“No, you’re always careful about what you say. The picture you present. It’s what you do that tells the real story, isn’t it? You “act” like my partner, then turn around and operate behind my back.”
“You don’t get it.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” She stood, furious. And hurt. The former, she grasped. The latter, she buried. “We’re partners. Or we’re not. We play for the same team. Or we don’t. You’re a stand-up guy. Or you’re not.”
He faced her. “In my world, nothing’s black and white. And it’s gotten a whole lot grayer in the last couple of days.”
“Hocus-pocus, self-indulgent bullshit. There’re rules for living, Hollywood. Boundaries to be honored.”
“Your rules, Mick. Your boundaries.”
“So what do you live by?” she shot back. “What do you live for? Oh wait, I think I know. For yourself.”
“Walk a mile, baby.” He ground the words out. She’d broken through his easy-going, charmer facade. She wondered at the darkness of what lay beneath.
“Poor little superhero. Always got everything he wanted. My heart bleeds.”
He seemed to freeze a moment, then crossed to stand directly in front of her. “You want it all? The whole truth?”
“This isn’t a game.”
“And I’m not playing.”
He was angry. But so was she. She met his gaze defiantly. In challenge. And immediately recognized her mistake.
She couldn’t look away. Something about those eyes, that blue. As endless as a summer sky and as deep as the ocean.
Magnetic. A connection. Between the only two people in the world. They were bound by something greater than their physical bodies or corporeal time. Limitless. Perfect.
A shudder rippled over her, rousing her from her stupor. His magic, she realized. This was what he used to get others to do his bidding. To turn them to mush.
What he had promised he would never use on her. Look away, Micki, she told herself. Break free. Do it.
She mustered the will. It rose up in her, painfully. The connection snapped.
She felt hot, then cold. Starkly alone.
“You son of a bitch,” she said, voice raspy. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t do that. Not to me.”
“I had to get your attention.”
“Always with an excuse, Hollywood. What’s your word worth to me?”
“Parker called me at the Putnam scene,” he said softly. “About the missing girls. Who had them.” He paused. “But that’s the thing, Mick. It’s not a who, it’s a what.”
That penetrated. She blinked once, then again.
“Doesn’t fit into your neat black and white world, does it? Where’s the boundary with that one? I’d sure as hell like to know.”
Black.
And white
She shook her head, fighting for equilibrium. To clear her thoughts. Focus. She took a step back. “I can’t be here right now.”
“After last night, I believe him. That thing I saw on Knight, it killed her. At the Putnam scene, it wanted to kill me.”
Not a who.
A what.
She turned to go. He caught her arm. “Running away, Mick? I thought you wanted on my team?”
She trembled. “Take your hand off me.”
“No boundaries. All shades of gray. That’s my world, Mick. You still want in?”
His hand on her arm burned, heat that went clear to her core. Her thoughts spun, like a merry-go-round on crack.
She searched for a sarcastic comeback. Something both caustic and glib. Trademark Mad-Dog Dare.
She had nothing. Nada, except for this kaleidoscope of confusion. “I’m out of here,” she said, yanking her arm free and walking away.
Chapter Thirty-two
Tuesday, July 16
1:40 P.M.
Zach watched Micki go, thoughts racing. A throbbing in his blood, like an awakening. New life. Pulsing. Their connection.
He had felt the power of her anger, the depth of his betrayal of her. The strength of her immense will. And something more. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Not yet.
“Always with an excuse, Hollywood. What’s your word worth to me?”
He got it. He did. But did she get the unique position he was in? Yes, he’d excluded her, acted without her knowledge, but he straddled two agencies, two allegiances. And, apparently, two worlds. This one and the one populated by a pulsing, murderous shadow.
Which sounded like a bucketful of excuses. Even to him.
Annoyed with his own thoughts, he grabbed his jacket and exited the interview room. And ran smack into J.B.
“Whoa, Hollywood, where’s the fire?”
“Sorry, man.” He moved around him.
J.B. caught his arm. “Saw your partner head out of here like a bat out of hell. Lover’s quarrel?”
“Screw off, J.B.”
“Sounds like I struck a nerve.”
Zach shook off J.B.’s hand. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Thanks for noticing, pal,” the man called to his back.
Zach ignored him. He paused at Sue’s desk. Looked her in the eyes. “Following up a lead. Meeting Mick there.”