King of Crime ✔️

Another One? Part Two

As it turned out, the library was just across the café Samuel was waiting at. We had walked for five minutes, talking about the thesis and people we both knew, when he came in sight. 

The man wore, of course, a white shirt and dark-blue pants, as if it wasn't burning hot. He was reading something on his laptop, leaning his head on his palm. He was covered in shade, his strong arms prominently coming forward. 

I sighed softly at the sight. Damn, he really was a girl's wet dream embodied. I sure was lucky to have him on Johann's case, not some scruffy old man. 

He lifted his head up when we came close enough for him to hear us and leaned back to study the boy I brought with. Luka grinned at the man and turned to me.

"Well then, I'll be leaving. I'll see you at school, alright?" he queried, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, see you," I smiled. "Good luck on your thesis." He grinned back.

"Thanks. You good luck with your... brother?"

"Nah, husband," I said, matter-of-factly before turning around and head for the man waiting for me at the table. "See you at school."

"Bye, Sam!" He called after me and disappeared into the library. 

The Special Agent arched his eyebrow, eyeing me and my dress, as I sat down opposite to him. In the shade, my skin finally got a break from the blasting sun. I blew out my cheeks as I traveled my eyes to the man before me. His biceps were literally rolling under his sleeves.

"So, people call you Sam, too?" he queried, shutting his laptop closed. 

I let out a laugh, smoothing down my dress. "Myself included. Samantha sounds like my dad wanted a princess for a kid."

"And he didn't receive one?" he asked, taking out the big envelope with letters out of his bag. 

I stared at him, as his view went from the envelope to my dress again and back to meet my gaze. "Is he your boyfriend?" 

His anticipating grey eyes awakened a flutter in my belly, as I thought of how gloriously I came last night because of him.

"No, I just met him in the bus. He goes to the same college as me," I explained, a little intimidated by the man. 

He made a noise of understanding, taking the letters out. 

"Did you manage to trace the call, yesterday?" I quickly asked, knowing how fast the Special Agent got to business, and was gone again.

"Yeah, we did a raid early this morning." I noticed the bags underneath his eyes and the stubble on his jaw. He saw me studying him and rubbed with his thumb over his chin. "It was a hotel room. We didn't get him, but we did find some other interesting things." 

I nodded, unable to melt the smile off my face. My little brother would've freaked out if he knew I was having casual conversations with a Special Agent. 

The man took a sip of his coffee and took out the letters out of the envelop with his long fingers, as a waitress walked over to our table.

"Hello there, would you like me to get you something to drink?" the woman queried with a sweet expression, patting her pen against her notebook.

"No, thank you, I'm good." I returned her smile kindly, cooling my skin on the metal of the chair, as Samuel also looked up to the dark-skinned woman.

"I'd like a slice of the apple pie, please." He said. The waitress smiled a little sweeter at him and wrote it down.

"An apple pie for mister, that's it?" She asked and he nodded, returning his focus to the letters. As the waitress left, I let out a laugh and reached in my backpack. A slice of apple-pie. Who would've thought?

"I've got another letter for you, Agent Thomson, I got it this morning." I handed him the wrinkled letter. "He used an alias here, though. But it's definitely him." 

He looked at me, a little amused, as he took the letter, streaking it flat on the surface before him.

"Agent Thomson? If you want to address me formally, it's Special Agent Thomson. But you may call me Sam, as well."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir," I chimed. 

His grey eyes playfully met mine, before reading through the letter, to put it on top of the stack of letters. I felt myself starting to blush at his gaze, wanting to see more of his expressions.

"Andreas Brunsvold. But the content aligns with the others; incredibly sexual." He glanced at me, as if he judged me for Johann's personality. "I guess this is not really a crime anymore, since you turned eighteen, but you can still sue him for it once he's in court," he explained. 

I waved my hand dismissively, unable to look him in the eyes.

"I'm not offended by it. It really isn't that sexual. I don't feel like a victim in all this, I'd just like to live a normal life again," I spoke, my eyes following the hips-waggling waitress who returned with a slice of pie. 

The Special Agent, Samuel, shrugged, analyzing me. "Well, alright. If you don't want to." 

He leaned back in his chair, mumbling a thank you to the waitress who placed the pie on the table, and folded his hands on his crotch. I returned my gaze to his eyes, suddenly awfully aware of my bare skin. He got me shy.

"Did you get anything else from the letters?" I eventually queried, needing the tension to end.

"Yes, sure did," he responded but didn't clarify what it was he found. It's like the thing I was trying hard to create with him, deflated again. He sure was a hard guy to get to know, but it only made me want to try harder. 

After another silence, he reached in his bag and took out a photograph.

"Can you tell me whether you've seen this person around Hannig? We got her name from the dealer," he explained, handing me the photo and picking up his fork to devour his pie. 

I studied the woman in the picture. It was a very blurry shot, and half of her face was covered by her hand, but you could clearly see that she was a remarkably stunning woman. She had long, pale blond hair, and she was around the thirty-five, probably. I thought of the woman I heard Johann talk to during our conversation yesterday.

I looked up from the picture to find Samuel's plate completely empty, and I snickered. He didn't meet my smile, causing a sting to erupt in my stomach. Instead, he laid down his fork on the plate and took the last sip of his coffee. A cold man, for sure.

I was about to tell him I didn't know the woman, when I saw a man approaching behind him. 

Samuel followed my gaze and turned around, lifting his hand to the very tall and incredibly scary-looking man. The guy looked like he came straight from the Italian mob; from his piercing eyes to ravens black hair. His dark shirt was stretched over his chest like it was about to tear open in any second.

"Ah, that's the CIA-agent you asked about. He's the second reason I asked you here, he wanted to speak to you, too," Samuel explained. 

I broke out in cold sweat, as gravity suddenly seemed to intensify tenfold. The CIA-agent? Was that the Englishman Johann had warned me for? I followed the man's movements as he made his way towards the table, severely intimidated. That man looked like everything Johann made him out to be. 

God, I so hoped he was wrong about this.