She hurried down the stairs to the dock.
“The day's got off to a hell of a start for your girl,” Connor commented. “Off to the island to service Lazar, all cuddly and tight with Novak. Who knows what else the day will hold?”
Seth ignored him. He fought off nausea as he watched the catamaran pull away from the dock. Moving away, getting smaller. No stopping her now.
“... yo, Seth. Anybody home? You in there?”
“Huh?” He swung his focus back to McCloud's frowning face.
“I was just saying that this could be an interesting slant. If Novak is interested in her, which he obviously is, and who can blame him, then we've got another lead. Maybe one of us should ask her out. Find out what she knows. Plant a transmitter on her. Excellent, huh?”
“She doesn't know anything,” Seth growled
“You don't know that. I'd even give her a try myself.”
Seth spun around so fast he knocked the mouse off the desk.
“You have first refusal, of course,” Connor added hastily. “I know you've had your eye on her, but if you don't have the heart for it, I could shave and comb my hair and give her a whirl. No hardship. She's hot.”
“McCloud—”
“Or I could pass her on to Sean,” Connor said thoughtfully. “He's better-looking than me, and he likes juicy blondes with great tits as much as the next guy. I don't think Sean's ever fucked information out of a woman before, but hey, there's a first time for everything.”
Something snapped. Everything got weird and faraway, as if there were a blood-red filter across his eyes. Space and time distorted. He flew through the air in slow motion, slamming into Connor. He knocked him off the chair, onto the floor. Electronic equipment crashed down with them. His hands were around Connor's corded throat, squeezing. Connor’s hands were jammed against his own jaw. He was talking, his voice thick and strained. The words began to register.
“D—don't, Seth. Don't do it. Chill, man. You don't want to get into it with me. Big waste of time and energy for us both. St—stop.”
The red haze subsided. Connor's face emerged through it, slowly. Strained, but controlled. Squinting. Watching him like a hawk.
Seth forced himself to relax and let go. He rolled up into a sitting position and dropped his face into his shaking hands.
Connor dragged himself upright. “I think you threw my back out,” he said. “And you've wrecked some of your gizmos.”
Seth didn't even look up. “I’ll fix them,” he said dully.
“Oh, thanks for your concern. Don't trouble yourself. I'll be fine.”
Seth's hands dropped. He stared down at the dingy gray carpet. He groaned and covered his face with his hands again.
“You've had her already, haven't you?” Connor demanded. “You sneaky son-of-a-bitch. Why didn't you tell me?”
Seth met his eyes, and looked away quickly.
“Aw, shit.” Connor flopped back down onto the floor. He shoved back the tangled mass of hair that had fallen across his thin face and stared up at the ceiling. “Look, if you want out, just say so. Take her off to a desert island. Do whatever it is you do with her, I don't give a flying fuck. Just stop screwing with my investigation.”
“It's our investigation, McCloud, and I haven't screwed anything.”
“Nah, just Lazar's mistress,” Connor spat back. “If that's not screwing with the investigation, then—”
“She's not his mistress. Lazar offered her to me. She knows jack shit, so don't push me. You won't be able to talk me down a second time.”
Connor jerked up onto his elbows. His astonishment was satisfying, but he had good recovery time. “I wouldn't bother,” he snapped. “I'd just proceed directly to beating the living shit out of you.”
Seth's hands clenched into fists. “Like hell.”
“Then you'd have a big macho ego crisis about being flattened by a guy with a cane. Fucking pathetic. I want to spare you that, you know? Being as how you're such a sad, sorry son-of-a-bitch already.”
Seth stared at him for a long moment, and then looked down. He suppressed a snort of reluctant laughter.
Connor scooted on his ass across the floor to retrieve his cane, and struggled to his feet. “Let's beat our chests some other time. When all this is over, we'll do some sparring. Find out whose balls are bigger and hairier. Until then, peace. Deal?” He held out his hand.
Seth got to his feet. He reached out and gripped Connor's scarred hand. “I'm holding you to that.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment.
“You were deliberately messing with my head, weren't you?” Seth asked. “Don't do that again, McCloud.”
“I wanted to see how far out of your mind you really were,” Connor said coolly. “I feared the worst, but this is worse than the worst. You're not just obsessed. You're in love.” “Bullshit,” Seth growled.
“Is it? Whew.” Connor mimed wiping the sweat away from his brow. “You don't mind if we use her as bait then, right?”
“Do not get anywhere near her. Do not factor her into your plans, do not even think about her, McCloud. She is out of the game. Got it?”
“Get real,” Connor said sagely. “She's out at the island with Lazar. She's chatting up Novak. And now she's screwing you. How much more in the game can she be?”
Seth shook his head, feeling hunted and desperate. “She's out of it,” he repeated.
“Hey. Take it easy” Connor said gently. He brushed the grit from his jeans and shook his head, letting out a muffled crack of laughter. “What a joke,” he muttered. “Why should I feel sorry for you? You're the one who just got laid. We'll see how far out of it she is when we hear what Novak said to her. The gulpers at the marina caught it, right?”
Sean clenched his teeth. “Yeah.”
“Good. Go get it, then. And, uh ... how long has it been since you've showered and shaved? You look like a derelict, man. You skulk around the marina looking like that, you'll get arrested for vagrancy.”
“Fuck off, McCloud,” Seth said wearily.
Connor swatted him on the shoulder with a grin. “That's my boy.”
Raine's mind expanded, hushed and awestruck, as the dark hulk of Stone Island grew closer. A sense of silent immensity extended in every direction from the place. Wind sighed through the pines, and swollen clouds hung heavy in the sky. The morning fog was beginning to lift, revealing the familiar shape of the shore. The scent of moss, damp wood, algae, pine and fir filled her nose.
Clayborne, Victor's personal assistant, was waiting for her on the dock. He was a middle-aged man with a pencil-thin gray mustache on his long, twitching upper lip, and a manner of perpetual anxiety.
“Finally,” he fussed, waving for her to follow. “Come along. We needed your French during business hours, and it's past seven in the evening in Morocco. What on earth kept you?”
“Sorry” she murmured absently. The house rose up before her eyes as they ascended the path, a sprawling but still somehow graceful structure. It was deceptively simple from the outside, sided with wood shingles that had mellowed to a glowing silver-gray.
The scents of the luxurious interior shocked her sense memories to life. Bowls of lavender and pine potpourri were in every room, and the walls were faced with fine cedar paneling. Alix had always complained about the rich smell of the wood, claiming that it gave her headaches, but Raine had loved it. The scent had lingered in her things for months after they had run away. She still remembered how bereft she had felt that day in France when she had buried her face in the folds of her coat and realized that the perfume of cedar had faded entirely away.
Clayborne led her directly to the bustling office on the second floor, shoved her behind a desk and began to fire instructions at her at full speed. Just as well. She was grateful to him. There was so much to do, and all of it in such a tearing, anxious hurry that there would be no time to work herself into a state. It was the perfect way to hold memories at bay.
At some point, sandwiches and fruit were left on the sideboard, but nervousness got the better of her and
