Wolf in Plain Sight (18 page)

“What is a Passion Party?” he asked, baiting her and enjoying the anger that made her breaths harsh and her actions jerky. Just how far would she really go for a story?

“Sexy parties.” Her glare slid away. “Housewives hold them. They learn about using…sexual devices and model undergarments.” She huffed and toed off her leather loafers, giving each one a kick that sent it flying against the wall.

The chit really was going to strip. He had no doubt if he looked inside her mind at this moment, he’d see himself with a red target circling his head.

Navarro turned to hide the smile that almost curved his lips. He walked to a side table and poured himself a drink. Once his expression was under control, he lifted the crystal decanter in her direction. “Care for a brandy? It will help keep you warm.”

She muttered under her breath, pushed her jeans and underwear down her hips, and stepped out of her clothing.

With his superior hearing, he caught the words, “Smart ass!” and bit back a grin. He shrugged, set down the decanter, and took his seat, letting his gaze slide over the creamy flesh of her rounded bottom.

Pretending indifference, he gave her pale limbs a dismissing glance and indicated the chair opposite his armchair.

She stomped over and flounced down on it. As soon as she was seated, she slid one leg on top of the other.

An action that effectively cut off his view of the triangle of curly hair at the apex of her thighs.

Situated before the fire, her body was illuminated by flickering firelight. The red-gold flame painted her pale flesh in golden tones. Lovely, he thought, though a little lacking in curves. If he had half a mind to seek a little refreshment, she’d offer only a light snack.

Navarro settled deeper into his chair and took a sip of his brandy. He glanced at her mutinous face over the top of his glass. “You have two minutes. You may begin.”

Although he was sure she couldn’t see his features clearly in the darkness, her gaze narrowed accusingly. “I’m following an interesting story,” she said, her tone biting. “It involves teenagers who were pronounced dead, but who are still walking around Seattle. A serial killer who was part of your organization—but mysteriously disappeared.”

He stirred his glass with a negligent turn of his wrist, watching the firelight swirl in the amber liquid. “Sounds like old news.”

Her fingers dug into the leather arms of her chair as she leaned forward. “How about a string of unsolved murders—” she blurted, “
also
teenagers, but in south Florida with MOs suspiciously similar to those here in Seattle? They started shortly after the pilot of your private jet filed a manifest. Wanna guess his destination?”

Navarro stilled. The murders weren’t unsolved—the outcome was just unpublicized—and the killer had paid the ultimate price. But the fact she’d made any kind of link between the killings and his actions disturbed him.

“You’re kind of quiet,” she said, her lips curving in triumph.

“Interesting facts,” he said, keeping his voice even, although his amusement and patience had dried up. “But you haven’t asked me a single question—and you only have one minute left.”

The woman sat back in her chair, her expression benign.

She wasn’t finished, yet. Navarro guessed she’d probably even forgotten she was entirely nude.

Her gaze was too focused, her smile almost feline—small and enigmatic. “Humor me,” she said. “Just one more item of trivia. One of your
associates
, a fellow master on your council, was aboard that plane, but he didn’t return. The murders resumed in Florida around the same time Dylan O’Hara arrived. Don’t you think the authorities would find
that
interesting?”

Navarro relaxed. She had a few facts, but wasn’t connecting all the dots. “No.” He set aside his glass. “See how accommodating I’ve been? I answered your question.”

A frown creased her forehead, and her shoulders slumped. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t figured it all out yet—how he’s connected and why the killings suddenly stopped—but I’m not through digging.”

“Tell me, Miss Coffey. What do you think will happen if you approach your station with this information—and your creative spin? Do you think anyone will believe a shadow government comprised of vampires exists in Seattle?”

“It’s the truth,” she replied, indignation clear in her tone. “I just have to find proof.”

“Why did you think it necessary to talk to me? Did you think I’d tell you anything, especially if your muddled theories were correct?”

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what? Think?” His voice rose, and Navarro drew back. That last had felt like anger speaking. He hadn’t lost his temper in years, but the girl was too headstrong. Had he been a different sort of vampire, she could have walked into a nightmare.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I just wanted you to know…that I know.”

Navarro shook his head. No wonder she was relegated to reporting on how bored housewives spent their husbands’ money. “I’m not understanding your logic. You think I’m a vampire and conspiring to hide a killer. If that were true, shouldn’t you be worried I’ll make a meal and be done with you?”

Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s. “Well, you are a vampire—you’ve lived in this house for forty-five years, but you don’t look a day over thirty.”

That was the only part of what he’d said that she latched onto? The ridiculous woman obviously counted being right as more important than staying alive. “Again,
pardon my confusion
,” he said, letting sarcasm season his voice, “but I hardly think my real estate investments warrant the use of your venerable
investigative
skills.”

“Don’t you patronize me!” she said, her voice rising. “What is it with you men?”

“I think, Miss Coffey, you’re a rather foolish woman. No doubt you’ve heard that before. You came here without a clue of what you hoped to achieve. You simply blundered your way in.”

Her lips thinned. “Perhaps, I am an idiot, but I have a nose for a good story. Maybe I’ll turn my attention to a new development. Tell me, why would vampires seek out three fellows of the GenTech Institute and murder them? What interest would vamps have in a bunch of geneticists?”

Navarro drew in a sharp breath. What did she know?

She must have heard him. Her expression changed from indignant to thoughtful.

He waited, hoping she’d draw another irrational conclusion.

“Geneticists working on cloning,” she murmured. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and her mouth clamped shut.

Damnation!
“Yes, it’s an interesting development. And something I’m already investigating myself, Miss Coffey.”

She swallowed and lifted one finger. “I’ll just be leaving. I’ve overstayed my two minutes.”

“Come, Miss Coffey,” Navarro said, with a deep inward sigh. He really didn’t want to do this, but the chit had forced his hand. “We’ve only just become acquainted. I insist you extend your visit.”