Circle of Fire (19 page)

“You think she’s involved with the missing kids?”

“I think it’s likely, but I’ve no evidence to prove it at this point.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.”

“You might also want to keep an eye on Hank Stewart. He runs the Sherbrook Inn and, I’m pretty sure, works for Eleanor.”

“Will do.” Mack hesitated, and Jon could almost hear the mental gears shifting up a notch. “I heard there was a fire at the inn last night.”

The big man’s voice was neutral.
He knows
, Jon thought. “Really?”

“A young woman fitting the description of Madeline Smith was rescued by a man remarkably similar to yourself.”

“I wasn’t staying at the inn last night.”

“Maybe not. But I checked the register, and a Madeline Smith was.”

Jon swore under his breath. He’d forgotten about the register.

Mack continued on. “And two nights ago, you were also registered at the inn—and staying in the same room.”

Jon ran a hand through his hair. He knew he’d better give Mack some information, or the agent would haul the two of them into the station for questioning. Another delay was not what they needed right now.

“She’s not involved with the kid’s disappearance. She’s trying to find him.”

“Then why disappear?”

“She didn’t disappear. She’s been here all this time. She’s a psychic. And from what I can gather, she has a somewhat strained relationship with the kid’s father.”

“And a somewhat strained relationship with the
police, too. The kid’s father isn’t the only one convinced that she’s responsible for her husband’s death.”

Husband? Maddie had been
married
? Jon swore softly. “What was the official reason given for his death?”

“Died in a fire.”

Jon closed his eyes. It explained so much—her fear, her need to retreat. He wondered if she’d loved the man she’d married and killed. Wondered whether the fire had been a mistake or intentional.

“Mack, I need her help. Can you keep everyone off our backs for a couple of days?”

“I could—if you agree to let me know when you discover any new information.”

“Agreed.”
When
he’d let the agent know was an entirely different matter. Despite Seline’s warning, he didn’t want to bring Mack in just yet. The FBI agent wanted the justice system to take care of Eleanor and Hank, and that simply wasn’t an option. Justice wouldn’t understand the likes of Eleanor, and it certainly wouldn’t be able to hold her.

Only death could do that.

“Good,” Mack growled. “I’ll be in touch.”

Jon hung up. At least now they could move around without having to worry about the police spotting Maddie. He frowned and leaned a shoulder against the wall, staring at the bathroom door. Now all he had to do was convince her that the intensity of their kiss had been nothing more than a result of the drug. That it had meant nothing to him, just as
she
meant nothing to him.

After the attack on her last night, it was obvious that both Eleanor and Hank suspected she was working
with him. The longer she stayed in Taurin Bay, the greater the danger to her life.

Acting cold hadn’t succeeded in driving her away so far, but he had a suspicion it would eventually. Something in her eyes told him it brought back memories of a past she’d much rather forget. And maybe those memories were of a husband she’d feared enough to kill.

He pushed away from the wall and moved back to the table. Before he did anything else today, he had to get back to his truck and the weapons stashed there. After last night, Eleanor would be waiting for his next move. He had no intention of walking into a fight without the means of protecting Maddie.

M
ADDIE TILTED HER FACE UP TO THE SHOWERHEAD AND LET
the spray massage her skin. She was a fool—a fool to kiss Jon, and a fool to ask that damn question. What had she really expected him to say? If she wasn’t certain of her own emotions, why should she expect him to be any different? They were strangers thrown into a dangerous situation by chance. When it was over and Evan was safe, they would go their separate ways. Why would she ever expect anything more?

Because when I’m with him, it almost seems as if I’ve found the other half of myself
. She turned her back to the spray. Maybe she felt so attracted to the man simply because he seemed to understand. For the first time in her life, she’d found someone who didn’t mock or belittle her abilities. Only death had stopped Brian’s viciousness.

Memories rose unbidden. She clenched her fists and
tried to stop them—but to no avail. Once again she felt the pain of Brian’s fists smashing into her body, her face. Felt fire burn uncontrolled through her body. Heard his laughter turn to screams as the flames engulfed him.

She shuddered and leaned her forehead against the shower wall. In the worst of her dreams, she could still see him burn, could see his flesh blacken and peel away, smell his death in every pore of her skin. In reality, though, she’d run the minute he’d let her go. She’d never seen him die—hadn’t wanted to, despite everything he’d done to her. But neither had she called for help, not until she knew he was well and truly dead.

I’ve killed, and I’m still a risk, because I can’t control my abilities
. That she’d managed to control those same abilities long enough to see the location of the cabin in which Evan was a prisoner meant nothing. They might help save Evan, but that would never really ease the weight of her guilt.

It was all very well for Jon to suggest she find help, but what if it was too late to make any true difference now? What if her fire-starting had grown so wild it could never be truly contained? Being with Jon wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. It was safer to stay alone—and lonely. At least then she could kill no one but herself.

If only Jon’s kiss hadn’t stolen her breath and her heart, and made her want him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

If only she didn’t have to face him this morning and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

She sighed and stepped out of the shower. Maybe they’d get lucky and find Evan and the other teenager this morning. Then she could leave before she did something foolish.

Like admit her feelings to a man who just didn’t care.

She dressed quickly and ran a comb through the thick tangle of her hair. Then she took a deep breath and eyed her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back had dark rings under her eyes and a figure well hidden by a loose, vibrant green sweater. Not her most attractive outfit, which was probably just as well. If he gave her one of his heated looks, she might just melt.

Only he didn’t even bother looking up from the newspaper he was reading when she walked out of the bathroom.

So much for worrying about any lingering tension
, she thought with a scowl. She sat down at the table. Maybe all the heat had been little more than fallout from the drug—at least on his part. Maybe he couldn’t even remember it.

“Eat up,” he said, picking up the coffeepot and pouring her a cup. “It’ll be light soon, and we don’t want to waste too much time, in case they move the kids.”

She picked up the coffee to warm her hands and looked at the toast and cereal. She suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. But she picked up some cold toast and ate it anyway.

He looked up only when she’d finished, and there was nothing but polite interest in his face. “Ready to go?” he asked, pulling his gaze away from hers.

But not before she’d seen the shadows under his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t slept as soundly as she’d first thought.

She rose and collected her purse and keys. “Can we take your truck? That way I can study the map and look for the place I saw last night.”

He hesitated. “It’s still parked near the inn. I walked to the restaurant to meet Eleanor, remember?”

“Oh.” She frowned, not wanting to think about him and Eleanor. Even if he hadn’t succeeded in seducing her, the thought of them together still churned her stomach. “It’s just that I’m worried about my brakes—they’re not really safe at the moment, especially if it rains, as they’re predicting.”

“The inn’s not that far away, Maddie. We can walk there, or catch a cab.”

“What about Hank? And Eleanor?”

“With an inn full of guests to worry about, and the cleanup after the fire, I doubt they’ll be spending too much time staring out windows. Besides, the truck is parked on a side street.”

There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I was only asking a simple question.”

“And I was answering. What do you want to do?”

“Walk. The sun is out.” And she didn’t have enough spare cash for another cab ride.

“Are you going to be warm enough in that old coat of yours?” he asked, following her out the door.

She glanced up. The sun might be out, but it didn’t look as if it would hold for long. Dark clouds were racing across the sky, and the wind was ice cold. She
shivered and quickly zipped her coat. It barely kept out the wind’s chill. Against heavy rain, it would be useless. But she’d be damned if she’d admit it. Not when she wanted to be seen as a useful member of this partnership rather than a burden.

“I’ll be fine.”

He made a sound suspiciously like a snort of disbelief and slammed the door closed.

She ignored him and marched up the street. He was beside her almost instantly, his stride long and loose, his arm casually brushing against hers when he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. They walked in silence for several long minutes, but she was very aware of him watching her.

“I think we need to talk about last night,” he said softly.

Last night was a nightmare she’d rather forget, which he was no doubt about to tell her to do. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice holding an edge of annoyance she just couldn’t help. “I know you were drugged. I took advantage of it, and I’m sorry.”

He lightly touched her elbow, guiding her across the street. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

Heat flushed her cheeks. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Pulling away from his hand, she strode on, keeping her gaze well away from him.

“It’s what
I’m
talking about. I realize that what happened between us was just a result of the drug, nothing more.”

He didn’t answer straightaway. Almost against her will, she found her gaze drawn to his. There was a hint of wry amusement in his smile that just didn’t make sense.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” he murmured, then grabbed her arm, pulling her sideways. “Dog shit,” he explained when she glanced at him. “Not a smell I recommend in the confines of a truck cabin.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, and once again pulled her arm from his grasp. It felt too good, too comforting. Too
intimate
.

They walked on in silence. Ten minutes later they reached his truck. Jon opened the door for her. She climbed in, carefully avoiding his touch and his gaze, then reached for the road map shoved down the side of the seat.

“Head up the freeway. According to this, the turnoff to Jewell is about twenty miles out of Taurin Bay.”

He nodded as he drove off. “When we find this cabin, I want you to stay in the truck—with the doors locked.”

“No.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. She felt his annoyed gaze flicker over her.

“Maddie, we have no idea who will be in the cabin with the kids. It’s safer if you stay here.”

His voice held a barely controlled edge of impatience. She ignored it and shook her head. “You can’t handle both Hank and Eleanor alone.”

“You only saw Hank last night.”

Last night seemed little more than a bad dream. Suddenly weary, she pushed her hair back from her face. “Eleanor has had plenty of time to get there, you know.”

“I know.”

His answer seemed ground out between clenched teeth, as if he didn’t like to be reminded of it. She
glanced across at him. Dark stubble lined his cheek, and tiny crow’s feet edged the corners of his eyes. He looked tired. And worried.

“They’ve had plenty of time to arrange a trap.”

“They don’t know we’re coming,” he replied reasonably.

Too reasonably. Tension surrounded him, edged with anger.

“After last night, they’d suspect the worst. They’d plan ahead.” She watched his fingers flex against the steering wheel and knew she was sitting next to a volcano ready to explode.

How often did he come this close to losing control of his emotions? Last night she’d thought he’d been just as surprised by the passion of their kiss as she, but now that she’d had a chance to think about it, maybe he was more surprised over the fact that he
had
lost control.

I need you
, he’d said. The words made her heart tremble, even now. She had a feeling that he rarely admitted to needing anything, or anyone—even for something as basic as sex.

They passed a road sign, and she glanced down at the map to check their position. Her stomach tightened. They were close.

“We’re almost there.” She glanced at him. There was no mistaking the worry she saw in his blue eyes this time. Her heart did an uneven little jig.

“I can’t let you go in alone,” she continued, and glanced out the side window. “And I won’t run, no matter what you do or say.”

“And I can’t let you endanger yourself needlessly.”

She met his gaze and steeled her heart against the
brief flash of emotion she saw in the bright depths of his eyes.

“What are you going to do, hit me? Knock me unconscious too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I could never do anything like that to you.”

“I know nothing of the sort. We’re partners, nothing more. Remember?” She paused and watched the chill steal through his eyes. “You have no right to stop me from doing this.”
No right to act as if you care, when we both know you don’t
.

He didn’t reply, so she returned her gaze to the side window and watched the scenery grow more familiar. Her fingers clenched, crushing the map. This was it. This was the area. Her dream had been correct.

“Slow down,” she whispered, her throat dry with fear.