Midnight Fever (Men of Midnight #5)(33)

Most people blinked 20 times a minute. Five minutes without blinking was almost beyond human capability.

"She's dead," Offutt finally said. "Good."

"Yes." Baker always said as little as possible over the phone. In his head, this conversation was already over.

"In a way that will not raise suspicion."

"A natural death. Yes." The red would fade soon. She would look like any heart attack victim or stroke victim when a member of her staff found her. The longer she lay undetected, the better.

"Check your account," Offutt said.

Seven and a half million had already been deposited in an account Baker had in Panama. He checked now. Another seven and a half million had just been deposited. It had been made very clear to Offutt that De Haven would die an untraceable death that would come for Offutt without fail if he didn't make that second deposit.

Baker hadn't thought Offutt would try to cheat him out of the second payment. First, he'd be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life, as well he should. Baker's drones could reach him anywhere, anytime. And second, seven and a half million dollars was, after all, a drop in the ocean for Offutt. The running costs for his yacht for a year.

"Got it," Baker said and disconnected.

He switched back to the video feed of the police swarming over the site here in Portland, having already forgotten Offutt.

The CSU was wrapping it up. The handle was gone-they'd recovered the suitcase. They could study that crime scene site until the galaxy died and they would never be able to pin it on him.

Time to find the woman.





Mount Hood



A gentle hand shook her shoulder. "Honey, wake up."

Startled, Kay bolted up, heart pounding. Danger! Danger all around her! Someone had died, Mike had died …

"Whoa." That big hand curled around the back of her head, cupped her neck, shook it lightly. "It's okay. You're safe now. We're here."

Kay looked over at Nick, ashamed of her reaction. Her heart had nearly burst out of her chest but now it was slowing down. "Sorry," she whispered.

Nick released his seat belt and hers and bent over to kiss her cheek. His beard already had a little bite to it. It felt good, grounding. She remembered how smooth his cheeks had been against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. There hadn't been any whisker bite then, oh no. Just smooth skin and smooth tongue … she'd been laid out on the bed like a human sacrifice, only lashed by pleasure not pain. Writhing, holding tightly to his head between her thighs as the one solid point of stability in a hot, restless sea.




       
         
       
        
Heat filled her down to her fingertips and toes and it felt so good. It washed away the cramped chill of fear and anguish.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he answered, moving away from her, big hands hanging over the top of the wheel. He was giving her time to come back into herself. "You needed the rest. I'm glad you had some."

Spears of lambent light shot through a thick copse of pine trees, the kind of light only late afternoon could provide. "Where are we? Have we been driving all day?"

If it was late afternoon, they'd been driving for at least five or six hours. One could cover a lot of ground in that time. They could arguably be in Idaho or California or Washington. She'd thought they were going to Mount Hood, but clearly, she'd been wrong.

"On Mount Hood," Nick said, and exited the vehicle.

Mount Hood? They'd driven hours to get to Mount Hood?

He was at her door, big hands up to help her down. Ordinarily Kay didn't like or need help getting in and out of vehicles, but her muscles were stiff and unwieldly, as if she'd been hurt. Looking down, the ground seemed a long way away, like through the wrong end of the telescope. She leaned forward and Nick lifted her down with no effort at all.

It was embarrassing to feel so weak. She was a strong and healthy woman. She practiced yoga, ran over lunch hours and hiked on weekends. She barely recognized her own body. Her skin felt like a stiff hazmat suit she'd had to don. "How'd it take us hours to get here? Mount Hood is about an hour from Portland, isn't it?"

Nick gave a half smile. "We took, um, the scenic route. One guaranteed to ensure that no one was following us. So, welcome to the Grange. Where we'll be spending the next while until we figure out what's going on." He swept his arm as if presenting the castle of a fairy tale kingdom.

Hmmm. Pretty shabby as castles went. A tiny, dilapidated shack with moldy wooden siding that had turned gray with age, fronted by a rickety porch that sat forlornly on a concrete foundation that had cracks in it. There wasn't a lawn or a garden, just this gravel apron where Nick had parked.