Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] (12 page)

She shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me."

"It doesn't," he said firmly. "She
isn't from Nuria. If
she was, I'd know. But that still doesn't explain
your
presence." "I thought I'd check to see if any strangers have
passed
through or if you've received reports of similar
incidents."

“You think I'm leaving deaths unreported," he
challenged,
knowing full well he
had
—but he'd be damned
if he'd tell
her that.

"No," Gina said hastily.

"Good." Morgan sat
back, resting his hands behind his head in attempt to appear more casual than
he felt. "You know it's against regulations for me to fail to re
port any unusual incidents that
result in death to the
tactical
team."

"I know that and no one is saying you've done
anything wrong." she reassured. "I wondered if perhaps something
might have slipped by you."

Morgan let out a pained laugh. "Of course."
He
shook his head. "You think we locals
can't handle
little things like crime solving or reporting problems
when they arise. How did I make it through training without the IPTT there to
babysit me?"

Her voice rose. "That's not what I'm
saying!"

"Then what exactly are you accusing me of?"
He sat forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Her hot breath brushed
against his stubbled face, leaving fire in its wake. Awareness flared between
them. "Need I remind you that all republics are self-
governing, and the Republic of Arizona is no
different.
The tactical team has no jurisdiction here unless a murder
has been committed and you said yourself it was an animal attack."

Gina stood, breaking the
contact. "Listen. I didn't
come here to fight. I'm here on my own time. My com
mander closed the case on Lisa
Solomon, even though
I
think there's more to her death than a simple animal
attack." She clenched her jaw as if she'd said
more
than she intended. Her face flushed and
her lips pursed.

Damn if she didn't look sexy when she was mad. Morgan
schooled his expression. "I still don't understand why
you
are
here."

"I came here because I thought maybe you could
help me, but obviously it's too much trouble."

Relief flooded Morgan. With her case closed, he was
free to hunt the killer in his own time. "I'm not sure how you expect me
to assist you on a nonexistent case, so I guess we're done here. You'll
probably
want to be on your way.
I'm
sure you have a long ride
ahead of
you."

"Trying to get rid of me, Sheriff?"

Morgan chose to lie. "Not at all."

"Good, because I thought I might stick around for
a couple of days and explore your town. It's quaint. I've never seen anything
quite like it."

"Suit yourself." Morgan reached for the
nearest water canteen. He tilted the jug and took a deep swig. Gina stared at
him. It took him a second to realize he'd grabbed her canteen. Too late now. He
tipped the container again. Water poured out of its spout.

He could almost taste the impression her full lips
left behind on the opening. If a trace of her mouth tasted this sweet, what
would the real thing be like? His body shuddered at the thought. Morgan tried
to recall the last time he'd fucked one of his own kind. His mind blanked.

It had been too long since he'd had a
real
woman.

Red watched the columns of Morgan's throat work as
he
swallowed
the water. Why she found
the action so
 fascinating, she couldn't say. As though reading her
mind, he grinned, flashing stark white teeth against a naturally tanned face.

Was he flirting with her? Did she mind if he was?

Bannon's words about spreading her legs filtered
through Red's mind. Was that what Morgan Hunter expected from her?

The thought chilled any desire
she might have felt.
Red's face grew
hard, her body rigid. She sat once
more.
"Have you seen or heard anything out of the
ordinary?" she
asked, her voice brisk.

Morgan snorted, placing the canteen back on his
desk. "This is a boundary town. What do you
think?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes." He sighed.
"I know what you mean." Mor
gan
ran a hand through his long hair. "Nothing unusual, but you'd be the
first person I'd tell if I had. Our kind need to stick together."

"Our kind?" Red frowned. "What exactly
do you mean by our kind?"

Silence filled the space. His eyes widened a frac
tion, before settling back into a mask of
mundane. "I
meant law enforcement."

"Oh, it sounded like .. . Never mind. Doesn't matter."
Red shook her head, not believing for a second that was what he'd meant. His
pat answer troubled her. She'd noted the change in his demeanor. Hell,
with them being so close together in this small
space,
she'd caught the subtle change in his scent.

Morgan Hunter had just lied and Red had no idea why.

chapter seven

The main food dispensing station sat on the cor
ner of Pine Street
and took up half a block. The
building itself resembled the images Red had seen of
theaters back in the twentieth century when
viewing
entertainment was made of film. Faded vin
tage movie posters hung on the
sun-bleached walls
advertising
Harry
Potter, The Trouble with Harry,
and
Dirty Hurry.

Red wasn't familiar with these particular movies, but
she was sure her grandfather had seen them, if any copies survived the last
war. Metal double doors marked the entrance, muting the sounds of the crowd
inside. Red's stomach fluttered and she tensed,
reaching down to rub the wrist that Rita normally oc
cupied.
Bare skin met her fingertips. She shouldn't feel naked without her navcom, but
she did. Red took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

She still couldn't believe she'd allowed Morgan to
talk her into coming here. This was a mistake.

They pushed their way inside. The doors closed with a
whoosh behind them. The place was busier than she'd expected. Customers
gathered around a couple of dozen stainless-steel tables, talking and laughing.
The tables were squeezed in tight squares to accommodate the crowd. Wait staff
dressed in white uniforms distributed a steady flow of food and drinks.

It was probably a good thing that she had left Rita in
the room. The last thing Red needed was for her navcom going off every few
minutes because of the change in her vitals.

Somewhere in the prep area,
behind a set of swing
ing doors. Red
caught bits of Roark Montgomery's clipped voice coming from a broadcast. The
man
seemed to be popping up everywhere
lately, his popu
larity building
like the wind before a storm.

The unknowns are being aided by the Others and I
intend to prove it. We can't
allow
these criminals to continue unpunished.

Red considered his words. If what he said was true,
that would certainly explain the increase in boundary crossings that the
tactical team had been dealing with lately. Morgan's gentle touch to her el
bow brought her out of her reverie. Roark's
broadcast
faded into the kitchen clatter. She glanced his way.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Morgan stared at
her as if he knew she was about to bolt. She gave him a firm nod and stepped
forward, leaving the shadows of the entryway behind. The place fell silent;
even the waiters clearing the tables stopped banging plates. Curious glances
shot their way, along with smiles and the occasional nod of approval. Heat
poured off Morgan's body, bathing her in warmth. Oddly, she found his nearness
reassuring instead of overbearing, and took a step closer.

Red glanced around at the
captivated crowd, her discomfort growing. "It doesn't look like there's
anything available." she said, hoping Morgan would take the not
so subtle hint. She wanted to
leave and go somewhere
less public. The attention was making her uneasy.

Morgan didn't answer her.
Instead, he stared at the
patrons, slowly making eye contact with each one. Sev
eral looked away or cast their
eyes down. He coughed, emitting a low guttural sound that barely registered as
human. Then everyone suddenly began speaking like
they'd never stopped.

Red found the reaction strange, but was too grateful
to have the crowd's attention elsewhere to care. The sheriff obviously wielded
a tremendous amount of control over the town. Odd, but understandable given
Nuria's relative location to the boundary fence. At least she'd be able to
enjoy a meal now without her stomach knotting.

"Follow me," Morgan
said, leading her to an empty
table near
the back.

"Was this here a moment ago?" Red asked,
sure she hadn't seen it.

"They can add tables with the press of a button
in this place." He tapped his boot on a seam in the floor to indicate
where the table had come from. "It can come in handy sometimes."

"Like now?"

Morgan grinned. "Yeah, like now. Is this okay for
you?" he asked before pulling her scat out for her.

Red glanced at his hand, so
unaccustomed to the po
lite
gesture that she almost forgot what to do. She nod
ded her acceptance and then sat as he scooted the
chair in. Had anyone other than her grandfather ever treated
her this
way? Red couldn't recall, which probably meant no.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked without
thinking.

Morgan stopped next to his chair, gold eyes locked on
her face. "Maybe I'm trying to change your opinion about
us
locals."

"You think it needs changing?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

Red smiled, not convinced for a second that's why he'd
invited her to dinner.

Morgan took his seat.

A list of offerings filled the
screen of the mini comp-
unit on the table.
Red watched as Morgan scrolled
down the
screen. While he perused the menu, a waiter
dropped off two canteens of
water.

"Does anything look good to you?" he asked.

"Meat is fine. That is if Nuria receives bovine
and pork shipments," she added quickly, since a lot of towns couldn't
afford fresh meat and had to settle for genetically engineered protein packets.
"Whatever is available. I'm not picky. I'll eat anything."

Morgan grinned. "Relax, we have plenty of fresh
meat. We just received a shipment the other day.
How
do you want it prepared? Bloody?"

She laughed. "Perfect."

He nodded and punched in their choices. His gaze
lingered longer than necessary on the mini compunit. "How long have you
been on the tactical team, Ms. Santiago?"

"Please, call me Gina."

His eyes rested on her. "Okay,
Gina.
Are
you going to answer my question?"

"I didn't realize this was a working
dinner," she said, debating whether to leave now or once the food arrived.
Her stomach growled, deciding for her. Red didn't like being on the receiving
end of questions, even when they were couched in politeness.

Morgan brushed at invisible crumbs with the back of
his hand. "Just making small talk."

"Sure, whatever you say." She sat back.

"How about we start this
conversation over?" Mor
gan
suggested.

"Why, when it's going so well?"

He chuckled. "Have it your way. I believe you
were about to tell me how long you've been on the team."

"You've read my file. How long did it say?"
she volleyed back.

"Files rarely tell the whole story. I'd rather
hear it from you, if it's all the same."

Red snorted. "Wow, that's a new one."

"What is?"

"Someone actually taking the time to ask me about
my job."

Morgan frowned. "Why is that surprising?"

She shrugged. "I just didn't expect it."

"There still aren't many women on the team, are
there?" he asked.

"It is what it is. I'm used to it by now."
Red reached for her canteen. He was too perceptive for his own good.

Morgan quirked a brow. "If you say so."