"You ready to take off?" the chief asked.
"Just about."
"You want to take a hamburger for the road?"
"No thanks. Where is everyone?"
"My restaurant crew? I sent them home a while back. If Knolte and his friends want something to eat, they can fix it themselves."
"Did you want to see me about something?"
Tyler frowned. "I already said what I had to say. I went ahead and put that sheet of directions in your car just in case you change your mind and decide to take me up on my offer to use my cabin. You ought to think about it," he urged. "I can't get up there for another month, thanks to my wife's relatives. She informed me last night we have two weddings and a reunion to attend."
"Yeah, I'll think about it," he said. "Thanks for your help, Chief, and for the food and bed."
"Glad I could help," Tyler said. He unlocked the back door and stepped into the alley with John Paul.
"You take care of yourself."
"I will," he said as he opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. He noticed the folded paper the chief had placed on the
seat next to him and picked it up with the intent of handing it back.
"You sure that little girl's gonna be all right?"
That was the third time the chief had asked him that question. John Paul gave him the same answer. "She'll be okay."
He didn't believe that nonsense, not for one second, and he could tell from Tyler's expression, he didn't believe it either.
"I'll be seeing you," Tyler called, raising the spatula he was holding in farewell.
John Paul put his key in the ignition, dropped the paper on the seat, and then sat there, brooding. His conscience wouldn't quiet down. Avery had made her choice, he reminded himself. Yeah, she had let him know in no uncertain terms that she didn't want
or need him.
There was only one problem with her decision. He wanted and needed her.
He thought he'd gotten rid of his feelings years ago when disillusionment had taken root, but now he realized he'd only been
fooling himself with his hate-everyone, don't-need-anyone attitude and that he was as human and flawed as everyone else.
Who would have thought?
Did he even like Avery? Yeah, he did, he admitted. The woman was a real smart-ass. How could he not like her?
He shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred like a well-fed kitten as he put the gear into drive.
God knows he tried, but he couldn't summon up the strength to drive away. Damn it, she was making him nuts. She was just like
a chigger, itching and irritating. She wanted him to leave. Right? Hell, yes. She was sure she was going to be fine and dandy
with that super-duper team watching out for her safety… God help her.
Avery was a fighter, and she could certainly handle anything that came her way. But could she control the actions of the agents assigned to protect her? Could she prevent them from screwing things up? And while she was watching them, who would be watching her?
He put the gear back in park and turned the motor off. What the hell was he going to do?
Let the FBI worry about her. Damn right. That was definitely what he was going to do. He started the motor again, but this
time he didn't get the gearshift into drive. He sat there like a lump of ice, frozen with indecision, while the car idled.
What a game player he was turning out to be. He was now desperately trying to convince himself he didn't care what happened
to her. She made him laugh. She made him want things he thought he could never have.
Hell, she humanized him.
John Paul fought the good fight, but when all was said and done, he lost the battle. He bowed his head in submission as the truth sliced through him. Son of a bitch.
Face it, Renard. You aren't going anywhere without her.
He turned the motor off and reached for the door.
The voice stopped him. "Will you get going? Move it, Renard. I'm suffocating back here, and your sleeping bag smells like dead leaves."
He swung around. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
"Don't start with me, John Paul. Put the damn car into drive and get us out of here. Don't make me tell you again."
His smile was slow and easy. The tension eased out of his shoulders, and his stomach stopped aching. The world was suddenly right again. Avery was snarling at him like a mountain cat, definitely giving him attitude.
He started the engine and changed gears, but he didn't accelerate. "If you go with me, sugar, I'm calling the shots, and you're going to do what I tell you to do. Can you deal with that?"
She didn't hesitate in answering. "When I jumped off the fire escape ladder, I landed on the roof of your car and dented it. You deal with that."
He grinned as he drove down the alley. How could he not be crazy about her?
Chapter 28
Jilly was anxiously waiting to hear the body count. She paced around her hotel bungalow while the television, tuned
in to a local Colorado station, droned on and on, but each time that wonderful film clip showing the explosion of the house came
on, she hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed. Enthusiastically and greedily, she devoured every second of the magnificent footage.
How fortuitous that a hiker just happened to be filming the landscape at the exact second the house disintegrated. His lens had captured every bit of the back of the house. Had Jilly not been able to watch it on television, she would have been irate. Admittedly, she was still a little irritated because she had been looking forward to pushing the button, but this clip that the station kept showing over and over again was almost as good.
The phone rang just as the clip ended. She hit the mute button before she answered.
"Hello, darling."
A second's pause followed. "Did you see it on television?"
He sounded so eager to please, yet nervous at the same time. "Yes, of course I saw it. Wasn't it marvelous?"
"Yes… yes," he replied. "Two bodies so far."
"One to go," she said. "You sound nervous, darling. What's wrong?"
"I was worried that, after the fact, you might feel bad. I'm glad to know you're okay."
"Feel bad about Carrie? She ruined my life and stole my daughter from me. I'm overjoyed," she said.
"I miss you," he said. "I want-"
Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper. "I know what you want. Are you in the car now?"
"Yes," he whispered back.
"You'd better pull over," she said. And then in the most erotic detail she told him what she would do to him when they were together. His breathing amused her. The rapid panting of a dog in heat, she thought. The power she had over men excited her.
"Will you like that?" she asked breathlessly so he would think she was as out of control as he was.
And then she gave him more until he was whimpering with his need. A sudden silence followed a low groan. She knew what
was happening and smiled with satisfaction. She could have had a wonderful career doing phone sex, she thought, but she certainly wouldn't make the kind of money she wanted. Still, it was nice to know she had options.
"Are you feeling less lonely now, darling?"
"Yes," he answered with a sigh. "I'll be with you soon. I love you, Jilly."
"I know you do, darling. I love you too."
She hung up the phone and began to pace again. Would the police be able to tell who was who from what little was left of the bodies? She knew that skulls and teeth were one way of identifying victims, but what if those had also been blown to smithereens?