Under The Agent's Protection

“Gus,” he said, dropping his voice.

The dog looked over his shoulder and trotted to stand at Wyatt’s side.

“Sweet dog,” said Everly, rising to her feet.

Wyatt shrugged. “You didn’t come here to meet my dog. What do you want?”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said.

“It’s freezing out here and I just want to talk to you for a minute.” She blew on her hands and rubbed them together. “I bet Gus has a warm belly that he likes to have rubbed.”

The dog barked excitedly. Wyatt opened the door. “You can have a minute but leave my dog’s belly alone.”

After leading her to the den, he gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat.”

She sat as he took a chair opposite her. She slipped out of her coat and Wyatt took a moment to admire her outfit and the way it molded to her curves. A long, cream colored sweater accentuated her breasts and a pair of leggings skimmed over her long legs. Despite the simplicity of her outfit, Everly Baker was chic and totally out of place in his modified farmhouse.

“I won’t waste your time with small talk,” she began. “I need your help.”

“Lady,” he said. “I’m the wrong person to come to for help.”

She ignored his statement and continued to speak. “There’s something wrong regarding my brother’s death and I don’t know what it is. I get the feeling the sheriff wants this all to go away quickly and aside from him, there’s no one I can trust.” Everly paused, then said, “Except you.”

“What makes you think I’m trustworthy?”

Gus wandered to the sofa and placed his head on Everly’s lap.

Traitor.

“I did a little Googling.” She stroked the top of Gus’s head and continued, as if talking to the dog. “It wasn’t like the information was hard to find. I know who you are, Special Agent Thornton. More than that, I know that you can help me figure out what happened to my brother.”

Wyatt hadn’t been called Special Agent for years. Nor did he ever want to hear his old title spoken again. His insides turned cold and hard. “You really should leave.”

“The press didn’t treat you fairly,” Everly continued as if he hadn’t just ordered her from his home. “I mean, it’s their job to sell papers and get viewers—but I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

Who was she to decide how he’d been treated? She wasn’t there. She didn’t know what it was to have his life ruined by innuendo and implications. Rising to his feet, he pointed to the door. “Out,” he said.

Everly lifted her palms. “Like I said, I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. I need an expert and you’re an expert. I need you. I can pay, if that’s the problem. Just name your price.”

“My past is none of your business and I’m definitely not interested in your money.” His pulse raced, pounding in his skull. Clenching his teeth, Wyatt said, “Get the hell out of my house and don’t ever come back.”

Gus whimpered and slunk to his bed in the corner.

Everly stood. All the color drained from her cheeks, leaving her chalky. She drew in a deep breath. It didn’t do much for her complexion. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

Snorting, Wyatt said, “You’re kidding, right? You look me up on the internet, find out all my dirty secrets, get my address and then come to my house uninvited? The only thing you’ve done is invade my privacy.”

With a nod, Everly turned to go. She picked up her coat from the sofa and slid it over her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said. “I didn’t care anything about your privacy, but I need to know what happened to my brother. I snuck into his hotel room and was attacked. That’s why I found you on the internet—”

“Attacked?” Wyatt interrupted. “By whom?”

With a shake of her head, Everly said, “They came up from behind and hit me hard enough to knock me out. When I found out who you are—were—I knew I had to ask for help. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“What did the sheriff say about the attack?” Wyatt really had to stop acting like he cared. Someone might get the wrong idea.

Everly regarded him for a moment. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. She didn’t just look tired, she looked exhausted. “I imagine Sheriff Haak would be more upset that I broke into Axl’s room than that I’d been assaulted.”

“I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t be driving if you’d lost consciousness.”

“I was healthy enough to drive out here, wasn’t I?”

“No offense, but you look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You just look like you’ve had a rough day, that’s all.”

“The worst of my life,” she said. Her eyes shone with tears and she looked away.

Wyatt hesitated. Against his better judgment, he could feel his resolve softening slightly. “If you looked me up on the internet, then you can guess why I don’t want to get involved in any suspicious deaths.”

“You think there’s something to investigate?”

“I didn’t say that,” Wyatt retorted. “I meant that there’s no immediate medical reason for your brother to have died.”

“Axl was found on your property, right? You can take me there now and show me where you found him, at least. Maybe we can find his camera. It wasn’t in his room, which means it’s still out there, somewhere. There’s got to be a link or a clue.”

Wyatt refused to admit that she was right. He also refused to admit that he’d already looked for the camera but found nothing. He turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows and saw nothing but the whiteness of the swirling snow. “There’s no real road out to the old schoolhouse, just a rutted track. With weather like this, it’d be easy to get disoriented or stranded. So, I’m not going out there until the weather clears, and neither are you.” He exhaled, realizing that he was about to make the worst decision of his entire life. “I’ll give you a ride back to town while the roads are clear, though. You shouldn’t be driving with a head injury and in a storm, no less.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “And, I’ll agree to review all the facts and evidence that we have so far. If there’s something that doesn’t seem right about your brother, I’ll talk to Sheriff Haak personally.”

Back in Pleasant Pines, Everly stood on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant. The wind was turning the snow into projectiles that left the skin on her face raw. The lump at the back of her head thumped with each beat of her heart. “Pie?” she said, echoing Wyatt’s last word.

“Yeah, pie. Flaky crust. Filling of choice.”

A lock of hair blew across her face and she pulled it away. “Why pie?”

Wyatt lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I like pie,” he said. “It’s like a ritual. Helps me think.” Pulling open the glass door, he gestured for her to enter. “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.”

Everly stepped into Sally’s on Main. Half a dozen booths lined the wall by the door. Opposite was a counter with stools and in between sat several small tables. Aside from another couple in the back booth and a woman behind the counter, the restaurant was empty.

Wyatt slid into a booth halfway back and Everly took the opposite seat. The woman from behind the counter approached with a pen and order pad in hand.

“Hey, sugar,” the older woman said to Wyatt. “What can I get for you?”

“Got some apple pie, Sally?”

“Sure do,” she said. “You want that warmed and served with ice cream?”