"When? Are you sure it's him? Alright. I'll be in touch if we find anything," he said, and replaced the phone in his pocket.
"Jess, your husband is in a serious situation. A man fitting his description just killed several people in D.C., including an off-duty police officer," he said, and realized then that he had spoken too loudly.
He heard a commotion in the kitchen, and knew he needed to get her out of here immediately.
"What? This isn't Danny. He's not capable of this," she said, and stood up.
She looked panicked, and Edwards needed to keep her away from police officers. He heard the words "cop killer's wife," and knew this could spiral out of control quickly, especially with the lack of control and professionalism displayed by local police already.
"Jess, I think it would be in our best interest to get you out of here, and into a federal office where," he leaned in to whisper, "these idiots have no jurisdiction. They take the cop killing thing very seriously, and I don't know if I can control the situation with you here. We'll head to our satellite office and figure things out there. Sound fair?"
She nodded her head to indicate yes, but he could tell she was in a daze.
"I need to change," she offered weakly.
"I'll escort you upstairs, and you can pick out an outfit. You can change at the office. I don't think these guys will let you out of their sight, and they may become hostile when they figure out we're leaving," he whispered.
"Alright," she said, and tried to stand up, but she looked like she might pass out.
"Forget it. I have a better idea," he said.
"Special Agent Velasquez! Someone get Special Agent Velasquez," he said, and the SWAT officer surprisingly relayed his request.
He heard footsteps descend the stairs, and Velasquez appeared at the front of the room. She looked even uglier contrasted with Jessica Petrovich. Round face, poorly styled, light brown hair. Non-existent figure. He was pretty sure she was a lesbian, which made sense to him. He couldn't imagine she'd have any luck with men. She approached the back of the couch, and he loathed the idea of getting close enough to her to whisper.
"Agent Velasquez, I need you to go back upstairs, and as discreetly as possible, find Mrs. Petrovich an outfit to wear. Nothing fancy…"
"I have one hanging up on my closet door. It'll be fine," Jessica said with a catatonic look on her face.
Velasquez looked confused.
"Word just got out that her husband killed an off-duty cop in D.C. I need to get her out of here before things get out of hand, and she shuts down on us completely," he whispered, hoping Jessica couldn't hear what he said.
Agent Velasquez glanced past Edwards at Jessica, who was staring at the wall with a blank expression.
"Might be too late for that," she said.
"Just get the outfit."
"Got it. I'll have Ravenell bring the outfit and the keys to the car. All of our gear is offloaded, so you won't have to stick around," she said, and turned to leave.
"My purse too, please. It's in the kitchen. I have some makeup in there," said Jessica.
"Uh…sure hon," said the agent.
"Let's give them a minute, and we'll walk you out of here," he whispered to Jessica.
"Thank you," she said, lightly touching his knee with her hand.
He felt a surge of adrenaline pour through his body with the touch. Electric energy tingled throughout, stimulating all of his senses at once. He worried that he might ejaculate in his pants on the couch if she moved her hand closer to his groin. He didn't want her to remove her hand, but he would need to stand up in a minute, and he was worried that everyone would see his growing erection. He couldn't imagine the sensation he'd feel if she touched his manhood. She'd have to help him with this later, and he had a plan to make this happen. But first, he had to regain control of himself, and get her out of here without completely embarrassing himself.
He stood up and turned away from her, breaking the connection, pretending to check on the police progress in the kitchen. He saw Agent Ravenell grab her purse, and they shared a knowing glance. Once Ravenell began walking toward the front door, Edwards took Jessica's hand, almost stopping dead in his tracks from the sheer ecstasy of her touch, and took her to the front door. The SWAT officer at the doorway leading out of the family room accosted them.
"Where are you headed with her?"
Instead of insulting the officer, he went with a different approach, which required all of the restraint Edwards could muster.
"I'm taking her outside to get some fresh air. She doesn't look so good. Excuse us," he said, and edged past the officer.
They got to the door before the officer spoke into his headset, obviously no longer under Edward's spell. He heard some commotion in the kitchen just as Agent Ravenell met them and handed Jessica the purse.
"Outfit's in the car. Car keys are in the purse," he whispered to Edwards.
Ravenell turned back toward the hallway, just as a tall man dressed in a navy blue suit appeared in the kitchen, and started his way toward them. He cleverly positioned himself in the man's way, pretending to be confused, trying to buy Edwards some time. The agent's quick reaction allowed Edwards to move Jessica halfway across the lawn before he heard footsteps closing in.
"Excuse me," said an insistent voice, and Edwards turned toward the source of his newest level of harassment and potential embarrassment.
He found himself standing several feet from an incredibly tall, stocky man in a dark blue suit, who had placed both hands on his hips and cocked his head slightly to one side. Blue and red strobe lights bathed the seasoned police officer's face, and his grayish hair absorbed each color that passed over the tight haircut. He looked deadly serious, and had a commanding presence that made Edwards nervous. The man's face betrayed no emotion, regarding Edwards with disinterest. He was suddenly very aware of the several civilians, probably neighbors, who were standing about thirty feet away in an adjacent yard, perfectly situated to watch the brewing showdown. He wouldn't back down. Not for these bullies.
"Yes?"
"Where are you going with her?" said the man, and Edwards caught a glimpse of a silver badge under his suit coat, at waist level.
"I'm sorry, we haven't met. I'm Special Agent Justin Edwards. I'm in charge of this entire investigation. And you?"
"Lieutenant Ken Moody. Portland Police Department. This entire operation is under my control, and I can't let you take a key witness away from the scene," he said, taking a step forward.
Edwards was accustomed to this game, and stood his ground.
"And it was a well-executed high risk warrant operation, but I need to move the witness to a more secure location for questioning," said Edwards.
"I can't imagine a more secure location. Every SWAT officer within fifty miles is on scene," said Moody.
"I'm looking for something lower profile, with fewer distractions. She had a rough go of it in there, and I don't think she'll be much of a help to the investigation while half of Maine's police force tears her house apart," he said.
"Look, if she has information about her husband, she's not leaving my sight. We have a cop down because of her husband," said Moody.
"She's not a suspect in any local crime, right?" he said and waited two seconds before continuing through Moody's icy stare. "Right. I'll pass any relevant information regarding Daniel Petrovich through your office. I have the liaison's number. If any of your men attempt to stop me, or Mrs. Petrovich, I'll make sure you're cutting bait on one of those lobster boats out there by the end of the month," said Edwards, and he turned around.
"I'm filing an official complaint with your office, Special Agent Edwards. Your colleague at the local field office warned us about you. This is ridiculous," he said.