by Rachel James
Sonny’s lips tilted. The woman thought she and Logan were an item. If only, her inner voice chided.
Logan took her arm, sidestepping the line. “Do you remember all the guests’ names?” he queried as they walked.
A mischievous glint surfaced in Sonny’s eyes. “Well, I am the best.”
His mouth twitched with amusement, but he didn’t offer a verbal retort. Instead, they strode the portico, coming to a halt at a pair of double swinging doors. Once there, she threw up her hand, signaling him back.
“Give me a minute to speak with Dick. The mess on the mesa needs to be cleaned up stat. The trails open at two on Sunday, and we can’t have people seeing broken tables, bullet shells, and shattered glass while they’re hiking.”
Logan nodded, holding the door open for her. Appreciating the chivalry, Sonny felt compelled to lighten the mood between them.
“Since I didn’t say it before, welcome to The Sanctuary. If you keep walking along this corridor, you’ll see signs pointing to the registration desk. When you get there, ask for Jessie and tell her to give you the cactus suite, per my orders.”
“Is the room next to your suite?”
Sonny gave a sarcastic laugh. “I never allow handsome men to stay in the suite next to mine. If I did, the gossips would have a field day. Not to mention Ned and Uncle Brad would come knocking on your door, asking what your intentions towards me might be.”
His lips tilted upwards. “I’m sure I can convince them my intentions are honorable,” he spouted.
“I’m sure you could, but we are not going down that rabbit hole anytime soon.”
“Too bad. I fancy sleeping next to you, even if there’s a brick wall between us.”
Sonny laughed. “Sorry. You’ll just have to grin and bear it. We’ll meet for dinner tonight, though. I’ll introduce you to the family then.”
“Looking forward to it.”
He signaled her inside again, and Sonny went, surprised when he slipped his fingers through her gloved ones. Her heartbeat quickened as she sensed the touch of his fingers through the fabric.
“Don’t you ever take a hint?” she asked, as he strolled alongside her.
“About what?”
“About me going my way, and you going yours.”
“I can’t protect you unless we’re both going the same way.”
“You are not sleeping in my suite, Logan.”
“Ah, my first name at last,” he teased. “I thought you’d never stop thinking of me as Agent Reed.”
“It was a slip of the tongue,” she countered.
He made no comment, just grinned at her, and she wondered how one man could be so baffling—dripping with arrogance one minute, soft gentleness the next. It was a deadly combination, and she could only hope his stay at the retreat would be extremely short. In fact, she’d leave no stone unturned in her effort to make it so.
Shaking his fingers loose, she led him through the kitchen area, through a crowded dining hall, and then followed the signs marked “Security Offices.” A minute later, they stopped at a double glass door with a digital box on the wall beside it. Sonny punched in a passcode, and the doors slid back quickly. Stepping in, she shivered. She hated how cold this room had to stay. Her gaze swept the massive command center. She also hated all the surveillance cameras, console stations, and monitoring equipment. She didn’t like spying on people. She did enough of that when reading clients. This technology was different, though. It was secretive and intrusive, which her father deemed necessary for the safety of the guests. At least when we spy, we have a client’s permission, her ego advised.
“You could’ve told me your father owned Fort Knox,” Logan said softly in her ear.
“And ruin any chance of earning your respect?” she shot back. Her gaze skimmed the room, searching for the lieutenant.
“You earned that up on the mesa. Now, where the hell is the lieutenant?”
“Good God, Sonny, what happened to you?” The voice was booming, and Sonny whirled, spotting Dick Cutter’s giant frame barreling towards them. When he reached her side, he took one look at her disheveled appearance and cursed. “What the hell have you been doing? Rolling around in the mud?”
Sonny started to say, “Dodging bullets,” but had no chance as Logan stepped forward, offering his hand.
“Agent Logan Reed—out of Meta Corps, New York City branch. You’ve a serious problem on your hand, Lieutenant. Someone just tried to kill Sonny up on the mesa.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Standing in front of a computer monitor, David Blake adjusted his headset.
“You’re sure Sonny was the target and not this agent fellow?” he asked, glancing at Dick Cutter’s face on the screen. “What kind of credentials has he shown?”
The lieutenant made a face. “All the proper ones. Plus, I’ve spoken with his boss in New York City, who confirms he and Sonny are working on a Meta Corps case together. According to him, the man’s a goddamn legend.”
“Well, he better be, or I’ll see him rot in hell,” David said. He flicked a switch and then lowered his sturdy frame onto a standing chair. “Keep me in the loop, Dick. And keep an eye on Sonny and her companion—nothing obvious.”
“Her companion won’t like it. He notices everything.”
“Well, don’t rock the boat unless you have to,” David said, flicking off the monitor. He sat for a moment, wondering what his next plan of action should be. He checked his watch. Ned was on his way. He didn’t have much time to load the stolen disc into the computer and passcode it for Sonny.
Hitting the keyboard, he brought up the “load” icon and began loading the disc. When it finished, he programmed it with a key code and then secured it with a fail-safe subroutine. He’d make damn sure no one could delete the program before Sonny saw it. A series of back loops followed the first loop. It was clear he had seriously miscalculated Ned’s ability to hide in plain sight, but he would soon rectify that error.
“You crazy bastard ... Where’s the disc?”
The words ripped through the air, startling David. He swung on his chair, spotting the knife in Ned’s hand immediately. He grimaced.
“Killing me won’t get you the disc, you bastard. I’ve sent it so far into cyberspace, it’ll take ten teams of computer hackers to retrieve it.”
Ned’s face clouded with a rage that shocked David. “If you think I’m going to let you destroy everything I’ve built the last ten years, you’re a fucking lunatic.” In the next instant, he moved, bringing up the knife as he came.
Whirling on his chair, David attempted to flee, but before he could make it to his feet, a sharp, burning pain erupted in the middle of his back and trickled upward. It ended with a blinding explosion across his lower neck. He reached up and back. When his fingers encircled the stem of the knife, he attempted to pull it out; however, Ned reached out and plunged the knife deeper into the confines of his back.
Drained of air, his lungs shut down, and a blinding flash of pinpricks skewered his eyelids. Soon, like a balloon deflating, his head sank onto the keyboard. He struggled for control and forced one last conscious thought. Touch the knife, Sonny.
• • •
Leaning against the doorjamb, Logan studied the woman crossing the carpet. She was like a sleek tiger, silently stalking its prey one minute, happily eating it the next. Right now, she was standing on tiptoe, opening a skylight, and her silhouette was so mesmerizing that Logan’s blood stirred unexpectedly. He banished the desire to his “don’t go there” file.
Sunrays filtered through the room quickly, bouncing off a half-mirrored ceiling. “The cactus suite,” she had called it when they had entered. The name suited it. And he was sure she thought it fit his prickly demeanor perfectly. Even now he saw the hint of a smile on her face as she moved back across the room. She glanced at his change in jeans.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor or nurse? We have a working clinic on site.”
“I don
’t do doctors anymore,” he said firmly.
“Yes, well then, did you find everything you needed in the bathroom?” she asked. “Neosporin? Bandages? I see the jeans fit.”
“Yes,” he stated, glancing down at the denim. “Although one wonders whose jeans they are.” He glanced up. “An old boyfriend’s?”
“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, deflecting his question with a question. “Something stronger than tea or coffee?”
He stifled an urge to chuck her nose playfully. “Whiskey?” he queried. He dug a cigarette from his chest pocket with a grin. The match sizzled with a flare, reflecting in baby-blue eyes. The cigarette was immediately snatched from his fingers and put out.
“The Sanctuary is a no-smoking zone,” Sonny said. “How about a martini, shaken, not stirred?” she teased. “Isn’t that what James Bond drinks when on assignment?”
“Not this Bond,” he muttered.
Sonny waved her hand airily. “The bar’s over there. Help yourself. I’ll be back in about an hour. I have a meeting with Daddy.”
“I’ll go with you. I’d like to meet the genius.”
“It’s going to be a boring meeting,” Sonny emphasized.
“I like boring; in fact, I thrive on boring.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Logan.”
“Good, because I loathe babysitting.”
A sigh greeted his ears. “I’m not going to get rid of you, am I?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
With a sudden bolt, she fled past Logan and out the front door. Left behind, Logan cursed her dashing stride. Just when his thigh showed signs of improvement, she was rushing him around like a bat out of hell. He took off after her racing figure.
Twenty steps later, he caught up to her in the first-floor stairwell. Side by side, they rounded a corner and then dashed across a footbridge into a maze of half-grown fruit trees. From there, they sprinted onto a sidewalk in front of a small-framed bungalow.
Nearing the door, Logan pulled Sonny behind him and took the lead. He needed time to scope things out before they charged in like elephants on a rampage. However, the mouse thwarted him by passing his shoulder and entering a passcode into a panel on the wall. When the door didn’t open, her brow furrowed.
“That’s odd. It’s not taking my passcode.”
“No emergency override?”
Her face relaxed. “God, you’re right.” She pressed a small spot on the wall. A cement panel slid back, revealing a red “emergency” button. She hesitated before pushing it, chewing on her lower lip. “I hate to do this. It will signal Dick and the security team, but after all that’s happened today, I think Dick will forgive me.” She reached for the button; however, Logan’s quick grasp of her elbow forestalled her.
“How many doors to the room?” he queried.
“Only this front one. Daddy’s bungalow is a security-based computer complex. If he’s in there, he won’t leave any other way.”
“Let me go first,” Logan advised, stepping in front of her and lifting his pant leg. He took his gun from its holster and then withdrew a moon clip from his jacket pocket. Slapping the clip into place, he turned, signaling Sonny. “No heroism once we get inside,” he warned.
Her answer was a dubious look. “I’m no hero. Aren’t all Meta Corps agents?”
“Hell no,” he quipped. He coiled himself, ready to spring as her fingers hit the button, followed by her passcode. The door sliced open with a rapid whoosh, and Logan dove through first. He skidded to a halt, blinded by a flashing strobe light ricocheting across the walls and floor. Its garish hue changed the furniture assembled into eerie spectral goblins. The giant computer screen on the north wall hummed like the ceaseless hum of traffic. Below the screen, draped across the console keyboard, Logan spied an inert figure.
“Dear God!” The mouse’s cry was shocked as she pitched herself from behind him. “Daddy!”
Logan jerked her back. “Stay put!”
She squirmed, attempting to break his viselike hold on her wrist. “Let go! I can help him. I can touch the knife.”
“Touch a piece of evidence? Not while I’m here to see it, you won’t.” Logan attempted to haul her back, but she evaded his grasp.
“You don’t understand. I can tell who did this!”
“Touching the knife will contaminate the scene, and I can’t allow that at the moment.”
She ignored him, snatching off her gloves and reaching for the knife. Logan reached for her hand at the same time. Their fingers collided at the same moment she touched the knife.
Familiar shock waves shook his frame, and in one brief instant, she had hurled them into a mysterious ripple of moving images. A sudden vision of two bodies entwined in heated sex washed through his mind; however, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. In seconds, he was moving again, whipped into a second vision. The vision took a moment to settle, and when it did, he was once again studying solid images through a plate-glass window.
An eerie feeling stole over him as he spotted a woman in a chair, wearing a green headset, and not much else. She was young and beautiful, with a figure most women dreamed of, and the glow saturating her face was totally mesmerizing. And then the image was yanked from his mind, and he felt himself traveling again. This time, he saw a green door with the word “Pandora” scrawled on it. And then he was moving again.
He came back to reality with a walloping jolt, clutching the mouse’s hand, and then, like before, he heard her tortured gasps.
“Sonny!”
“Still here,” she said.
He dropped her hand quickly. “What the hell was that?” he asked. “The couple was having amazing sex.”
He heard a gasp. “You saw a couple having sex?”
“Yes. Didn’t you?”
“No. I saw a young woman participating in some kind of therapy session.” She gave him a sideways squint. “Are you sure you saw a couple?”
“I know what I saw. I saw the couple first, the therapy session next, and then a green door with ‘Pandora’ plastered on it last.”
She gave him an enigmatic stare, and he returned her look with a grunt. And then she was lifting her hand to her nose. When she found it free of blood, she commented, “No nosebleed this time.”
Logan ignored her words, his mind jumping back to the figure at the console. “How long before your security team arrives?” he asked.
“Couple of minutes.”
Logan gazed at the motionless figure. “Can you connect the images? Or what the word Pandora might mean?”
“N-no.”
“If you touch the knife again, would we see the same progression of images?”
“What?” Her squawk was horror-stricken. “My father’s been stabbed, and you’re wondering whether we can go back in and look at the images more closely? Don’t be such a bastard!”
“Humor me. Can the same images be recreated at a different moment in time? Or is it one per customer?
“Depending on how important they are, they’ll resurface, but maybe not in the same order as before.”
“Good.” Logan leaned over and inspected the body. He felt for a pulse and found none.
“The killer’s close by,” Sonny stated, shivering. “I can feel it.”
“Man or woman?”
“Unclear. The energy’s fading.”
Logan swung from the console. “Do you trust me, Sonny?”
“I think so …Yes, I do.”
“The less the police know about your vision, the better—at least for the time being.”
Sonny shivered at his pronouncement. “We can’t keep the knife a secret from Dick. We’ve contaminated the crime scene. Besides, our fingerprints are all over the handle.”
“Right now, honesty is not the best policy.”
Her second shiver had him suppressing one of his own. “What is the meaning of the green door?” she asked. “I didn’t see it.”
“Good question,” Logan said. �
�A better one is why did I see it and you didn’t?”
Their gazes locked as she donned her gloves again. Logan took a step towards her.
“Promise me you’ll do as I say and stay mum on the vision,” he said. He saw her nod with a resigned sigh. His sigh matched hers. “Thank God your security staff knows you. They’ll accept any story you present them with.”
“I don’t lie to my security staff,” Sonny said tartly. “And they don’t jump to conclusions until they’ve investigated every incident thoroughly.”
Logan’s mouth dipped into a lopsided grin, but before he could offer his retort, she added, “Would this be a good time to tell you that the note on the back of the Lovers card warned me that my life was in danger?”
Logan’s head whipped around. “Christ! I ought to kill you myself for withholding that piece of information from me.” He came to life, taking hold of her arm. She balked at the manhandling.
“Daddy’s note said to trust no one. And ‘no one’ included you. For all I knew, you could’ve been sent to kill me!”
“If I was sent to kill you, you would’ve been dead ten seconds after we met.”
“I believe you.”
Her quiet remark deflated his anger; however, in the next instant, a booming voice brought it back up.
“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”
CHAPTER NINE
Gun outstretched, Lieutenant Cutter ducked through the front door and then into the room.
“Don’t shoot us, Dick.”
Sonny stepped forward, and seeing her distraught expression, he lowered his gun.
“Dammit, Sonny! I could’ve killed you. What the hell is going on now?”
His eagle eye canvassed the room, lighting on Logan Reed first and then the body at the console. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he gave a heated curse. “What the hell?”
The expletive bounced off the walls, startling even him. And then, his security instincts kicked in, and he headed for the console. Logan followed on his heels. A second later, the lieutenant was turning to the man.