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"What was Billie doing at the time?"
"I don't know. I never saw him again after he ran off."
"Did anyone see him again that night?"
"The police interviewed him, apparently, but nothing came of it."
"Does Billie have a last name?"
"Farmer."
"The name of the guy who attacked us last night,” Nikki murmured, glancing at Jake. “Lord, how bad could their teasing have been for him to seek revenge forty years later?"
"Just think back to your own teenager years,” Jake said, voice grim. “And multiply that by twelve."
"I never had a normal teenage life."
"No, but you were certainly a normal teenager, just carrying a bit more angst than usual. Just ask our favorite police detective."
"Never thought I'd say this, but I wish we had MacEwan with us now. The man has a knack for being in the right place at the right time.” She hesitated and nodded towards Mary. “What are we going to do?"
"I can put a compulsion on her.” Michael ignored the rush of irritation through the link and held Jake's gaze. Not quite compelling. “Make her leave right immediately, without fighting."
"Will she remember it?"
"You can't do this, Jake,” Nikki said. “It's wrong to control another's behavior like this.” Damn it, Michael, don't do this to her.
Stop letting your own fears override common sense. You agree Mary has to leave San Francisco, don't you?
Yes, but—
You agree that she won't go willingly, don't you?
She didn't reply, just glared at him. He was right, and she knew it. He looked back at Jake. “No, she won't feel the compulsion. Where do you want me to send her?"
"Not to Boston, that's for sure.” Jake hesitated. “What about Long Beach? She has a friend down there—a recent friend, not one from Boston. Mary said some time ago she'd like to see her again."
"This friend's name?"
"Anna."
"Then that's where we'll send her. You want to go call the friend and make arrangements? I'll hold Mary until you come back."
Jake walked into the bedroom. Michael glanced at Nikki. She'd crossed her arms and was carefully holding herself away from him. The anger he could feel in the link was evident in the glitter in her eyes.
"This is part of what I do,” he said, keeping his voice even, unapologetic. “It's also probably the least of my sins when it comes to getting a job done. It's not something I intend to stop just because it bruises your sensibilities."
"Damn it, she has a right to choose her own destiny."
"So you'd rather she stay here and die?"
"No, and that's not—"
He touched a hand to the warmth of her lips, stopping her words. “The point is, I'm trying to stop a killer, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve that goal. I don't care whether you like it or not. It's what I do. Accept it and get past it."
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Fine,” she muttered. “I'll say no more about it." The stubborn look on her face suggested that while she might not say anything more, she'd definitely be thinking it. He smiled and touched her chin, gently directing her gaze back to his. “One of the things I love about you,” he said softly, “is the ungracious way you give in when you know you're wrong." He brushed a kiss across her lips. Her mouth was warm and pliant under his, and the kiss deepened. Heat simmered through the link, a yearning that could not be quenched for some time yet. Eventually she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"And one of the things I love about you,” she said, eyes dancing with amusement and desire, “is the way you make me want you, even when I'm so damn mad at you I could spit fire." Jake came back into the room. “All arranged,” he said. “I've booked Mary onto the eleven o'clock flight."
