Page 36 of Long Past Deadly

“I slept. Did you?.”

He rose and smoothed the bed, finally moving his gaze from her towel-covered, naked body. He didn’t answer her, but poured her a cup of coffee. Christ! Men.

“Please let me get dressed. I’ll join you in the day room in a bit.”

Quaid pointed at the tray. “Drink. We need to talk.”

“Agreed, but I prefer to be dressed.”

To his credit, he kept his eyes on her face this time. Tired lines and blood shot eyes were not a good look on him. But at least he’d taken his contacts out and his eyes were brown and true. “Sorry. Come to my office when you’re ready. It’ll be quieter.”

“Only you and me. I don’t want to tell a whole slew of people my business.”

“Understood. We have to narrow the search, Lani.”

When had he started calling her that? And she didn’t hate it. Miracle.

“We’re not going to find Mercer this way.” The thought had been on her mind.

“Whittaker might have information and context we need, though.”

“He’s hiding or I would have found him.”

“Why hide? Why not go to the police? Or to you, the FBI, for God’s sake.”

“I don’t have an answer. But I’ll tell you as much as I can. Will you go, please?”

He walked to the door – again without answering her – but turned back. “I truly was worried when you didn’t answer, but I won’t enter like this again. I want you to feel safe here.”

Funny thing. She did. So she told him.

“I know I’m safe here. I’m just irritable. Love the brown eyes, Daniels. Much better.”

“You were right about the contacts.”

He left. The door snapped shut behind him.

His departure didn’t change the wrenched flip of her stomach, but at least she’d managed damage control.

She sagged onto the bed. “Lani, you’re a mess. Get dressed, braid your hair, find your gun, and put some lipstick on, girl. It ain’t easy until it’s easy.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Quaid stared out his office window at the parking lot, tracing cars from row to row, searching for clues. Military trained and the man had missed too many times. Having already been shot once in his life, he wasn’t lamenting that the man hadn’t succeeded. Lani might have theories, but what if this was his favorite game? He may have a professional assassin’s process, but Quaid couldn’t help but question the methodology of this shoot. They had no identity and too few facts, but the whole thing raged at him.

A light tap on the door had him shifting. The door opened and Lani leaned in, dressed in black, composed, and beautiful. “Are you ready for me?”

“Are you ready for me?” He skipped to the serious to avoid getting mired in a charm comment that wouldn’t fly with her.

“No.”

Quaid sighed. “Come on in.” He pointed to the most comfortable spot in the room. The side chairs by the sofa were his best bet – something he never considered before. Boy, he was overdue for a conversation with Elizabeth about an office upgrade. The playboy part of himself smirked – all for a woman. But the warrior part of him accepted the necessary change – she would never be just any woman. This one wasn’t letting him scratch the surface of who he was. Uncomfortable, he went to the small kitchen area and opened the fridge. “Soda?”

“Yeah, diet coke, please.”

He drank the same which shifted the habit into the ‘we can get along’ column.

Two cokes in hand, he waited until she chose her chair. Passing off the drink, he collapsed into the other seat. A level of tired he hadn’t endured since Afghanistan swept over him, but he ignored it. Alanna’s closed face gave no mood hints, but her fingers shook as she toyed with the tab.