by Harper Allen
Confusion overlaid his frown. She sighed.
“Hangar 61. When DeWitt’s in his cups he’s convinced I based it on a real experience. He’s as cynical as they come on any other subject under the sun, but he’s a UFO nut. He’s almost certain I was abducted by aliens at some point and had a microchip implanted in my neck. When I phoned him, I strung him along with some inane excuse about strange lights in the sky over Albuquerque for the past few nights, and told him I thought that concrete had been intended as a landing pad, but that something had gone wrong. I asked him if he could find out when it had been poured and told him he’d probably run into a government cover-up, so to keep it on the QT.”
“He bought that?”
“He was thrilled,” she retorted. “And if anyone can get that information for us, it’s DeWitt. It was a calculated risk, Connor, but not much of one. You said it yourself this afternoon—it’s hard to just sit around doing nothing while Jansen could be getting closer every day to finding us.”
“That’s why I’m not going to keep sitting around,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ll keep my cell on and if you learn anything from your wacko friend, call me. In the note I’m leaving for Del I’ll tell him to do the same if Jess ever irons out the damn bugs in his search programs.”
“He said he didn’t think it was a bug,” she argued halfheartedly. “I’m no expert but couldn’t he be right? Isn’t it possible that Jansen took the precaution of firewalling—” She stopped. “What note? What do you mean I can call you when DeWitt gets back to me? Where are you going?”
“To Albuquerque,” he said shortly, turning from her. His gaze lit on a collection of small change on the top of the dresser, and absently he scooped up the coins and dropped them into his jeans pocket. “I won’t need a razor,” he murmured. “The scruffier I look the easier it’ll be to fit in.”
“Albuquerque?” She stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “No.”
“Tess, I’m in a hurry.” He tried to sidestep her. “Billy Tahe’s going into the city this morning to deliver some of his sister’s turquoise-and-silver work to a gallery there, and Joseph said he’d be stopping at the gate on his way to the highway. I’m going to see if I can catch a ride with him.”
She didn’t move. A muscle moved in his jaw. “For God’s sake,” he growled. “Daniel had the right idea. Innocent or guilty, MacLeish is the key to all this and there’s a good chance he’s hiding out in the area he knows best. If I can hook up with Daniel, that doubles our hopes of finding him.”
“A plus B equals C,” Tess agreed thinly. “I guess I can understand how you might see that as the logical course of action. Have you considered whether Arne Jansen might be operating on the same logic?”
His mouth tightened as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look, Billy wants to be well on his way before dawn. I don’t really have the time to justify my reasons right—”
“Dammit, Virgil!” Even as he started to maneuver her aside, Tess grabbed the front of his sweatshirt. She gave it a tug forceful enough that he had to move in to keep his balance.
“Jansen’s people aren’t looking for Daniel! He’s safe enough wandering around asking questions about a man who’s got the same tattoo as he does, but you’ll be dead before nightfall if you go to Albuquerque, and you know it. ‘Armed and dangerous.’ ‘Take down by any means possible.’ Remember those phrases? Jess says he’s confident he can get the information we’re looking for if you’ll only give him time, so—”
“So what?” Connor broke in. “So let Crawford take care of everything? Hell, all he managed to accomplish tonight was to hack his way into my juvenile record, and if he could do that, what’s to stop Jansen and his mobster pal Vincenzi from taking it one step further and finding out about the Double B? Maybe you think Jess is the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I can’t pin my hopes on him coming up with the answers we need.”
“That’s really what this is about, isn’t it?” She stared at him, taking in the furious heat behind the cool gray of his eyes, the rigidity of his posture. “I don’t believe this. You’re acting like a damn teenager, for God’s sake. This has turned into a competition between you and Jess, hasn’t it?”
She released her grip on his shirt. “Maybe the two of you should have had it out, thrown a few punches,” she said with flat disapproval. “Maybe that would have gotten whatever problem you have with him out of your system. But I doubt it. It’s driving you crazy that you’re not in control of this situation, and you’re willing to take any insane chance to prove to yourself that you’re still handling everything. Well, you’re not. Nobody can handle everything and some things can’t be controlled, so get used to it.”
“Control?” His tone was thin. “Hell, lady, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t want control, I’d like to let go of it completely. And my problem isn’t Crawford, it’s you.”
“I’m your problem?” Frustration boiled over in her, and she threw her next words at him like a challenge. “Then the solution’s right under your nose, Virgil. Lose that damned control of yours for once and deal with your problem!”
Crystal-gray eyes blinked at her. Then Connor took a deep breath and scrubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. “It’s not that simple,” he said, starting to turn away.
“It’s not that complicated,” she snapped.
Before he could take a step, her hand was on his biceps and spinning him back to face her. She grabbed his shirt again, pulled him closer, and let go of his arm long enough to wrap hers around his neck.
“For crying out loud, Virgil, you don’t have to live up to your name all the time,” she breathed, bringing his mouth down to hers.
He stiffened. For a second his lips remained unresponsive. Then his hands came suddenly up to cup her face.
“You’re probably right,” he muttered against her mouth.
Without warning, his mouth opened against hers. Tess felt a white-hot heat race through her, electrifying all her senses—no, not electrifying them, she thought disjointedly, more like melting them. Overloading them.
In a moment she wasn’t going to be able to pull away, she told herself. If she was going to do it, she had to do it now.
She almost didn’t make it. And as Connor lifted his head and directed a slightly unfocused gaze on her, she almost changed her mind.
But not quite.
“Where’d you learn to make love?” Her voice sounded shaky. She tried to counteract it with a frown. “Come on, Virgil. Where? From whom?”
His eyes lost their unfocused look. He narrowed them at her, his lashes almost obscuring their gray gleam. “What is this, twenty questions?”
“No, just one. Where did you learn to make love?”
He shook his head. “Hell, I can’t remember. It was a long time ago, dammit. I was fifteen, she was eightee—”
“You didn’t,” she interrupted. “You don’t know the first thing about it—in fact, you probably think of it as one of those unnecessary frills like putting furniture in your apartment. It was the same when you kissed me at the motel. You’re sexy as hell, Virgil, but you come on like gangbusters.”
His gaze widened fractionally before narrowing again. “So sue me, honey,” he said with a tight smile. “I do everything like gangbusters.”
His breath was shallower than normal, and his hands were open at his sides, almost as if he could still feel her skin against his palms. This was what he’d looked like fifteen years ago, Tess thought suddenly. This was how a younger Virgil Connor would have looked—edgy, dangerous, ready for action.
She was pretty sure she could take him on.
“Well, here’s a tip,” she informed him. “Women like a little soft music, a romantic buildup, maybe some flirting first…but we can live without all that once in a while. What most of us draw the line at is the hundred-watt bulbs overhead.” She saw the slow grin that lifted a corner of his mouth and felt her own lips curve into a small smile.
<
br /> “Hit the lights, Virgil,” she said softly. “Then let’s see if we can slow you down a little.”
Even before she’d finished speaking, his hand had gone to the switch on the wall beside them, leaving the lamp on the bedside table as the room’s only illumination. Its subdued glow was just enough to take the shadows from the room, and it was just enough to let her see the gleam of heat in his eyes as he reached for her.
“Slow,” he said hoarsely. “I gotta remember that.”
His mouth covered hers, and as Tess’s lips parted she felt the tip of his tongue flick against hers and withdraw. It moved past her lips again, this time deeper, and a ribbon of sensation curled languidly along her spine. She arched her back slightly, moving more completely into his arms.
Without warning, his kiss deepened and his palms moved from her shoulders to slide through the short tendrils of her hair. His tongue teased hers, moved past it, licked against the softness of her inner mouth.
Slowly.
She’d made a big mistake, Tess thought in dazed consternation. She’d remembered why Connor had been sent to the Double B all those years ago, but she hadn’t stopped to think about why he’d been so good at being a bad boy. He hadn’t walked away a winner from the confrontations of his past by rushing blindly into them—he’d studied his opponents’ timing, he’d learned their weaknesses, and then he’d moved in.
He was doing that to her right now. She was loving it. Slow heat spilled through her, touching her breasts, sizzling down her thighs, making her gasp.
“Too fast?” Connor murmured against her mouth. “Because I can rein myself in a little more if you—”
“You win.” Another trickle of heat ran through her and she bit her lip. “If I cry uncle will you play fair?”
He shook his head, his gaze holding hers. “I lost this fight to you in a run-down dump of a motel four nights ago.” He paused, as if rethinking what he’d said. “Hell, I lost it at that diner. I was just too dumb to know what had hit me.”
Through the thin material of her T-shirt she felt his biceps tighten against the side of her breast where his arm was encircling her. He looked at her with sudden uncertainty.
“I want to make love with you, Tess. I know I came on strong a few minutes ago, but I wasn’t thinking this was just sex. I don’t want you ever to believe that.”
He’d used the word love, Tess thought slowly. He hadn’t said he loved her, hadn’t even said he thought he was falling in love with her, but he’d used the word love. A piece of the wall that surrounded Virgil Connor had just fallen away.
And the last of her own doubts had vanished.
“I…I don’t,” she said unevenly. “I know we both want this, Connor.”
As if he’d only been waiting for her acceptance his mouth came down on hers once more, and this time it wasn’t too fast, wasn’t too slow, wasn’t anything less than perfect, Tess thought. At some point her T-shirt came off, and within seconds after it did she’d helped him strip his sweatshirt over his head, both garments falling unheeded to the floor.
Still kissing her, Connor reached around one-handedly to unfasten her bra. Even as his fingers met the tiny hooks, she felt him freeze.
He raised his head and swore softly under his breath. “Dammit, that’s the kitchen phone,” he muttered. He looked at her, and in the light from the lamp she saw the hard flush of color on his cheekbones, the strong pulse at the side of his throat. “Let it ring,” he said huskily.
“We can’t.” She shook her head, fighting the impulse to go along with his suggestion. “It’s going to wake up the whole house, Connor. Maybe not Joey, but Del and Jess. And I don’t want them to—I’d rather they didn’t—”
He touched her lips. “I get what you’re trying to say, honey,” he said with a wry grin.
He was out of the room before the third ring, and, stopping only to pull her shirt on, Tess followed him. As quick as she was, as she entered the kitchen, he was already hanging up the receiver. He turned to her, a bemused expression on his face.
“High squeaky voice, called me ‘dear boy’?” he asked.
“That would be DeWitt. Correction—that would be DeWitt just prior to passing out. I told you, when he’s in this state he loves talking to me about his pet theories. I suppose that’s why he phoned back so soon?” Something in his attitude sharpened her attention. “Don’t tell me he already had an answer for us.”
“A partial answer. You were right, he’s good.” Connor raised an eyebrow. “Your Winston can’t tell us yet the exact time that cement was poured, but according to a worker it happened Sunday afternoon. Apparently the construction company has run into vandalism problems that delayed this job, and they’re working weekends and overtime to make the project deadline.”
“But Sunday was the night everything happened at the safe house.” Disappointment filled her. “Winston’s information doesn’t narrow it down much more than it already was. I’d hoped to hear Tuesday or Wednesday, so we’d only have a two-or three-day time frame to deal with.”
“Oh, our time frame got narrower. It’s now down to hours, not days,” he said absently. He caught her frowning glance and came toward her. “Sorry, I’m doing that control thing, aren’t I? Plus I wish DeWitt had chosen a more opportune moment to relay his news to us.”
His arm around her shoulders, he steered her in the direction of the bedroom door. “Because of the vandalism, the construction company hired a security guard to watch the site, and because of the deadline, starting Monday a second crew of workers began pulling night shifts. DeWitt’s trying to find out when that security guard went on duty Sunday. That’s important, because from that point on the site was never left unattended.”
She looked up at him swiftly. “But that means—” She stopped as the full realization hit her. Connor nodded.
“Yeah. That means Leroy’s body was dumped sometime between the time he shot Paula and killed Danzig and the time the guard arrived.” His smile was tight. “Jansen had him eliminated right after he did his dirty work for him at the safe house.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Funny thing.” From his position in front of the cookstove Del glanced over the rim of his coffee mug at Connor and Tess. “All this good, clean country air, and you two city types look plain worn-out. You’d think the pair of you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night.”
“I don’t know about anyone else, but the damn crickets kept me up,” Connor said blandly. “How ’bout you, Tess?”
She came close to choking on the mouthful of coffee she’d just swallowed. “Me, too.” She didn’t meet either his gaze or Del’s. “Loud crickets.”
“They can be bothersome.” Del nodded. “I don’t find them a problem when Greta’s away, but the moment she’s back home the darn things just won’t let us sleep at night.”
Del Hawkins was as bad as the bad boys whose lives he turned around at the Double B, Tess thought weakly, hoping the burning flush she could feel mounting her cheeks wasn’t too obvious. And Connor was no angel, either.
Not that she really had a problem with his misbehavior, she admitted, hiding her face in her coffee cup as she felt the heat in her cheeks intensify. Not right now…and certainly not last night.
After DeWitt’s phone call they’d picked up where they’d left off. She’d worried briefly that the news the gossip hound had passed on to them might take first priority in Connor’s mind, but any fears on that score had been quickly assuaged. All through the night he’d made it very apparent that she wasn’t just a priority with him, but that as far as he was concerned the rest of the universe had ceased to exist for the hours they’d spent in each other’s arms.
He’d made love to her three times. He’d driven her out of her mind three times. And she’d done the same for him, she thought in glowing satisfaction. Only minutes after he’d walked her back to her bedroom and had returned to his own room, she’d heard Del going downstairs and heading out to start the dawn chore
s.
The rancher’s next words mirrored her train of thought.
“I usually drive up to the gate of a morning, check in with Joseph to see if there was any excitement during the night,” he drawled. Tess was almost certain the double entendre had been accidental, but she kept her mug to her lips, anyway. “He said you’d been thinking of hitching a ride to Albuquerque with Billy this morning, but that you must have changed your mind.”
Connor met the older man’s keen gaze. “It was a damn fool idea,” he conceded.
“Foolish but understandable.” Del rubbed the back of his neck. “You never were the type to like sitting around.” He set his mug on the counter. “I’ve got to go into town this morning, but while I’m in Last Chance you could do me a favor. It’d get you off the property for a while, at least.”
“With you gone that just leaves Jess here as any kind of protection for Tess and Joey.” Connor grimaced. “Which means no protection at all. Not that Jess didn’t learn to handle a rifle like the rest of us did when we were teens here, but ever since he woke up he’s been sitting at the library table in the back room, lost in cyberspace. I appreciate what he’s trying to do, Del,” he added quietly. “I just wouldn’t feel easy asking him to take point duty as well.”
“Tess and Joey could go with you. When I went up to the gate this morning I meant to give Joseph some antibiotic for one of his great-grandmother’s sheep that has an infected ear, but I forgot. If you could drop the medicine off at Joanna Tahe’s clinic she’ll get it to Alice. It might be interesting for Joey to get his first look at the Dinetah.”
“Interesting for me, too,” Tess said with a smile. “Naturally I’ve visited the Navajo Nation in the past, but I’m not familiar with it. We’d be safe enough there for a few hours, wouldn’t we?”
“Safer than most places. Joanna’s brother, Matt, is Tribal Police. His force keeps a pretty close eye on strangers coming in and going out.” Connor nodded. “I’ll give Jess my cell number in case DeWitt phones with any new information, and Paula said not to expect a call from her until tonight at the earliest.”