Free Lawman Lover - Lisa Childs by Intrigue Romance Page B

up back in the morgue—in that body bag, just as Dr. Bernard feared.

Chapter Six
    Rowe had been right to trust her to handle the meeting on her own. Not that he would have been able to accompany her, since his presence would have only put her in more danger. And he didn’t know of anyone he could have trusted to go along with her to the meeting either. But he had also doubted that her boss would have let the warden hurt her. As it had played out, though, Dr. Bernard had been the one who’d hurt her.
    “The coroner fired you?” he asked, as she settled her box of belongings onto the passenger’s seat beside her. Once again, he was crouched down in the back of the van.
    She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but pain darkened her brown eyes to nearly black when she glanced back at him. “I expected consequences for what I did last night. I knew I would get in trouble for helping you.”
    “But you still helped me.” He didn’t know anyone else who would have.
    “I only helped you for Jed,” she clarified, as if she was worried that he would misconstrue her involvement with him. After the kiss, he didn’t blame her for worrying. That kiss worried him, too. “I have to protect Jed and get you to help him. Can you even help him, though?”
    “I won’t know for sure until I get a chance to go over all of the evidence the prosecutor had against him,” he admitted. And he suspected it must have been substantial for a jury to have convicted him.
    She gave an eager nod. “We can get the files from his lawyer.”
    “Not yet,” Rowe reminded her. “I can’t do anything as a dead man, or as an escaped convict. First, I have to find out who blew my cover to the warden.”
    She reached into the box in the passenger’s seat, pulled out a cell phone and handed it back to him. “So find out.”
    “I can’t use your phone,” he protested, keeping his hand at his side. “The call can be traced back to you.”
    “This call will be traced back to Mr. Mortimer. I took the cell from his personal effects.” She thrust the phone at him until he finally closed his fingers around it.
    He had no idea who to call. No idea who to trust.
    She must have sensed his hesitation because she said, “There must be someone who can help you.”
    “You’ve worked so hard to prove me dead,” he pointed out. “With one call, I can undo all your work once someone hears and recognizes my voice.”
    “True.” She took the phone back. “So I’ll make the call. What’s the number?”
    His head pounded with frustration for his inability to do anything for himself right now without risking her life and his. “What number?”
    “For the DEA,” she replied matter-of-factly.
    Dr. Bernard hadn’t just hurt her. He and the warden had unnerved her. Whatever they’d said to her had brought back all her doubts about him. Gone was the woman who had teased and kissed him just hours ago.
    So he gave her the direct number to his office and watched her face as she listened to his message. “That extension is no longer working,” she informed him.
    “That’s my direct line.” And the call should have gone to his voice mail. Even though he spent most of his time in the field, he still had an office in the Drug Enforcement Administration building in Detroit.
    Maybe word had gotten back to the administration about his “death.” He grabbed the phone from her and punched in another number for the department secretary. He handed the phone back to her while it rang.
    “Hello,” she said. “I’d like to speak to someone about Agent Rowe Cusack.” She listened for a moment then clicked off the cell.
    “Nobody would talk to you about me,” he surmised.
    “No.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Because nobody knows who you are.”
    “I’m deep undercover,” he reminded her. “It’s protocol not to risk it.”
    “Your cover’s been blown,” she said. “As far as they know, you’re dead. Why deny you exist?”
    Why? He