The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 1-5 - Catherine Coulter [400]
She’d got him. His face was red and his hands were stiff at his sides. He looked ready to explode. She loved it. “Oh, how about this—you want to arrest me because I trashed my own house?”
Agent Anchor managed to control himself. He even managed a very stiff smile at Molly. Ramsey was surprised and hopeful that perhaps the man would stop being a jerk. Agent Anchor said finally, “Your attitude isn’t helping your case, Mrs. Santera.” He then looked at Ramsey, a dark eyebrow raised. The raised eyebrow was met with silence.
Agent Anchor said finally, “You look familiar.”
“He should,” Detective Mecklin said between chews on another oatmeal cookie. “He’s Judge Ramsey Hunt, you know the guy we’ve been hearing about from San Francisco and Chicago.”
Agent Anchor froze. He was used to being in charge and then Molly Santera and this guy Hunt had treated him like he was a Keystone Kop. “What are you doing here?”
Ramsey just smiled at him. “Well, you know, my house in San Francisco was trashed just like Mrs. Santera’s. We were thinking that there just might be some parallels. What do you think? Just maybe Mr. Shaker is a very thorough man?”
“I don’t appreciate your humor,” Agent Anchor said. “I know all this. But she shouldn’t have taken off to look for her daughter. She shouldn’t have refused to return to Denver after she’d found her. She shouldn’t have hindered my investigation.” He stared at Molly, his thin nostrils flared wide with dislike. “And she shouldn’t have insulted me when I walked in just now. Maybe if she’d done what I told her to, she wouldn’t have ended up with a dead husband. But then, you got a live judge, didn’t you?”
Molly shot a quick look toward Emma, who looked to be glued to the TV cartoon. Then she stood up in one smooth motion and kicked Agent Anchor hard in the shin. He gasped, grabbed his leg, then very slowly, he straightened. “I’m arresting you for assaulting a federal officer,” he said when he could speak again.
“I don’t think so,” Ramsey said. “Actually, she beat me to it. Stop being an ass, Agent Anchor.” He gracefully slid his hand to the man’s elbow. He said close to his ear, “I think you’re laboring under a severe misapprehension here. Listen up: She’s not her father. You’d best get that right away. Now, why don’t you put on your human clothes, sit down, and we can try to work together. If that isn’t to your liking, then I’ll call up your boss and Agents Savich and Sherlock, who worked the case with us in Chicago, and we’ll all have a talk. Your call, Agent.”
Agent Anchor wasn’t happy. On top of everything, the case of the murdered farmer in Loveland wouldn’t ever officially get solved now. They hadn’t even found the man who’d abused the little girl, and it had all started when she’d up and left Denver and gone out to hot-dog on her own. Ramsey Hunt was wrong about her. She was just like her father, he’d known it the minute he’d set eyes on her. She’d made the case go sour. And now this damned judge had taken her side. And he knew Savich.
Detective Mecklin pushed back from the table and rose. There were cookie crumbs on his solid red tie and on the white shirt that gaped over his belly. “Listen, we’re not getting anywhere with all this crap. Agent Anchor, sit down, if Judge Ramsey will let you.”
Molly said, “There’s also my daughter, Agent Anchor. Children hear most things adults say. I think we’ve said enough.”
Agent Anchor looked over at Emma, who was chewing gum, too fast. He had two kids. He knew when a kid was hearing things she shouldn’t. And now he had this judge in the mix.
“Yeah,” Agent Anchor said, and sat down.
There was dead silence. Detective Mecklin picked up another oatmeal cookie and said as he took a big bite, “If all this is connected,