, just as she did everything else.
    “Come on, Brendan. I’ve got a video and popcorn.”
    “I’m coming.” But just before he stepped inside, Brendan noticed a long black car slide out of an alley and turn to follow Chloe down the road. “Hey, Kyle, which one of your neighbors drives a big, black car?”
    “I dunno.” Kyle pushed his hand away and shoved the door closed. “You’re letting all the heat out, man. Anyway, who cares about cars?”
    “Just wondering, that’s all. I have a curious brain.”
    “Yeah, me, too. I’m very curious about this movie. It’s about snakes.” Kyle waited until Brendan was seated and served a bowl of popcorn before he started it. After two minutes Brendan knew he had to leave the room or give himself away. WhenKyle was focused on the TV he reached into his pocket and made his phone ring.
    “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this. You keep watching.” Safely away from slithering bodies that hissed, out of sight of the fangs that darted back and forth, Brendan was able to breathe again. When his pulse rate had returned to normal, he pulled out his notes, studied them.
    An increase in drug overdoses, an old drug lord’s connections, the mayor’s shooting. An idea grew. Maybe if he did another search into Baltasar Escalante’s ugly past, he’d figure out whatever kept nagging at his brain. There had to be a connection. All he had to do was find it.

Chapter Five
    “O h, Chloe. I phoned last night to see if Kyle still wanted to bring his snake to school for our biology class. You do know we’re studying reptiles?” Mrs. Gardener waited for her nod then pressed on, her voice growing louder. “A man answered your phone.”
    Chloe froze in the middle of the church vestibule, face burning, and tried to think of something to say that would make all the ogling eyes that were now riveted on her focus on something