“So Miss Ellington, I gather you are on this train for leisure? Did anyone approach you since you left New York to carry anything for them, no matter how insignificant?
“How do you know I live in New York?” My heart sped up, and tension straightened my spine as his question ignited my full attention.
Leaning over, he whispered with a conspiratorial tone and a fake smile, “It’s part of my job to gather as much information as possible while working on missions, especially if there’s a risk of a security breach or possible terrorist attack. Just a little while ago I received basic information concerning every passenger on this train.”
“Okay, but what does this all have to do with me? I received no illicit package to take along my journey.”
“I’m afraid I have bad news and proof to the contrary, Miss Ellington,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if it should be obvious. “You are under scrutiny for involvement as an accessory with terrorists, whether or not you are a willing participant. In simple words, you were at the right time and the right place in all appearances.”
His words acted as a blow and I pushed back in my seat, instantly putting additional distance between us. The tension at the back of my neck and the goosebumps on my arms alerted me that as much as I would have liked to, I couldn’t dismiss what he told me, no matter how unreal it sounded. But past the initial sting of surprise, his insinuation outraged me and I was about to protest, but he lifted his hand as a peace offering.
“You need not worry; nobody is accusing you of anything yet.”
I expected a more subtle approach before he threw that kind of allegation at me. On the other hand, I’ll admit that I was intrigued to see where he was going with this approach. Readjusting my position on my seat, I donned my invisible armor and prepared for whatever was coming next.
“I have received the footage from the Victoria Station security cameras this morning, and willing or not, there is a chance someone planted a piece of equipment used for bombing on you or your luggage.”
He took out his cell phone and turned it on. This is not how I expected this cocktail hour to play out. Of course, the man was sexy as hell, but to be put on the spot like this was more than disconcerting. He leaned a couple of inches closer and held his muted iPhone to show me the security footage. Frozen in myseat, I remained speechless since he had piqued my curiosity to Defcon 1.