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But I wasn’t about to kill her.

She was coming alive, this woman, she’d been sleepwalking through a coma of a life, and now she was alive, and killing her would have been a goddamn crime. I had a new agenda I was working on, but a wonderful tiredness had me suddenly, and then I was asleep, too.

The next thing I felt was a hand gently caressing my neck, and then I heard Janet, saying, “Hey, Samson-wake up a second.”

My eyes somehow opened, and she was sitting on the edge of the bed, in a white blouse and dark skirt, smelling great, but ready for work, not for me.

I sat bolt upright, startling her a little, though she laughed.

“Hey! Hey, relax…I’m leaving for the library. Thought I’d better see if you have anywhere to be.”

I tasted my mouth; it wasn’t worth the effort. “No. No appointments…Can I just crash here?”

“Sure.” She stood, smoothed herself, looking professional and adult, whereas I felt like a kid sleeping in instead of going to school. “I’ll leave the extra key on the kitchen table, if you wanna go in or out.”

“When’ll you be home?”

“I get off at five, today. Don’t you fix supper-I will!”

“Listen-Janet…”

She was poised at the door to the kitchen, and turned to me, eyebrows arched. “Yes?”

“Tonight…We have to talk.”

Her mouth twitched with amusement. “Isn’t that usually the woman’s line?…Or maybe you just want to explain why a guy selling veterinary medicine carries a gun.”

That sucker-punched me, and I glanced over at the chair where my corduroy jacket was draped and saw the nine mil’s butt sticking up out of the pocket.

When I turned back to Janet, she’d gone.

I ran after her, bare-ass, but she was already out the kitchen door and on her way across the alley to the lot were she parked her Geo.

Over the next hour or so, I showered and made myself a little breakfast, and tried to get my thoughts together. How much did she know about me? When had she noticed the nine millimeter-just now? She sure didn’t seem worked up about it…

All the days of surveillance, and being on top of her in more ways than one, I still had no idea why anyone on the planet, much less a mogul like Jonah fucking Green, would want this sexy little librarian wasted. The only thing she was guilty of was shitty taste in men.

By late morning, I was pacing in her living room, the nine stuffed in my waistband. I’d come to a decision-I would tell Janet some kind of story that stopped well short of the truth, but would be enough to motivate her; and I would grab her and haul her ass out of here, to safety somewhere.

And I would deal with Jonah Green, and everything that meant. Killing the guy who hired you is a non-starter in my business, but then I was ready to retire again, anyway, so what the fuck.

But why wait?

The sooner I got Janet out of Homewood, the better. I would go yank her out of that library, run her back here to pick up a few things, and we’d be on the road. That was the plan. That was the new plan…

And I was just about to go out the door and head down to the street, where my rental was parked, when somebody on the other side of that door began to work a key in it.

I took a step back, and the door swung rudely open, and standing framed there, key in hand, was a young woman who was not Janet, but an attractive enough example of the female sex, even though her ragged jeans and a jean jacket and a black hip-hop t-shirt didn’t do much for me.

I knew this woman, this girl. And so do you-she was, after all, the kidnap victim who started it all.

Jonah Green’s daughter-Julie.

Eleven

I grabbed the little bitch by the arm extending the key and yanked her into the living room and hurled her across the room. Her jean jacket came off in my hand, and I discarded it like a used tissue as she did a half spin and landed rudely on the couch, opposite, breasts bobbling under the black t-shirt. A little suitcase was out in the hall, and I grabbed it and tossed it inside the apartment, and slammed the door and turned to glare at her.

But she didn’t scare easy, scrambling back off the cushions to get right in my face, holding the keys in her upraised fist like a blade. Eyes and nostrils flaring, white little feral teeth bared, she all but screamed: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The petite dark-haired beauty had a little ring in her nose now; she was packing enough piercings to set off an airport metal detector.

As would my nine millimeter automatic, the snout of which I stuck under her defiant chin as I slapped the keys rattlingly from her fist.

“You first,” I said.

That took some of the fearlessness out of her. Her eyelids were quivering and she swallowed, or tried to. “Get…get that fucking thing out of my throat, you prick.”

I did, shoving her back onto the couch with my free hand. Looming over her, keeping the nine trained on her, I paced a little area near where she sat, her arms folded tight as she looked up at me, face blank but for a crinkly chin.

“Explain yourself,” I said.

“Fuck you!..I’m visiting my sister.”

I frowned down at her. “Where?”

“Here!” Her eyes widened and tightened. “Where the hell else? She lives here!”

My eyes narrowed and tightened. “In this apartment…?”

“No, in a dumpster out back.” She unfolded her arms, leaning forward on the heels of her hands. “What the hell are you doing here, Quarry?”

I was still pointing the gun at her, but suddenly I felt way off my game. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“You’re in her apartment and you don’t know? Janet Fucking Wright!”

I squinted at her, hoping that would help; it didn’t. I could see neither a resemblance in her face, nor any sense in this situation.

“Your name is Green,” I said.

“Aren’t you the observant son of a bitch?” She sighed impatiently. “Jan doesn’t use Daddy’s name-she fucking hates Daddy, which is the one thing we have in common…Wright’s our mom’s maiden name. Late mom…”

Suddenly her face whitened, as if she’d finally noticed an asshole was pointing a gun at her.

“Oh shit,” she said, pointing a gun-like finger back at me, for nobody’s benefit in particular. “Oh hell. Oh no…”

“What?”

She was shaking her head, almost frantically. “You’re not ‘him,’ are you? You couldn’t be him…” She rolled her eyes and laughed harshly. “Oh fuck me…Jack? You’re Jack? Jack Ryan…?”

I lowered the nine a hair. “She told you about me?”

Still shaking her head, she said, “Oh Christ- you’re her white knight? Kill me. Kill me now.”

“It’s an option,” I said.

Not knowing how much trouble she was potentially in, Julie sneered up at me. “I answered your question, now you owe me a fucking answer-what the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

She had a point.

I put the gun in my waistband. I could see no reason not to level with her. More or less.

I sat next to her and said, “Your father hired me.”

She gave me a frowning sideways look, not so much disapproving as curious. “What’d he hire you for? Oh fuck…tell me it wasn’t to rough up that abusive boyfriend of hers! That prick Rick?”

I shook my head. “That was my bright idea.”

She grunted a non-laugh. “Not that Daddy would do anything that thoughtful.” Confusion colored her features. “Then why — ”

“Your father hired me to watch your sister. He didn’t say why.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Just watch her-like a P.I. or something?”

“Or something.”

A little half-hearted laugh made the cupcake breasts bounce; you could see the nipple rings outlined against the black t-shirt. “Well, I can’t say it surprises me.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you know?” She leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Sis is about to come into a good share of the family fortune.”

I said nothing.

My expression must have been talkative, though, because a faintly amused Julie Green said, “Huh…You look shocked, Quarry…I didn’t know you were the fuck shockable.”