Killjoy

Chapter 22

Something was growling, and it definitely wasn't human. Avery scooted closer to John Paul. Promising her she could have

twenty minutes to rest, he had found shelter for them under a jutting rock. The ground was dry, and the area was wide and

deep enough for him to stretch his legs.

Avery had lobbied for finding a cave. John Paul had vetoed that idea because he didn't want any unexpected company, like mountain lions or bears, sharing the space.

She suggested a fire, but he vetoed that idea too. The smoke could be seen from miles away.

She heard the growl again. It seemed closer. She nudged John Paul and whispered, "Do you hear that?"

"Uh-huh."

He sounded half asleep. He was sitting up with his back against the rock, his long muscular legs stretched in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. He put his arm around her and told her to relax.

Her head was down on his shoulder, and every now and then his chin would rub against the top of her head. She couldn't decide

if he was being affectionate or if the day's growth of whiskers made his skin itch.

Another rustling noise came from below them. She tensed in reaction. Then she thought she heard something growl again.

What in heaven's name was it? A bear? A mountain lion? What?

John Paul had his gun on the ground next to him, and his hand rested on the handle.

She took a deep breath and tried not to think about how uncomfortable she was. Think positive, she told herself. Keep that cup full. Be an optimist.

Oh, God, we're gonna die out here. She sighed then. So much for being an optimist. He must have felt her shivering because

he began to rub her arm. She thought that was sweet. She really did try to relax, but anxiety was keeping her mind revved up.

Could a body be too exhausted to rest? When she'd sat down, she had been close to collapsing, and she knew she had to rest

if she wanted to be able to run again.

What would the woman do about Carrie and the others now? Was John Paul right? Were they already dead?

She forced the thought aside and once again tried to get comfortable. Every muscle in her body ached, and her toes throbbed.

She tried to take her boots off, but John Paul stopped her. Her feet needed to acclimate to the wet boots, and all she had to do was walk off the cramps. He acted like an authority, and since she knew he'd had survival training while in the Marines, she acquiesced. Besides, she'd been too weary to argue.

Avery was determined that, no matter what, she wouldn't turn into a cynic like her aunt and John Paul. When the rain had

begun and John Paul had teased her because she'd boasted that they were due for a break, she pointed out that the rain was a lovely, soft drizzle that brought with it a hazy fog, which, she insisted, was enchanting. Yep, that's what she'd said. She'd smiled too. Then the drizzle turned to a deluge. And still she tried to maintain her positive attitude. What more could happen? she reasoned. They were already wet.

And that's when the deluge turned into hail the size of golf balls, pelting their bodies as they ran into the protection of the trees.

More rustling noises pulled her back to the present. Had he heard the sound? She lifted her head from his shoulder and strained

to hear. Fingers of gray light curled down through the branches as the rain continued.

His eyes were closed, but as she stared at him, they slowly opened. His gaze locked on hers. She was so" thankful that he was there with her. She felt safe with him. She wasn't having to go through this nightmare alone, and his strength comforted her and gave her hope.

"I want…" She couldn't get the rest of the words out, couldn't tell him how much she appreciated his help. She couldn't stop

looking at his mouth.

"Yeah, I do too."

Later, she wasn't so certain who initiated the kiss. She knew she'd leaned into him, and then his head had tilted down toward

hers. Or had she pulled him close and had he merely accommodated her? She couldn't remember. Their mouths had just… merged.

And, oh, it felt wonderful. His mouth was so warm against hers, and, Lord, did he know how to get rid of a woman's defenses.

He made her want much, much more. He was gentle and giving, yet rough and demanding at the same time. His hand cupped

her chin, and he pressed it gently to let her know he wanted her to open her mouth for him.

She scooted up on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he began to caress her, she let go of her inhibitions,

and her bones felt like Jell-O. She got quivers in her stomach. His tongue was driving her wild, making her want to be bolder.

The warmth of his touch radiated through her body. When he ended the kiss, she realized his hands were under her T-shirt. She knew he was as affected by the kiss as she was, for she could feel his heart beating rapidly under her fingertips.

She tried to get off his lap then, to retreat, but he wouldn't let her. He held her tightly against him, then gently pushed her head down on his shoulder.

"You know what would be real nice now?" he whispered in that gruff, sexy tone of voice.

She was still trying to catch her breath. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and she was replaying every second of that

powerful kiss in her mind.

The question suddenly penetrated. "For Pete's sake, John Paul."

"What?" he said.

"You want sex."

He didn't say a word for a long minute, acting as though he was taking his time to think it over. "Well, yeah. That would be nice too, I guess. Sugar, if you're offering, I'm not gonna turn you down." She wasn't looking at him, so he knew it was safe to smile. "But what I really want is a cheeseburger."

Her head snapped up. He got his chin out of her way in the nick of time. "What?"

"I was thinking a cheeseburger would be nice about now. And french fries and a cold beer," he added.

"The shrubs weren't enough for you?"

He laughed. "They weren't shrubs. Those were edible leaves and berries I made you eat. They'll give us energy," he added.

"But I still want a cheeseburger. My brother-in-law got me hooked on junk food."

"You were really thinking about food?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I was, but if you're desperate to have sex, I guess I could accommodate you."

"I do not want to have sex."

"You said you did."

He was exasperating. "No, I didn't."

"And you kissed me," he pointed out. "So I just assumed…"

"Oh, for Pete's sake."

"It's obvious you can't keep your hands off me, sugar."

No wonder love and hate were so closely linked. Right now, she wanted to strangle him. He enjoyed making her squirm,

seemed to be getting a real kick out of it.

She really wanted to have the last word. "It was just a meaningless kiss."

"Then how come you got all hot and bothered?"

"I did not."

"Liar."

Only he could make the insult sound like a caress. "Did you get all hot and bothered?"

"Hell, no."

She laughed. "Now who's lying?"

"The first rule in any operation is to tell as few lies as possible. Now try to rest. Ten more minutes and we're moving."

She couldn't rest, not until she relaxed, and there was only one way to do that. She moved away from John Paul, assumed the lotus position she'd learned from her yoga instructor, put her hands on her knees, palms up, straightened her back, and closed her eyes. She concentrated on her breathing, deep cleansing breaths, forcing herself to block the noises of the forest and the thoughts rushing through her mind. It took a good five minutes before she could feel her muscles easing.

"What are you doing?"

His question pulled her back. "I'm doing my relaxation exercise."

"Yoga?"

"Sort of. I clear my mind, then I go…"

"What?"

She sighed. Home, she thought, I go to my imaginary perfect home. She answered, "I go to my happy place. Okay?"

He didn't laugh. "Yeah? So you were serious about that? I thought you were joking."

"I picture a place that makes me feel good. It's a porch," she said. "And I see myself sitting on this swing. I can smell lilacs, and I can hear water in the background. It's… soothing, and it frees my mind. Then I start filtering through the data I've collected."

"Whatever works," he drawled.

He didn't understand, but then she didn't expect him to. She closed her eyes again, ignoring him now, and once again

concentrated on her breathing.

Another couple of minutes passed, and she began to let the bits and pieces of the puzzle come together. Ironically, it was something that John Paul had said that got her mind racing.

"What did you mean?" she asked.

"About what?"

She stretched her legs and then turned to him. "The first rule of an operation is not to lie?"

"No, I said tell as few lies as possible."

"Yes, that's what I meant. Why is that a rule?"

"Lies can come back to bite you… trip you up. So…"

She took it from there. "So, if you stick to the truth on all the little things that don't matter, you won't get tripped up. Oh, my God,

of course."

She was suddenly as excited as a kid in a toy store. She unzipped her jacket pocket and pulled out a soggy map.

"I'm such an idiot. Monk could have read about the property in the paper, and when Carrie asked him where he was taking her,

he came up with that name. I assumed he was lying. Why wouldn't I assume that? He'd lied about everything else, but John Paul, what if he was telling her the truth?"

Her babbling worried him. "Are you getting punchy?"

She smiled. "Yes," she said. "But it still all makes sense anyway."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I think I know where Carrie and those other women are."

Her announcement gained his full attention. "You think you know? How?"

"Carrie told me where Monk was taking her."

One eyelid dropped. "And you're only now mentioning that fact?"

"Hear me out," she said. "I thought he'd lied to her. I told you my aunt left me a message on my machine, and I erased it, and

you heard my question to Cannon, didn't you?"

"I heard you ask him if there was a water problem."

"And Cannon said, no, not at Utopia. I also asked him if the spa owned a house in the mountains."

John Paul nodded. "I remember his answer was no."

"Because he said no, I didn't ask any other questions about the house. Carrie called it a retreat. I assumed that everything Monk told her was a lie. But what if it wasn't?"

"Why would you think he was telling the truth about their destination?"

"It's what you said. Why lie when you don't have to? Lies have a way of coming back to bite you." She repeated his very words. "Monk already had grabbed her, right? And he'd already told her his name. She was meekly going along, probably without a care in the world. But she called me on her cell phone from the ladies' room. And I doubt she would have told Monk she'd made the call. There wouldn't have been any reason."

"If Monk had told her where he was really taking her, he wouldn't have let her out of his sight."

"He couldn't go with her into the ladies' room," she pointed out. "And he might not have known she had one of her cell phones

with her."

"One of her cell phones?"

Avery nodded. "She carries two at all times. Carrie's a workaholic, and it makes her crazy if the battery runs down. Besides,

she uses one for personal and the other for business."

"She could just carry an extra battery."

"Oh, she does," she said. "So what do you think?"

"The truth? I think you're reaching."

"No, I'm analyzing the data, and I think we have at least a fifty percent chance I'm right. We have to check it out."

"You know where this house is?"

While he opened the map, she told him about the old gentleman who sat with her in McDonald's.

"Yeah, I see the circle he made."

Avery then told him about the couple who were fighting over ownership. "The judge is supposed to decide soon which one of

the thoroughly unpleasant couple gets the house. He also told me the place has been vacant for weeks."

John Paul slowly nodded. "Okay, it's worth a look. Break's over. Time to move."

"We've got to get to a phone. That's the first order of business."

"No," he whispered. "The first order of business is staying alive so we can get to a phone."

And that, he knew, was easier said than done.