Breath Of Malice Part 6

Paige swallowed quickly. "Fine. I'm fine."

Sam looked like he was going to argue the point, but Paige didn't give him the chance. The last thing she wanted was to have her face broadcasted by the media. She didn't know whether these stations were local or if the story they ran would get picked up by the national networks, in which case Thames might see her on the news.

"I'm fine," Paige said for a third time as she backed away from Sam. "I dropped something inside the house. Can you let the others know to go on without me? I'll make my own way back."

"Paige-"

Ignoring Sam, she scrambled back to the house. Rather than going inside, she went to the rear, where the house backed onto a railway yard. The area behind the house had a short chain-link fence.

Paige nodded to the fresh-faced cops guarding the back, then went over the fence and made her way into the railway yard.

She didn't take a full breath until the noise and bright lights from the police and the media had faded in the distance.

She exited onto a street in a quiet residential neighborhood, then called a taxi to take her back to the Bureau office to retrieve her rental.

"Boss, you sticking around?"

Sam didn't respond to Mike. Instead, he walked away and returned to the house. Sam flagged down one of the women on the crime scene team inside the house. "Did you see where Agent Carson went?"

The agent shook her head. "No, sir. Did she come back in here? I haven't seen her since she left with you."

Sam took a look in another room. No Paige. In the back room, he caught sight of her through the window. She was making her way across the railway yard. What the h.e.l.l?

Had she seen something and gone to investigate? Sam's gut tightened. There was more than enough light to see that her weapon wasn't drawn. She wasn't moving with any kind of stealth. No, then. Not that. Where was she going?

Sam went out the back door but lost her. He vaulted over the fence into the railway yard and spotted her at the end of it. She was getting into a cab.

She'd looked sick before she took off for the house. No . . . not sick . . . spooked. The thought didn't sit well with Sam. She'd appeared fine before they'd left the house. Though she'd only been with the Bureau a short time and though most of that time had been spent out of the field, she'd conducted herself during the raid like a veteran. What the h.e.l.l had spooked her? Sam rubbed a hand down his face. She was wound tight, and not just tonight. Something was going on with her.

It wasn't like him to insinuate himself into the lives and private business of his agents. Or it hadn't been, before Paige. Yesterday on his deck, when she'd mentioned her guardians.h.i.+p of Ivy, Sam had wanted to know more.

The first day he'd met her, he'd thought she wasn't what he'd been led to believe. Sam was coming to realize there was a lot more to Paige than a pretty face.

There was something going on with her. He was back to that. Paige didn't know him well. Didn't know what she could trust him with or if she could trust him at all. It surprised him how much he wanted her to trust him.

Which left him where? He should take a step back. Give her time to see that she could come to him. But he wasn't going to do that. Even though he could tell she wanted to keep her emotions concealed, they were more open than she realized.

She'd looked afraid, alone. Was that how she felt? Sam pressed his lips together at the grim thought. It bothered him that she felt that way.

He rubbed the back of his neck at the tension that had knotted there thinking of Paige working through whatever it was that had put that look in her eyes on her own. The urge to go to her and find out what was going on pulled at him.

"Sam, you out here?"

Sam recognized the voice of Agent Carl Dodd from the central office. He could see Carl at the back of the drug house, in the glow of the lights r.i.m.m.i.n.g the crime scene perimeter. It was Sam himself who was in relative darkness behind one of the railway cars. "In the railway yard," Sam called back.

He knew Carl and others were waiting to meet with him. Sam pushed his thoughts of Paige aside and left the yard.

CHAPTER NINE.

Paige jerked awake gasping for breath, bathed in perspiration. Her heart was beating way too fast. A nightmare. Just a nightmare. She was fine. She was all right. She was in Kirk County. She hadn't been seen by the media. Thames hadn't found her.

When she arrived home after the raid, she'd turned on her laptop and logged onto the Bureau's database, conducting her usual search for female murder victims. She found nothing that matched Thames's MO, but the images of his three known victims played over and over in an endless loop in her mind, following her into sleep.

Gulping air now, Paige focused on regulating her breathing. But deep breathing wasn't going to cut it. She was restless, edgy. It was early, but she wouldn't attempt to go back to sleep. Sleep held only horror for her.

She left the bed and switched off the TV that was now showing only a blue screen. Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in shorts and a loose fitting T-s.h.i.+rt that concealed the weapon clipped to her waistband, she checked on her sister. Ivy was sprawled on her stomach, one arm flung across the deep-purple sheets, making her usual soft snuffling sounds that, in better times, Paige used to be able to tease her about. Paige wasn't up to thinking about all that was wrong between her and Ivy now. It was all Paige could do to handle her thoughts of Thames.

In case Ivy woke, Paige left a quick note letting her sister know she was going for a run in Kirk County Park. Harry had told Paige there were jogging trails there. Paige grabbed a bottle of water, a sports drink, and a towel, then drove away from the apartment complex.

The sun was just streaking through a break in the clouds, weak and thready with first light. For the most part, the sky was heavy with gray clouds that promised the rain the local weather station had predicted the night before. Paige knew it might start raining before she was finished with her run. If so, so be it.

She was straining to get moving. Foregoing a warm up, she set off. A couple of other people were also on the trail. Paige narrowed her eyes, looking for any sign that they might be watching her. When she saw nothing alarming, she ran by a woman pumping her arms and humming whatever she was listening to through her earbuds. Paige envied the woman the luxury of being able to listen to music, the fact that she didn't need to be attuned to every sound around her.

Feeling hunted by Thames, Paige picked up her pace once, then twice, as if she could outrun him. Her blood began to pump as she broke a sweat. A couple of small fluffy dogs leading their owner barked as she streaked by them. For the most part, though, she ran in silence except for the rhythmic slap of her athletic shoes against the dry earth.

She turned onto one of the paths that led to Creek Road. A few hearty wildflowers flanked one side of the path, scenting the air. Tall trees with branches that appeared to droop with the weight of Spanish moss flanked the other side.

She pushed herself harder. The nightmares left her feeling powerless, as Thames had on that mountain. The trail circled back to the parking lot, but Paige wasn't ready to stop. Leaving the park behind, she ran back toward her home.

Her apartment building came into view. She ran past the building, on and on, though her heart felt as if it was beating triple-time and her lungs felt ready to burst. Her foot caught on a groove in the sidewalk. She stumbled hard but caught herself before she fell, then leaned gasping against a streetlight post.

Her pulse was pounding quick beats. Her breath was coming too hard. Stupid. Stupid to push herself this way and risk injury. Injured, she'd be a sitting duck for Thames. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes. She was unraveling, coming apart. One by one, Thames's pursuit, his release were pulling out the tenuous threads holding her together.

A vehicle came to a stop behind her, braking hard.

"Paige!"

Her head darted up. She whirled. The driver's door of a sedan flew open. Her hand went to her Glock before she registered that the sedan was the one Sam had driven to the raid last night, that the voice calling her name belonged to Sam, that the man rus.h.i.+ng toward her was Sam.

Lines around his eyes and mouth were pulled taut, and his brow was puckered in obvious concern. Sam came to a stop in front of her. He gripped her shoulders and looked her over for injuries. "You okay?"

He'd obviously seen her stumble and nearly go down. She was still shaky from thinking someone had followed her and was working to regain her composure. On top of that, she felt embarra.s.sed. "I'm fine." Then another thought struck her. "What are you doing here?"

Sam's gaze remained laser sharp on her. Paige wasn't injured, and she figured as soon as Sam saw that for himself, the tension she felt coming off him would ease. It didn't.

Mouth tight, he said, "Let's go for breakfast."

Paige shook her head and felt her ponytail swing. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. You know, that meal we have in the morning."

Paige was still wound tight herself. She exhaled a deep breath. "I need to get my car."

He was still holding her shoulders, and his grip tightened a bit. "We can pick it up after we eat."

Sam's impatience was obvious. What was that about? He was still driving the sedan rather than his own vehicle. He was still wearing the gear he'd put on yesterday for the raid. His cheeks and jaw were dark with stubble. His eyes were heavy lidded. He looked like he hadn't slept all night.

She frowned. "Have you been home at all since the raid?"

"I went to your apartment from there."

He had pulled an all-nighter, then. Instead of going home, he'd come to her? Why would he do that? Had something happened after she and the others had left? Her questions were going to have to wait. Sam released her, then turned and headed straight for the sedan, putting an end to their conversation. He obviously wasn't going to say anything more now.

Paige followed him to the car and they drove off. Within a few minutes he parked in front of the Main Street Diner. Sam held the door for an elderly couple who smiled their thanks, then waited for Paige to precede him. The rain hadn't started and the temperature was climbing. Paige welcomed the change from the sticky heat outside to the cool air in the diner.

Paige inhaled the scents of coffee brewing and bacon frying. She scanned the diner, as had become her habit, but there were only a few customers at the tables, one waitress, and the cook, a man visible above a half wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

Sam led them to a side table. Paige claimed a seat, and Sam took the one across from her. A waitress joined them right away, preventing Paige from asking Sam why he'd gone to her apartment.

Pus.h.i.+ng up her gla.s.ses, the woman said with a smile, "Hey, Sam."

"Cathy, this is Paige."

"Hey, Paige. What can I get y'all?"

"Coffee to start would be great, Cathy," Sam said.

"You got it." Cathy gave Paige a smile, then pointed to the laminated menu with a huge orange rooster logo that also served as a place mat. "I'll give you a few minutes to take a look."

Paige's mind wasn't on the food. Returning her attention to Sam, she asked, "How did you find me?"

"Ivy told me you went for a run. I was waiting for you in your parking lot, and when I saw you run by the building, I realized you weren't going home and went after you."

"Why were you waiting for me?"

"I wanted to talk with you."

At six o'clock in the morning? "What about?" She wanted to add: What couldn't wait until she went into the office a few hours later?

"About the raid."

Paige felt a rush of anxiety, familiar from her time with the New York squad. Had Sam found her lacking during the raid? "Was there something more you needed? I thought we were done for the night."

"You were. It's not that."

Cathy returned with their coffees. "Ready to order?"

"Paige?" Sam asked.

Absently, Paige said, "Whatever you're having is fine."

Sam said to Cathy, "The number five, please. Make it two and an order of pancakes and home fries to go."

Cathy scribbled on a notepad. "Picking up for Jonah?"

"No. Jonah's with his mother. This order is for Paige's sister."

That drew Paige's attention from herself. "Ivy?"

"She doesn't have a cla.s.s until ten," Sam said, "and I told her I'd bring her breakfast."

Ivy had told Sam about her late cla.s.s. Paige felt a pain that Sam knew that about Ivy while Paige herself did not.

Cathy nodded. "Sure thing. It'll be up in a jiff, hon."

When they were alone again, Sam looked to Paige. The few lines around his eyes and mouth pulled tighter. "I saw you leave last night."

Paige's insides tightened. "I told you I was leaving."

He watched her, never taking his eyes from hers. "You told me you were going into the house to get something you'd dropped. I went after you, but you didn't go into the house. You were in the back, in the train yard. I thought you might have seen someone else suspicious out there and went after you, but you got into a cab."

Paige knew better than to volunteer information. "Okay."

"You're wary. Jumpy." Sam eyed her. "Something is going on with you. Tell me what that is."

Paige's breath caught. She had to work to take another breath. "There's nothing going on with me."

His voice even, he asked, "Why did you take a cab home last night instead of going with the squad?"

Sam didn't break eye contact. Paige believed she was getting a glimpse of what he was like in an interrogation, how skilled he was, how powerful. Despite the chill in the diner, Paige was sweating. "Harry mentioned going out for wings and beer. I needed to go back to the office to get the car, and"-she shrugged, affecting indifference-"more than that, I didn't want to cramp their style if they were looking to hook up at a bar."

Sam leaned across the table toward her. His eyes showed frustration, but along with it Paige saw tenderness. "You can trust me."

That tenderness was almost her undoing. She needed to give him something to throw him off the scent, but just now she felt the full weight of her situation and couldn't come up with words that would deter him. He wanted her to trust him. She was so tired of not being able to trust anyone. He couldn't possibly know how much she wished she could trust him. Her throat grew so tight it burned. She forced out her next words. "I've learned that I can't trust anyone."

Cathy appeared with their breakfasts and a container with Ivy's takeout and set everything on the table. "Enjoy."

As Cathy left them, Paige got to her feet. Her handbag was locked in the trunk of her rental car. Sam would have to get the meals. Swallowing hard, she said, "I'll see that Ivy gets her breakfast."

Paige picked up the container and left the diner.

Back at his place, Sam stepped under the shower. Bracing his hands against the tile, he let the hot spray pound his shoulders and sluice down his back. He was tired, going on more than thirty hours without sleep. But he didn't think he could sleep even if he did close his eyes. He couldn't get Paige out of his mind.

When he had seen her run by the apartment building earlier, he'd been surprised that she hadn't stopped. Kirk County Park was a fair distance from where she lived and would have provided a good workout, but she'd kept going. And she hadn't been moving at a leisurely jog. She'd been running as if the devil himself had been chasing her. Sam had been set to get out of the car and put himself between her and whoever might be after her, but there was no one. Then she'd stumbled. Sam's gut went tight as a fist remembering that. He didn't want to think about how badly she could have been hurt if she'd hit the concrete.

At the restaurant, her parting words, that she couldn't trust anyone, struck him. The pain behind them hit him, pain Sam knew would have felled a weaker person.

She'd pulled herself together. Before his eyes, she'd put herself back together, but he couldn't get the sight of her fighting this battle on her own out of his head.

Something from her past? Personal or professional? Her emotions had been laid bare just then, as open as Sam had ever seen her, and for an instant, there'd been a vulnerability in her eyes, a yearning, as if she'd wanted desperately to be able to tell him whatever was going on with her. The s.h.i.+elds she'd erected around herself had come down, and he'd gotten a glimpse of everything she was feeling.