“Who are you texting?” She inquired.
“Not texting.” Trace’s grey eyes found hers again. “I’m taking notes. What else do you remember about the guy with the package? Can you describe what he looked like?”
“I was about to ask the same thing.” An unfamiliar man pushed the privacy curtain aside and entered the room.
In a swift move, Trace stepped between the uninvited guest and Emma.
He’s protecting me.
“Who the hell are you?” Trace growled.
Unimpressed, the other man pulled a badge from his belt and held it up for Trace to see. “Detective Eric West. And you are?”
Eric West. Why does that name sound so familiar?
“Trace Winters.” He crossed his arms at his chest again, the movement pushing against his already bulging biceps. “I’ve been assigned as Miss Cooper’s protection detail.”
Okay, so that was a bit of a stretch. Still, Emma didn’t feel the need to correct him.
“Assigned by whom?”
“My brother,” she supported Trace’s claim. When the detective turned his blue eyes her way, Emma remembered where she’d heard the name. “Wait, you’re Derek’s brother, right?”
“I am.” The man nodded as he looked at her from around Trace’s wide shoulder.
“I’m Emma Cooper.” She slid off the bed. “Sean’s sister.” With a quick, sideways glance in Trace’s direction, she added, “Trace is the new R.I.S.C. operative assigned to lead Charlie Team out in Virginia.”
Trace’s chiseled face fell into a deep frown as he looked back at her. “You should stay in bed.”
“I’m fine.” She waved him off, refusing to show the residual dizziness she was still fighting.
It actually felt good to stand and stretch her legs. She’d been sitting in that bed for so long, her butt was completely numb.
Dressed in a pair of blue scrubs the hospital had provided, Emma carefully padded barefoot across the cold tile as she made her way to the two men.
“What is it you want to know, Detective?” When she noticed the not-so-subtle glance the other man shot Trace’s way, she said, “Oh, it’s okay. He was there when everything happened.”
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that.” Detective West pulled a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket. “I couldn’t help but overhear as I reached your room...you said a man delivered a package to R.I.S.C.’s office. Can you describe him?”
“Late teens and taller than me, about six feet. He had short brown hair that looked like it was growing out from a buzz cut, brown eyes, and was wearing baggy jeans and a black Metallica t-shirt that had definitely seen better days.” She thought for a moment, retrieving the memory of the kid as he’d walked away. “He had on a pair of worn-out, black tennis shoes. I think they may have been Adidas, but I’m not a hundred percent on that. Oh, and he had a tattoo of a dragon on the left side of his neck. ”
Both men blinked. They shared a look before turning their surprised gazes back to her.
“What?” Emma’s brow furrowed.
“Nothing.” Detective West responded. “It’s just that, uh...most eye-witness accounts are fuzzy, at best. Especially after something as traumatic as an explosion.”
She shrugged. “I’ve always had an eye for detail.”
“Lucky for us.” He jotted down a few more notes. “What else do you remember?”
Drawing in a breath, Emma went on to explain the man’s odd behavior in regard to the package.
How he’d insisted he be the one to give it directly to Jake. And how, after she’d stood her ground, he’d shoved it into her hands before taking off in a rush.
She also admitted that she’d thought about getting Jake out of the meeting but had decided against it.
“If I’d gotten him sooner, everyone could’ve cleared the office before the bomb detonated.” Emma locked eyes with Detective West. “It was a bomb, right? I mean, that’s why you’re here.”