Jack had killed this sweet, wonderful girl. Chase looked at the useless gun in her hand. She wanted to scream out her fury and attack Jack, but Jack would shoot without hesitation. Not because Jack wouldn't recognize her, but because the look in her eyes was that of a cold killer. The Jack she knew was gone.

"Get down. I have him," Jack said to someone Chase couldn't see, before she took down one of the feds and, a moment later, one of the Italians.

Chase remained hidden and didn't make a sound.

After another minute, the arms dealer himself crawled out from behind some cover and joined Jack. "Kill Stellari," he told her.

"That's what you paid me for, that's what I'll do."

"When did you get here?" the Russian asked, wiping the sweat from his face.

"I was here before you," Jack said.

"That's why they call you Silent Death."

"Yeah," Jack replied, and fired. The dom crumpled to the floor.

The feds kept shooting in all directions except theirs.

"I pay you anything you want if you get me out of here," the arms dealer said.

"What's it worth to you? My fee was for Stellari, not for saving your a.s.s."

"Double."

"Follow me," Jack replied. She led him safely away, through the door Chase had been headed toward with Regina.

* 129 *

To this day, Chase still couldn't answer why she hadn't told the EOO about Jack.

The experience had changed her. Since then, Chase had avoided any kind of intimacy, especially with women who mattered. Losing Regina had cost her too much, and as long as she lived a life of such uncertainty it was painful and pointless to drag anyone else into it. Just like Landor, she'd stick to easy and uncomplicated if she couldn't have the one she wanted. Only in this case, the woman she wanted was dead.

"You still in there?" Jack's voice startled her out of her reverie.

Chase fought an overwhelming urge to say something cruel.

She wanted to confront Jack with who she was and what she knew, but that would make an already unpleasant working situation impossible. Maybe she'd let it all out once this job was done. Maybe she'd finally let Jack have what was coming to her. Maybe. "I heard you the first time," she finally replied.

"Time's wasting. Christ, what's wrong with you? Remember Ca.s.s?"

"I'm calling already," Chase said. "Just shut up."

"About d.a.m.n time."

Chase reluctantly pushed Dial on her phone. She watched Heather on the monitor as she reached for her cell.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, Heather. This is Brett, from the Cave." Heather smiled. "Of course. I remember who you are."

"Are you busy? Is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all."

"Excellent. I was wondering if you had time to meet with me tonight?"

"For a signed copy?" Heather asked.

"Right. I was in Manhattan anyway, so-"

"I'd love...I mean, sure. My brother hasn't stopped talking about you ever since I told him."

"I'm flattered. So when is convenient for you?"

"Can you give me an hour? How about you pick me up?" Heather asked.

* 130 *

Chase checked her watch. "Of course. Just tell me where." Heather gave Chase the address they were sitting in front of.

"I'll be there at seven," Chase said.

"Great. See you in a little."

"I look forward to it." As Chase hung up, she watched Heather head into her bedroom. She pulled several ensembles from the closet, a mix of casual and dressy, and laid them on the bed, pursing her lips while she considered which to wear.

"Now, was that so hard?" Jack asked.

Chase turned to face her as the urge to physically hurt Jack returned. "Don't push it, Harding."

They were interrupted by Heather's voice on the audio feed from her landline. She'd picked up the phone beside the bed. "Hey, it's me. Guess who called?"

"Landor?"

"Brett, you idiot." Heather laughed.

"Do you have a date?"

"We're getting together for the signed copy."

"Yes!" Adam shouted through the phone.

"Okay, gotta run. Need to get dressed."

"Wear something nice," he said.

"Don't I always?"

"I guess, but if you really impress her, maybe she'll stick around long enough for you to introduce us."

"I can't promise," Heather said.

"Which part? That you'll impress her, that she'll stick around, or that you'll introduce us?"

"All of the above. Hanging up now."

"Later."

Heather plucked an ensemble from the bed and hurried toward the bathroom.

"Call me crazy, but she's actually looking forward to your...

date." Jack laughed.

"Why is that so funny?"

"Who knew she'd want to give you a freebie?"

"And that has you giggling like a schoolgirl?"

* 131 *

Jack nodded. "I think it's hysterical. Can you handle it, not having to pay?"

"How can you be bright enough to keep a job and still find something that stupid, funny?"

"I'm complicated."

"I don't intend to sleep with her," Chase said.

"Maybe she has other plans."

"She doesn't."

"Either way," Jack said, "do whatever it takes to keep her away from the house."

* 132 *

ChaPter Fourteen.

Heather paced from the living room into the bedroom, pausing to check herself in the dresser mirror for the tenth time. Her hair was perfect, her makeup flawless, and the ensemble she'd selected would be appropriate attire no matter where they might end up. Black dress trousers, a bronze Neiman Marcus cardigan-sh.e.l.l set, and black two-inch heels, which would bring her up to Brett's height. "Get a grip," she said to her image. It's only for a drink, and you're never going to see her again.

When her bell rang, she jumped. Why was she so nervous?

She buzzed Brett into the building and took deep breaths to calm her rapid heartbeat as she waited for her to come upstairs. But her hands still shook as she reached for the door to answer the knock.

"Hi, there, come on in."

Brett Coltrane looked even better than she remembered from the dark club. Dressed in jeans, a black turtleneck and leather jacket, she exuded an almost overwhelming strength. She smiled. "Good to see you again."

"Can I get you something to drink, or...?" Heather asked.

"I didn't make any plans, but I thought you might like to go out for dinner or something."

"Oh." Heather hadn't counted on a prolonged evening with Brett. She was actually hoping to make it fast and simple. As much as she was looking forward to seeing her, she didn't need any complications in her life and wanted to avoid a situation that might invite too many personal questions.

* 133 *

"I'm sorry if I was being presumptuous. We don't have to, if you'd rather not." Even the way Brett talked exuded charm.

"No, please. I just didn't-" She couldn't be rude. "I'd like that," Heather finally said.

"Great. I'm ready when you are." Brett handed her a small paper bag. "This is for your brother." Heather took out the graphic novel, wrapped in a protective plastic sleeve. She didn't read them herself, but she'd bought enough for her brother to know this looked...different, somehow.

The binding. She turned it over to look at the cover. It had next month's date on it and the words arTisT's PrOOF written in small letters on the bottom right corner.

"I had the publisher print an extra proof," Brett said. "The issue doesn't come out for another couple of weeks." Heather's brother would be beyond thrilled. She looked up at Brett. "Thank you so much. He's going to scream when he sees it." Brett laughed, her low tone s.e.xy. Heather had to look away for a second to make her brain work again. If she continued to stare into those amazing blue eyes they'd spend the evening in front of her door. She left the paper bag on the table and grabbed her coat.

"Here, let me." Brett motioned for the garment.

Heather let her take it and turned her back. She could have sworn getting her coat on lasted for an hour. Like time stopped, and all she could feel were Brett's slow, deliberate movements. Brett stood right behind her, and she felt the overwhelming need to back up until their bodies touched. She didn't move until Brett put her hands on her shoulders.

"Ready?" Brett whispered into her ear.

Heather shivered. G.o.d, it had been too long since she'd felt anything but dread at someone's touch. "Yes." When Heather trembled beneath her hands, Chase woke from the near trance she'd fallen in because of their proximity. Heather looked stunning tonight, and her perfume, an earthy-spicy blend, was intoxicating. "The cab is waiting," she said abruptly, and headed out the door, suddenly desperate for fresh air.

She held the cab door for Heather and slid in beside her.

* 134 *

As they pulled away from the curb, Heather turned to her. "I never asked, are you from New York?"

"Boston. But I spend a lot of time in the Apple."

"Business?"

"Mostly, but the occasional pleasure pops up." Why had she said that? Chase rarely came to New York unless completely necessary. She must, for some subliminal reason, not want Heather to think she was in any way special.

"I'm glad you could drop by." Heather smiled.