Julie Garwood - The Ideal Man

“That’s good to hear,” Willis said. Shaking his head, he added, “You all had quite a commotion here, didn’t you? Were you on duty?”

Roland vigorously nodded. “I sure was, but I didn’t see any of it happen, thank goodness. I didn’t even hear the gunshots.”

“What exactly did happen?”

Roland was eager to recount what he had heard, and when he had finished, another volunteer named Bill added a few facts.

“The way I heard it,” Bill began, “a man and a woman were running away from the federal agents, and then suddenly the man turned around and shot the agent closing in on them.”

Roland plopped down in a swivel chair and rested his elbows on the arms. “That’s how I heard it, too,” he agreed.

“Did they catch the man and woman yet?” Willis asked, knowing full well they hadn’t.

“No,” Bill said.

“But they will,” Roland interjected. “And when they do, that pair will be put away for a long time. You don’t get off with a light sentence when you shoot a federal agent.”

“Have you heard why the FBI was after them?” Willis asked, leaning on the counter as though he had all the time in the world to chat.

“I heard it was a sting operation,” Bill answered eagerly. “They were selling guns or drugs or something.”

Roland shook his head. “That’s not what I heard. One of the secretaries in admissions told me the security guard said they were passing government secrets.”

Before the two men could get into an argument, Willis steered the conversation in another direction. “Does the FBI know who they’re looking for?”

“FBI agents and cops have been crawlin’ all over the place trying to get information, looking for witnesses,” Roland said.

“Miles down in X-ray told me the agent was close enough he could identify them if he had to.”

“That’s great,” Willis replied. “You know what I heard?”

“What’s that?” Roland asked.

“There was a girl on the track who might have seen the whole thing. Someone said she was a high school kid running laps.”

Roland snorted. “There wasn’t any girl on the track,” he scoffed. “It’s our own Dr. Sullivan. Does she look like she’s in high school to you, Bill?”

“No, of course she doesn’t. More like college age.”

“What kind of doctor is she?” Willis asked.

“Surgeon,” Bill answered. “She’s the one who took the bullet out of the agent. Lucky for him she was there when he got shot.”

“Sure is,” Willis said. “Any other witnesses that you know of?”

“I’m sure if anyone else got close enough to see the man and woman, the FBI will find them. They’ve been talking to everyone around here.”

“That’s right,” Roland agreed. “They stopped me on my way in this afternoon to ask me questions.”

After a few more minutes of conversation, Willis Cogburn was on his way to his car. He’d parked in the back lot so no one would see he wasn’t driving a florist van. Once he was inside, he made a call.

He didn’t waste time on a greeting but said, “Goodman will be going home at the earliest the day after tomorrow. He’s in room four twelve, so you can keep tabs on him in case they let him go sooner. Remember, George, we don’t do anything until Cal gives us the go-ahead. Just be ready.”

“Did you find out who the girl is?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then, let’s get this done. The sooner the better to my way of thinking.”

“That’s not your call. You know the instructions. I get her at the same time you get Goodman. Cal doesn’t want any deviations from his plan. He wants it to happen simultaneously.”

“Cal doesn’t even know for certain if Goodman or the girl can ID him or Erika,” George pointed out.

“He’s a careful man,” Willis replied. “He doesn’t take chances, and he’s paying us a lot of money.”

“That’s right,” George said. “But we don’t get the rest of the money until the job’s done, and like I said, the sooner the better.”

“How many times do I have to say it? We wait for the go-ahead.” Willis all but shouted into the phone. “You were in the army, for God’s sake. Show a little discipline. You should be used to taking orders. You don’t want to get on Cal’s bad side. I brought you in because you’re my little brother, George, but my neck is on the line here. Don’t screw this up. If you do the job right, he’ll want to use you again, and each time you’ll make more money until you’re a regular like me. Be patient.”

Unfortunately, George was not the patient kind.

It wasn’t the worst invitation Ellie had ever received. The fact was, it didn’t even make the top ten. Still, it was strange, and the question remained: Had Max actually asked her out? She replayed the conversation in her mind several times and decided, no, he hadn’t asked. He’d told.

Maybe it wasn’t even a real date. Ben would probably be with him. The two of them were in town for only a short while, and they needed someone who was familiar with the city to take them to a good restaurant. Yes, that was it… maybe.

Every time she thought about it, she laughed. Max had left his card on the coffee table with his cell phone number. She could have called and canceled, but she didn’t. Instead, she spent an hour the next afternoon going through her pitiful wardrobe, trying on one outfit after another, and finally settling on a black-and-white sundress with a full skirt and a boatneck. The fit through the waist was snug, and the length reached mid-knee. She decided to wear her new-last-year black ballet flats. It was either those or her flip-flops, unless she wanted to wear tennis shoes. The heels she’d worn to the hospital banquet last month were out of the question. Her feet had ached for a week afterward.

She would have put on some cool jewelry, but she didn’t own any. She did have a silver heart her grandmother had given her for her eighteenth birthday, but the chain was broken, and she hadn’t had time to get it fixed.

Hair brushed and down around her shoulders; makeup, perfume, and body lotion applied-she was good to go.

She was ready at seven and he was on time. He looked surprised when he saw her, as though he expected someone else.

“You look nice,” he said.

So did he. He’d gotten a haircut and shaved. He still looked intimidating, she thought, but then he stood well over six feet and was built like a rock. He couldn’t really look any other way. Black pants, light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled back at the wrists, open collar, and the gun… the ever-present gun at his side.

He pulled the door closed and waited as she used her keys to lock both dead bolts. She dropped her keys into her purse and headed down the stairs.

“Is Ben joining us?” she asked.

He smiled. “Do you usually go out with two guys at the same time?”

She turned to him. “Then this is a date?”

They reached his rental car, a new SUV. He opened the door for her and said, “Sort of.”

Before she could ask him to explain, he changed the subject. “I made the reservation for seven thirty, but I got busy and didn’t download directions. Do you know the way? Or should I pull up the GPS?”

“I know the way. What’s a ‘sort of’ date?”

“How about no business talk until after dinner?”

Business? What kind of business? So it wasn’t a date. That realization led to the question: Okay, what did he want? And since it was business of a sort, why wasn’t Ben included?

Might as well find out, she decided. “What’s your partner doing tonight?”

“Working,” he answered. “You did a good thing for his wife. Addison worries.”

She smiled. “Yes, I know she does. I got three texts from her.”