what the hell do you think you're doing?"
A shriek filled the air.
11
Ben spun around.
Lorraine Sampson clung to a handsome man with milk chocolate skin, wide receiver shoulders, a sleek bald head and piercing black eyes. Her shrieking had stopped. Through her tears, she clasped the man's face between her hands and kissed him soundly on the lips.
Ben couldn't help but stare. The man was intimidating.
Not someone I'd like to bump into in a dark alley.
Of course, there was no denying who the unanticipated specter was. Porter Sampson. In the flesh.
The man reeked of alcohol, and his clothes had seen better days. The gray dress pants were wrinkled and the white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and stained with either red wine or blood.
Ben hoped it was wine.
Sampson peered over his wife's head and shot him a menacing glare. "Who are you?"
"Agent Benjamin Roberts. I'm with the CFBI."
"What the hell is the CFBI doing in my home, going through my things?"
Ben forced a smile. "We were investigating your disappearance."
The man opened his mouth to reply, but his wife cut in.
"You scared me, Porter. Where have you been?"
Sampson shook off his wife. Without a word, he plucked a cigar from the built-in humidor, snipped the end and lit it. A stream of fragrant smoke poured from his mouth.
He scowled in Ben's direction. "You haven't answered me, sir. What were you doing poking around in my safe?" The cigar dangled from the corner of his mouth, bobbing up and down as he spoke.
"We were worried about you. Your wife reported you missing. We were looking for a clue as to your whereabouts."
"And you thought you'd find it in my safe?"
"We didn't have anywhere else to look."
Ben caught the overpowering scent of alcohol.
Uh-oh, Sampson's been on a bender. Guess his days of sobriety are over.
Porter Sampson dropped into the leather chair, asserting a position of control. "Well, you don't have to worry any more. As you can perfectly see, I am not missing. And I'll thank you to keep out of my personal belongings."
Ben gritted his teeth. The man was starting to irritate him. "I'm just following procedure."
"Listen, Agent Robins―"
"Roberts," Ben said in a tight voice.
Sampson inspected the cigar, then took a long drag. Finally he said, "Anything else I can help you with?"
Ben sank into the chair across from him. "Well, for starters, you can tell me where you've been."
"I was…out. I had a meeting to go to." Pause. "I think."
"You think ?" Lorraine snapped. "You'd better explain yourself, Porter Lee Sampson. Don't think I can't smell the booze on you, 'cause I can."
"I know that, Rainey!"
"How could you?"
The hurt in Lorraine's voice made her husband wince.
"I'm sorry," he cried out. "I slipped up somehow, but I don't remember any of it."
"That's mighty convenient," she said in a quiet voice.
"I'm telling the truth."
"Sure you are." Lorraine shook her head slowly and moved toward the door. "I'll make you something to eat."
After she'd gone, Sampson said, "I used to lie to her all the time, back when I was drinking at the bars every night, but I haven't gone near one in over a year. Not that I know of anyway. I assure you, I'm not lying, Agent Roberts." He yawned and Ben noticed a gold-capped tooth. "I have no idea why I smell like a brewery."
"Where were you then?"
With a sigh of defeat, Sampson slumped down in the chair, the gravity of his situation finally sinking in. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow, past a dark mole below his right eye. A quick swipe of a beefy hand took it away.
"I'm not sure exactly. Last thing I remember was working here last night."
" Two nights ago," Ben corrected.
"What?" Wild, dark eyes betrayed the man's confusion and fear. "I've been gone two days? That's not possible. I was in my office last―"
"What day is it?"
"Tuesday."
Ben shook his head. "Wednesday. You've been missing for over thirty hours."
Sampson stared at the cigar for a long moment. Finally he tamped it
A shriek filled the air.
11
Ben spun around.
Lorraine Sampson clung to a handsome man with milk chocolate skin, wide receiver shoulders, a sleek bald head and piercing black eyes. Her shrieking had stopped. Through her tears, she clasped the man's face between her hands and kissed him soundly on the lips.
Ben couldn't help but stare. The man was intimidating.
Not someone I'd like to bump into in a dark alley.
Of course, there was no denying who the unanticipated specter was. Porter Sampson. In the flesh.
The man reeked of alcohol, and his clothes had seen better days. The gray dress pants were wrinkled and the white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and stained with either red wine or blood.
Ben hoped it was wine.
Sampson peered over his wife's head and shot him a menacing glare. "Who are you?"
"Agent Benjamin Roberts. I'm with the CFBI."
"What the hell is the CFBI doing in my home, going through my things?"
Ben forced a smile. "We were investigating your disappearance."
The man opened his mouth to reply, but his wife cut in.
"You scared me, Porter. Where have you been?"
Sampson shook off his wife. Without a word, he plucked a cigar from the built-in humidor, snipped the end and lit it. A stream of fragrant smoke poured from his mouth.
He scowled in Ben's direction. "You haven't answered me, sir. What were you doing poking around in my safe?" The cigar dangled from the corner of his mouth, bobbing up and down as he spoke.
"We were worried about you. Your wife reported you missing. We were looking for a clue as to your whereabouts."
"And you thought you'd find it in my safe?"
"We didn't have anywhere else to look."
Ben caught the overpowering scent of alcohol.
Uh-oh, Sampson's been on a bender. Guess his days of sobriety are over.
Porter Sampson dropped into the leather chair, asserting a position of control. "Well, you don't have to worry any more. As you can perfectly see, I am not missing. And I'll thank you to keep out of my personal belongings."
Ben gritted his teeth. The man was starting to irritate him. "I'm just following procedure."
"Listen, Agent Robins―"
"Roberts," Ben said in a tight voice.
Sampson inspected the cigar, then took a long drag. Finally he said, "Anything else I can help you with?"
Ben sank into the chair across from him. "Well, for starters, you can tell me where you've been."
"I was…out. I had a meeting to go to." Pause. "I think."
"You think ?" Lorraine snapped. "You'd better explain yourself, Porter Lee Sampson. Don't think I can't smell the booze on you, 'cause I can."
"I know that, Rainey!"
"How could you?"
The hurt in Lorraine's voice made her husband wince.
"I'm sorry," he cried out. "I slipped up somehow, but I don't remember any of it."
"That's mighty convenient," she said in a quiet voice.
"I'm telling the truth."
"Sure you are." Lorraine shook her head slowly and moved toward the door. "I'll make you something to eat."
After she'd gone, Sampson said, "I used to lie to her all the time, back when I was drinking at the bars every night, but I haven't gone near one in over a year. Not that I know of anyway. I assure you, I'm not lying, Agent Roberts." He yawned and Ben noticed a gold-capped tooth. "I have no idea why I smell like a brewery."
"Where were you then?"
With a sigh of defeat, Sampson slumped down in the chair, the gravity of his situation finally sinking in. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow, past a dark mole below his right eye. A quick swipe of a beefy hand took it away.
"I'm not sure exactly. Last thing I remember was working here last night."
" Two nights ago," Ben corrected.
"What?" Wild, dark eyes betrayed the man's confusion and fear. "I've been gone two days? That's not possible. I was in my office last―"
"What day is it?"
"Tuesday."
Ben shook his head. "Wednesday. You've been missing for over thirty hours."
Sampson stared at the cigar for a long moment. Finally he tamped it
Similar Books
