was a God.
He hummed to himself as he checked the seals, making certain there would be no leaks. Going over it meticulously, because he refused to make mistakes.
It wouldn’t be a true test of which one of them was smarter if he made any mistakes.
So he checked every inch, every detail, going over and over the plan until he was absolutely positive there was nothing left out, nothing forgotten, nothing wrong.
He polished the glass and metal until there was no hint of a fingerprint or even a smear, vacuumed the space for the third time, compulsively took apart all the connections so he could wipe down each component individually.
They would find only the signs he wanted them to find.
When he was done this time, he stood back and studied the room, playing out in his head how it would be. She was tough, so he didn’t think she’d be all that scared at first. Which was good for his purposes.
Once he’d figured out it was the fear that drew Jordan, he had chosen his lures even more carefully. He liked the tough ones, the ones that didn’t scare easily. Because that made it all the sweeter when they realized what was going to happen to them and how helpless they were to stop it.
This one, he thought, would be one of the best. When she finally broke, her terror would be extreme. He didn’t know if Jordan could feel it or smell it, but either way it would hit him like a punch to the gut.
To be this close.
To have an innocent taken from beneath his very nose.
To begin to really understand the game.
“Jesus, Sam.”
“What? What was I supposed to do, Luke? Ignore what I saw? Let that lady and her baby die?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then. I gave him the calmest, most low-key warning I could come up with, spur-of-the-moment. I’m sure you could have done better in disguising the psychic origins of the information, what with all your training and experience in these things, but—”
“Will you stop with that shit? I didn’t make the rules, Sam. I wasn’t the one who decided that anything that smacked of carnivals or sideshows could never be part of what we are. But you know what? For the record, I agree with Bishop on that one. I have had to deal with too many hard-nosed, skeptical cops like Wyatt Metcalf not to have learned that we have to look serious and act serious if we have even a hope of being accepted for what we are and believed . So we can do our jobs.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right. You usually are, after all.” She closed the take-out box and pushed the salad away. “Lost my appetite. Can’t imagine why.”
Lucas was sorely tempted to turn around and walk out but fought the impulse. Instead, he pulled the other chair out and sat down across from her.
“Please,” she said, “join me.”
“Thanks, I will.” He kept his voice even. “Do you think we can talk like two rational people for a minute?”
“Maybe a minute. Though I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Jesus, Sam.”
“You already said that.”
What he said then was something he hadn’t wanted or intended to say. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Samantha laughed.
Lucas supposed he deserved that, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. “I didn’t. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth.”
“As a matter of fact, I do believe it. So what?”
He wasn’t a man who was easily knocked off his balance, but he had to admit, at least silently, that Samantha always managed to do just that. “So can we stop fighting?”
“I don’t know. Can we?”
“Christ, you’re a stubborn woman.”
“That’s not even conversation.”
“Do I have to remind you again that I’m in the middle of a serial kidnapping and murder investigation?”
“ We’re in the middle. I’m here too, Luke.”
“You being here is just—” He stopped, then slowly finished, “a fluke.”
Samantha didn’t say a word.
“Happenstance. A coincidence.”
She picked up her drink and sipped.
Lucas was aware of a
He hummed to himself as he checked the seals, making certain there would be no leaks. Going over it meticulously, because he refused to make mistakes.
It wouldn’t be a true test of which one of them was smarter if he made any mistakes.
So he checked every inch, every detail, going over and over the plan until he was absolutely positive there was nothing left out, nothing forgotten, nothing wrong.
He polished the glass and metal until there was no hint of a fingerprint or even a smear, vacuumed the space for the third time, compulsively took apart all the connections so he could wipe down each component individually.
They would find only the signs he wanted them to find.
When he was done this time, he stood back and studied the room, playing out in his head how it would be. She was tough, so he didn’t think she’d be all that scared at first. Which was good for his purposes.
Once he’d figured out it was the fear that drew Jordan, he had chosen his lures even more carefully. He liked the tough ones, the ones that didn’t scare easily. Because that made it all the sweeter when they realized what was going to happen to them and how helpless they were to stop it.
This one, he thought, would be one of the best. When she finally broke, her terror would be extreme. He didn’t know if Jordan could feel it or smell it, but either way it would hit him like a punch to the gut.
To be this close.
To have an innocent taken from beneath his very nose.
To begin to really understand the game.
“Jesus, Sam.”
“What? What was I supposed to do, Luke? Ignore what I saw? Let that lady and her baby die?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then. I gave him the calmest, most low-key warning I could come up with, spur-of-the-moment. I’m sure you could have done better in disguising the psychic origins of the information, what with all your training and experience in these things, but—”
“Will you stop with that shit? I didn’t make the rules, Sam. I wasn’t the one who decided that anything that smacked of carnivals or sideshows could never be part of what we are. But you know what? For the record, I agree with Bishop on that one. I have had to deal with too many hard-nosed, skeptical cops like Wyatt Metcalf not to have learned that we have to look serious and act serious if we have even a hope of being accepted for what we are and believed . So we can do our jobs.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right. You usually are, after all.” She closed the take-out box and pushed the salad away. “Lost my appetite. Can’t imagine why.”
Lucas was sorely tempted to turn around and walk out but fought the impulse. Instead, he pulled the other chair out and sat down across from her.
“Please,” she said, “join me.”
“Thanks, I will.” He kept his voice even. “Do you think we can talk like two rational people for a minute?”
“Maybe a minute. Though I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Jesus, Sam.”
“You already said that.”
What he said then was something he hadn’t wanted or intended to say. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Samantha laughed.
Lucas supposed he deserved that, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. “I didn’t. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth.”
“As a matter of fact, I do believe it. So what?”
He wasn’t a man who was easily knocked off his balance, but he had to admit, at least silently, that Samantha always managed to do just that. “So can we stop fighting?”
“I don’t know. Can we?”
“Christ, you’re a stubborn woman.”
“That’s not even conversation.”
“Do I have to remind you again that I’m in the middle of a serial kidnapping and murder investigation?”
“ We’re in the middle. I’m here too, Luke.”
“You being here is just—” He stopped, then slowly finished, “a fluke.”
Samantha didn’t say a word.
“Happenstance. A coincidence.”
She picked up her drink and sipped.
Lucas was aware of a
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