"Private contractors," Jack said.

"The government?" Heather asked. "Are you here to arrest me for-""No, nothing like that. It's an international company. We get hired to help any country indiscriminately, and this has nothing to do with...with..." Brett suddenly looked uncomfortable and wouldn't meet Heather's eyes.

"Prost.i.tution," Jack filled in.

Heather felt her face burn and looked away.

"Real subtle, Jack." Brett stared at Jack with a piqued expression for a few seconds. "This doesn't involve Direct Connect. This is about your client, Dario. We have reasons to believe he works with Andor Rozsa."

"Isn't he the guy who spread the H1N6 virus?" Heather asked.

"Yup, it's that son of a b.i.t.c.h," Jack replied.

The papers and TV news reports had been full of little else for months-first reporting on the millions dead or dying from the virus, and then, just a few weeks ago, relaying word that the man * 200 *

responsible for it all had eluded capture. "Oh, my G.o.d. I had no idea. But Rozsa disappeared."

"Yes, no one can find him," Brett said. "And it's very important we do."

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d has my girlfriend hostage." Jack clenched her fists. Heather saw pain as well as fury in the woman's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I still don't understand what this has to do with me. I mean...I had no idea Dario was involved in any of this."

"We know," Brett said.

"How did you find out Dario was seeing me?" Brett still wouldn't look at her. She kept staring at the floor.

"He made an electronic payment to Rozsa from the brownstone's IP address."

"Why would he do that?"

"We don't know. We a.s.sume he panicked for some reason.

When we checked out the IP address we discovered that the building belonged to Direct Connect. After that, it was just a matter of finding out who was there during the time of the transaction." Brett paused, and when she continued her voice was almost apologetic. "Everyone present that night: girls, customers, Ma.s.simo, were all suspect. You included."

"But how did you find my real name?"

"We followed you to your house," Brett said.

"And checked the registry," Jack added. "I've been shadowing you for a week. We also know about your day job." Heather looked at Brett. "And my brother?" Brett nodded without looking up.

"That night at the Cave, you came looking for me."

"Yes," Brett said.

"That's why you asked for my number. Why you asked me out."Brett sighed. "Yes."

Heather reached for the coffee table and grabbed the graphic novel from under the Cosmo. "But you signed this as the author."

* 201 *

Brett took it from her. "Because I am. Cooland is my pseudonym," she said, and looked at Jack.

"Your day job," Heather said.

"Of sorts."

"What pseudonym?" Jack asked. "What are you talking about?" She looked from Heather to Brett.

Brett looked uncomfortable as she handed the graphic novel across the table to her.

Jack stared at the cover for several seconds, then opened it to the inscription page. "Well, f.u.c.k me."

"I was going to tell you," Brett said.

"You're Cooland?" Jack asked.

Brett nodded. "I have been for eight years."

"Well, d.a.m.n." Jack shook her head in disbelief and glanced down at the novel again. "Why didn't you let me know?"

"Oh, I don't know." Brett shrugged. "Maybe because I haven't exactly been in the mood to share anything with you."

"You clearly don't have a problem sharing your opinion about me.""Not now, Jack."

"You started it," Jack mumbled, and looked back down at the novel. "Hey, this is next month's issue."

"It's a proof," Brett said.

"It's for my brother," Heather said pointedly. Jack was clearly coveting it.

"Why does he get one?" Jack asked Brett.

"Can we do this later?" Brett turned to Heather, but once again avoided eye contact. "We've been following you because we thought you were somehow connected to Rozsa."

"And you don't think so anymore."

"Correct," Brett said.

"Why not?"

"Because it's obvious you're clueless as to who Dario is," Jack replied.

"Obvious how? I mean, I am...but why are you now convinced I'm not involved?"

* 202 *

Brett squirmed and looked down at her feet. "We had your room at the brownstone bugged and heard tonight's conversation.

It's clear you-"

"Bugged? When? How?" The humiliation she'd endured in that room flooded back as images of what she'd done for Dario flashed in her mind. Heat rose to her face. "How long have you been listening in?"

"For a week," Jack said.

"You listened while I-" She couldn't look at Brett.

"Yeah," Jack said. "I know this must be very uncomfortable for you, but if it's any consolation, it's nothing we haven't heard before."

"Smooth again, Jack," Brett said, her tone tinged with reproach.

"Consolation?" Mortification began to quickly give way to anger. "That's a violation of my privacy. G.o.d, this is so embarra.s.sing." Heather jumped to her feet, her rising fury so immense she felt as though she'd burst. She glared down at Brett. "You asked me out.

We...you just stood there and watched me make a fool of myself.

Why? It's not like you confronted me with any of this, so why did you ask me out?"

Brett kept her gaze glued to the floor. "I promised you the novel for your brother."

"Only to get my number. Besides, you could have mailed it."

"She asked you out because we needed to get you away from your apartment," Jack said.

Heather turned toward Jack so fast she heard her neck crack.

"What?"

"While she kept you busy," Jack said, "I was in here looking through your notepad, copying the Dario dates the agency gave you.""How do you know about those?" Heather's head began to pound.

"We tapped your phone," Jack replied.

They were listening in, even here. In her private sanctuary, the only place she'd felt truly safe. The admission stole the fight from her. Heather dropped onto the couch. "This whole clandestine show * 203 *

has been taking place right under my nose, and I..." She suddenly felt more lost and confused-and violated-than she could ever remember. "First Dario, now you. Christ, who else knows? The local news?"

Brett still avoided eye contact. "No one else knows. We're sorry we had to go to such extremes, but-" Heather raised her hand. "Enough!" she shouted, and rubbed her temples to calm down. "It's clear I have nothing to do with Dario or Rozsa or viruses and whatever the h.e.l.l else you thought I was involved in. So please remove your spy devices and stay the h.e.l.l away from me. Do you hear me, Brett?"

Brett finally looked at her. "It's not that simple." Heather felt like pulling her hair. Was her life really unraveling before her eyes?

She went to the door and opened it. "I want you both to leave.

Right now."

* 204 *

ChaPter twenty-two.

Chase got up and walked toward the door, and Jack followed a pace behind, but both stopped when they got within reach of Heather. "We need your help," Chase said. She was standing so close to Heather she couldn't help inhaling her scent. Her hair smelled of spice and vanilla, and the enticing aroma was making it hard to keep her focus. Everything about this woman intoxicated her. "Please, just hear what we have to say," she said softly as she dropped her gaze to Heather's mouth.

In her bare feet, Heather was a couple of inches shorter than she was, and she looked down as she seemed to consider how to answer, so Chase couldn't see the expression in her eyes.

When Heather finally looked up at her, it was with such intensity that Chase's breath caught. Her heart began to pound and it took all her willpower to back up a step instead of following the overwhelming compulsion to close the inches separating them.

Heather had a quizzical look on her face, and Chase was certain she looked just as confused.

"Help you how?" Heather asked.

"Why don't we sit back down?" Chase suggested.

She and Jack both waited where they were as Heather started toward the couch. Even without makeup, in jeans and a T-shirt, this woman was incredibly beautiful. She couldn't stop staring.

"Focus, Landor. Emily is off bounds," Jack said.

* 205 *

Heather turned to look at Chase, and Chase saw bewilderment give way to recognition. "He looks like you," she said. "And Emily...she..."

"Looks like you," Chase said, intent on Heather.

"While this is all very cool in a creepy kinda way, can we get back to why we need her help?" Jack asked.

"I need to use the bathroom," Heather said abruptly, and shut herself away in the adjoining room.

Chase took the armchair this time. She needed to put some distance between herself and Heather, especially since Heather looked particularly uncomfortable.

"What's up with the musical chairs?" Jack asked. "You're in my spot."

"Have you lost every sense of decorum?" she mumbled. "Just sit on the couch."

"Easy, champ, this awkwardness is all you."

"The awkwardness is because you can't censor what comes out of your mouth."

"Hey, give me a break. I'm pretty surprised here, too. Who knew all those hours of doodling would lead to Landor."

"Try to deal with it mutely and sit down."

"You're in my chair," Jack repeated.

Heather came out of the bathroom, still looking uncomfortable.

"She's back," Chase said in a low voice. "Sit the f.u.c.k down or I'll hurt you."