Page 3 of A Shot at Love
“Wait a minute.” She clutched it to her chest as if she were protecting a child from a threat. “You can’t keep the card. All my work is on it.”
“We won’t erase anything you need,” Ky told her. “Or let anything happen to it.”
“This is ridiculous.” Gemma blew at her bangs. “How do I know you won’t keep it as some kind of evidence? I haven’t uploaded the pictures I took today. I need those shots.”
“I told you you’d get the card back,” Ky said, his patience wavering. “Now we’re wasting time. Jon?” Dismissing them, he walked away and over to the scene of the shooting.
*
Gemma paced the small room for the hundredth time, her arms folded across her chest, desperately wanting to hit something.
No, not something. Someone. Agent Pappa-pain, or whatever the heck his name was.
For over two hours she’d been confined to this cramped, windowless, and drab room. During the first hour she’d written, in full detail, everything she’d witnessed on the street corner. Agent Winters had guided her through the questions while she wrote the answers in her smooth, precise script. When they were finished, he’d left her, promising to return shortly.
Winters’s definition of shortly was exceedingly different from hers.
With a heavy sigh, she plopped back down into a metal chair, arms still crossed, and thought about Winters’ partner, Special Agent Moron. Reconsidering, she added, a hunky moron, but one nonetheless.
Gemma had been speaking on the phone when she’d turned and seen him approaching. Her first thought had been serious eye candy. Clad in a supremely well-fitted dark-blue suit, he simply tore up the pavement on his way to her, those long legs striding with purpose and determination in each step. His face was a contradiction in origins. Deep, milk-chocolate colored hair, cut just a bit too short for her liking, with soft, gold flecks framing his temples and the top of his head. His skin was a light golden brown, giving the impression he spent a great deal of time in the sun. Eyes the color of the sea at sunrise, so light green, they almost appeared crystal with the sun hitting them, were surrounded by jet-black eyelashes Gemma admitted she was jealous of. His face was angular, the jaw tapering into a rock solid V at its tip, a small crevice winking out right below his lower lip.
All-in-all it was a face she wanted to photograph, knowing just the way she’d capture it. The fact he’d yanked her along after him like an errant child got her dander up. Coupled with the way he’d carelessly held her camera, it made her want to kick some sense into him.
God, what a day.
All she’d planned on doing was spending a few hours walking along the city streets, shooting interesting faces. She was almost done when the dapper-looking gentleman alighted from the restaurant, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. Gemma recognized that smile. It was the same one she always had after treating herself to some well-deserved Cherry Garcia ice cream after a tough, demanding day. She knew without a doubt the man had just eaten a pleasant meal. Satisfaction like that came only from two things: good food or great sex. Since he was walking along with two testosterone hulks in conservative suits, she figured it was the food part of the equation dancing on his face.
In the blink of her camera shutter’s eye, the scene had changed to one of horror. Professional instinct made her continue shooting the events as they unfolded, capturing the slaying of the three men. She turned her camera when she realized the direction the shots were coming from, and through her viewfinder found the van speeding off. Pointing her lens at its retreating back, she zoomed in on the license plate. Without even thinking about the composition of the shot, she snapped as fast as she could, trying to record as much information as possible.
After the van escaped, she ran to the victims to see if she could help in any way. It was too late for all three of them. The sound of sirens glued her to the spot. She’d located the first officers to arrive, told one of them she had footage of the incident, and then had been led away from the scene to wait. A quick call to her brother-in-law Josh was interrupted by the arrival of the arrogant FBI Agent.
*
Ky watched her pace the length of the room from the video camera mounted on the wall in the corner. “What do we know about her?”
