Mystical Love (73 page)

Sonny bit back a scathing retort. She ought to tell him that the picture depicted him and her dallying in the gardens. Naked. What would he say to that interpretation?

Probably attempt to choke
you, like before
, her inner voice taunted.

Right. Keep the conversation away from erotic lovemaking.

“Cat got your tongue? Or have I discovered one of your naughty little secrets?”

“Change the subject, Mr. Reed,” she said, as the elevator cage settled into place and the doors swung open. She stepped out onto another cement patio. “So far, I sense no connection between the Lovers card and the evidence collected at your crime scenes. Until I do, they are separate entities.”

“There is a connection, though.”

Sonny smiled. “See there, I
am
making a believer out of you.”

His hand suddenly lifted and caressed her hair. “I'd rather make you a believer in the
physical
world. It can be a magnificent place with just two people. You're a stunning wench. A man would be a fool not to let nature take its course and have incredible sex with you.”

Stunned by his words, Sonny swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She wished she had the courage to floor the man and kiss him. She'd love to know what his lips tasted like
. They're
delish
, her inner voice chided.
Can't you tell just by looking at them?

Again, shut up,
she told her ego.
We are not kissing any toads today.

A loud sigh emanated from Logan as he dropped his hand. “I'll take that as a no,” he said wryly.

Ignoring his sarcasm, Sonny stepped further out onto the patio and headed towards a pair of intersecting sidewalks. A wolf whistle startled her, and she turned back at once.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Just wanted you to know that I always get what I want—sooner or later.” He took her elbow and propelled her forward. “Now, while we're on our way to meet this Lieutenant Cutter of yours, could we finally discuss the Tarot card?”

Sonny gave a weary sigh. Were all Meta Corps agents so one-track minded? Her heart was racing at his offer of sex, and what was his doing? It was pulling her out of a fantasy world and back to reality. Stiffening her spine, she realized there was no reason she should ignore his question.

“It's easy for the Lovers card to be misinterpreted,” she said, as they descended some steps. “The image depicted is obvious, of course—the erotic attraction between the male and female; realistically, there's more to it. An attraction that starts out with a sizzle comes with problems—namely, having to make a choice about the relationship somewhere down the line. Generally, the lovers are tossed into a trial of some kind, which keeps them together or tears them apart for good.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a spurned lover's MO to me,” Logan replied. “What about the note your father left on the back of the card?”

“What note?”

“Don't test my patience,” he told her. “Remember, I have none. Your father left a note on the back of the card for you. Did it warn you were in danger?

Sonny's eyes widened at his words. How had he managed to see the note? He had barely touched the card.

“Whatever you're about to say—don't,” he warned. He threw her a warped grin. “My job calls for an intuitive eye, and everything I perceive is a clue to a bigger piece of the puzzle … ”

“And you say you're not psychic,” Sonny mocked him. She waved him towards a lavishly decorated but empty pool area. His scowl reappeared as they walked, making her suppress a shiver. If looks could kill, she'd be dead.

“And buried,” he said, enigmatically.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Read people's thoughts and then pretend there's no such thing as the supernatural world.”

“Years of practice,” he said. “Plus, I had plenty of time to read up on the Blake family on the airplane. Your father leads a charmed life—beautiful sister, beautiful daughter—and more money than he can possibly spend in two lifetimes. However, there's one glaring fault with the biography.”

“Which is?”

“He doesn't appear to protect his daughter's empathic talents. If anything, he appears to use your gift for his own gain. On the other hand, you have almost as much money as your father, but you make substantial donations to a number of worthy charities.”

“Those donations were made in private.”

His hiss cut her next words off. “Stow your outrage. There isn't anything a Meta Corps agent can't get his hands on these days. I have no intention of revealing your magnanimous donations to anyone.”

“Then get to the point,” she said. “We're almost at the security offices.”

“How are you going to introduce me to Cutter? How you do will change how I approach him.”

Sonny met his stony stare. Did he intend to manipulate the lieutenant as he had done with her? She'd love to see him try it. No, on second thought, she knew he would get along famously with Dick. Both were pompously arrogant and proud of the fact.

“United we stand, divided we fall?” she jibed, leading him onto a second veranda decked with outdoor tables and chairs. A crowd of sunbathers stood huddled around a long buffet table, and as the pair zigzagged past the waiting line, a matronly senior waved for Sonny's attention. The pair paused.

“Miss Blake, I can't thank you enough for the reading yesterday,” Marilyn Boulder gushed. “I can't believe how much I got out of it. You know what a skeptic I was. But to hear that Thomas is at peace … Well, I cried all the way back to the bungalow.”

“You did all the work, Mrs. Boulder,” Sonny said. “And, of course, Thomas did his part.”

Tears welled within the matron's eyes, and she dug for a tissue. “I'm such a sentimental old bitty,” she said, wiping her cheeks. “I don't know how Thomas ever stood me.”

“He loved you to pieces.”

A grateful sniff came Sonny's way. “Bless you for that, my dear.” She blew her nose and then signaled the pair. “Now, don't let me keep you and your young man from enjoying your time together.” She dove back into the buffet line and began following the procession.

Sonny's lips tilted. The woman thought she and Logan were an item.
If
only
, her inner voice chided.

Logan took her arm, sidestepping the line. “Do you remember all the guests' names?” he queried as they walked.

A mischievous glint surfaced in Sonny's eyes. “Well, I
am
the best.”

His mouth twitched with amusement, but he didn't offer a verbal retort. Instead, they strode the portico, coming to a halt at a pair of double swinging doors. Once there, she threw up her hand, signaling him back.

“Give me a minute to speak with Dick. The mess on the mesa needs to be cleaned up stat. The trails open at two on Sunday, and we can't have people seeing broken tables, bullet shells, and shattered glass while they're hiking.”

Logan nodded, holding the door open for her. Appreciating the chivalry, Sonny felt compelled to lighten the mood between them.

“Since I didn't say it before, welcome to The Sanctuary. If you keep walking along this corridor, you'll see signs pointing to the registration desk. When you get there, ask for Jessie and tell her to give you the cactus suite, per my orders.”

“Is the room next to your suite?”

Sonny gave a sarcastic laugh. “I never allow handsome men to stay in the suite next to mine. If I did, the gossips would have a field day. Not to mention Ned and Uncle Brad would come knocking on your door, asking what your intentions towards me might be.”

His lips tilted upwards. “I'm sure I can convince them my intentions are honorable,” he spouted.

“I'm sure you could, but we are not going down that rabbit hole anytime soon.”

“Too bad. I fancy sleeping next to you, even if there's a brick wall between us.”

Sonny laughed. “Sorry. You'll just have to grin and bear it. We'll meet for dinner tonight, though. I'll introduce you to the family then.”

“Looking forward to it.”

He signaled her inside again, and Sonny went, surprised when he slipped his fingers through her gloved ones. Her heartbeat quickened as she sensed the touch of his fingers through the fabric.

“Don't you ever take a hint?” she asked, as he strolled alongside her.

“About what?”

“About me going
my
way, and you going
yours.
”

“I can't protect you unless we're both going the same way.”

“You are not sleeping in my suite, Logan.”

“Ah, my first name at last,” he teased. “I thought you'd never stop thinking of me as Agent Reed.”

“It was a slip of the tongue,” she countered.

He made no comment, just grinned at her, and she wondered how one man could be so baffling—dripping with arrogance one minute, soft gentleness the next. It was a deadly combination, and she could only hope his stay at the retreat would be extremely short. In fact, she'd leave no stone unturned in her effort to make it so.

Shaking his fingers loose, she led him through the kitchen area, through a crowded dining hall, and then followed the signs marked “Security Offices.” A minute later, they stopped at a double glass door with a digital box on the wall beside it. Sonny punched in a passcode, and the doors slid back quickly. Stepping in, she shivered. She hated how cold this room had to stay. Her gaze swept the massive command center. She also hated all the surveillance cameras, console stations, and monitoring equipment. She didn't like spying on people. She did enough of that when reading clients. This technology was different, though. It was secretive and intrusive, which her father deemed necessary for the safety of the guests.
At least when we spy, we have a client's permission
, her ego advised.

“You could've told me your father owned Fort Knox,” Logan said softly in her ear.

“And ruin any chance of earning your respect?” she shot back. Her gaze skimmed the room, searching for the lieutenant.

“You earned that up on the mesa. Now, where the hell is the lieutenant?”

“Good God, Sonny, what happened to you?” The voice was booming, and Sonny whirled, spotting Dick Cutter's giant frame barreling towards them. When he reached her side, he took one look at her disheveled appearance and cursed. “What the hell have you been doing? Rolling around in the mud?”

Sonny started to say, “Dodging bullets,” but had no chance as Logan stepped forward, offering his hand.

“Agent Logan Reed—out of Meta Corps, New York City branch. You've a serious problem on your hand, Lieutenant. Someone just tried to kill Sonny up on the mesa.”

Standing in front of a computer monitor, David Blake adjusted his headset.

“You're sure Sonny was the target and not this agent fellow?” he asked, glancing at Dick Cutter's face on the screen. “What kind of credentials has he shown?”

The lieutenant made a face. “All the proper ones. Plus, I've spoken with his boss in New York City, who confirms he and Sonny are working on a Meta Corps case together. According to him, the man's a goddamn legend.”

“Well, he better be, or I'll see him rot in hell,” David said. He flicked a switch and then lowered his sturdy frame onto a standing chair. “Keep me in the loop, Dick. And keep an eye on Sonny and her companion—nothing obvious.”

“Her companion won't like it. He notices everything.”

“Well, don't rock the boat unless you have to,” David said, flicking off the monitor. He sat for a moment, wondering what his next plan of action should be. He checked his watch. Ned was on his way. He didn't have much time to load the stolen disc into the computer and passcode it for Sonny.

Hitting the keyboard, he brought up the “load” icon and began loading the disc. When it finished, he programmed it with a key code and then secured it with a fail-safe subroutine. He'd make damn sure no one could delete the program before Sonny saw it. A series of back loops followed the first loop. It was clear he had seriously miscalculated Ned's ability to hide in plain sight, but he would soon rectify that error.

“You crazy bastard ... Where's the disc?”

The words ripped through the air, startling David. He swung on his chair, spotting the knife in Ned's hand immediately. He grimaced.

“Killing me won't get you the disc, you bastard. I've sent it so far into cyberspace, it'll take ten teams of computer hackers to retrieve it.”

Ned's face clouded with a rage that shocked David. “If you think I'm going to let you destroy everything I've built the last ten years, you're a fucking lunatic.” In the next instant, he moved, bringing up the knife as he came.

Whirling on his chair, David attempted to flee, but before he could make it to his feet, a sharp, burning pain erupted in the middle of his back and trickled upward. It ended with a blinding explosion across his lower neck. He reached up and back. When his fingers encircled the stem of the knife, he attempted to pull it out; however, Ned reached out and plunged the knife deeper into the confines of his back.

Drained of air, his lungs shut down, and a blinding flash of pinpricks skewered his eyelids. Soon, like a balloon deflating, his head sank onto the keyboard. He struggled for control and forced one last conscious thought.
Touch the knife, Sonny.

• • •

Leaning against the doorjamb, Logan studied the woman crossing the carpet. She was like a sleek tiger, silently stalking its prey one minute, happily eating it the next. Right now, she was standing on tiptoe, opening a skylight, and her silhouette was so mesmerizing that Logan's blood stirred unexpectedly. He banished the desire to his “don't go there” file.