Savage Hunger(63)

A low growl built in Warrick’s throat and his gaze narrowed with anger.

“Don’t get all pissy with me. You know damn well it’s true,” Quinton continued. “She’s twisting you up into knots until you can’t think straight. So you forget to ask all the important questions. She’s a pretty girl, Donovan. But pretty girls are a dime a dozen.”

“I’m thinking just fine.”

“Are you? Then why am I here now? The agency sent me out because you guys haven’t gotten shit out of her yet.”

Warrick snarled. “And you have? How’d that questioning go for you this morning?”

“We’re off to a decent start.”

“My ass. You’re hitting a wall like the rest of us.”

“Then we up the stakes. Let’s bring out the sodium pentothal. Threaten her a little. You’re treating her like a fucking porcelain doll. She’s a suspect, Donovan. You don’t give a suspect the gold-star treatment. And you sure as hell don’t jump into bed with them.”

“Fuck this shit,” Warrick muttered and turned away, striding away from him.

“She’s hiding something,” Quinton yelled after him. “Something big. And she’s using you, Donovan. Did she suck your dick to get you to agree to fly her daddy out here? You know the first thing Kevin Peters will do is demand her release.”

The vein on Warrick’s forehead throbbed and he had to force back the beast inside him that itched to come out. Quinton was poking and prodding, looking for a fight. And he was damn close to getting one.

“He isn’t even answering his phone,” Quinton yelled. “She’s stalling, goddammit. You mark my words. She’s going to run the first opportunity she gets.”

Warrick’s feet dug into the ground at the entrance to the barn. Every instinct demanded he turn and fight. Defend Sienna and explain her fear of not trusting them. Quinton leapt on his hesitation.

“You think you’re so fucking special? That girl will sleep with anyone she thinks will help her.” Quinton’s voice followed after him even as Warrick stepped out of the barn. “It’s the power of being a woman. They know men think with their dicks. You’re above this, Donovan. I know you are.”

Quinton didn’t have a clue what kind of woman Sienna was. The bastard actually had the nerve to—

“But in case you can’t pull your head out of your ass, I’m taking over all questioning and control of this op. When Larson gets back from my little errand I sent him on we’ll start with the sodium pentothal.”

Warrick growled low in his throat and thrust away from the doorway, running back to the house. Anything to put distance between him and the man he was close to decking.

“Hilliard!” He reached the house and pounded up the stairs. “Get your ass on outside and switch with me for a bit.”

There was no reply as he strode in the opened door of the house. Glancing around, he came up empty. Where the hell were they? He paused and breathed in slowly through his nostrils but couldn’t catch anything besides their fading scents. Scents which led outside.

Dammit. Hilliard must’ve taken her out for a walk.

Again, the idea of the two of them alone had something ugly building inside him, but he tried to push it aside. He turned to go back out and find them, but paused.

She’s hiding something. Quinton’s words taunted him. A reminder that the older agent was right. Sienna was hiding something. And if Warrick didn’t find out what it was soon, she’d be getting a nice shot of sodium pentothal.

He’d almost forgotten that night she’d tried to slip out of the house and he’d found the cell phone she’d somehow managed to keep hidden. When he’d asked her what else she was hiding, there’d been fear in her eyes.

So whatever it was, she either had it on her right now, or it was somewhere in the house. And it had to be small, because she’d obviously hidden it in her dress the night they’d taken her from the lab.

With everyone out of the house, now was probably the time to try and find it.

Warrick moved slowly back into the house, down the hallway and toward the room they shared. His gaze slid around the room. Now all he had to do was try to think like a woman and figure out where the hell she would’ve hidden it.

First off. The bedroom. He started with searching drawers, beneath the bed and mattress, the windowsill. And came up with nothing. Once he was fairly certain it wasn’t in the actual bedroom, he turned his attention to the master bathroom.

The shower—not like he’d expected to find much in there—yielded nothing but soap, shampoo and conditioner. He moved to the counter, checking all the little nooks and crannies above and below.