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“I don’t need a gun to annihilate someone. You’ve seen me in action.”
“Yeah, I have. You’re lethal. But Krav Maga only goes so far. It can’t stop a bullet that’s fired from a distance.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
“How?”
“I’ll use my bow and arrow.” Sloane knew that particular tone of Derek’s only too well. And she wasn’t buying. “Don’t you dare snap into macho protective mode. I won’t put up with it. I have three dachshunds. If I wanted a Doberman, I’d buy one.”
“What you’ve got is a bodyguard—gratis. Which is lucky for you. Because you couldn’t afford my services if I charged you. Army Ranger, remember?”
“I remember.” Sloane bristled. “I also remember you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a package deal. Cope with it.”
“Not a chance. Look, Derek. We slept together last night. We’ll probably sleep together again. But that’s where it ends. Sex isn’t a relationship. You’re not back in my life, and I won’t tolerate your inserting yourself in it. So cut the knight-in-shining-armor routine. I didn’t need it then, and I neither want nor need it now.” She snatched up her purse and marched across the hotel room, where she began rummaging through the front closet. “Lend me a jacket. We’re picking up my car and meeting Tom. This subject is closed.”
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
DATE: 3 April
TIME: 2100 hours
How fitting that my most coveted prize is turning out to be my most worthy opponent.
Artemis. My twin.
Smart and resourceful as she is beautiful, she didn’t miss a beat when she discovered the flat tire I’d arranged to keep her near me—something I never would have done if I’d known the skies were about to open up, and that no one on campus would offer her help. She’d injured herself. That was my fault. I’ll have to make it up to her.
She’s also every bit the cunning huntress. If circumstances were different, she might even dig up enough suspicious information, connect enough dots, to point the investigation in my direction.
But circumstances aren’t different.
And there won’t be enough time.
Hunterdon County, New Jersey
10:30 P.M.
Sloane was fighting a losing battle.
For the past half hour, she’d been battling out a full-scale tug-of-war. She was tired, breathless, and losing big-time. The only thing that was in worse shape than she, was the item being tugged—which, in this case, was her sweat sock. Moe had already chewed three holes in it, Larry had stretched it beyond recognition, and Curly was yanking on it so hard, he was making little grunting sounds with each rhythmic pull.
“I give up.” Sloane let go of the sock and rolled over onto her back on the living-room rug, laughing as the three victorious hounds abandoned the sock to leap on her, licking her face and nibbling on her hair. “You’re way too strong for me. Although, for the record, three against one isn’t a fair fight.”
She sat up, frowning at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten-thirty at night, and still the messenger hadn’t arrived with the DVDs. She’d checked outside at least five times to see if the messenger had done a dump-and-run. Nothing. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t reach Derek to find out what was going on. She’d been trying him since ten o’clock this morning, and his cell phone was going straight to voice mail.
She was torn between being royally pissed and a little worried. Derek was on-the-dot punctual. He would have been at Stockton, in the campus police’s faces, at nine o’clock sharp. If they’d been running late, he’d have planted himself in their office like a drill sergeant. And if they’d been this late, he would have called to alert her.
Unless he was knee-deep in balancing the demands of the Bureau with the need to apply pressure on the college administrators to get what he wanted.
Any way you sliced it, Sloane wasn’t happy.
Moe barked in her face to protest the lack of attention she was receiving, and Sloane responded by scratching her ears and giving each pup a kiss on the snout. “Thanks for being the only dependable ones in my life,” she told them.
At that moment the doorbell rang.
