Bad to the Bone (20 page)

“Gosh, when you put it so sweetly, how could I not?” Jessica asked coldly. “If I had to guess.…”

“You do.”

She gritted her teeth to keep from giving Sully the fight he wanted. Events had pulled her along so fast tonight, she hadn’t stopped long enough to consider exactly who the guy had worked for. Her first concern had been protecting Iris, then protecting herself from being at the center of a police investigation, and lastly, dealing with Sully. There was a full-time job.

Clearing her mind, she let herself cast back over the seconds before she’d fired the gun. First impression, that’s what she wanted. That first split second when he’d turned toward her, gun raised but late somehow. Angling her head upward, she made her guess. “I’d say he was a company man.”

Surprise flooded Sully’s expression—as if he’d been sure the intruder was someone other than the CIA. Leaning toward her, he cross-examined her like a cop. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“No!” Jessica shook her head in exasperation. “I’m not sure at all. I told you it’s a
guess
. That’s like a hunch. You remember what that is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s when I think someone’s lying to me, but I can’t prove it.”

Jessica closed her eyes, counted to ten. She was tired. It was three in the morning. Too late and too early to play word games with Sully, but he wouldn’t leave her alone.

“What’s this hunch based on, Jessie?”

Exhaling and opening her eyes, Jessica tried to put her flash of intuition into words and failed miserably. “It’s just that he was too confident. Like he had a team backing him up and all the time in the world. It’s different with freelance people. It’s just … different.”

“To risk coming after you like that—Don’t you think they had to be pretty damn certain you had the book?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What made them believe you had it?” he pressed. “Why now? Why didn’t they come after you last night? What’s changed?”

“Because last night they still had places to look!” she snapped. “Now, they’re running out. I imagine they didn’t find anything in those boxes of files from Phil’s office.”

“The CIA shut down the Houston investigation,” Sully told her, and paused—obviously expecting a reaction. She didn’t give him one. “They called the dogs off and muzzled the media. Sounds like they don’t want Phil or that book found any time soon.”

“Standard procedure. They’ll take care of it internally.” Jessica pushed past Sully. She couldn’t think with him so close, or catch her breath, not when he dropped bombs like this on her.

Lincoln might have cleared the house of bugs, but a parabolic microphone could have picked up her side of the conversation with Phil’s kidnappers. Dear God, that was why they tried to kill her tonight. The company overheard her side of the dialogue, and they sent someone to stop her from trading that book. The book she didn’t even have.

What have you done, Jessica?
Silently castigating herself for stupidity, Jessica grabbed a handful of shirt over her stomach and forced herself to think. Her mind rapidly spun out the possibility that was most likely as she paced the length of the porch.

Plan A had been a disaster, so they’d have to drop back to Plan B. Jessica was grimly certain that they had a Plan B. They knew the swap location.

How many would they send? Probably only one, she decided. Someone good. Somebody better than good. He’d want them all in the open, so he’d wait until the deal was done. He’d take out the kidnappers first. They’d run for cover if they could, but she’d stay to help Phil, which made her a secondary target, a safe bet. Always get the runners first; the bleeding hearts second.

No mistakes this time. That’s why the company would send the best they had. One hit man, no need for elaborate planning. Just four shots, and he could save Phil for last. Phil wouldn’t be much of a challenge in his condition. Which meant that
three
fast shots at sitting ducks were all her opponent had to make.

She had to make those same shots … only one of her ducks wasn’t in a row. No matter—it’s a piece of cake, she told herself. Focus, concentrate, and squeeze off three rounds. Six seconds, maybe five. All she had to do was spot the “cleaner”—the CIA operative—first. That’s all.

Jessica wanted to laugh. It was amazing how a mind could take an impossible problem and selectively rework it so that it didn’t seem so impossible. If he got off the first shot, she’d at least have sound to locate him. Her only advantage was that the cleaner had no idea Jessica Daniels was Gemini, one of Phil’s “boys.” Maybe he’d make a mistake and show himself too early, dismiss her as an opponent.

Yeah, and maybe they’ll send two instead of one
.

“Jessie?” Sully’s worried question from behind her dragged her back to the present. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Tomorrow would have to take care of itself, she decided. She had no choice. She’d made Iris a promise to bring her father home. She’d die before she broke that promise. Dying was a distinct possibility.

Facing Sully, she took a deep breath and confessed, “I seem to have made a small miscalculation.”

Her face was so pale, Sully thought it might be a trick of the moonlight. When she hugged herself, he knew it wasn’t. He’d taken a step toward her before he stopped himself, remembering how easily she lied. Jessie had an agenda and falling into bed with her hadn’t changed that. Pale or not, she still wasn’t telling him the truth.

Now that he was a little closer, he could see the determined set of her mouth. She had plans within plans. With Jessie, unwrapping one layer only led to another.

“What miscalculation?” he asked.

“How tired I am. I can’t do this now. Okay?”

“We’re done anyway.”

“No, we’re not.” Jessie shook her head in disgust. “We won’t be ‘done’ until you decide what you’re going to do about all this … about me. Nothing is
what it seems. The boat is rocking, and you can’t stand it.”

“I’m funny that way. I’m an officer of the
law
.”

“You’re not a cop,” she told him as she stepped past him. “You’re judge and jury, Sully. You like good and evil neatly labeled so you can hate the one and admire the other. Sad fact is, most people are both. You’ve got to take the bad with the good. Or you’ll end up with nothing at all.”

Sully turned on his heel to stare after her. “How many fortune cookies did you have to go through to come up with that pithy little philosophy?”

“Just a lot of bad years and one smart cookie—Madame Evangeline. The kid’s spooky with a deck of tarot cards. She nailed me. She sure as hell nailed you.” Jessie dragged open the screen door and got in one parting shot before she left him standing on the porch. “Of course, no one bats a thousand. Iris was a little vague about exactly what went wrong between you and your father. Night, Sully.”

He blamed the cool night air for the gooseflesh and the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck.

At the scream Jessica’s eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright in bed, trying to orient herself. For a moment she thought the nightmare had awakened her. The night was gone, but the room was still dim. It wasn’t Utopia, she realized; it was Jericho. This was Sully’s room.

As she sucked in air to settle her pulse, the sound came again. It was an eerie muffled half cry, half wail. Not the nightmare scream at all, but disturbing—

Iris
.

Flinging the covers off, Jessica hit the door at a
run. The living room was empty. The spare room door was closed, and Jessica held her breath as she opened it. Dammit! Iris wasn’t in the bed.

Surely they didn’t find us already. Surely they wouldn’t take a little girl just to get some leverage. Would they?
Of course they would.

Heart in her throat, Jessica sprinted toward the screen door. “Iris!”

“Whoa!” Sully grabbed her as he rounded the corner of the kitchen and hauled her back by her arm. “What’s the rush?”

“Sully! Something’s wrong.” She tried to drag her elbow away from his grasp. “I heard someone crying, and now I can’t find Iris.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Settle down. She’s on the beach.” He held a mug dripping sloshed coffee away from him. “I just came back in for a refill. You probably heard the gull.”

“A gull?” All the air whooshed out of Jessica, deflating her terror.

“I’ve got a crazy one nesting underneath the house.” Sully let her arm go. “She’s got a real nasty cry if you aren’t used to it.”

“It was a bird? My stomach is in a knot, my heart is in my throat, and it was a
bird
?”

“ ’Fraid so.”

She took the cup of coffee out of Sully’s hand and downed half of it before she’d made it out the door. The caffeine began to calm the shakes which came from trying to operate on four hours of sleep. The normal sounds of non-crazy gulls and terns blew away the last of the fear and cobwebs. Still, her heart constricted when a small figure walking in the surf turned to wave at her.

If anything had happened to Iris.…

Sully watched Jessie’s knees give out, and she sat down abruptly on the porch steps. Last night’s break-in had obviously scared her more than she let show. Layers and layers, Sully reminded himself.

Her shirt and bra had been gone last night when he went back in the house. But this morning she still had on his shirt; she hadn’t changed except to add the leggings. Sully was swamped by a feeling of intimacy. Jessie had invaded his life without trying. She occupied his dreams, slept in his bed. Now, she sat on his porch, drinking
his
coffee from
his
mug and wearing
his
shirt.

Had it been any other woman, he would have been itching to pack her into a car and wave good-bye.

The part of himself he’d been trying to deny since he made love to Jessie admitted that he wanted her here. He wanted simple intimacies like the scent of Jessie on his sheets and the smile she hardly ever gave to anyone. He wanted that smile to belong to him. He wanted Jessie to belong to him.

She already does
.

Only her body, Sully reminded himself, the memory still fresh and sharp in his mind. He actually had to close his eyes against the wave of desire that swept through him. Great sex wasn’t enough. They both knew that. There were still secrets between them—his, hers. The longer Jessie stayed, the harder it would be to give her up.

Coming to sit beside her, Sully clasped his hands between his knees and stared out at Iris. Jessie had scooted over to give him more room, but her eyes never wavered from Iris, as if she were a nervous mother hen watching out for her baby chick.

Jessie, girl, it’s all about Iris for you, isn’t it? That’s why you’re here. Whatever you’re doing is because of her
.
Why can’t you tell me? Why is this kid’s trouble like a mission for you? You almost got killed over her
.

“That’s an easy kid to get attached to,” he noted as Iris stopped combing the beach and tried a few back bends.

“I guess she is.” Jessie looked away from the girl and studied her coffee. “If you’re the type to get attached.”

“You’re the type all right. You killed a man for her,” Sully reminded her quietly.

Her hands tightened on the mug, and she pressed her lips together. He hadn’t meant to bring that subject up so bluntly, but now that he had, it was just as well. Pretending didn’t make the facts go away.

“Jessie, the two of you have to go down and sign formal statements today. You think she’s up to it?”

She shook her head as Iris started up the sandy slope to the house. “I think she’s been through all the hell a kid can stand in the last forty-eight hours. Can we do it tomorrow?”

“Probably. But I’ll still have to go in and talk to the chief. I have to tell him about Munro and the CIA taking over in Houston and hope he doesn’t fire me when I ask for some time off.”
And then there’s the call I need to make to Utopia
. “I need to be gone a couple of hours.”

Jessica turned and really looked at Sully for the first time that morning. He hadn’t shaved, but he’d put on a T-shirt so wrinkled, it must have been in his dryer for days. Shadows of doubt shrouded his blue eyes, turning them gray and cloudy. Sully didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. Fair enough. She didn’t deserve his trust at the moment.

Holding his gaze, she said, “And you want to know if we’ll be here when you get back.”

“Yeah. Make me a
promise
.”

“You pay attention,” Jessica whispered.

“To everything you have ever said. Or done. Make me a promise, Jessie.” He lifted the coffee mug out of her hand. “You said you didn’t break promises. I want you here when I get back.”

“And then what happens?”

“I don’t know,” he answered heavily, angrily, as if unwilling to examine the future. “Deflowering virgins and bending the law are new experiences for me. So excuse me, darlin’, if I don’t have a copy of the playbook.”

“Which of the two do you hate more?” Jessie asked before she could stop herself. She knew the answer, but something inside her wanted to hear him admit that last night shook him as much as it did her.

“I hate that you picked the wrong man.” He downed the last of the coffee. “Make me a promise, Jessie, or the two of you go with me.”

“We’ll stay tonight, Sully, but Iris needs to check the phone messages. You and I know her dad won’t have called, but I’m not telling her that. And I need to get my rental car. I don’t want to leave it there,” she lied to cover the fact that she had to have transportation that night. “My insurance’ll go through the roof if anything happens to it.”

Sully laughed in disbelief. “With everything else going on, you’re worried about insurance premiums? Lord, Jessie, no wonder you have that streak of white in your hair. It’s from all that constant worrying.”

Iris wandered up in time to hear his comments. “Virgos are natural worriers.”

“I never told you my birthday. How’d you know my sign?” Jessica asked, startled.

“Oh, I’m good at astrology. It’s a gift.” Iris was
smiling a little. “I can always tell someone’s zodiac sign. Sully’s a Leo. His roar is worse than his bite.”