Then she met Rule’s eyes, gave a nod, and started for the door with him beside her.
Evans used his long legs to keep up with them. “What makes you think there was magic involved? Wasn’t his throat slashed?”
“That’s all you’re getting. Oh, one more thing, Mr. Friar.” She paused, turning back to face him. “Does your daughter know you’ve sicced the press on her?”
She hadn’t looked in the file. She didn’t know for sure he’d thrown his daughter under the bus, so to speak. But her guess struck home. For the first time, emotion touched his face—a quick tightening around his eyes, his mouth.
“I have no daughter,” he said.
Chapter 8
The next morning, Lily rushed through her shower, blew enough hot air at her hair to have it mostly dry, and left the bathroom wearing a skimpy hotel towel.
In the end, they hadn’t gone to Rule’s place. The hour’s drive back and forth from San Diego didn’t make sense—as she should have known from the first. They’d gotten a room at Del Cielo’s only chain hotel, a Holiday Inn, where one of Rule’s clan had brought his car. That gave Lily time to go over the police reports—which had finally been faxed to the Unit’s main office in D.C., then forwarded to Lily via email.
Rule was already dressed. He sat at a small table by the window, his laptop open and humming. “Our friend Ray wrote an interesting article,” he said. “Not the slant I expected, or the type of bias I imagine Friar was hoping for.” Then he looked up from the screen. His eyes darkened. “Well,” he said, standing, “that’s a lovely sight.”
“Forget it,” she said briskly, heading for the entertainment unit, in whose drawers she’d stashed her underwear last night. Lily always unpacked. Suitcases were so untidy. “I need coffee. Do I smell coffee?”
“You do.” He was right behind her now. “But I know an even better way to wake up.”
She bent to open the drawer. “We had some first-class bestiality last night. That’ll just have to hold you until…oh.” Her voice went soft.
Three more pairs of new panties were jumbled up with those she’d packed. Hot pink lace. Chocolate brown satin. And pinstriped—teensy thin silver stripes on charcoal. She smiled as she pulled out the last one. “Just the thing for a professional woman.”
His arms went around her from behind. “Happy birthday to me.”
She turned her head, smiling. His face was so close…“Your birthday isn’t until November.”
“I’m celebrating early.” He nibbled at her neck.
She sighed. “I’m afraid not. I don’t have time, not with that deadline Croft handed me. I have to get dressed.”
“I know.”
“That’s hard to do unless you let go.”
“You’re creative. I’m sure you’ll think of…damn.” He let go. “I ordered breakfast. That will be it.”
She hadn’t heard anything, but a second later someone knocked on the door. “Don’t let them in,” she warned, hurriedly stepping into the new panties. He flashed a grin over his shoulder as he unfastened the privacy lock. “But I wouldn’t have to tip if…ah.” He stood so that his body blocked the opening. “Ray. Not a good time.”
“I’m here with a warning.”
“I’m listening.”
Lily scrambled into her clothes as Evans spoke. Apparently the hotel lobby was hip-deep in reporters—most notably the crews from two TV stations.
“That’s quite a turnout,” Rule said. “Slow news day?”
“Partly. Also, I wrote one hell of a good story, and the chief of police here is shooting off his mouth—talking about how Agent Yu is abusing her authority, how she’s shacking up with you. His words, not mine. The TV folks are after a shot of the two of you leaving your hotel room together, or at least a shot of the two of you in the hotel.”
“That’s a compelling visual, from their point of view. I’ll have to see if I can come up with an equally interesting one for the press conference I can see I’ll be giving soon. Thanks for the tip.”
“Can I come in? They’re going to find the right person to bribe soon to get your room number. I’d rather not be talking here in the hall when they do.”
“And how did you get my room number?” Rule asked.
“Sheer, unadulterated charm. Also a cousin with a friend who works here.”
Lily answered as she stepped into her flats. “It’s okay by me, with two conditions.” She’d long ago opted for easy with her work clothes, and owned a lot of black pants, black tees, and jackets in various colors. Made getting dressed in the morning a snap, even before coffee. She grabbed a jacket from the closet with one hand—blue, as it turned out—and the damp towel from the floor with the other.
“And those would be…?” Evans said.
Rule glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned as she tossed the towel into the bathroom and pulled the door closed. She was shrugging into her jacket as she moved to the door. “First, what’s said is off the record unless we agree otherwise. Second, I get to shake your hand.”
His hesitation was brief, but enough to confirm her guess. “Off the record works, and I have no objection to taking the hand of a lovely woman.”
Rule moved aside, opening the door wider. Lily stepped up, holding out her hand. Evans took it.
Lily smiled as she released his hand. She did so enjoy being right. “In case you’ve ever wondered, your Gift isn’t the only reason you appeal to people. I find you likeable, and your Gift doesn’t work on me.”
Another hesitation, then a small smile. “Good to know.”
Rule glanced at her.
“Charisma Gift,” she said, moving aside so Evans could enter. “Not scary strong, but enough to make him good at his job. People want to tell him things.” She looked at the reporter again. “Rule is the only one I’ll tell. Your Gift is your business. It won’t go into my official report.”
“That’s even better to know.” He came into the room, glancing around. “I smell coffee.”
“And I haven’t had any yet, but if there’s any left after I get a cup, you’re welcome to it.” Lily went to the vanity area, where a small Mr. Coffee waited. “You’re in luck. There’s almost a full pot, and I think it’s Rule’s blend, not the hotel stuff.” She poured two cups.
Evans accepted the mug, glancing at Rule. “You have your own blend?”
“Not one made just for me, no. But I usually travel with some I’ve ground myself. Organic, dark roast.”
“He’s picky. Works out well for me—I get great coffee.” Lily at last got her first swallow of coffee. She kept her eyes on Evans. “You want to tell us why you’re really here?”
“Obviously, to persuade you to say something on the record.”
“I’m more persuadable if you level with me.”
“Have you read my story?”
“I have,” Rule said. “Which is why I didn’t object to Lily’s invitation. I’d say you’re fair—more so than Friar may like—despite your own bias.”
“What bias is that?”
“You want Congress to limit the authority granted Unit agents after the Turning. I’m wondering why.”
“Backlash.” Evans paused, sipped. “This is damned good coffee, by the way. It’s already started, the murmurs against the Gifted. It’ll get worse before it gets better. Congress overstepped when it granted such broad powers to a unit comprised of Gifted agents. If they acknowledge that now, before the backlash deepens, it will protect the Unit.”
“Maybe,” Lily said, “but you didn’t answer my question.”
Evans’s eyebrows went up. “Not interested in politics, even when it’s your Unit at stake?”
Rule answered before she could. “When Lily’s on a case, she does the job. Right now you’re only interesting because you may affect the case.”
Evans pulled out a notebook. “Can I quote you?”
Rule looked at Lily. She shrugged. “On that one thing, yes. So what do you want, Evans? Unless you plan to persuade me to kick Daly’s ass and make headlines for the good of all Gifted everywhere, I don’t see why you’re here.”