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He didn’t say anything, just continued to hold my hands, and it offered more comfort than mere words ever could. Yet I could sense the conflict in him—the need for information warring with the need to be sympathetic. “Say it,” I said quietly.
He gave me a lopsided smile that warmed me more than his touch. “You must have found something to make them nervous.”
“We made a ton of notes, but I can’t remember anything that specifically points a finger at anyone.” I hesitated, then added, “But the man who gave us the tip … His voice was familiar.”
“You can’t place it?”
“No.” I hesitated again. “I have a friend doing a check on the whereabouts of a Seth Knightly, although the voice was too elegant to be his.”
“Then why do you suspect him?”
“Because he made a reference to something that happened to me in the past—something that only a few people were aware of. And running us off the road like that, and then leaving us to die, is the sort of thing he’d do.”
He frowned slightly. “And there was nothing in the town that you were investigating before the accident?”
“Nothing at all.” I hesitated. “Though I did wonder how they got my cell number.”
He frowned. “Cell phones are digital and hard to pick up on scanners, although that doesn’t mean it can’t have happened. But it’s more than likely someone would have given them your number.”
“I’ve only got a couple of friends who have my number, and none of them would have given it out without telling me.”
“What about your mother?”
“It’s possible, if the king ordered it.” But that man didn’t even know I existed, so I couldn’t imagine he was the source. “I’d like to think she didn’t, though.”
If only because that would mean they knew altogether too much about me.
Damon’s frown deepened. “Did you phone anyone unusual in the few days before the accident?”
“No.” I hesitated. “Well, I did phone the council about the cleansed towns, but they, of course, could not have cared less. I can’t imagine they’d attempt to destroy us when they didn’t even give a damn about two towns that had been destroyed.”
He didn’t comment on that, but I felt his quick flash of interest anyway. “You think someone on the council is working with the people behind the cleansings?”
I shrugged. “Right now, I think anything is possible.”
“It’s a shame those notes all burned along with your apartment. They might have been useful.”
“They’re not much more than a listing of what we’ve found, who we know is missing, stuff like that.”
“Which may not mean a lot to you, but could be the difference between me finding these people and not.”
“Meaning, of course, that you do know a whole lot more than you’re admitting.”
“I’m a muerte. I always know more than I admit.”
His tone was gently mocking, and I resisted the urge to flick some cake in his direction. But only because it would have meant taking my hands from his.
“If Death is all-knowing, then why doesn’t he know that the notes are actually on a netbook that wasn’t in either apartment?”
His dark gaze scanned mine, as if searching for lies. “So it’s safe?”
“More than likely.” If no one had stolen the thing out of the desk. “I’d been writing up the latest batch of notes at work and left them there.” Rainey had been in such a hurry to get back to Nevada that I’d forgotten to pick up the netbook on the way out.
“So we can still get to it?”
“If you can figure out a way to enter the building without being seen. Those men have my license and press card, so they’ll know where I work and will probably be on the lookout.”
His sudden smile was full and rich, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. And I’d been right before—it was absolutely heart-stopping.
