She turned to partially face him. “You’re the rebels of the HDD?”
“Or the mismatched toys,” he muttered, taking out his knife and slicing her hands free. He grasped her wrists, making sure he hadn’t bruised her. Nope. Not even a red mark.
She glanced down. “You’re awfully good at binding women.”
He coughed. “If you ever forgive me and give me another chance, maybe I’ll show you just how good.” Yeah, it was a little flirty, but he’d do anything to see her smile again.
She rolled her eyes. “One thing about hating your guts is that I won’t have to put up with your lame attempts at being smooth any longer.”
“Ouch.” He stepped out of the van and walked around to her side. He might not be a profiler, but even he could tell she didn’t hate him. Oh, she was pissed off and really wanted to punch him in the face, but she trusted him at least a little or she would’ve tried to run again.
He opened her door and helped her out.
She looked around the mostly vacant parking lot. “It’s two in the morning. What happens now?”
He took her by the arm and led her to the building, heading inside and pressing the elevator button. “Now we tell Angus everything you told me.” Not much of it was helpful or had anything to do with what Isaac was planning. But Pippa had been able to put into words some of Isaac’s philosophies and favorite Bible passages. Most had to do with fire and righteousness.
The dog met them at the basement entrance.
“Roscoe,” Pippa cried out, relief in her voice. She bent down to hug the pooch.
He yipped and licked her face, sniffing out her pockets.
She snuggled into him as if searching for any comfort she could find. “I don’t have any biscuits right now.” His fur muffled her voice.
Mal looked up and met Force’s gaze. “Pippa? We should tell your good buddy Angus everything.”
Pippa stiffened and then stood, raising her head as she caught sight of Force. “Angus, you’re as big a dickhead as this asshole next to me.” Her eyes flashed fire, and she put her hands on her hips. “The only redeeming quality you have, and I meanthe only, is your dog.”
Force’s lower lip twitched. “Oddly enough, you aren’t the first woman to say that to me.”
Mal gestured toward the conference room. “We can chat in there.”
“No.” Force moved toward them just as Wolfe exited the small doorway to the interrogation rooms. “Ms. Smith is going to chat with Wolfe and me in one of the rooms. You can type up your report in the meantime, and we’ll compare notes.” Force looked at the scarred desks. “We should probably get some computers. All right. Find a notepad and write things up.”
Mal moved in front of Pippa. “No.”
She pushed him aside. “I don’t need your protection.” Even so, she craned her neck to look at Wolfe around Mal.
Mal partially turned. Wolfe wore his usual ripped clothing and leather jacket, his facial scruff almost a beard, his eyes carefully blank. He’d scare the shit out of anybody with half a brain. “She isn’t going in there with you,” Mal snapped, fighting the urge to grab Pippa and run.
Wolfe tucked his thumbs into his jeans. “Why not? Is she lying about something?”
“No,” Pippa said, partially turning to face the ex-soldier. “This is all so stupid. None of you gets to be mad about me lying. You all lie for a living.”
She had a point.
Wolfe grinned. “I don’t lie. These guys do, and they’re good at it, but I never lie.”
Pippa studied him. “Fine. Do you plan on torturing me?”
“Nope,” Wolfe said. He scratched his ear. “Which would be good for you if I never lie. But you don’t know if I was lying when I said I never lie. If I was, then I lie, and I might be lying now.”
Pippa cut Mal a look. “Is he nuts?”
Mal wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. “The jury is out on that question.”
Pippa cleared her throat. “Is that a kitten in his pocket?”
