Page 29 of Perfect Vengeance

As they exited the tunnel into New Jersey, he glanced at her, but this time amusement glimmered in his eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t have any duct tape for your smart mouth.”

“Sorry.” Nah, she wasn’t sorry at all. “It’s hard for me to imagine you doing the family thing.”

“Why?”

“Well, because…because…” She twisted her lips, struggling to find the answer to his question. When it finally hit her, she held out her hands. “Because you’re you.”

“How’s that, exactly?” He swerved to avoid another vehicle.

“Mysterious, moody, tight-lipped, and tight-a—” She clamped down a giggle. “All that testosterone in one room must be overwhelming for your poor mother.”

The SUV’s engine roared as Jack gunned it onto the ramp for the Pulaski Skyway.

“I have no doubt you’re the life of the party at your family gatherings,” he said in a tone laced with sarcasm. “Your mother and father must be very proud.”

“I wouldn’t know.” The smile on her face faded. “They’re dead.” And she was so not going deeper into any conversation about her parents. Especially not with an FBI agent.

“Sorry.” He sounded sincere.

As they headed west, commercial jetliners heading into Newark Liberty International Airport soared overhead. When she turned to follow one plane’s descent, she couldn’t stop from admiring Jack’s sternly handsome profile. “Do you ever smile?” she asked. “Other than when you crack a suspect during an interrogation under those bright lights, of course.”

“No.”

“Do you ever laugh just for enjoyment?”

“No.” He swerved through traffic and merged onto Route 280. “Do you ever stop asking inane questions?”

“Never.” She smiled. Lord, but she hadn’t had this much fun since the second grade when she teased the school bully, Jimmy Corelli, until he cried. “Bet I could make you laugh.”

“FBI agents aren’t allowed to laugh. It’s in the manual.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No.” His lips twitched.

“So, clownfish? Really?”

He snorted. “Yeah. Really.”

She snorted back. “I didn’t figure you for a tropical fish kind of guy. I see you more with a giant German shepherd, one with snapping jaws and huge fangs.”

He surprised her by uttering a genuine laugh. “My father got me started on tropical fish when I was a kid, and I got hooked on them.”

“And your fish is named John Wayne?”

“One is. The other—his girlfriend—I named Annie Oakley. My brothers and I used to watch all the old John Wayne westerns with my dad on Saturday afternoons. I actually did want a German shepherd, but since I’m never home…”

Well, dunk my head in a vat of chocolate. Maybe the man is human after all. “That’s a beautiful way to spend time with your father. You must love him very much.”

“I did. He passed away three years ago.” He exited onto the Garden State Parkway, heading north.

“I’m sorry.” His words had been laced with a hint of grief, reminding her of her own loss.

He shrugged, clearly not comfortable talking about his family. “Our ETA’s in fifteen. When we get there, I’ll make a couple passes so you can get a feel for the area. House schematics are in the back of the truck. You can study them tonight.”

Finally, they were getting down to the business that brought her one blessed step closer to concluding their pact and never seeing him again. Odd how she’d actually been enjoying their conversation.

“Whose house is it?” she asked.