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Chapter Twenty-seven
Tuesday, October 11, 1:00 A.M.
Je
She considered calling the twenty-four-hour emergency veterinary clinic that still had Jim and Jean-Luc, but figured their conditions hadn't changed in the last hour. Jim was improving but Jean-Luc still clung to life. Even though Kent's friend Wendy had done a superb job, Jean-Luc's stab wounds were deep and vicious. Knowing he'd taken them for her still made her ill.
"Both dogs were poisoned with strychnine," Wendy had told her and Steven earlier this evening when she and Kent had dropped by to give them an update. "Probably introduced to their system through the steak I found when I pumped their stomachs."
"So my intruder was very well prepared indeed," Je
"Except," Wendy had returned, "neither dog had enough poison in his system to kill him outright, so he wasn't prepared all that well." Then she'd said Je
And Je
So she pulled on her robe and set out for a snack, wishing she'd had the presence of mind to stop for Rocky Road on her way home, when a noise from Nicky's room caught her attention. Peeking in, she discovered him sitting in his sleeping bag on the floor, reading a comic book.
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" she whispered.
"Aren't you?" he whispered back.
Touche, little man, Je
He shrugged and put the book aside. "Okay."
She settled herself cross-legged on the floor next to his sleeping bag. "Is the book any good?"
"It's okay."
She wondered how many nights he sat and read when he should have been sleeping. "I can't sleep," she confided in a low voice. "Any ideas on how I can fall asleep?"
"Aunt Helen says warm milk."
Je
"It is. Matt says he counts ewes."
Je
"No, ewes. Brad said he counted sheep, Matt said he counted ewes. They're girl sheep."
Je
"It meant something about sex because Brad smacked Matt upside the head when he said it."
Je
Nicky narrowed his eyes. "You know. Sex. You've got to know about sex."
Je
"Well, I am seven," he said.
"Okay." Wildly Je
" 'Bout every night."
She set down the book in surprise. "Every night? Why, Nicky?"
He looked at her severely. "Because I can't sleep either. Not since the incident." Then his expression softened. "I heard Daddy and Aunt Helen talking about your incident. Don't worry," he said, patting her hand. "You'll get used to it."
Je
"Then I'd try counting ewes," he said wisely.
Or perhaps sex, Je
He looked interested. "Soccer?"
Je
"Which story?"
"We'd make it up. You want to give it a try?"
He shrugged. "Sure, why not."
Je
He perked up at that. "Really? Everybody always says Matt's fu
"Well you are. Why don't we make up a fu
Walla, Washington." She leaned close to him. "That's a real place you know."
Nicky shook his head. "No, it's not."
"Is." She looked at him, suddenly inspired. "How much do you want to bet?"
"I can't bet. I don't have any money."
"Who said anything about money? Tomorrow, we'll look it up on-line. If I'm right-and I will be-you lie down in your bed tomorrow night. If I'm wrong, I'll sleep on the floor with you."
He considered it. "It's fair," he decided. "So the man had a llama. That's got two l's, y'know."
"I know. One day his llama got sick and had to go to the doctor."
"And the doctor said he'd swallowed an alarm clock," Nicky said, snuggling into his pillow.
"Which made an awful racket every day at noon. The llama wasn't welcome anywhere…"
Ten minutes later Nicky had reduced the llama to selling kisses at the circus. And he was sound asleep. Rousing herself she left Nicky's room only to run into Steven's hard chest.
She swallowed. His hard, naked, hairy, naked, golden chest. "He's asleep," she whispered.
"So I see." His eyes twinkled and crinkled at the corners and she wanted to grab him and wrestle him to the carpet and have her way with him. "Kissing llamas, huh?"
She shrugged. "He's your kid." Then she frowned. "Your son knows about sex."
Steven gri
She propped her fists on her hips. "Just how long were you standing there?"
"From the minute I heard you leave your room. I haven't slept a wink all night knowing you were in there asleep and not being able to touch you." He leaned closer until his forehead rested against hers. "I've heard of sex, too."
She had to bite her lips to keep from smiling. "Well, you are-how old are you, anyway?"
"Thirty-six." He tugged on her hand. "Old enough to know about sex, and how to do it, too."
Je
"Oh, I do. And I made a stop on my way home." He thumbed over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the sight of the three big boxes of condoms on his bed. "Think it will be enough?"
"Well, we'll just have to see, Special Agent Thatcher."
He kissed her gently. "And feel. And taste."
"Umm. Maybe you do know about this sex thing after all."
Tuesday, October 11, 8:00 A.M.
"We got a response." Steven tossed copies of his latest note from the killer on the conference-room table. "Special delivery to Special Agent in Charge Steven Thatcher."
Liz picked up a copy and studied it. "He promoted you."
"Yeah, don't tell Le