Excerpt of Charmed and Dangerous by Kelsey Roberts

"I don't need a baby-sitter, due respect, sir. I am fully capable of taking care of myself." J.J. Barnes was not happy, and she made sure her narrowed glare made that point. The barely healed scar on her right side itched and pulled. Maybe tomorrow she could compartmentalize and put the incident behind her once and for all.

Calmly seated behind his desk, FBI Associate Director Terrance "Red" Andrews didn't seem impressed by her rhetoric. In fact, his white brows arched caution-ingly in response to her tone.

J.J. immediately adjusted her attitude. Outwardly, at least. Inside, her stomach churned as waves of queasiness rocked through her. She covered by leaning forward to grip the back of the burgundy leather chair as if to argue the point.

"You've been reinstated to full duty, Agent Barnes. But that doesn't solve the immediate problem." He peered up at her over the rims of his half-glasses, his blue eyes stern and unyielding. "I would assume that after the Visnopov debacle, you'd be more...circumspect."

"I am, sir," she assured him. "Two weeks in the hospital and a month recuperating at home gave me plenty of time to analyze my actions. I realize now that I should have arranged for backup prior to the meeting."

"It wasn't a meeting, Agent Barnes. It was a beating. The government has invested a great deal of time and money in this investigation. We'd like you to stay alive until the U.S. Attorney gets in front of a grand jury. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Andrews shuffled papers around on his cluttered desk until he found a thin folder and held it out for her.

"You will accept a protective detail."

"But, sir —"

He lifted a finger, silencing her immediately. He smiled, his expression somewhere between grudging respect and utter exasperation. "Sit, Barnes."

She readily followed the order. She was still sore from the surgery. She didn't know much about having a spleen removed, but she guessed the fatigue that just refused to go away no matter how many hours she slept was a side effect. J.J. prided herself on her fitness. She was the reigning female record holder on the obstacle course and now she was having trouble making it through the day without a nap.

She took the folder, but she didn't open it immediately. It was accepted practice to wait for a superior's go-ahead before diving into anything. If she'd followed that procedure, maybe Visnopov's goons wouldn't have —

"I know you, Barnes," he said, raking his stubby fingers through his thick shock of white hair. "I knew you'd balk at the idea of protection, so I came up with an incentive for you."

Her mood brightened slightly. "Sir?"

Nodding, he pointed at the folder. "We've lost three critical Visnopov witnesses so far," he began as she perused color photos of the victims. "You were almost the fourth."

J.J. wasn't sure how to react. She could have argued that the three witnesses killed thus far weren't her fault. Her cover was blown the minute the first member of Visnopov's crew was arrested. It would have been nice if the U.S. Attorney coordinated the arrest with the bureau. Given her a heads-up. But arguing — in Andrews's eyes — conveyed a complete lack of personal responsibility and she wasn't about to give him any more reasons to question her abilities.

"The Visnopovs are going to come after you again." A frisson of dread slid down her spine. She straightened her back and kept her gaze steady with effort. "I assumed as much."

"The Marshal's Service will handle the particulars." A groan escaped her lips before she could prevent it. J.J. hoped Andrews hadn't noticed it as she flipped to the next photo, her interest instantly piqued. This wasn't a picture of a criminal or a victim. This was an official head shot of a U.S. marshal. Turning to the back of the photograph, she read the particulars. Denise Howard, fifty- one, twenty-five years with the Service. "She's my protective detail?"

"Not exactly," Andrews said as she continued to examine the file.

Martin Newell, forty-nine. Lara Selznick, twenty-six, who looked more like a college coed than a federal agent. The last picture made J.J."s heart skip. He was as handsome as she remembered. "But..." She glanced up atAndrews and said, "I don't follow, sir. These people are —"

"Suspects in the murder ofAlex Maslonovic,"Andrews explained. "We have every reason to believe that someone inside the U.S. marshal's office is a mole.Your assignment is to find out which one of them is responsible."

"I'M SUPPOSED TO TRY to get her killed, too?" Cody Landry didn't bother to mask his sarcasm. Partly because he'd known the field director long enough to speak freely and partly because he was really, seriously pissed.

He stared across the table, meeting the other man's calm, even expression. As always, George Avery was immune to Cody's temper. "Nobody's supposed to get killed. Besides, it isn't like she's a civilian," George pointed out. "She's a highly trained federal agent."

Cody knew all about J.J. Barnes. She was one of those women who sometimes crossed the line between being assertive and being a bitch. They'd been at Quantico together for a three-month course, and J.J. had done everything in her power to prove she was equal, or better, than any man there. He felt a smile twitch his lips. The only problem was that no one — male or female — could ever mistake J.J. for anything other than a woman. She had a sensuality that couldn't be hidden by any amount of attitude. In a word, she was hot, and she'd shot him down at every turn. "She's very...competent," Cody allowed.

His cautious tone elicited a smirk from George. "I've seen her file. She's gorgeous."

"If you like 'em tall, blond and leggy."

George laughed aloud. "As I recall, you do."

Cody sighed before taking a pull from his bottle of beer. Why did it have to be her? "You do remember I'm scheduled for a thirty-day leave, right?"

George nodded. "I was hoping you'd postpone. This is important, Cody. The A.G. told the FBI. Then someone in the FBI blew her cover and nearly got her killed. This ruse is the only way the feebs think they can flush out the leak."

"Since when is it our responsibility to clean their house?"

"Since blowing her cover cost us three protectees. Like it or not — and I don't — we're in this together and dangling J.J. Barnes out on a limb is our best chance at finding the leak and making sure the rest of the witnesses live long enough to testify against Visnopov and his crew."

J.J."s face loomed in Cody's mind's eye. "She's very smart, George. I'm guessing it will take her about a minute to figure out that she's being used."

"Her boss says different," George insisted. "He concocted some story about her investigating us."

"I'm not your guy for this," Cody argued, finishing his beer as he started to rise. "I'm going home. I've got four nieces and nephews I haven't met yet and another brother is getting married. I'm not missing another family event."

"We can work around that," George insisted. "You can take J.J. and the team with you."

Cody froze. "You want me to take a woman with a target painted on her forehead around my family? I'll pass, thanks."

George stood so quickly that his chair tilted backward before crashing against the bar's scuffed wooden floor. Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, he produced a rumpled sheet of paper. "I've arranged for a safe house outside of Jasper. It's perfect, Cody. You can kill two birds with one stone."

Cody rolled his eyes at the inappropriate choice of words. "I'm taking my time off, George." He slapped a couple of bills on the table. "I've earned it, requisitioned it, filled out all the forms in triplicate and, by God, I'm taking it." He gave his boss and friend a pointed look and said flatly, "Alone," before he turned and headed for the door.

He knew Avery would follow him even without a backward glance. Grabbing his jacket from its hook, he shoved open the wooden front door and allowed the crisp November air to hit his face. His SUV was parked beneath the lone flickering street lamp near the back of the parking lot.

He listened to the chorus of city sounds coming across the Potomac. The buzz of traffic and shrill horns emanating from an unending ribbon of headlights only solidified his determination. He needed out of D.C. for a while. Needed to see the stars and hear the quiet waiting for him in Montana. He was a fish out of water in the east. No, not just the east — in a city, surrounded by throngs of people and...things. It seemed as if every square inch of land was occupied in some fashion. Even vacant lots were fenced, and the fences used as bulletin boards. The air smelled of exhaust and the briny polluted river that edged the nation's capitol.

Yanking open his car, Cody instantly spied the envelope on the driver's seat. He knew what it was.

George arrived a few seconds later, huffing out labored breaths that condensed into temporary clouds. "Your flight leaves in the morning. She'll be waiting for you in Helena along with your team."

On principle, Cody refused to open the envelope. "I said no, George. Doesn't that matter?"

"Not so much," he replied, placing a hand on Cody's shoulder and giving a squeeze. "You can either have a working vacation or no vacation at all."

Annoyed, Cody tossed the envelope onto the passenger's seat. "Thanks, that's kind of like asking me to pick my favorite Menendez brother."

George's hand lingered, then fell away as Cody locked his gaze on him. At least his boss tried to look apologetic.

"I know this is a tough break, Cody. But it's necessary. The Visnopov case is a top priority."

"I get that," Cody snapped, also knowing full well that his sense of duty was about to rear its ugly head.

"Drugs, money laundering, prostitution, guns, numbers, extortion — they're a one-stop shopping crime empire," George continued. "We need all the remaining witnesses alive if the U.S. Attorney has a hope of getting convictions. That includes J.J. Barnes. She gathered a lot of information during her two years undercover and they know it, thanks to the leak. They need her dead and they've got inside help."

Shrugging away from George, Cody slipped inside the car. "I should quit, George."

"But you won't."

"But I should. I definitely should."