threat.
“I’m Carol McMillian. Phil Munro’s secretary.”
“Sullivan Kincaid.”
That jolted her. “The detective who called yesterday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Something happened.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Carol was silent for a moment as she absorbed the news, almost like a widow whose brain refused to process information. Then her eyes flicked over the woman backed up against him, over his hand which was still flattened protectively on her midriff. Very slowly, he moved his hand and stepped away from her. The fact that Jessica hadn’t already withdrawn from his touch was filed in his brain for examination another time. And so was the feel of soft skin beneath his palm and fingers.
“Mr. Munro’s car was found abandoned,” he announced, dropping the news on the woman like a house from Kansas. “Stripped for parts.”
She blanched. “Was he—?”
“No.” Sully cut her off. “There’s no evidence of foul play beyond the fact that his car was vandalized. The Houston police have taken over the case.”
“Completely?” The surprised question was from Jessica.
Sully ignored her. “Until the officers come by to interview you, Ms. McMillian, I’d appreciate it if you said nothing to the other employees. Not about the men who were just here or about the car being found.”
She nodded, still slightly dazed, uncertain what to do next.
“Iris wants a picture from her dad’s office,” Jessica murmured into the silence, and the woman nodded again. Sully mentioned the phone call and excused himself too.
The entire length of the corridor, Jessica felt Sully’s eyes boring into her back. She knew he followed only a few steps behind, waiting for her to make a mistake. She could sense the patience in him, the watchfulness.
Regardless of his statement that Houston had taken over the investigation, he’d be asking questions soon. He might have been replaced in an official capacity, but Sully wasn’t the kind of man to let someone else clean up his mess. His first questions would no doubt be about the CIA guys and her reaction to them.
Jessica cringed mentally at her lapse of control. She hadn’t expected them to be so bold as to march into Phil’s company office and haul off files in broad daylight. There’d been no way to disguise the sick tension that had tightened her stomach muscles. Every bit of the fear had been transmitted right to Sully through the contact of his hand, of his chest against her back. Sully had known immediately that something was wrong. He’d followed her lead and played the innocent bystander, but now he’d want explanations.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire
. Explanations were the most dangerous of all.
Reaching Phil’s office seemed like a milestone, a chance to escape Sully’s intense scrutiny, but it wasn’t. He caught her just beyond the door and held her back with the softest of touches on her shoulder as Iris went to the desk. Together they stood slightly to the right of the doorway, surveying the room around them. All of the pictures were off the walls. Several drawers of the cherry credenza-style file cabinets lining one side were open and obviously gutted of important files. She imagined the drawers of Phil’s desk had fared no better.
Silently she cursed Sully for interrupting her first search of the office. Now it was too late. If the file or the book had been here …
Sully leaned closer, eerily finishing her thoughts. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
In spite of herself, Jessica rubbed the side of her neck against her shoulder, trying to erase the sensation that his breath created as it whispered across her skin. Her reaction weakened her disclaimer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Darlin’, whatever it was you were looking for this morning is most likely in those boxes we just passed. Isn’t it?” His voice was low, meant only for her. “The real question is, ‘Do you think
they
know
“I’m Carol McMillian. Phil Munro’s secretary.”
“Sullivan Kincaid.”
That jolted her. “The detective who called yesterday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Something happened.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Carol was silent for a moment as she absorbed the news, almost like a widow whose brain refused to process information. Then her eyes flicked over the woman backed up against him, over his hand which was still flattened protectively on her midriff. Very slowly, he moved his hand and stepped away from her. The fact that Jessica hadn’t already withdrawn from his touch was filed in his brain for examination another time. And so was the feel of soft skin beneath his palm and fingers.
“Mr. Munro’s car was found abandoned,” he announced, dropping the news on the woman like a house from Kansas. “Stripped for parts.”
She blanched. “Was he—?”
“No.” Sully cut her off. “There’s no evidence of foul play beyond the fact that his car was vandalized. The Houston police have taken over the case.”
“Completely?” The surprised question was from Jessica.
Sully ignored her. “Until the officers come by to interview you, Ms. McMillian, I’d appreciate it if you said nothing to the other employees. Not about the men who were just here or about the car being found.”
She nodded, still slightly dazed, uncertain what to do next.
“Iris wants a picture from her dad’s office,” Jessica murmured into the silence, and the woman nodded again. Sully mentioned the phone call and excused himself too.
The entire length of the corridor, Jessica felt Sully’s eyes boring into her back. She knew he followed only a few steps behind, waiting for her to make a mistake. She could sense the patience in him, the watchfulness.
Regardless of his statement that Houston had taken over the investigation, he’d be asking questions soon. He might have been replaced in an official capacity, but Sully wasn’t the kind of man to let someone else clean up his mess. His first questions would no doubt be about the CIA guys and her reaction to them.
Jessica cringed mentally at her lapse of control. She hadn’t expected them to be so bold as to march into Phil’s company office and haul off files in broad daylight. There’d been no way to disguise the sick tension that had tightened her stomach muscles. Every bit of the fear had been transmitted right to Sully through the contact of his hand, of his chest against her back. Sully had known immediately that something was wrong. He’d followed her lead and played the innocent bystander, but now he’d want explanations.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire
. Explanations were the most dangerous of all.
Reaching Phil’s office seemed like a milestone, a chance to escape Sully’s intense scrutiny, but it wasn’t. He caught her just beyond the door and held her back with the softest of touches on her shoulder as Iris went to the desk. Together they stood slightly to the right of the doorway, surveying the room around them. All of the pictures were off the walls. Several drawers of the cherry credenza-style file cabinets lining one side were open and obviously gutted of important files. She imagined the drawers of Phil’s desk had fared no better.
Silently she cursed Sully for interrupting her first search of the office. Now it was too late. If the file or the book had been here …
Sully leaned closer, eerily finishing her thoughts. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
In spite of herself, Jessica rubbed the side of her neck against her shoulder, trying to erase the sensation that his breath created as it whispered across her skin. Her reaction weakened her disclaimer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Darlin’, whatever it was you were looking for this morning is most likely in those boxes we just passed. Isn’t it?” His voice was low, meant only for her. “The real question is, ‘Do you think
they
know
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