Better Off Dead. Meryl Sawyer

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      Within the hour WITSEC had her on Con Air, the private federal airline that usually shuttled prisoners. They flew her back to the WITSEC safe site and orientation center in a secret Washington suburb. She’d arrived there with Zach in an armored vehicle with blackout windows.

      This time she had been prepared for what was going to happen. Movement within the center was as controlled as it is in prison. Doors automatically bolted and could only be opened by the Federal Marshals on duty. Hallways were monitored by motion detectors and video cameras.

      The compound, she’d been informed the first time she was there, could hold six families without any of them seeing each other. The typical orientation lasted two weeks, including a formal risk assessment of each witness. Her cover blown meant her risk assessment this time was sky high.

      They’d spent an entire day debriefing her and trying to find out how she’d been compromised. Even Curt Masterson, head of WITSEC couldn’t decide what had happened. They had wiretaps on Rutherford’s and Ames’s telephones, and they were under surveillance. As far as the FBI could tell neither of the men had contacted a hit team.

      She suspected there was an internal leak within WITSEC. After all, Derek had warned her that someone had tried to access her file. Federal Marshals had their price, and no doubt, the ruthless executives would pay any amount of money to have her killed rather than to allow her to testify.

      She had a dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs, but she had managed to outsmart the hit team. Masterson decided she needed some minor cosmetic surgery to change her appearance and green contacts to conceal her blue eyes before he was willing to relocate her.

      Curt Masterson had listened to how the WITSEC 800 number and the Santa Fe FBI Field office both had busy signals. He decided whoever Rutherford and Ames had hired wasn’t an ordinary hit team. They could be checking various states’ DMV databanks. With sophisticated high definition computer imaging, they could compare recent drivers’ license photographs to pictures of Devon when she’d been Samantha Robbins.

      Armed with a new face, another name, a new birth certificate and a Social Security card, she was flown to Honolulu. Witnesses were rarely relocated in paradise, Masterson reasoned. This would be the last place her enemies would think to look for her.

      It had taken a lot to convince Masterson to allow her to keep Zach. Her new handler, Warren Martin, certainly hadn’t wanted to help her find accommodations that would accept a dog.

      CHAD AND EDDIE were discussing how to set up an Exel spreadsheet. Chad couldn’t help think that part of the reason his friend had been bilked by an employee was that Eddie didn’t have a good grasp of his income and expenses. Spreadsheets were easy enough, but Eddie was resisting the change.

      “Hello,” called a willowy blonde from the door to the office, her figure silhouetted by the sunlight from the courtyard. She stepped forward into the office, and they could see her better. “I’m looking for Eddie Kukana.”

      Chad’s eyes roved over her slowly. Her high full breasts flared above a narrow waist and long showgirl legs. She turned her head slightly and shoulder-length blond hair rippled seductively across her shoulders. He clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t be staring at her slack-jawed.

      Devon gazed at both men, but it was the taller, powerfully-built man who caught her attention. Glossy chestnut hair hung across his forehead, a little longer than was currently stylish. Blue eyes filled with sparkling humor stared at her with undisguised sexual interest.

      The man had a commanding presence, a way of holding himself. She instantly knew he would not be easy to manipulate. He continued to gaze at her, taking in her entire body with assessing eyes that missed nothing.

      Her throat constricted and for a moment it felt as if someone were strangling her. The feeling passed—thankfully—and she drew in a deep hitching breath.

      What was wrong with her? The man hadn’t said a word, yet her pulse was thundering in her temples, and she suddenly felt light-headed. She must have the jitters over this interview. She pulled her eyes away from his.

      For a second neither of the men said anything. Chad wasn’t sure who they were expecting to arrive for the interview, but it wasn’t a knockout with a mane of tawny blond hair, cat-green eyes and a killer bod. She could stop a guy’s heart from a block away.

      “I’m Devon Summers. I have an interview for the wedding coordinator position.”

      Chad found his voice first. “This is Edward. Everyone calls him Eddie.”

      She walked toward them, not smiling, her eyes intent. “I hope the position hasn’t been filled.”

      “It hasn’t,” Eddie said, his tone gruff, a sure sign he was nervous.

      Chad stood up. “You have experience as a wedding planner?”

      “Coordinator,” she corrected him.

      Unusual green eyes, he thought. Hypnotic. Seductive.

      “Ms. Summers e-mailed me her résumé.” Eddie picked up a piece of paper from the top of a desk littered with brochures for his various party boat services, faxes and letters. “Impressive. Five years at the Cress Creek Country Club in Chicago.”

      “Napierville, actually. It’s one of the more upscale suburbs.” Devon wondered if her voice reflected her nervousness.

      “Right. Napierville.” The other man responded, grinning boyishly, his arresting blue eyes sparkling with humor.

      Uh-oh, Devon thought. This man is way too sure of his own charm. Like Tyler, she thought with a pang. He’s accustomed to women falling all over him. Well, not this woman.

      Chad decided Devon was a total babe, but not in the way Chad might have expected had he merely seen her from afar. When she spoke she had the glint of intelligence in her eyes and a very direct manner.

      What would she be like in bed?

      He’d bet the ranch that she liked physical sex. She probably would insist on being on top. Worked for him. He imagined her tawny hair brushing his face, her nipples tight and swaying slightly as she rode him hard.

      “Before that I worked three years at the Four Seasons in Philadelphia as the assistant coordinator.”

      “But you have no experience with weddings on the water,” Eddie said.

      Chad knew Eddie was thinking of an excuse not to hire Devon. When Eddie’s wife Malaea saw this babe, she would pitch a fit. Not that Eddie was a player. Far from it, but Malaea was extremely protective.

      Chad was protective, too, but for another reason. A hottie like this could easily take advantage of Eddie financially.

      Devon recited the cover story she’d concocted for this interview. “I did one wedding on Lake Michigan. The club catered the event on a member’s yacht. I coordinated everything.”

      Eddie nodded thoughtfully.

      “Sounds like she’s perfect for the job,” Chad said. No way would he let this woman not be hired even though he’d already decided he would have to keep his eye on her so she didn’t use Eddie.

      Okay, so keeping his eye on her wouldn’t be any problem. Keeping СКАЧАТЬ