The Retrieval. Chapter One free porn video

Julia "Jules" Bradford glanced at her watch, sighed and then gently leaned her head back against the wall. 

She was ready to do just about anything to ease the throbbing headache she'd been battling ever since her alarm clock had gone off. She closed her eyes. Ugh. Nope, closing her eyes was not a good idea as her stomach let her know that yes, it was still in fact very nauseated. She sighed again...this was starting to look like it was going to be a long day. Trying to deal with a hangover in her own little cubicle sucked bad enough, but sitting in her boss's waiting room in one of these stupidly uncomfortable chairs for over thirty minutes? This was starting to feel like some new form of torture. 

Jules glanced over at her superior's administrative assistant who was busy typing on her computer. The woman had pretty much ignored her for the last half an hour. She would give Jules the occasional glance when she paused to answer her phone via one of those fancy headsets, but otherwise...nothing. Huh, Jules made a mental note as she continued to surreptitiously check her out. She'd never really noticed before that Atwood's assistant had that conservative, sexy librarian look going on. Jules waited until the woman glanced her way again and when she finally did, Jules flashed one of her patented "hey, since we're both sitting here, why don't we take a few moments to chat" smiles. 

The secretary didn't even crack a smile. She just politely ignored Jules and went back to typing. Jules shrugged to herself and sighed again. It's not like she was at the top of her game this morning anyway. A moment later the assistant's phone came to life with a slightly different sounding ring. The woman punched a button and listened to her headset for a moment before turning her attention to Jules. 

"Secretary Atwood will see you know."

Finally. Jules stood up and began to stretch, but had to put her hand on the wall to stave off a sudden bout of dizziness. She'd been sitting too long and she had consumed entirely too much alcohol over the weekend were the only two things she was absolutely sure of right at this moment. She steadied herself and then popped a breath mint in her mouth before pushing on the door that led into Atwood's office. Jules missed the disapproving little shake of the secretary's head.

As Jules entered the expanse of her boss' private sanctum, she tried not to grin. It never failed to amuse her that Henry Atwood seemed to have followed the blueprint for a government office right out of the DC handbook for government offices. There was the massive oak desk that was obviously the centerpiece of the room. On one side of that monstrosity stood the matching bookshelf with all of the appropriate American history volumes and autobiographies crammed onto the shelves. Above that was the obligatory framed American flag. On the opposite wall were various degrees, achievements and certificates perfectly hung in wooden frames that matched the rest of the furniture. And of course on the wall directly behind the man were about a dozen framed pictures of Homeland Security's Deputy Under-Secretary for Analysis Henry Atwood shaking hands with the President, the Homeland Director, foreign dignitaries, world leaders and any other VIP that was worthy of a photo op. 

"Have a seat, Jules," Atwood instructed as he hunted and pecked on a keyboard that sat off to the side. 

She sat down as instructed in one of the much more comfortable leather chairs facing Under-Secretary Atwood's desk. She took a deep, steadying breath and fought the urge to throw up in his trashcan. She mentally made a note that tequila was not her friend as she politely waited for him to finish typing whatever super-secret national security communication he was working on. Or he could have been updating his Facebook status for all she knew. Whatever, Jules concentrated on ignoring the feeling of nausea by studying the photos behind her boss's head. 

"So," Atwood turned away from the flat screen monitor and keyboard combo that sat on one side of his desk on a little pull out shelf and faced forward in his chair towards his employee. "How many times have I pulled your ass out of the fire, Jules?"

"Is it bad?" Jules winced.

"Yes, it is," Atwood confirmed with a solemn nod and then continued. "But I'm curious - do you actually know the number?"

"I guess I've never thought about it."

"Take a guess."

"Um," Jules tried to read his expression, "I'm going to go with...three?"

"It's six, Jules," Atwood said flatly. "I've come to your rescue and somehow figured out a way to salvage your career on six different occasions."

"Oh...wow..." Jules was literally surprised by the number. She really hadn't kept track. "Uh...I'm not exactly sure what the proper response would be at this moment, but I'm going to go with thank you. I mean, seriously, thank you, sir."

"I'm going to be honest," Atwood looked at her with a grave expression. "It probably won't be seven." 

"It won't?" Jules sat up straighter. "Am I being fired?"

"No, it isn't that simple," Atwood explained. "I did what I could, but...well, we'll get to that. But first I need to understand - what the fuck were you thinking?"

"I, uh, I can't honestly say that I was, sir," Jules admitted miserably and then grimaced as she stifled a burp and tasted tequila...this was definitely shaping up to be a long day.

"So you had no idea that she was the youngest daughter of the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Logistics and Material Readiness?" Atwood was starting to show some irritation.

"The Assistant Secretary of...Defense for - what?"

"The Assistant Secretary of Defense for Logistics and Material Readiness," Atwood repeated.

"I can say in all truthfulness that I had no idea," Jules replied.

"Okay...I believe you. So let's set aside the fact that she's the daughter of somebody important from the Secretary of Defense's office," Atwood went on. "Were you aware that it was the night before her wedding? That she was at her bachelorette party?"

"I think I remember something about a party," Jules mumbled quietly as she studied her shoes. She probably shouldn't mention that the young woman had been wearing a sash that said 'I'm the Bride, bitches!' 

"Un-fucking-believable," Atwood laughed harshly, but there was no humor in it. "I swear, your reputation as a womanizer is not only well-deserved, but underestimated - and that's saying a lot in this town."

Given the current circumstances, Jules chose to remain silent on that particular topic of debate.

Atwood just sat there and looked at her.

"I...uh...I mean, in my defense, she came on to me." Jules offered hopefully. She vividly remembered the young blonde pinning her up against the bathroom wall and then being kissed by those incredibly luscious lips. That bride-to-be had been so ripe for a woman like Jules that she had been practically ready to burst. "Shouldn't that at least make a difference or something?"

"Not even a little," Atwood answered truthfully.

"Shit," Jules mumbled. "So...what happens now?"

"I did what I could," Atwood shrugged. "You know the drill - if we had a Siberia, you'd be headed there. I did manage to keep your banishment in house, so you'll still be technically working for Homeland."

"So I'm not fired?" Jules perked up just a little.

"You may wish you were," Atwood raised an eyebrow. "You've been assigned out into the field. You'll be working for the Logistics Group."

"What?" Jules couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Me?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But...why? I don't know the first thing about logistics."

"It's simple," Atwood continued. "He wants you to quit. It's the prick's way of getting around all the red tape and bullshit paper trail of building a case and firing you for something that happened while you were off duty on your own personal time."

"But that's not fair." Jules complained.

"Are you serious?" Atwood looked at her like she should have known how the game was played. "What did you expect, Julia? The Assistant Secretary of Defense for LMR's daughter cancelled her wedding...on the morning of her fucking wedding - because of you." 

"You can't blame me for that shit!" Jules replied defensively. How could this be her fault?

"There's a video, Jules," Atwood replied through clenched teeth, "of you and her on top of the bar and then she declares her undying love for you right into the camera."

"Someone took a video?" Jules asked quietly almost as if she were questioning herself.

"Of course someone took a video - it was a public bar," Atwood almost spat.

"I - " Jules began and then stopped. 

"As if that video wasn't bad enough," Atwood continued, "The next morning - which if you're taking notes was the morning of her wedding, the young lady locked herself in a bathroom and refused to come out while she hysterically called out your name over and over."

"She did that?" Jules winced. 

"Yes, she did," Atwood nodded. "And she never did come out. Hell, maybe she's still in there, I don't know and really don't care. But what I do know is that her father - her very important, very powerful father - lost over a hundred grand in non-refundable deposits alone not to mention the social and political scandal he's having to deal with."

"Oh," Jules replied miserably. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Atwood barked that humorless laugh again. "You're lucky you didn't disappear in the middle of the night!"

"Like that was going to happen," Jules snorted and then caught herself and suddenly felt like she might throw up again when she realized that by the look on his face, Atwood might not be k**ding. 

"As I said before," Atwood resumed in a calmer tone, "I did what I could. You've been assigned to the Retrieval Team. Those guys work alone, so you're basically in control of your own destiny."

"What the hell is the Retrieval Team?"

"They're tasked with a lot of different...assignments," Atwood seemed suddenly hesitant, but then caught himself and quickly continued. "But you will be delivering Congressional subpoenas and then escorting those individuals being called to testify back to DC."

"Just great...lucky me," Jules rubbed her temples and then realized how that must have sounded. "Shit, I'm sorry, Hank. I didn't mean that towards you. I really do appreciate you going to bat for me."

"Don't worry about it," her now former-boss replied gruffly, but then softened his tone. "Look, you're one of the best analysts I have. Besides, you know I went way back with your Dad. I promised him a long time ago that I'd always try to look out for you."

"I know," Jules nodded and the little crack in her heart that constantly reminded her of how much she missed her father hurt a little more than usual. "Thank you. I think Dad would agree that you've more than lived up to that promise."

"Well, I probably would have thought twice about making that promise if I'd have known how much of a challenge you'd be," Atwood tried to joke. Jules forced a polite smile and her boss knew it had been a mistake. "Look, just keep your head down and do your job."

"Okay."

"If you're successful on this first assignment, there's a chance that this thing might eventually blow over," Atwood offered hopefully. "Keep a low profile and I'll try to pull some strings and get you back over here in Analysis where you belong."

"Wow," Jules was shocked. "I haven't even reported for duty yet and I already have my first assignment?"

"That is correct," Atwood nodded grimly and grabbed a manila file folder off the corner of his desk and handed it to her. "Needless to say it was handpicked just for you."

"Perfect," Jules mumbled as she accepted her fate in the form of file folder. 

Yeah, this was going to be a very long day indeed.

****

Leah Hartsall kept her head down as she stood in the express lane of the grocery store, patiently waiting her turn. 

She had her money in hand so she could quickly pay for the three bottles of water, three cans of tuna and a pack of gum that were sitting in her basket. To the untrained eye she was just another shopper minding her own business, but a keener observer might have noticed the way her eyes constantly moved and assessed, gauging the position of everyone and everything around her. In fact Leah was acutely aware of the exact position of the other eleven shoppers who were also waiting to check out at the three open registers. More than just aware of them, Leah knew their exact positions and could have given a basic description of each one of them including their clothing, distinguishing features and what they had in their buggies. 

This high degree of situational awareness wasn't something Leah did intentionally - half the time she wasn't even completely aware that she was clocking exits or mentally marking the position of everyone and everything around her. It was just something she did. It was more than a habit, it was instinct that had been born from long months of grueling training and then etched into her DNA from years of real world experience. It was a way of life for her, but she didn't like to focus on it. Whenever her mind went down that path it was too easy to think about the details of the how, why and where she honed her skill-sets - and those were memories that she wasn't particularly fond of dwelling on.

At the next register Leah could overhear the cashier giving the woman she was waiting on another exaggerated sigh of frustration as the young mother tried to console the crying baby on her hip. The c***d couldn't have even been a year old yet and the woman would do her best to quiet the baby and then go back to counting out her change. It was the third dramatically passive-aggressive exhalation the cashier had unleashed to make sure this woman in front of her knew she was not happy with her for holding up the line. The only two items the young woman was trying to buy were c***dren's Tylenol and diapers. The young woman kept quietly apologizing to the cashier who wouldn't respond to her with anything more than an annoyed smack of her lips. 

Leah paid for her items and as she was receiving her change she heard the man who was next in line after the struggling mother say something derogatory about her under his breath. Leah turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye saw him share a knowing look of disgust with the irritated cashier. The young woman had been counting out change and dealing with the fussy infant ever since Leah had gotten in line. She had a pretty good hunch that it was going to be a financial stretch for the young mother to pay for her items. 

Leah grabbed her meager plastic bag of groceries and stepped away from her check-out lane. She turned towards the far entrance where she had parked her truck, took two steps and suddenly bent over to touch the floor near the young woman's feet. Leah smoothly stood back up, stopping briefly to place a twenty dollar bill in front of the woman. Leah nodded once as she resumed walking and said, "Sorry ma'am, you must have dropped this."

"I don't think that's-- " the young woman began to respond but stopped when she saw that the athletic looking stranger wasn't going to wait around to debate the issue. 

"Yes, I believe it is," Leah called over her shoulder and didn't even pause as she walked towards the exit. 

The young woman paid for her items and had every intention of thanking the stranger, but by the time she got out to the parking lot, the tall woman was nowhere to be found.

****

"Hank, they can't be serious," Jules was on her cellphone pacing back in forth in her kitchen. "Did you even read this file?"

"I did," Atwood replied calmly into his phone. "Keep in mind that I really didn't have much say in the matter."

"This woman is a trained killer, Hank!" Jules raised her voice. She didn't feel like anyone was listening to her. "Hello? Did you hear me? She's a fucking assassin!" 

"No, she isn't, Jules," Atwood kept his tone firm and quiet. "You know as well as I do that per Executive Order 11905, no employee of the United States shall engage in, or conspire to engage in, political assassination. By policy this country doesn't condone nor employ assassins."

"Oh, we both know that's utter bullshit," Jules stopped pacing.

"And we both know this is an unsecured line!" Atwood shot back angrily. She could hear him clear his throat and regain control over his breathing before he continued. "Your assignment is to retrieve a former covert operator. I stress the word former. Yes, she worked on the dark side for a long time, but she's been out for over a year. She's a civilian now."

"Civilian my ass," Jules mumbled to herself as she stared down at the open file on her kitchen table. "So if she's so former this and former that, why exactly am I bringing her back in?"

"She has to testify before the Senate Intelligence Committee," Atwood explained. "If I'm not mistaken, it states that in the details of the assignment, does it not?"

"Why yes, yes it does," Jules confirmed. "But what doesn't it say?"

"Excuse me?" 

"What isn't in the file that I need to know, Hank?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jules."

"Hank," Jules paused and let her voice grow quieter. "Please?"

"Hypothetically," Atwood sighed heavily. "And I do mean hypothetically, Jules...a certain former covert operative might be subpoenaed to testify if, hypothetically, that testimony might be crucial if it were to dispute the hypothetical testimony of this hypothetical operative's hypothetical former team leader regarding the collateral damage of civilians. That is if such a former operator hypothetically existed."

"Does she even --"

"Jules," Atwood sternly warned. 

"Sorry...does this hypothetical operator know what he or she is hypothetically testifying about?"

"Doesn't matter as in that's not your concern. Retrieval only - you're basically just her ride back to DC," Atwood replied dismissively dropping the charade. "I have to go, Jules. Goodbye."

"That's just perfect," Jules laughed as the Deputy Under-Secretary for Analysis disconnected the call. She paused to blow an auburn curl out of her eyes and looked down at the file again. 

She started chewing on her thumb nail as she stared at the picture of the blonde woman she was supposed to bring back to DC.

****

Leah was in her zone as she pulled her last order of the day. 

She saw the 10 digit part number on the pick-sheet, visualized where it was on the shelf and then she'd automatically go to that aisle, pull the requisite number of parts and box them up for the customer. She went about finding each line item deliberately and methodically, letting her mind focus on the task rather than think about anything else. She liked it when she didn't have to think too much and she was able to let the part numbers consume her thoughts. Leah found the repetitiveness and physicality of it soothing. She wasn't the fastest order puller, but somehow she managed to consistently pull more orders day in and day out than almost all of her coworkers. The old adage of "slow is smooth, smooth is fast" served her well doing this detail-oriented job.

It was blazing hot outside even this late in the afternoon which was typical for North Carolina this time of year. Inside the stuffy warehouse it was at least ten degrees hotter. She had shed the light-weight, long sleeved shirt she wore over her sleeveless t-shirt hours ago once the heat began to build and sweat had started to soak through it. Now at the end of the day after almost 9 hours in this oven she could literally have wrung a puddle of water out of her shirt and sports bra. Leah didn't mind it all that much. It was honest work, it gave her a chance to burn off some of her physical energy and everyone she worked with pretty much left her alone. The novelty of being the lone female warehouse worker had worn off months ago, so now she was just another employee. She liked the anonymity.

She finished off the second pallet of the order and then double-checked her work to make sure she hadn't missed any of the part numbers that this customer had ordered. As usual, her order was 100% correct. Yep, slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Leah used a pallet jack to pull it around to the staging area and dropped it with the first pallet of the order. She proceeded to wrap both sk**s in shrink-wrap and marked them with the customer's name and 1-of-2 and 2-of-2 accordingly for the driver. 

She put her paperwork in the tray on the shipping desk and gave her supervisor a questioningly look. He nodded at her and gestured towards the time clock. Leah walked over and went through the process of punching out and then stepped inside to the front office area. She stood inside the door for a minute to soak in the almost artic chill of air conditioning. Just as she was about to head for the break room to grab her backpack and lunch box, she made note of one of the company's drivers who was standing too close to the desk of the last biller on duty this late in the day. All of the schedulers and billers worked staggered shifts to make sure they could cover all of their customers without incurring overtime. The driver seemed to be talking to her quietly as she concentrated on entering an order into the system so that it would generate a pick list. 

Leah's instincts kicked in and the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had no idea what the large, burly driver might be saying, but in just the few seconds she was able to observe the interaction she could tell by the woman's body language that the biller was uncomfortable. Her posture was hunched, tense. She was also slightly leaning away in her seat from where the driver was standing. Leah could also tell by the driver's furtive mannerisms that he more than likely wasn't discussing company business.

Leah tried to remind herself that it wasn't any of her business as she turned and went on through the swinging door to the break room. She grabbed her little cooler from the fridge and stuck it in her backpack. As she shrugged the pack onto her shoulders, she returned a few polite hellos with a nod from a couple of guys who worked on the second shift and then headed back out. She paused as she was about to turn right and go back out into the warehouse. The driver was now sitting on the corner of the biller's desk, crowding in on her personal space so that the woman actually had to lean to the side to try and type.

Leah just stood there, mentally going through the arguments. Low profile, remember? Don't get involved; don't draw attention to yourself...remember? You like it here, so don't blow it by getting involved. She heard the billing clerk politely ask the driver to please stop, she was trying to work. Leah sighed heavily. The one thing in this world that Leah hated with every fiber of her being was a bully...especially a bully that targeted a woman. 

She turned left and walked slowly towards the biller's desk, trying to remember the woman's name. They had never been formally introduced, but she remembered coming in the front entrance on her first day on the job...and as she had passed by the biller's work station she remembered there was a name plate on the woman's desk. Cheryl? No, it was Sheri with one r and an "i".

"Excuse me, Sheri?" Leah's quiet voice interrupted the driver just as he was leaning over to try and whisper something in the woman's ear.

"Yes!" Sheri said a little too quickly as she stood up and turned around. She took a full step away from her desk to create some space between herself and the driver. The driver grunted and cast a glance over his shoulder to give Leah a dirty look. 

"What can I help you with - it's Lisa, isn't it?"

"Leah," Leah corrected her and realized now why she had remembered the name plate. Sheri was a very attractive woman. "Uh, can you double check that last order I pulled for Parsons? I think there was a bad part number on it."

"Of course," Sheri smiled up at the quiet woman from the warehouse. She then looked at the driver sternly. "Excuse us, please."

"No problem, Cherry," the driver laughed at his own joke and stood up. He smiled at the billing clerk and then gave Leah another scowl before telling no one in particular, "I'm off to Asheville. Catch y'all tomorrow." 

The two women stood by the short filing cabinets next to Sheri's desk and watched the driver leave through the warehouse exit. Leah folded her muscular arms across her chest and stared at the door while Sheri rifled through copies of the day's orders. She finally pulled the office copy of the pick list from all of the other papers and turned to Leah. "Is this the order?"

Leah glanced at it and nodded her head. She turned her gaze from the warehouse door and looked down at Sheri's expectant face, making an effort not to let her eyes move further down to the woman's fitted top that accentuated a pair of very nice breasts. Sheri just stared up into Leah's eyes and then smiled. Leah knew that most people thought her blue eyes were rather striking. 

"Um," Leah nervously cleared her throat. "I, uh, I think I was mistaken, so...never mind, sorry for bothering you."

Leah was half way to the warehouse door before Sheri spoke up. "Thank you. Leah."

Leah stopped with her hand on the warehouse door. She didn't turn around. She simply nodded once in an unspoken acknowledgement and then pushed on the door and disappeared into the hot, noisy environment of the warehouse.

****

Jules stopped by her new supervisor's office to formally introduce herself. The Retrieval Team fell under the umbrella of Homeland Security's Logistics Branch, so at least she wouldn't have to move or find new housing since the office was located right here in DC. After wandering around the building for twenty minutes, she finally managed to find the suite of offices her new department operated out of. 

She was actually kind of relieved that her new boss wasn't in, but his administrative assistant had been expecting her. The older woman gave Jules a package containing all kinds of forms that needed to be filled out. After explaining what each form was for and how to complete it, she went on to present Jules with the official file for her first assignment. Of course Hank had already given her a copy of the file, so there was nothing in the original that she hadn't seen before with the exception being a voucher for the use of a government issued vehicle.

Jules asked the assistant about it and was dutifully informed that the logistics for any assignment that fell within 400 travel miles was taken care of by automobile rather than airline. The assistant proceeded to point out that the distance from DC to Charlotte, NC was 396 miles. The older woman instructed her that she could pick up her assigned vehicle from the Logistics Car Pool and if Jules was going to keep to the assignment's schedule, she would need to get on the road within the next two hours.

Jules tried to keep reminding herself that she was being "punished", so she wasn't too surprised when they gave her a set of keys to an older model Crown Victoria. Seriously? She thought they quit making these a couple of years ago. With a shrug, Jules went about adjusting the seat and mirrors and then tried the radio, but it didn't work. Awesome, just what a girl needed for an eight hour road trip. Then as she pulled out of the lot she also found out the air conditioning didn't really work other than blowing warm air in her face. She shrugged and rolled all of the windows down. 

She smiled to herself as she slipped on her sunglasses and the wind began to blow her auburn locks everywhere. Jules paused a moment to consider how in the hell she had even ended up in this situation and instead, ended up savoring the memory of lying on that bar with the crowd cheering as that bride-to-be lowered that gorgeous shaved pussy down onto her waiting mouth. Jules could almost still feel how strongly those former cheerleader thighs had gripped the sides of her head as the girl sat on her face and took the ride of her young life. Had it been worth it? At the time, you bet your ass it had been worth it. Now? Well, Jules would just have to play this one out and see. 

Either way, these vindictive bastards were going to have to do a lot better than sticking her with a crappy car to get Jules Bradford to quit. 

****

Leah slowed down to a jog as she came to the last little stretch of road that in a quarter of a mile led to the employees' parking lot. She continued to slow down until she was half a block away and began walking as part of her cool down. When the weather warmed up she liked to run the almost five miles to work and then she would either run home or take the bus if she was too tired after her shift. When she reached the actual drive of the parking lot, she shrugged off her backpack and bent over with her hands on her knees to get control of her breathing. She had really pushed herself this morning running 4.9 miles in just over 30 minutes. She stood back up and pulled a refillable water bottle out of her bag and drank half of it down in one long drink. 

She walked around for a few minutes with her hands on her hips, stopping to take a sip of water every few minutes until her heart rate was back to normal and she had cooled down enough to head towards the warehouse entrance. As per her normal routine, she would grab a quick shower in the employee locker room before her shift started and then relax for a few minutes with a cup coffee. She had just rounded the corner at the far edge of the parking lot when she saw the same driver from yesterday. 

Leah apparently spotted him well before he intended for her to see him. He actually looked pretty ridiculous as he tried to maintain his somewhat hidden position by the trash compactor. With his chain-wallet and key chain combo jangling from his nervous movements and the way his cowboy boots sc****d against the pavement as he shifted from foot to foot, a toddler would have noticed him from thirty yards out. Leah shook her head. This jackass didn't have the first clue about being still and fading into his environment.

Leah stopped ten feet short of where she thought the driver figured was going to be his element of surprise opportunity. She set her backpack down at her feet and bent over to begin stretching her legs as she patiently waited, taking the occasional sip of her water bottle. It took the driver another sixty seconds before he leaned out to check on her progress and was startled to see her there stretching her hamstrings. 

He scowled to himself as he stepped out into the open, but then a grin broke out on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, ain't you about as quiet as a mouse."

Leah said nothing as she stretched.

"C'mon now, don't be rude," the driver warned her in a friendly - not so friendly way. "It ain't polite not to return a good morning."

"You didn't say good morning," Leah quietly corrected him and took another drink of water.

"Pardon?"

She let out an almost imperceptible sigh before continuing in a clear voice. "You didn't say good morning. You said 'well, ain't you about as quiet as a mouse' to which I chose not to respond. You're attempting to goad me into some half-assed apology for an imagined slight. I'm really not in the mood for whatever little psychological game you're trying to play."

"Look at you then, catching all that like you did," the driver stepped out into the middle of the walkway effectively blocking her way as he gave a low whistle. "I am impressed."

"I literally don't care whether or not you might be impressed," Leah replied evenly. She picked up her backpack and closed the distance between them until she was standing right in front him. The man was only an inch or two taller, but easily outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. "Now please excuse me."

"I believe you and I need to come to an understanding," the driver smiled as he eased forward and rested his beefy hand on top of Leah's shoulder and took a half-step into her personal space.

Leah looked at the hand on her shoulder and fought to keep control of her breathing. "Why are you touching me?"

"Oh, c'mon now darlin', I'm just being --" the larger man began to explain as he took another step closer and started to slip his arm around Leah's shoulders. He suddenly found himself being propelled face first into the side of the trash compactor with his arm pushed painfully up behind his back. He was stunned into silence and his lips were wet with blood from the impact.

"What the hell!" the driver finally managed to roar as he fought to regain his balance and push off of the dumpster. For some reason he couldn't get control of his balance or the arm behind his back. 

"Don't ever put your hands on me again," Leah said quietly into his ear before letting go of his arm and taking a few steps back.

"You crazy bitch!" he wheeled around on her and shook his arm out a few times to try and get his shoulder to stop hurting. "You have no fuckin' idea what you just started."

Leah didn't respond as she just stood there silently looking at him.

He was breathing hard and his face was mottled red. Leah recognized the first physical signs of the adrenaline dumping into his system. The driver clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. "I tried to be reasonable, but --"

"You sure about this?" Leah asked in a calm voice. She didn't give any ground as the driver took another step towards her.

"Oh, I'm damn sure," the driver nodded and spit a stream of blood and spittle at his feet. The man's voice was loud and his hands were shaking. "You wanna act like a man, you're gonna get treated like a damn man!"

"You realize there's no going back, right?" Leah asked him in a steady voice.

"Huh?" the big man pulled up short unsure of what he was hearing. "What's that?"

"Think about it," Leah explained. "You're overly hyped up right now from the adrenaline which is normal. The only thing hurt so far is your pride. No one was here to see this...no one has to know about it. I'm not going to mention it. Are you?"

"Nah, too late for that," he growled and took another step towards her. "You fuckin' cunt,"

"Whatever," Leah shrugged. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

"What?" He pulled up short again almost stumbling from his momentum. "You? Youare warning me?"

"I'm giving you a chance here," Leah eased her feet a little wider apart and let her arms hang down loosely in front of her body. "This isn't some beef at your local bar or some truck stop bullshit. I can guarantee this isn't going to go like you planned."

"Are you listening to yourself?" he demanded, trying to make it sound as ridiculous to her as it did to him. "What are you gonna do? Huh? You gonna whup my ass?"

"No, I'm not gonna whup your ass," Leah shook her head and kept her voice calm and steady. "I'm going to put you in the fucking hospital."

"The hospital?"

Leah shrugged one shoulder and gave a single nod of her head.

"You really think so, do you?"

"Nope," Leah shook her head. "I know it for a fact."

"Bull-fucking-shit," the scowl on the driver's face grew even deeper and his nostrils flared. "Bitch, I'll put my fuckin' hands on you like you ain't--"

"Do you honestly think I haven't dealt with guys like you before?" Leah raised her voice to interrupt him with just the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Do you really think this is a first for me? I'm trying to be nice here because you think you know what road you're about to go down. Trust me - you don't."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Leah nodded. "But I really don't want this. That's why I'm asking you to just walk away."

The heavyset driver grinned at her like she was making a joke, but then his grin faded and his expression slowly morphed into one of suspicion. He looked around as he rubbed his jaw and considered what this gash was saying. She has to be trying to run some kind of game. Yeah, she's just bluffing, stalling for time. Isn't she? Fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? It's her word against his. She's just some dock chick for crying out loud. He's worked for this company for f******n years.

"Just let it go," Leah looked hard into his eyes, "and walk away."

"Shit," he suddenly smiled, becoming the all-too-friendly good ol' boy. "I was just foolin' around anyways. You know, just givin' you a hard time." 

Leah didn't move or say anything.

"C'mon now," the man smiled and extended his arm towards her. "No hard feelings?"

Leah looked at the offered hand. She looked back up into the man's eyes and then slowly brought her hand up as if to shake even though she knew what would happen next.

The driver telegraphed his sucker punch from what felt like a mile away.

****

Leah had just finished pulling the last part number and was stacking the box neatly on the pallet to complete her first order of the day when she caught movement over by the first dock door, the one with the walk-up ramp. It was used for customers who came to the warehouse to pick up their orders rather than have them delivered. Leah took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she watched from the corner of her eye as two police officers paused at the top of the ramp and then walked over and began talking to the warehouse manager. Her supervisor went from inquisitively friendly to frowning and crossing his arms and then he became animated and began shaking his head and gesturing in Leah's direction. 

Leah sighed again. She knew that a couple of the driver's buddies had found him u*********s and bleeding. They thought he had either fallen off the dock or been run over. She had sipped on her coffee and watched everyone run around in a panic until the dispatcher had finally ended up taking the injured man to the hospital. Leah knew it was only a matter of time before the driver eventually regained consciousness and started running his mouth. 

Leah laid her paperwork with all of the part numbers neatly checked off on top of the sk** so that whoever the warehouse manager chose to take over her assignment would know the order was complete. She picked up her long sleeved t-shirt and slipped it on and then grabbed her backpack which she had kept with her rather than putting it in her locker since she already knew this was going to happen at some point this morning. She paused to take a final look around the warehouse. This wasn't her first job nor would it be her last, but she had actually liked it here. 

The other workers had started to come out from the aisles and shelves of inventory to gawk and whisper among themselves. What a day, first the u*********s driver and now this? Having the cops show up was not an everyday occurrence. Their whispers grew quieter as they watched Leah gather up her things and walk slowly over to the where the warehouse manager and the police officers were still talking. They all wondered what the heck was going on and by this time word had spread to the front office so now the billing clerks and schedulers had started gathering outside of the door to the office watching and whispering as well. 

They continued to observe as Leah approached the little huddle. The warehouse manager paused when he noticed Leah and went through the process of introducing her to the police officers. The cops focused all of their attention on her as they took turns asking her questions. Leah said a few things and nodded a few times and then handed over her backpack to the male cop. She turned around as the female police officer pulled out her handcuffs and began the process of pulling Leah's arms behind her back and cuffing her wrists together. 

Leah looked over at the entrance to the office as the cop went through the process of reciting her Miranda rights. She saw the woman named Sheri standing off to the side of the other office workers. She wasn't participating in all of the whispering, she just stood there looking at Leah with real concern in her eyes. Leah just gave her a little half-smile and the slightest shrug of her shoulders as if to say "shit happens."

As they escorted Leah back down the ramp towards their cruiser, she took a little bit of comfort in knowing that the asshole driver wouldn't be bothering Sheri again for a long, long time. 

****

Jules rolled over with a small groan at the incessant beeping of what she thought was the alarm on her phone and tried to pry her swollen eyelids open. She blindly felt around until she apparently hit the right button to silence the offending technology. She groaned a second time as she rolled back over and the first wave of pain indicating another wicked hangover began to settle over her head and stomach. She fought the feeling of nausea that seemed to be one of her constant companions in the morning these days. She winced as she gently nestled her head deeper into the hotel room pillow in search of that magical cool spot that would alleviate the throbbing in her head. 

Okay, Jules reasoned with herself...So maybe it is time to cut down on the drinking a little bit. You think? The little voice in her head responded sarcastically. You act like you can just pick up a new liver at Walmart.

Whatever, Jules mentally responded to the little voice. It's not like I'm an alcoholic or anything. Tell you what, the little voice countered. I'll bet you a week of sobriety, and that means absolutely no liquor in any form, that you don't even remember her name. 

What the fuck? Jules eyes shot open as her senses cleared a bit more and she felt the unmistakable soft roundness of an ass cheek pressing against her hip. She gingerly turned her head to look at the little tangle of brunette curls that were peeking out from beneath the comforter on the pillow next to her. 

She racked her brain trying to remember what all had transpired last night. The only thing she could pull out of those murky depths of tequila soaked memories was something about a bartender. As Jules tried to piece together the details of last night's activities, she more out of habit than anything else reached down and rested her palm on the plump ass cheek. This apparently was enough to awaken the b**st as the body next to her stirred and then rolled over and turned into her. 

"Morning, Jules," a sleepy smile appeared through the jungle of unruly bedhead and what was meant to be an affectionate gesture had Jules seriously fighting not to throw up right then and there. That simple greeting had blown a cloud of foul, alcohol tinged morning breath right into Jules's face. 

Jules held her breath and mumbled good morning as she discreetly turned her head. The brunette smiled and took this as an invitation as she leaned over a little further and feathered kisses along Jules's neck. Jules kept her head turned to the side in case her bedmate moved up for a kiss, but her tension eased a little as the woman continued kissing down to her collarbone and then teased wet kisses all around the tops of her large breasts. Jules sighed as the brunette kept on kissing and licking her way down Jules's stomach until her trail of kisses brought her to the inside of Jules's thigh. 

Jules started to actually relax and leaned further back onto the pillows of the hotel bed as the brunette stuck out her tongue and traced it along the crease of Jules's groin next to her pussy where her upper leg ended and her torso began. Okay, so this wasn't so bad, Jules thought and let out a soft sigh as the woman continued licking her way over until she was running that long, soft tongue up and down Jules's labia. When that tongue moved in and parted Jules's slit to take a long lick of her now swollen inner folds, Jules closed her eyes with a murmured moan and her hangover was suddenly not so bad.

The brunette had just moved up to let her tongue gently touch Jules's clit when Jules's cell phone began beeping and vibrating again. The rhythm of the beeping made her realize in a panic that it was the ringer not her alarm. She struggled to reach the phone and push the eager head away from her pussy at the same time until she finally managed to grab it off the night stand and answer it. 

"Hello?" she replied breathlessly.

"Code in." A professional sounding voice greeted her bluntly. 

"Excuse me?"

"Code in, please."

"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she closed her eyes and tried to remember her employee assigned pin number for this assignment. It took her a few seconds, but it finally came to her and she rattled off the correct series of digits and numbers and then had to repeat herself more clearly. 

"Hold one," the voice announced as it verified her information. The brunette bartender had sat up when they were interrupted and now ventured closer as Jules waited on hold. She leaned over and started flicking her tongue back and forth across Jules's now erect nipple. Jules closed her eyes to enjoy the pleasant sensation radiating from her breast and then was pulled back into reality by the suddenly too loud voice of a professional sounding male in her ear. 

"We have an update to your assignment, Bradford." The man announced and proceeded to fill her in on the current status and location of one Leah Hartsall. The man then started to repeat himself and Jules struggled to focus through the fog of her headache and her bedmate's effort on her tit that at this point was becoming more annoying than arousing. Jules rudely pushed the woman's head away again as she moved her lips silently, repeating the information back to herself to commit it to memory. 

"Okay, thank you," Jules replied into her phone but the call had already been disconnected. Jules put her phone back on the side table and then looked over at the woman next to her. The brunette was now sitting up with her knees drawn up to her chest and was staring out the window through the little part in the curtains, her feelings obviously hurt. Jules took a deep breath. "Hey, sorry about that...it was work and kind of important."

"Whatever, its fine," the brunette sniffled and proceeded to wipe her nose on the sheet. "I understand."

Jules cringed a little, but then reminded herself she'd be checking out shortly anyways. These sheets were housekeeping's problem now. She reached out a hand to affectionately stroke the tanned skin on the part of the woman's lower back that wasn't covered by the sheet. A name suddenly floated across Jules's brain and she mentally stuck her tongue out at the little voice in her head. "Come here...Anna...let me make it up to you."

The brunette abruptly stood up and Jules's breath caught as she got her first really unobstructed view of her bedmate. Wow. This girl was hot. She had long, toned legs that flared into wide hips and an almost perfect upside down heart-shaped ass. Jules could also see as the woman bent over to look under the bed that her breasts weren't huge but looked quite nice and perky with long nipples sticking out proudly. Mmmm, but those legs and that ass...very nice, Jules thought. She also really liked the all over tan and that mop of long, curly black hair. Jules's overall impression was this woman seemed just built to fuck. No wonder she had ended up in bed with her last night.

Jules could feel her pussy start to tingle as the remnants of her hangover officially moved into the background. She smiled and lowered the sheet to expose her ample chest. The smile on Jules's face faltered as the woman straightened back up with an armful of her clothes and headed towards the hotel room door without bothering to get dressed.

"My name is Sonya, not Anna," she practically hissed before slamming the door. From out in the hallway Jules could hear the brunette yell, "Asshole!" 

Uh-huh...the little voice in her head reminded her. So that would be seven alcohol-free days starting right about now then?

****

After two hours of flashing her Homeland Security credentials and showing the Federal subpoena to enough people, Jules was finally allowed to escort Leah Hartsall out of the containment area of the police station. Getting through enough bureaucratic red-tape bullshit to drown in had done nothing to ease her aching head. They made one final stop by the sergeant's desk so Jules could sign off on some final forms stating that she was now fully responsible for Leah Hartsall and transporting her to the Senate building in the District of Columbia, blah, blah, blah...She had her copies of everything and would read them later. Right now, she just wanted to get back on the road and be done with this whole trip.

Jules stole some glances at her charge as they walked down the final corridor towards the lobby of the police station. The first thing Jules had noticed when Leah Hartsall was sitting on that concrete bench in the holding cell was the woman's eyes. They were such a vivid blue color that it was almost unnerving. That and the woman had a nice looking face. Even with no make-up, she was very, very pretty. But now that they were walking side by side, this person was actually quite intimidating close up. She was tall, taller than Jules by at least 4 or 5 inches. The woman's baggy, wrinkled t-shirt didn't do a whole lot to hide the fact that she was also really well built like on the verge of professional athlete level built. Jules hadn't met many women with shoulders as broad as Leah's or whose arms looked that strong even when they were cuffed in front of her. Damn, so far this chick's physical presence was living right up to the scary stereotype that had been in Jules's head from the moment she had read Leah Hartsall's file. 

Jules held the front entrance open so Leah could step outside ahead of her. The tall blonde paused a moment to squint against the bright sun and held her manacled hands up for some relief. Jules followed her out and after putting on her sunglasses just kind of stood there watching Leah, not really sure what she was supposed to say. Jules noticed that Leah's eyes were never still, constantly moving all around their surroundings as if she was taking everything in. Jules politely stepped aside as a couple of uniformed officers passed them by and started digging around in her purse looking for the keys to her government issued shit-mobile. Leah put her hands in front of Jules's face and rattled the handcuffs.

"Would you mind taking these off, please?"

"Why should I?" Jules tried to sound tough in effort to take control of the situation. 

Leah sighed and shrugged. "How about because they're uncomfortable?" 

"We'll see once we're on the road," Jules snapped as she finally produced the keychain from her bag. Her head moved around as she tried to remember where she had parked. 

"What's the big deal?" Leah asked as they walked down the steps. "Are you trying to prove a point?"

"I don't have anything to prove to you," Jules informed her as she tried to remember if she had approached the police station from the left or right. She had been distracted and the only thing she could remember was how ridiculously far she had had to walk to get to the main entrance. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked left and then looked right.

"Don't worry," Leah quietly chuckled as she misinterpreted Jules motions. "They're still here."

"What?" Jules stopped and looked at her. "Who's still here?"

"You're team," Leah rolled her eyes at the Fed's innocent act. "Matter of fact, you might want to tell them not to be so obvious next time."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jules was now suspicious that this woman was trying to set her up and divert her attention somehow.

"Just stop," Leah shook her head. "The whole naïve, inexperienced thing is getting old. Trust me, I've seen them all done before, more times than you can imagine. You weren't half bad up until we stepped outside and your boys practically tripped over us."

"What?" Jules was trying to decipher what this woman was saying and none of it was making any sense. "Are you trying to set me up or something?"

"Seriously," Leah acted like she was growing annoyed now. "Just stop, okay? You can turn it off now."

"Listen up," Jules reached into her purse and put her hand on the grip of her weapon. "I don't understand what you're saying and I don't like it. You're starting to make me nervous."

"Hey, take it easy," Leah knew exactly what Jules was doing and held her manacled hands up in front of her in a gesture of submission to placate the Fed. "Not a big deal, okay? I was just making an observation."

"Well, I don't like it," Jules voice had gone to a slightly higher pitch and for a second she tightened her grip on her standard issue Sig Sauer P229. It didn't matter that Jules had never fired it outside of the Academy shooting range. Or that she literally had to dig around in her closet for over forty-five minutes to even find it before this trip. For some reason, it made her feel just a bit more secure right now. "Explain yourself."

"Okay," Leah still held her hands out in a non-threatening gesture. She had quickly picked up on the fact that the Fed's anxiety and uncertainty were genuine. "Just take it easy, alright? I was mistaken, no big deal."

"Mistaken about what?" Jules's voice was still tense, but her posture relaxed a bit. "What are you talking about?"

"I just noticed your support team seemed a little closer than they probably should have been," Leah's voice was calm and soothing and she let her hands fall back to rest in front of her. "Not a big deal. I'm just used to a more covert approach, that's all."

Jules frowned and looked around as if she would be able to know what in the world Leah might be referencing. She actually surprised herself when she noticed the blacked out Chevy Suburban sitting half a block away. Was that what this woman was talking about? She could just make out the silhouette of the driver, but that was about it. "Are you talking about that Chevy?"

"Yeah," Leah smiled to herself. Could this Fed be any more obvious? "That's the one."

Jules stood and stared at the vehicle. The more she looked at it the more she began to realize that this scary woman was sort of right. It really didn't fit in among all these other civilian cars and trucks. The Suburban suddenly pulled out with a squeal of tires, hung a quick U-turn and accelerated rapidly in the opposite direction of the station. Okay, that was weird.

"Subtle." Leah looked in the direction of the retreating SUV. 

"You're mistaken," Jules looked at her with a scowl. "I don't have any back-up."

Leah turned and looked back in the direction the Chevy had gone. "Not anymore."

"That's not what I meant," Jules slowly blinked and pursed her lips. "I just got transferred to this job. There is no back-up. We work alone on these assignments."

"Maybe that's what you were told," Leah shrugged. "Maybe you just don't know you have babysitters."

"No," Jules shook her head and suddenly remembered where she parked. She took a couple of steps down the sidewalk that ran in front of the station and then turned right down another sidewalk towards the back parking lot. She stopped and turned around and waited for Leah Hartsall to follow her. "That's not the...that doesn't fit my current situation."

"Okay, whatever," Leah shrugged again, but her situational awareness was now on high alert as she kept casually swiveling her head to keep an eye on traffic and the nearby pedestrians. She was now pretty well convinced that it wasn't an act as everything about this Fed told Leah the woman was inexperienced. 

They followed the walkway that ran beside the station to the rear parking lot and Jules raised her hand up to point it at the Crown Victoria to unlock it with the remote fob. Most of these older models didn't have that feature, but this one had been retro-fitted. The headlights seemed to blink a couple of more times than they normally did and the security chirp sounded funny.

"Down!" Leah growled and as soon as she said it Jules felt herself being tackled to the pavement from behind. She felt a sharp pain near her elbow and then in her hip which took the brunt of the fall, but Jules was more concerned with getting to her purse to make sure this woman didn't get to her service weapon. Jules struggled to wriggle away from Leah's body, but the woman stayed on top of Jules without much effort and shielded her with those muscular arms. 

"Get the hell off --," Jules was trying to say when she felt the heat and managed to look up. It wasn't like the movies where the car went up in a huge explosion. There actually hadn't been any real noise at all other than a kind of hushed whooshing sound. She couldn't do anything but stare as both the driver and passenger sides of her Crown Vic were engulfed in flames. Was this real? How could this be real? The fire was consuming the interior of the vehicle. 

"What is that?" Jules was stunned and went kind of limp as she stared. "That's...That's my car."

Leah's weight was suddenly off of her and then she was dragging Jules to a standing position by grabbing her under her arms. Of all the incomprehensible details she was trying to take in, of all the overwhelming stimuli around her that was so utterly foreign and out of her comfort zone, the fact that the woman was no longer handcuffed caught Jules's attention first. 

"Where..." She looked at Leah dumbfounded as the woman started to pull her in the opposite direction of the burning car. "Where are your handcuffs?" 

"Here," Leah stuffed the handcuffs into Jules's palm as she kept walking and dragged the Fed with her by the arm. The woman acted very calm, but also moved very purposefully as she led Jules back towards the front of the police station but suddenly took a short cut across another adjacent parking lot and then cut through a small park area with grass and trees until before Jules realized what was happening, they were stopped in a crowded little alcove type of an alley at least a full block from the police station. 

Jules looked around at the dumpsters and recycle bins. "That was...what was that?"

"Someone rigged your car."

"They...what?" Jules couldn't understand what this Leah Hartsell person was saying. "Rigged my car? How? Why? Are you sure that wasn't some kind of leak or something?"

"Uh, no," Leah smirked. "That was very intentional."

"It was? I guess...wait, if it was intentional, wouldn't there have been I don't know...a boom or something?" Jules asked suspiciously, but jumped when a loud, muffled whump shook the dumpsters and the nearby trees. Plumes of thick black smoke appeared in the sky coming from the direction of the parking lot they had just left.

"Fuel tank," Leah explained as she looked around the corner from their little hideout. 

All this excitement was overwhelming and caused Jules's hands to shake and she suddenly felt really dizzy so she bent over and tried to take deep breaths. When she stood up she began to say, "We have to go back--"

Leah Hartsall was gone.

"Oh no...no, no, no," Jules began to mutter rapidly under her breath as she quickly walked to the corner of the little alley. Jules came to an abrupt halt as she almost ran face first into her assignment. Leah's hand planted solidly on her chest had prevented the collision. 

"Calm down," Leah advised and guided the Fed gently back into the alcove by the dumpsters. "Coming down off adrenaline can be bitch, so just keep breathing...nice and easy."

"Okay," Jules said shakily. She could hear the wail of sirens off in the distance but they were getting louder.

Leah turned her head so she could continue to watch the street, but paused to check on the Fed for a moment and seemed almost embarrassed as she quickly took her hand off of the redhead's upper chest. Jules hadn't noticed where Leah's hand was either, but the tall blonde's obvious embarrassment actually made her smile a little despite their circumstances. 

Jules smile quickly faded and she looked nervously up at the taller woman. "I thought you left me."

"I know," Leah nodded once as she continued to watch the traffic on the street warily. She turned to look at Jules in all seriousness, those blue eyes seemingly even brighter. "But just so you know - I would never do that."

"I..." Jules started to say automatically but as she looked deeper into the woman's eyes, she completely believed her. "Thank you." 

Leah continued to stare at the Fed for another couple of seconds and then gave her that little half-smile before turning back around to watch the street. They needed to get out of this part of town so Leah could think and come up with a plan. Jules just stood there, her mind blank. She knew she should be doing something, but couldn't seem to think clearly as she kept glancing over in the direction of the police station. That part of the skyline above the little stand of trees was dark with smoke.

"Come on," Leah reached her hand out behind her and held it open for the Fed to take. "We need to keep moving."

Jules hesitated as she stared at the open hand. This was a mistake...possibly the worst mistake of her life. She was in enough trouble as it was and she knew that by taking this woman's hand it would be going against every rule and protocol she was supposed to follow. Jules should have been the one taking charge, leading the way and giving directions. This was supposed to be her job, but she could honestly say that she was scared to death right now...and for some odd reason that she really couldn't explain, she trusted this woman. 

She put her hand in Leah's and they started walking. 

****

It seemed to Jules like Leah dragged her all over the Queen City as they walked down backstreets, cut through the lobbies of various buildings and parking decks, backtracked, zig-zagged and moved in a random pattern for what felt like hours. The only time they stopped was when Jules suggested she should probably call into her office back in DC. That was when Leah had demanded her cell phone. After she took the battery out of it and the sim card, she handed it back to Jules and they started walking again. After another few blocks, Jules finally spoke up that her feet were out and out killing her and she had to rest. Without a word, Leah guided her for another half a block to some kind of retro diner that looked like it was straight out of the 1950's. 

Leah got them situated in a booth and then starting asking questions. At first Jules was reluctant to be honest, but thinking about the way her car had burned made her finally just start from the beginning and tell this abnormally calm woman with short blonde hair everything. Jules even included a few details about the bride-to-be and the bartender even though they weren't really relevant to their current situation. She wasn't sure why she felt she needed to share that part of the story. It wasn't appropriate, but maybe she did it to gauge the reaction of the woman sitting across from her. 

Leah didn't seem phased by it. She sat and listened with the same neutral expression. She asked a few questions every so often so she could clarify some detail or another, but for the most part she just listened intently. When Jules's story finally ended at the police station, Leah was hav