“Soap-opera tragic.”Rowan gave her hair a few swipes with the brush before grabbing a scrunchie and tossing the whole damn mess into a ponytail.“I’ll pay you five bucks to get rid of this guy.”
“What, miss all the fun and your inevitable discomfort?No way.You’re stuck with this one, honey.Now, come on, before your dad gets out the shotgun and scares him off.”But Hil’s eyes were a little too bright.The crackling acerbic wash of worry spread out from her in waves.Rowan stopped and held out her arms.
The two of them stood, hugging each other, for a long time.“I was really worried about you, kiddo,” Hilary said finally, her voice suspiciously thick.
Rowan’s throat was tight.“Thanks.I’m fine, but… thanks.”
“Don’t you dare leave me, Ro.”
“I won’t.”Rowan took a deep breath.Her stomach settled and her head cleared.“I promise.”
“Good,” Hilary sniffed, untangling herself firmly and decisively.She stepped back and ran a critical eye down Rowan’s outfit, wiping at the tear-tracks on her pale cheeks.“Now do something with your hair, for the love of God, and hurry up.I’ll delay him as long as I can.”
That made Rowan laugh.“Not interested.Why don’t you see if you can find out what branch of the military he served in?”
“Absolutely,” Hil said over her shoulder as she exited.“Don’t take too long.I’m hungry, and supper’s almost ready.”
CHAPTERTEN
Things were going well.
The Major was deep in a rendition of the Bulge, German troop movements and Allied casualties, while Delgado nodded and made small remarks.It was standard interrogation technique, listening, making the subject feel important.Most people loved to talk, either about themselves or about their obsessions.
The other woman—Hilary Baum, a reporter and Rowan’s friend—had gone upstairs to wake the lady up after fixing Delgado with a piercing, dark gaze.Delgado, aware he was being measured, suffered it.He’d expected Rowan would retreat after the morning’s events.He’d even expected the Major’s war stories and casual measuring questions—where had Delgado served, what branch of the military, commanding officers, what type of discharge?
He answered carefully, sticking to the truths which wouldn’t raise any more questions.The Major didn’t need to know he’d been tipped straight into Sigma because of his scores.They exchanged stories about basic training, and the Major finally gave him a bottle of beer and settled into a lecture on military history.
Hilary came back, barefoot, smooth dark hair shining as she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and helped herself to a cracker from the platter the Major had set out.“She’ll be down in a sec.I made her comb her hair.”
“Miracles do happen,” the Major said with a sly glance at Delgado.
Christ, he thinks I’m eligible.So does this other woman, apparently.I’m passing their tests, but when she comes downstairs, how am I going to handle it?He took a sip of beer.“I suppose she was pretty upset,” he offered.
“She seems to have recovered.”Hilary actually giggled.She was a very pretty woman, a smooth façade of professionalism over a type of boiling sensuality he would have found pleasant if he hadn’t been waiting for… what?What was he waiting for, exactly?“So, why didn’t anyone call the police?That guy could be abducting someone else by now.”
Delgado almost choked on his beer.She’s smart.He set the bottle down.“Well,” he said, “I didn’t get the license plate number, so I didn’t have anything useful to tell them.”Not that I’d go anywhere near a police station.His gaze met the Major’s.
The older man was studying him closely.“Well, we didn’t get a license plate number either, and we didn’t really see anything important.I’m just glad Rowan’s okay.”There was some other message in the man’s green gaze, but Delgado couldn’t decipher it.Maybe it was the residue of thepush, making the Major feel chummy with him.
“That’s the truth,” Hilary said, taking another cracker.“If anything happened to Rowan, I’d bereallyupset.”She gave him a meaningful glance, then bounced up to her feet, crossing to the fridge.“Do you have any white wine, Henry?”
“Bottom shelf,” the Major replied.He was still trying to signal something to Delgado, who didn’t have a clue.His cell phone buzzed in his breast pocket.
He extracted it and glanced at the number.
Shit.“Excuse me a second,” he said, rising smoothly from the chair.“I have to take this.”
“No problem,” the Major said politely, still trying to telegraph something with wiggling eyebrows.What the hell is going on now?
He walked into the living room and flipped the phone open.“Delgado,” he said cautiously.
“Move it up, Del.”Henderson sounded exhausted.“They found the haunted house.Cath and Zeke barely made it out.They’re doing sweeps.What are you doing in there?”
“Haven’t made secondary contact yet,” Delgado said quietly.“How much time do I have?”
A short pause, sound of fingers on a keyboard.That would be Yoshi.Then Henderson’s tone changed.“None.They’re moving in.Christ, Delgado, get out of there.”
Not without her.“We’ll see.”
