An Offer You Can't Refuse by Sal Bianchi (best beach reads .txt) 📕

injuries. I’m Agent Park with the SDCT, and I’m here to help you, okay? Can you take some deep breaths with me?”

Jase began to breathe in and out in an exaggerated manner. The woman tried to mimic his actions, but I could tell she was struggling to draw a full breath.

I moved over to the suspect to check on him while Jase stayed with the victim. There were two bullet wounds in his chest, and he was completely still. He wasn’t breathing either, just as Jase had said.

“Damn it,” I hissed as I looked at the man’s motionless body. It was a good shot since he had been about to shoot us, but either way, it was never ideal when a suspect was killed on the scene. The paperwork alone was a nightmare.

I pushed the thought aside as I glanced back at the victim. Jase was still patiently speaking with her and trying to help her steady her breathing. What was important was the fact that we had saved the victim. As I watched them, I felt unbelievably grateful that we’d managed to get here in time.

39

Bette

I watched Agent Park and Nick hurry out of the room, dumbstruck at how frankly Nick had just spoken to me. Every interaction we’d had so far had involved him either making some stupid flirty comment or just brushing me off with some annoying quip. It honestly surprised me that he was even capable of being that serious about anything.

If I was completely honest with myself, I felt a little bad. Not too much, because I still didn’t trust him or like him or want him hanging around the office any more than was strictly necessary, but the more that I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe I’d been a little too overbearing lately.

“Hey, Bette,” Theo called as he came into the break room. “The director wants us to speak with someone. Apparently, Jase and Nick got the suspect to talk, and we have the identity of the woman who killed the senator. Flint wants us to go speak with her and maybe bring her in depending on what we find out.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I’d rather focus on this than spend any more time dwelling on whether or not I was too mean to Nick DiFiore. Besides, Alexis Rothschild’s murder was the whole reason the SDCT started investigating. If we solved this case, Nick wouldn’t have any reason to hang around here anymore.

I let Theo drive us to Hannah Styles’ home. I didn’t particularly like driving, and even though the lunch hour rush was over by now, traffic in Miami never really died down. Even though I preferred being in control, I trusted Theo, and it was a sacrifice I was willing to make if it meant not having to deal with the stress of doing combat with other motorists.

Hannah’s house was cute. It was two stories, with an ample front yard and a wooden front porch painted white. There were colorful balloons tied to the mailbox, and a row of tables sat out on the grass in front of the house, laden down with an assortment of food and drinks. As we pulled up the driveway, I could see a group of people gathered on the front porch of the house with drinks in their hands.

The group on the porch stopped talking and turned to look at us as we got out of the car.

“Can we help you?” One of the women on the porch called in a pretentious voice.

“We need to speak with Hannah Styles,” I replied as I moved toward the porch. There were paper plates filled with leftover food and drained cups littered around what was clearly a beer pong set-up on one of the tables. Considering how early it was, they’d either been partying since last night or had no qualms about getting drunk in the middle of the day. “I’m Agent Owens with the SDCT. This is Agent Marshall.”

“Well, what’s all this about?” the same woman scoffed indignantly.

“I’m sorry,” I smiled acerbically. “Are you Hannah Styles?”

“Um, no but--”

“Then this doesn’t concern you,” I cut her off as I turned to the rest of the group. Stein had sent us a report about Hannah that included her driver’s license. I spotted her easily enough, standing at the back of the crowd. She was slightly hunched over and actively attempting to avoid making eye contact with me.

I shoved my way through the small crowd until I was standing in front of Hannah. She looked up at me timidly. She looked a little thinner than she did in her driver’s license, but she was clearly the same woman from the photo.

“Hannah Styles?” I asked, even though I was certain it was her.

She nodded nervously. Her eyes kept darting back and forth between her friends and me. It took all of my self-restraint not to roll my eyes. To think she’d be worried about appearances in this kind of situation.

“You know why I’m here, right?” I asked her. Flint had sent us to confirm whether Lorenzo Russo was telling the truth, but judging by her reaction at our arrival, I had a strong suspicion that she was the woman we were looking for.

She nodded haltingly and looked down at the ground. I scoffed. It was difficult to imagine that such a weak and pathetic woman could have killed Alexis Rothschild as viciously as she had. It was amazing the depths to which human beings could sink.

“All right,” I replied as I leaned in to mutter in her ear. “Why don’t you just come with us calmly so we won’t have to handcuff you in front of all of your little friends?”

Honestly, I didn’t care all that much about preserving Hannah’s dignity, but I didn’t really feel like struggling to get her into custody either.

“Okay,” she replied quietly, as I expected she would. Shame really was a strong manipulator.

I nodded to Theo and then placed a hand on