Destined for an Early Grave(59)

“Oh, there’s contact, all right.” I wanted to study the photos and destroy them at the same time. “Full frontal, from what I can see!”

“Damn straight,” Tate muttered.

“Quiet,” Spade barked at Tate, easing his pitch when he turned to me. “Crispin wouldn’t betray you that way, no matter how livid he was. There’s an explanation for this. Let Fabian go and find it.”

Underneath my fury, there was also piercing hurt. I wanted to believe that this was all a misunderstanding. And yet deep down inside there was an insinuating, slithering fear. What if it wasn’t?

“Okay.” Forced out while my head started to pound. “Fabian, you get down there and find Bones. Let him explain to you who this chick is. I’ll wait to see what Bones says.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Tate burst. “Didn’t you look at those pictures? What more do you need, live video feed?”

“Sometimes that isn’t right either,” I yelled back. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cry. “I found that out the hard way, and I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

Tate just stared at me with disbelief. Then he said, “You’re a fool,” before walking away in disgust.

“I’ll bring you word,” Fabian promised.

“Please do.” I glanced at the photos again. “No matter what it is.”





NINETEEN




JUAN CAME TO PICK FABIAN UP. FROM JUAN’S friendly but cautious greeting, I knew he’d seen the pictures.

“How long before he gets there?” I asked Juan when they were about to leave.

He shuffled. “Querida, if I’m specific, it’ll tell you too much.”

“Approximately,” I prodded, hating this necessary secrecy, but Gregor had proved he was still sifting in my dreams. If I somehow fell asleep, damned if I’d give him anything useful.

“Around a day, allowing for contact time and return,” he estimated.

That long? I’d wear holes in the floor pacing.

“Fine.” Years of faking cool when I was an emotional wreck had its advantages. “Take care of my ghost.”

Juan gave a wary glance to his shoulder. Fabian smiled at me, his hand disappearing into Juan’s collarbone.

“Good seeing you, querida,” Juan said, still giving his shoulder a cagey stare. I waved with a forced smile. Mustn’t look like the worried, jilted wife.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spade rub his temple. Annette was in the doorway, almost leaning on the frame. It had been a long time since any of us had slept.

“Get some sleep, guys. This isn’t a group contest on who can stay awake the longest. Especially you, Spade. You may need to be sharp when we get word, so you don’t have a choice.”

He nodded. “Just a few hours. That should tide me over.”

“If you’re worried that I’ll nod off, don’t. I can safely say there’s enough on my mind to keep me up.”

Spade gave Tate a condemning glare. “For all we know, those images were doctored. His jealousy of Crispin is boundless. It wouldn’t astonish me in the least to have Fabian report back that there was no such woman.”

“Yeah, right,” Tate scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that. Before anything else, I’m Cat’s friend. And if Bones has nothing to hide, then why’s he hiding?”

“Enough, guys.” They were making my head worse.

Spade gave Tate a final glare. “You’ll be proven wrong soon enough. I’ll enjoy informing Crispin about how you needlessly upset Cat in your futile quest to have her, because I think at last he’ll kill you for it.”

Tate squared his shoulders. “I’m upsetting her with the truth because I’ll be damned if I’ll shut up while he runs around behind her back making a fool of her.”

Spade stared at Tate in a way that worried me. He looked like he was fighting not to kill him.

“You’re very lucky Crispin made me swear never to harm you,” Spade settled on. “Else you’d already be missing your head.”

“Sleep tight,” Tate shot back.

“That better be your last word,” I warned Tate. Spade wasn’t all bark and no bite. Didn’t Tate know that?

Spade tensed like all bets were off. I considered tackling him, but then decided on a different tactic.

I swayed with a gasp and put my hand to my head. Spade was at my side in a blink. His chivalrousness went even deeper than his temper.

“What is it, Cat?”

“All this stress and lack of sleep…I feel a little faint.”

With a final threatening glance at Tate, Spade touched my arm. “I’ll get you some water.”