“Ah, shit.” He came around the bed, into my field of view. “I need to move, to get some air,” he said again. “Do you want to come with me?”
Confused, I stammered, “I don’t want to get in your way.” Was he walking out on me or not? Who had that been on the phone? I didn’t know what the hell was going on.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gave me a quick hug. “You won’t be. I’m not running out on you. You may as well come. I need to think.”
I dressed quickly, my gaze on the floor. Ashamed even of my embarrassment, I didn’t turn my back, although I wanted to. When I’d pulled my shoes on, I looked up and met Jamie’s eyes.
He nodded, and led the way out of the room, holding the door for me. I followed him through the hotel to a theoretically traditional Japanese garden. It was subtly lit and lay fairly quiet in the middle of the night, with most people asleep, gambling or drinking. We were not completely alone—a security guard hovered near the entrance and a few other people wandered within.
My feet crunched on the white gravel, and I trailed along behind Jamie until we came to a halt at the edge of a pond.
“Koi,” he said, pointing at the golden fish swimming in the depths beneath the waterfall.
I took a seat on a nearby stone bench, and waited to see if he was going to talk to me.
“So,” he said, staring into the water. “That phone call.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, trying to be neutral.
“That was my boss. She wants me to go back to DC immediately.”
“Why?”
Jamie lifted his shoulders, halfway between a wriggle and a shrug. “That doesn’t matter, for now. Let’s say I’m not exactly in the good books with her.”
He downplayed the situation, but it had been enough to interrupt what we’d been doing, so that meant it had to be something pretty major. My limited patience was running out.
“Are you leaving or what?” I asked, my words dropping like stones into the peace of the garden.
He looked up and our eyes met. His aura churned, the darkness streaked with colors, and I knew he was keeping something from me. “I don’t want to go because I’ve been ordered to, but like we talked about earlier, we’re basically out of leads here.”
He sat beside me and took my hand in both of his. My fingers were stiff between his palms.
I wished I could get inside his head. “Do you think Eric’s still somewhere near here?”
“I’ve got no feeling about it one way or the other.”
I sighed. Jamie’s fingers tightened on mine.
“What’s up, Cat?” he said, watching me closely, his eyes on my mouth, his face serious. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t want to give up yet. I’m sure we can learn more here.”
“What did you have in mind?”
I pulled my hand free, stood, and walked over to the pond. The fish swam in lazy circles, chasing their own tails. “Justine left, and we don’t know where Eric is. I wonder what Ryder will think when we turn and go to DC? Assuming he follows us, of course.”
Jamie watched me, his eyes hidden in the dark garden.
“Why don’t we turn it around? We could follow Ryder. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
“You’re a genius.” He stood, came over, and gave me a quick hug. I held myself stiff, reluctant to soften to him again.
“I’ll call him,” I said. “Arrange to meet him somewhere. We can follow him from there.”
Jamie stepped back, looked into my face. “We don’t have his number.”
I shrugged, feeling guilty. But why should I? It wasn’t like Jamie had told me the whole truth about anything. “He gave it to me earlier.”
He didn’t comment on it, but he narrowed his eyes. “What are you going to tell him when you meet him?”
“I don’t know. Might be better if I stand him up.” My mind was tired, and getting fuzzy. “Look, we can work on a plan in the morning. I want to sleep.”
We returned to the room. There was a faint scent of musk in the air, and an answering twinge from my hormones. I excused myself to the bathroom to clean my teeth and ended up staring myself down in the mirror. This whole day had been insane. I didn’t know whether to go jump Jamie’s bones or run from him.
I rinsed my toothbrush and went out to the bedroom, where I took off my jeans and lay them aside. Jamie was over by the window, staring at the Strip, so I climbed into bed, shut my eyes and began the long journey down into sleep.
The mattress dipped as he got into bed, and then the light clicked off.
A warm body moved close to mine, not touching but very much there.
“I’m sorry we were interrupted before,” he breathed in my ear.
“Okay,” I mumbled, and curled myself up tighter. The heat between my legs rose again, aching, but I wanted to cry. I felt itchy, irritable and pissed off. Why did that stupid phone have to ring and why did he have to answer it?
Jamie tucked himself around me, his warmth surrounding me in my tight little ball of misery. I didn’t have the strength to fight how good it felt.
“Good night,” he said.
In the morning I woke before him, showered, dressed and took myself to the elevator lobby to make the call.
The clipped voice on the phone said, “Ryder here.”
“Can we talk?”
“Catrina.” He sounded surprised. “Yes. When? Where?”
I thought, fast. “I don’t know my way around.”
He suggested a coffee bar in one of the other big casinos, and I agreed to meet him there in an hour, and then hung up. My hand shook as I put my phone back in my pocket.
When I came back in, Jamie was in the shower. He emerged fully clothed, and in the light of day, I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad about that.
I filled him in and we headed out on foot to the coffee bar.
“Would have been better if it were somewhere we could drive to,” Jamie grumbled. “Why on earth did you let him choose the location for the meet?”
“You could have made the arrangements,” I pointed out. “I’m not used to all this espionage.”
“Hmmph,” he said. “Better you than me talking to him.”
We found a spot among the slots, relatively close to the coffee bar. Ryder walked in at the appointed hour. He went into the bar and I couldn’t see him anymore.
“I hope there’s not a back exit,” Jamie said darkly.
After twenty minutes, Ryder reappeared at the entrance, and looked around, checking an expensive-looking watch. I ducked down behind a machine and waited.
“He’s still there,” Jamie reported, taking a peek. “No, he’s headed back into the bar.”
“How about I send him a text or something,” I said. “Otherwise we could wait here all day.”
“And now he’s leaving,” Jamie said. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and we walked quickly through the slots. Ryder strode through the gaming floor, straight out the front of the hotel, and handed a ticket to the valet.
“Now what?” I said.
“Guess we’d better get a cab.”
We hovered inside until Ryder’s valet appeared with his car, a black SUV, and then sprinted to the taxi line as he pulled out.
“I know it’s a cliché, but can you please follow that car?” Jamie smiled broadly at the driver.
The cabbie gave Jamie a dark look, but then pulled out smoothly into traffic behind the SUV. We followed him for a few minutes before I recognized where we were going. “It’s the Tropic of Capricorn,” I said to Jamie. “Eric’s hotel.”
“Interesting,” he said, “but not that surprising, when you think about it. We were here, Eric was here, Justine was here…it would almost be weird if he didn’t come here.”
“Pull up,” I said to the driver, and we waited.
“Doesn’t look like that fire did much damage,” Jamie said.
A few minutes later, Ryder came out again, and we continued following him. Ja
mie’s grin got broader as we followed Ryder to the tattoo store.
“You know, I could get used to this us-chasing-him part,” he said. “I hate that bastard.”
“You’ve never said why.”
“He thinks he’s so much better than me,” Jamie said. Giving me a look, he added, “And he’s wrong. In case you didn’t realize.”
I stuck my tongue out, and almost missed Ryder coming out the front door.
Then things started to get interesting. We followed him to another rundown motel off the strip. There was nowhere for the cab to park that wouldn’t be easily spotted, so we pulled in a few doors up at a gas station. I got out and stood on the curb, craning my neck, waiting for the SUV, wondering how long he would be.
Jamie rolled down his window. “Do you want to walk back there?”
“What if he sees me?”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
I bit my lip and gave him a look.
“All right.” He jumped out of the cab. “You wait with the cab. I’ll go scope things out.”
I climbed back in and waited. The driver had a long and shouty conversation with someone on his cell phone in a language I didn’t understand—Russian maybe?
Jamie was back as fast as he’d left. “He’s off,” he reported. “On the scent, I reckon. Let’s go.”
“Just a sec,” the driver said.
“Come on,” Jamie said, “I’ll give you a good tip.”
The black SUV shot past, and the driver nodded, threw his phone down, and pulled out of the gas station in front of another cab. Horns blared but we were still on the trail.
“He’s headed to…the airport? Really? I wonder what he learned at that motel?”
We followed the SUV past the regular airport entrance.
“He’s going to the charter terminal,” the driver said. “You want me to go there as well?”
“If he pulls in, you can drive past,” Jamie said. Shortly afterward, we passed the black SUV sitting in front of a gatehouse, where a guard talked with Ryder. We pulled up a little farther down the road, then came back. Ryder had gone. Jamie signaled the driver to pull over and went to speak to the guard. A few minutes later, he jammed his long-legged frame into the back seat of the cab.
“Back to Samurai, thanks,” Jamie said.
“What did the guard say?”
“You need a reservation and appropriate paperwork to go in there. Yes, my friend with the blond hair went in, and no, I couldn’t follow him to return his cell phone to him.” Jamie rolled his eyes in disgust. “Too honest by far. I hinted at a nice bribe, but he went cold on me.”
“What do you make of all of that?” I said as we drove, my adrenaline dropping as we got farther away from Ryder.
“Looked to me like he was following Eric’s scent. He’s getting on a charter flight, which means he found out what he wanted to know, or gave up trying.” Jamie paused, rubbing at his stubbly chin. “Ryder’s a bloodhound. He never gives up. I think we should check out that second motel.”
“All right—should we pick up our car and head over there?”
“That’s the plan.”
A little while later, we arrived in the motel parking lot. As Jamie squeezed his body out into the narrow space between our car and the next one over, he stopped and stared hard at the car next to us.
“Cat,” he said, “that’s an unmarked police car.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s full of cop gear. See the lights?”
“Should we run?” I asked, energy surging.
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” he said.
“Wouldn’t that be a novelty for you?”
I looked up at the familiar voice. Detective Jackson waited for us in front of his car.
Chapter Thirteen
“Murphy,” he said. “What are you still doing here?”
“Talking to you, apparently.”
“I thought you’d be headed home by now.” Jackson pushed his jacket back, placed his hands on his hips. One of his hands, coincidentally, rested near his gun.
I took a small step toward the car.
“Dorian suggested it,” Jamie said mildly, “but I told her I still had some sightseeing to do.”
“Perhaps I’ll give her a call,” Jackson said.
“You do that,” Jamie said. “She’s always delighted to hear from you.”
“Shall I tell her you’re on your way?”
“Sure, why not?” Jamie said, giving Jackson a broad smile. “We’re done here. Always a pleasure, Detective. I’ll send you a Christmas card.”
He looked across the car at me, his face white and tight, and then opened the door and got in. I climbed in, fastened my seat belt, and watched his white knuckles on the steering wheel as we pulled out of the parking lot. He continued smiling, but it got more and more forced as we got farther away.
“What do you want to do now?” I asked.
“I thought we’d head back to DC,” he said tightly. “Get that medal looked at.”
I wondered what the exchange between Jamie and the cop had been about, but I figured he’d tell me in his own good time. Maybe I could pry it out of him with sexual favors. Hah! “All right,” I said brightly. “Let’s go.”
My introduction to commercial flight couldn’t have been further from the cushy trip we’d taken earlier in the week on the private jet. Living off-map has its price, and part of that price involved going through an extra security screening because I’d “forgotten” my ID.
Jamie schooled me to say this after I pointed out that I didn’t have any documentation. “They have to let you board,” he said, “but they’ll search you to death.” He’d shaken his head at me like a schoolteacher. “How do you drive?” he’d asked, and I was forced to admit I’d been driving since I was twelve and had never gotten a license.
He’d rolled his eyes at me. “Who’s the criminal now?”
“It’s different. I didn’t have a choice.” My voice sounded prim and hollow even to me.
“There’s always a choice. At least I’m not in denial about my bad decisions.”
After that, we’d traveled in silence to the airport. We hadn’t discussed anything that had happened between us last night, and sitting in my middle seat on the plane, the opportunity didn’t appear to be presenting itself anytime soon. Jamie sat next to me by the window, eyes closed, but I didn’t think he was asleep. On the other side of me, a guy in a tie tapped away on a laptop, circumventing any kind of private conversation.
I still wasn’t sure why we were on our way to DC, or more to the point, why I was on my way to DC. Jamie had a summons, and I was trailing along. I had been supplied a ticket by his boss, and I didn’t know what else to do.
I also didn’t know how to feel about last night. Jamie was hot as hell, flirtatious and fun to be around. If not for his attitude that laws were more, sort of, guidelines, he might be the perfect guy.
All of that was irrelevant, anyway. We’d sort out this thing with Eric, and then I’d get on with my life; anything between us was strictly temporary. Even thinking about a future with Jamie was a total waste of time. That didn’t mean I couldn’t have a one-night stand with him, of course. Or two. Definitely not more than two. Three nights counted as a relationship.
Jamie didn’t open his eyes until we landed, and he didn’t say anything as we went out of the airport into the parking lot. I followed him to a low-slung sports coupe.
“Nice car,” I muttered. “What will happen to your bike?”
He shrugged. “I’ll pick it up sometime.”
Oh, to have so much that you could afford to be casual about your possessions. I lowered myself into the passenger seat, which seemed to be about eight inches off the ground, resisting the urge to cross myself and pray. Instead, I fingered the St. Jude medal in my pocket.
We fell back into silence as Jamie drove down an insanely busy highway. The car wove in and out of trucks and giant SUVs
and I decided after a few minutes that I’d be better off with my eyes shut.
I opened them again a moment later when Jamie turned on the stereo. I’d half expected death metal, but it was the classical equivalent: the 1812 Overture.
My face must have betrayed my surprise, because he gave me a sideways glance and frowned.
“Even us criminals have some taste,” he said.
I resisted the urge to snark in return, and managed to briefly feel smug for succeeding.
We exited the freeway at last into a leafy suburb of large houses. As we turned into side streets, the houses were far from the road, or behind huge gates, and I realized we’d entered mansion territory.
Finally, we pulled into a driveway flanked by two huge stone gateposts, each with a mythological stone creature on top, and a large ornamental iron gate attached. The drive curved through two lines of elm trees, over a little rise, and at last we arrived in front of a huge old gray stone house, with a hundred windows for eyes. I’m not sure if “mansion” or “palace” would have been a more appropriate description.
“Welcome to Riverslea,” Jamie said. He pulled around one side of the main building and parked the coupe at the end of a line of fancy cars.
He opened my door and I followed him around the back to a patio ornamented by whimsical topiary bears. We crossed to a set of French doors. As Jamie reached for the handle, the doors opened.
A middle-aged woman in a dark tailored suit with neat hair scraped into a bun stood in the doorway. Despite her modest appearance, her eyes held us in a steady gray gaze, and the set of her jaw told me she wasn’t happy. Her aura, like her suit, was dark silvery gray and held mostly in check, although little tendrils reached toward us periodically. She smoothed them down. To anyone un-Talented, it would have appeared she was merely smoothing her hair. I got the strongest notion she was a telepath, and she gave me a brief, secret smile.
“James,” she said, “It’s good to have you home.” Her deep voice and educated Southern vowels rolled over us.
She turned her regard to me. “Catrina. A pleasure to meet you at last.” One elegant hand extended out to me, palm down, and I reached out to shake it, not knowing what else to do. Her aura stroked over my hand, which was not nearly as unpleasant as it sounds.
Talent to Burn (Hidden Talent #1) Page 9
