Killjoy

She'd hit the mark dead center. "No, I didn't. Dictators are like weeds. You rip one out of the ground and two more pop up overnight."

He opened his eyes again and watched her as he recounted one of his bloodier assignments. When he was finished, he noticed

she hadn't pulled her hand away. She was still stroking his chest. Her touch was soothing.

"So now you're a carpenter," she said.

"Yes."

"Are you any good?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm still using my hands, but now I build things that will last. I don't break necks. It's odd."

"What is?"

"The urge to kill. I never had that before. I do now."

Her eyes widened. He'd made the confession so casually. "Oh? Who do you want to kill?"

"Skarrett."

She shivered in reaction. "No," she said. "I don't want him to die."

"You've got to be kidding."

"I'm serious. I want him to live the rest of his life behind bars."

"Yeah, well, if I get the opportunity…"

"No," she said firmly.

"Okay," he said when he realized she was getting upset.

"I mean it."

"I said okay," he said.

"I won't mind if you kill Monk," she said then. "But I hope someone brings him in alive. Can you imagine the things he could

tell them?"

He shook his head. "He won't talk. He's not the kind of man who likes to boast. Maybe, if the interrogators work him, treat him like a professional, he might give them a little insight, but I honestly don't see that happening." He shrugged and added, "I think

they ought to squash him like a bug."

"And Jilly?"

"You call it."

"She needs to be locked up in an institution for the criminally insane, and she needs to stay there for the rest of her life."

"You don't want her dead?"

"No, I don't," she said. "I don't think she can help being the way she is. I just want to make sure she can't hurt anyone anymore."

He brushed his thumb across her lips. "You've got a gentle heart," he said.

"So do you."

"The hell I do," he grumbled. "But I've got great hands," he added as he reached for her.

She slapped his hand away. "I already know you're good with your hands," she said.

She got an impish gleam in her eyes as she rolled on top of him. He locked his legs around her to keep her from making a

eunuch out of him.

"Now I'm going to show you how good I am," she cooed.

It wasn't an idle boast. Avery had a vivid imagination, and what she did to him with her hands and her mouth was magical, and probably illegal in some states, but of course he wasn't about to mention that to her.

That night they slept entwined in each other's arms even though both of them knew that the interlude would be over in the morning. They couldn't push reality away any longer.

Avery awakened before John Paul did and quickly showered and dressed in the bathroom so she wouldn't disturb him. Then

she went into the living room, softly closing the bedroom door behind her, and checked the time. There was a digital dock on the wall above the table. She hoped it was accurate. Five forty-five Colorado time, which meant it was seven forty-five in Virginia.

She thought she heard the shower ru

She dialed information, got the number she needed, then hung up and waited, her gaze locked on the time.

At exactly seven-fifty, Avery dialed. The phone was answered on the third ring.

Avery made up a name, told the employee it was an emergency and that he needed to put Margo on the phone. She described

her friend and added, "She comes in every morning at seven-fifty."

"Yeah, the short lady, right?"

"Yes."

"She just left."

"Go after her," Avery shouted. "Hurry. Get her back. Go."

The phone clattered against the wall when the employee dropped it. She heard him shouting Margo's name, and then a minute later, she could hear Margo arguing.

"No one knows I'm here. What do you mean it's an emergency? Hello," she said.

"Margo, it's me, Avery."

"Oh, my God, Avery. How did you know I would be here… how did you…" She was rattled.

"You always pick up doughnuts on your way into the office."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"I haven't done anything wrong," Avery countered.

"Why did you leave that police station in Colorado? The agents are there to protect you."

"I have protection."

"Renard?"

"Yes," she answered impatiently. "Tell me what you know."

The bedroom door opened, and John Paul stopped in the doorway, staring at her incredulously. She put her hand up when he started toward her.

"Hold on, Margo." Cupping the receiver with her hand, she said to John Paul, "Trust me." Then she raised the phone to her

ear again. "Okay, Margo. Start talking."

"The trial begins July tenth," she said. "But Avery, the parole hearing is still on too. Skarrett might pull it off this time. He could

get out."

"Over my dead body."

"Jeez, don't talk like that."

"Is the hearing still scheduled for the sixteenth?"

"I think so."

"Are you sure or not?"

"I'm sure," she said. "Don't get all hostile on me, Avery. They know about Jilly. Your aunt told them. That had to have been a

hell of a shock. I'm so sorry-"

Avery interrupted. She didn't want sympathy. "Do they have any idea where Jilly and Monk might be?"

"Not a clue."

"What about my aunt? Have they moved her from the hospital yet?"

"No, not yet. Don't worry about her. A gnat couldn't get into that hospital. Security's unbelievable."

"I'm not worried," she said. "Monk can't be in two places at once."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm going to keep him busy. He's going to have to try and stop me from testifying at Skarrett's trial."

"What does he care about Skarrett?"

"He doesn't," she said. "But he's working for Jilly now, and she wants Skarrett out of prison. I'll bet, if you check the records

at the prison for visitors over the past year, you'll find that Skarrett had a female visitor listed more than once. I think she's

made some kind of deal with him."

"For the millions in uncut stones that he stole," Margo said.

"I'm sure Skarrett thinks they'll share the loot and that he'll live happily ever after with Jilly. But when they have what they

want, Jilly will let Monk kill him."

"Avery, you're in over your head."

"Maybe," she whispered. "I can't stop now, though. About the trial…"

"Yes?"

"Find out who the prosecutor is, and make sure I'm on his witness list."

"Okay," she said. "Can I tell Carter I talked to you?"

You're going to tell him anyway, she thought. Margo was her friend, but Avery knew she would believe she was being helpful

by filling Carter in.

"Yes, please do."

"Where are you now? He's going to ask."

"Alabama," she lied. "I've got to go now. Tell Carter I'll call him."

"Wait," Margo cried. "What are you going to do?"

Avery knew what she wanted to do. She just didn't know how yet. The conversation with Jilly popped into her head. What had she called her? Oh, yes, how could she forget?

"I'm going to be a killjoy."

John Paul trusted her. Otherwise he would have ripped the phone out of her hand and hung it up. He'd sat down on the sofa beside her and impatiently waited for her to finish her conversation. He looked relieved when she told him she'd caught Margo

at the doughnut shop.

"Clever," he said with approval.

"She's a creature of habit."

She told him what Margo had said. "I promised I'd call Carter," she added, "when we get to Florida."

"But not before."

"You better think hard before you agree to go with me, John Paul. It could get…"