Verifiable Intelligence (11 page)

The art of blending in wasn’t necessarily included in basic training, but army life was a different story. It had given her a chance to see how people worked. Though most of her “friends” had grown up in unique situations completely unlike her own, most of them shared the desire to become successful at something. Pursuing a career made plenty of sense. It was the ones who never seemed to care about job performance that had seemed so confusing.

Dayne had mistaken it for a lack of ambition in the beginning. Later on she had come to realize they
had
objectives. They wanted husbands or wives, homes, and families and with true focus, they’d set out to accomplish just that. Of course, it was never something she would ever try to mimic. There was no getting around the fact that Dayne Castille hadn’t a domestic bone in her body.

Diapers, spit up, runny noses, PTA, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, soccer practice, flu season and chicken pox were things that she had no interest in. She knew this stuff seemed to fascinate others, but she never got it. And she never understood why people who shared those things in common with each other couldn’t seem to talk, think, or focus on anything else.

Standing on the curb outside Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts on a chilly autumn afternoon waiting for a rental car shuttle to trundle by and listening to Ryan prattle on and on about whatever it was that caught his incredibly short attention span, Dayne finally started to get it. Not because she suddenly felt mushy and maternal on the inside, but because she suddenly couldn’t remember what it was like to have ears that didn’t ring with idle questions. Or to have the ability to walk from point A to point B without stopping at every bathroom and store on the way. Or how easy it was to travel when all you had to worry about was you and your stuff.

“I see it!” Ryan shouted, jumping up and down, madly pointing at a green and white shuttle bus. “You said National, right? It’s there, right there!”

Jace reached out and snagged the back of Ryan’s shirt to keep him from launching directly into traffic. “Calm down before you kill yourself.”

“You should have pushed him,” Dayne muttered.

Ryan swung around. “What?”

She offered a sweet smile. She wasn’t about to repeat what she’d said. It would hurt his feelings, and that’d be worth at least another five hours of whining.

The bus rocketed around a curve and screeched to a stop inches away from their toes. A uniformed driver hustled onto the curb and started grabbing people’s bags and tossing them inside, as the waiting passengers jostled each other for space.

Used to being a small person tossed about in crowds, Dayne prepared herself to squeeze into whatever opening popped up. Before she could move, Jace wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her close to him. Head and shoulders taller than most other people, he used his bulk to blast a way through the crowd. Once inside, he pushed Ryan into the last empty seat.

“How’s your balance, Dayne?”

Jace's low voice reached her ears through the chattering din of the surrounding travelers. A thrill slipped down her spine. His gaze held hers, hazel eyes easing from green to brown flecked with gold in the overhead light.

It took her a second to realize that they’d begun to move. And though her balance was just fine, she was pressed against him anyway. A niggling voice in her head told her to step away, to maintain her personal space. Another voice argued that the shuttle was crowded and the air conditioning was turned up so high that she expected to see ice crystals on the windows.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

He leaned down, his breath whispering across the sensitive skin of her ear. “Some parts of me are warmer than others.”

When she would’ve leapt back in surprise, she found his arm locked like a vise around the small of her back. Dayne inhaled sharply and then wished she hadn’t. She’d gotten a noseful of Jace. Even after a day of exhausting travel he smelled divine. It sent her good sense reeling and left her body in a heated rush.

“You should let me go.”

He lifted a brow. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“We have to stay professional. You know, focused.”

“Does that mean you’re having trouble concentrating?”

“Are you suggesting I can’t keep my mind on my work?” she demanded, outraged.

“Are you working right now?”

She should’ve replied that she was always working, but she got distracted. The hem of her fitted green cotton T-shirt had inched its way north at some point. Now the hand attached to the arm locked around her waist was resting on the bare skin of her midsection. The friction of Jace's calloused palm against her sensitive flesh sent a zing whizzing throughout her nervous system.

He tightened his grip, his fingers pressing against her hipbone. “I was only going to mention that there are other things in life worth concentrating on.”

A flush crept up her neck, making her ears burn. She was also aware of at least three other people who were now watching their conversation with less than polite interest. It felt like her cheeks had gone up in flames.

“You know,” his mouth was right beside her ear, lips barely touching the surface of her skin. “You should really try to relax. You seem tense.”

It was fortunate that the shuttle lurched to a halt and the doors opened. It gave her an opportunity to focus on something other than her indignation. The smug look on his face alone made her want to deck him, to say nothing of the outrageous ideas he was trying to suggest. As if they’d come to Boston to sightsee!

There was really no time for romance in their itinerary, especially when it involved melting an ice queen. Unfortunately, Jace was having difficulty keeping that in mind when Dayne was anywhere near. She couldn’t seem to get a grip on her own reactions either, and damned if that didn’t make him feel good.

He could hear Ryan behind him, rifling through the area pamphlets and rapidly firing questions at Dayne. Striding up to the rental desk, he offered the stone-faced agent his warmest smile, despite her lukewarm greeting. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with bleached blonde hair and dark eyes.

“How many days will you be staying in Boston, sir?”

“Can I just get it for the week? I’m not sure what our schedule is yet.” Jace offered a conspiratorial smile. “You know how it is with family vacations.”

Stone Face nodded, and he could see a flicker of mirth in her eyes as she pounded away on her keyboard. “I see you have a preferred status, Mr. Stafford.”

He nodded; he had a preferred status attached to all of his identities. It made rentals a helluva lot easier. Jace loved rental cars. You used them, and then the company sent them five thousand miles away from the scene of the crime
for
you. And most rental companies were horrible at keeping records. It made his life so much more convenient. If an investigator ever did catch up with a car, it had already been used by three to five more families full of people who trashed the inside and made trace evidence too convoluted to be of any use.

Stone Face finally cracked a smile. “Your son looks just like you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m single,” she admitted, purposefully catching his eye. “But I can remember going places with my parents when I was a kid. It was always a hassle.”

“Things haven’t changed much.”

“I hope you get a chance to relax here in Boston, Mr. Stafford.” Stone Face hesitated. “Your wife looks kind of stressed out.”

Jace was a master at reading people. Their tones, facial expressions, and posture could give more information than their words. Right then, Stone Face was sending him a clear signal, of the unmistakable feminine variety.

She stood on tiptoe and passed a tourism map across the counter. “I’d be really happy to help you out, Mr. Stafford, with directions and things.” She fluttered her dark eyes, her voice sliding suggestively over the words. “I put my personal numbers on this map, just in case.”

Dayne’s voice came from a point just beside his right shoulder. “Wow. That was exceptionally
helpful
of you.”

Stone Face snapped to attention. “What kind of vehicle would you prefer?”

It was all he could do not to burst into a full-out belly laugh. Dayne’s gray eyes were shooting sparks, her stubborn chin aggressively thrust forward. He’d wondered how long it would take her to appear at the counter. She had remarkable hearing and enough pride to take this woman’s flirting personally.

“Something small,” Dayne said. “Parking is such a bitch.”

“I have some Chevy Blazers…”

“No SUV’s.”

Jace frowned. “There’s more room in an SUV.”

“I want a car, a sports car if you’ve got it.”

“It needs a backseat,” he reminded her.

“He’s young. He can climb in. It’s not like his legs are ten feet long, and we don’t have that much stuff anyway.”

“Would a Pontiac GTO be all right?”

Dayne sniffed. “If that’s the best you can do, it’ll be fine.”

Without another word to Stone Face, Dayne turned and stalked off toward Ryan. The kid was now trying to climb on top of the pamphlet display to get a closer look at a map hanging on the wall.

Jace accepted the keys from the agent with a soft smile. “Thanks so much for your help.” He slid the map back across the counter. “But I’ve been to the city before. I know my way around pretty well.”

There was no talking on the way across the parking lot. Dayne walked so fast that Ryan had to trot to keep up. Hostility rolled off her in waves. Her back was painfully straight, shoulders pulled up, chin lifted and jaw clenched tight.

Jace popped the trunk, hoisting first his and then Ryan’s bags inside. When he reached for Dayne’s, she pushed him aside.

“I can do it myself, thanks. I’m not some helpless female.”

Knowing it would be useless to argue, Jace left her to handle her own luggage. He opened the driver’s door of the white Pontiac, and Ryan scrambled into the backseat of the low-slung car. Heaving a resigned sigh, Jace climbed in after him.

“Dayne’s mad,” Ryan commented quietly once he’d settled himself in the bucket seat.

Jace started to comment but changed his mind when Dayne flung open the passenger door and plopped inside before slamming the door.

“Seatbelt,” he growled, starting the car.

The nylon sang as she yanked it across her chest and clicked it shut. “Careful, I might think you give a shit!”

“C’mon Dayne, don’t act like this.”

She turned. “Ryan, find your earphones and put them on.”

“Hey now, there’s no need to yell at him. He didn’t do anything,” Jace protested.

There was a distinct snort from the backseat. “She’s not mad at
me
, Jace.
You’re
the one who pissed her off.”

Jace swung around to remind Ryan of his manners, but the ten-year-old was already immersed in his PSP.

“By the way, who the hell said you could drive?”

He shoved the gearshift into drive. “I did. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think that woman back there made you jealous.”

“Jealous?” she sniffed. “Why would I be jealous? You get yours, I get mine. Isn’t that the way the world works? Although I
was
kind of surprised. I’d heard you get around, but I had no idea you worked that fast! What did you get, like three phone numbers in five minutes? That must be some kind of record!”

He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to reach over and strangle her. “I didn’t keep the numbers.”

“That’s not the point, is it? It’s showing how incredibly virile you are, and how much women want you. So getting the numbers is the important part. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

“You heard wrong.”

She grumbled something inaudible beneath her breath.

He leaned closer. “What was that?”

“I wondered if you were going to move or sit here waiting forever. This is Boston, remember? They aren’t going to stop and
let
you into traffic. You have to
make
them!”

Momentarily distracted by their argument, he realized he’d been sitting at the exit, waiting to turn. Knowing she was right but refusing to admit it out loud he pushed the nose of the white GTO into the flow of traffic, forcing the harried commuters to let him in.

Studiously ignoring her, Jace concentrated on his driving. In a place where the drivers had been dubbed ‘Massholes,’ it paid to keep your eyes on the road and stay aggressive.

Chapter Fourteen

The mattress sagged briefly and then flexed, sending Ryan flying into the air. The ten-year-old whooped and flung himself back, bouncing again and again in some strange rhythm known only to people under the age of twelve.

Jace wasn’t sure what was more amusing, watching Ryan bounce, or watching Dayne watch Ryan bounce. It was another one of those odd moments that made him wonder. What kind of childhood had Dayne had? One second she was indulgent and the next she couldn’t even scrounge up an ounce of empathy.

Watching her cross her arms and set her face in an expression of distinct disapproval, he realized that he found it difficult to picture her as a child. Obviously she’d been young once. But he half wondered if she hadn’t been exactly the same, just shorter.

“Did we come here for a purpose or not?” Dayne asked irritably.

“Sure, it’s much nicer to pay someone else to clean up the bed when he’s done jumping all over it,” Jace deadpanned.

Heaving a gigantic sigh, she turned her back on the both of them and stalked back out into the sitting room of their large two-bedroom suite.

Jace tossed the remote control to Ryan. “Just sit for a minute, okay? Watch some TV or something.”

Ryan muttered something inaudible. Jace suspected he’d just been called a Meaner, whatever that was.

When he entered the other room Dayne was scribbling something on a legal pad, pausing briefly to gnaw the end of her pen between sentences. Half her hair had escaped her ponytail. She’d shoved it haphazardly behind her ears, the ends curling wildly about her neck. Jace felt the oddest urge to go and untangle the loose strands, to run his fingers through them and savor their silky texture as he had while she’d slept so peacefully in the garage.