“I don’t have a choice in this, do I?” he bit off, exasperated.
“Well, you can say no...” she told him, deliberately letting her voice trail off.
Jackson knew exactly what that meant. “But you won’t listen.”
Brianna suppressed a laugh, trying to get him to come around by using humor. “You’re a fast learner.”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “If I was a fast learner, I would have worn garlic around my neck the first time I ever laid eyes on you.”
She didn’t think that was the image he was going for. “That’s to ward off vampires.”
“And people with a sense of smell,” he said coldly. “You do have one of those, don’t you?”
Brianna merely smiled at him. She’d worn him down, she thought. At least for tonight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven. We could both use a break from this investigation. And who knows?” she said. “Maybe if we’re not concentrating on the murders, the answers will come to us.”
Jackson wasn’t moved. She heard him mutter something under his breath, but she knew better than to ask him to repeat it. She firmly believed in quitting while she was ahead.
* * *
Because of the intense nature of his work and the hours he put in, Jackson preferred sleeping in on the weekend whenever he could. But because Brianna had threatened to be on his doorstep by eleven, he intended to be long gone from his apartment before then.
Things didn’t exactly go as planned.
After he left the precinct last night, he’d gone to see his father. Even though he knew that more than half the times he visited his father had no idea who he was, Jackson felt that he should be there just in case this was one of those rare days when his father’s mind didn’t disappear into a fog.
As it turned out, his efforts had been rewarded. Ethan’s eyes lit up when Jackson walked into the small room that had become, essentially, his entire world.
“Jackie!” his father cried, beaming. “You came to see me, boy. Is your brother here with you?” he asked, trying to peer around Jackson’s six-foot-two frame.
“He couldn’t make it,” Jackson told his father. “But he sends his love.”
His father nodded, the thick hair that had turned prematurely white years ago falling into his eyes as he accepted the excuse. Ethan pushed his hair back. “As long as he’s well and you’re well, that’s all that counts, Jackie.”
Because of the hour, Jackson’s visit was short. His father’s visit was even shorter. Less than an hour later, the invisible walls of Ethan Muldare’s prison had returned.
Still, Jackson had thought as he went home, his father had been himself for a little while, and those brief visits were precious to him.
He was far from rested the next morning. After getting home, Jackson had spent the rest of the evening reviewing all the facts dealing with the Aurora Hotel that he and Brianna had managed to compile so far.
Because of that, it was hard turning off his mind, even when he finally did fall asleep. He wound up dreaming about the case.
Taking no chances, Jackson wanted to be out of his apartment no later than nine. But he fell behind schedule, mainly because he’d woken up a little after eight—still thinking about the case. Not wanting to lose the thread of what had occurred to him while half-asleep, Jackson jotted down a few notes and got caught up in a theory that was knocking around in his brain.
Realizing that it was later than he was happy about, Jackson quickly showered, shaved and threw on his clothes. He could almost feel the minutes slipping away, even though it was still relatively early.
Because he didn’t want to take a chance getting out even later than it was, Jackson decided to have breakfast at one of the fast-food places in the area.
With that in mind, he grabbed the folder he’d put his notes in and opened the door to make his getaway, confident that he still had plenty of time. After all, Brianna wasn’t going to be here until eleven.
Locking his door, he swung around, still moving and ready to hurry off to his car. That was when he made full-body contact with the person on his doorstep, all but slamming into them.
The folder fell out of his hand, papers scattering at his feet. Stunned, it took Jackson half a second to collect himself. It took him less than that to see that the person whose body had all but imprinted itself on his was Brianna.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, dropping to his knees to pick up the folder and the pages that had escaped from it before the wind decided to play hide-and-seek with them. “You said you’d be here at eleven.”
As Brianna dropped down to her knees, helping him pick up the pages, she cheerfully responded, “I lied.”
The papers collected, she stood and handed him the ones that she had managed to secure. “But then, you can’t really blame me,” she told him. “I knew you’d try to make an escape.” She smiled at him as she watched him sticking the pages back into the folder. He made no secret of the fact that he was angry at her unexpected appearance. “You’re actually leaving later than I thought you would.”
About to tell her off, saying that he didn’t appreciate her stalking him, Jackson replayed her words in his head.
Scowling, he asked, “You thought I was going to leave earlier than now?”
“Yes.”
That meant that she had to have been waiting for him to open his door. Just how stubborn was this woman?
“How long have you been standing out here?” he demanded.
“Since eight,” she answered simply. “It’s not as bad as you think. I wasn’t really standing out here all that time. I was in my car until about five minutes ago. I’ve got a clear view of your door from where I parked in guest parking. Or rather, double-parked,” she amended, wanting
