Devil s Due Page 0,34

will not track her down for you. Do you understand me?"

"I got into a fight at work. Look, it didn't have anything to do with Susannah, I'd never do anything to hurt her."

She could feel something weighing her down now, a conviction that was drawn from a thousand hints. The way his eyes cut away at the last second. The bruises. The too-direct stare during a denial. Tiny facial tics as he tried to fake sincerity.

She cut him off. "Our rates are a thousand dollars a day."

Davis sat back, mouth open, and then did that lightning-quick shift of his eyes again. "I see. So it's all about the money, right?"

"We work for a living, yes."

"If I give you the money, you'll find Susannah?"

Not, she noticed, save her. Not find out what happened to her. Just, simply, find.

She smiled thinly and stood up, settling her purse over her shoulder. "Not for any amount, Mr. Davis," she said. "Because I don't believe you. Either you've killed your wife or you'd badly like to finish what you started. Either way, we're not interested in helping you."

She expected him to grab, because - if she was right - that would be his automatic response. And he did. His hand shot out and closed on her arm. Squeezed - not with crushing force, because he was aware of Omar, who was straightening up behind her, and the security guards behind the desk. But with enough strength to send a hot jolt of agony up through her shoulder.

She didn't let it affect her cool, professional mask. "You'll want to take your hand off of me now, Mr. Davis," she said. "Before something unfortunate happens."

"I said I need your help!" He didn't sound helpless; he sounded angry. She understood that anger could be a correct response, especially when a loved one was missing. But his anger was off-key. Narcissistic.

"Yes," she agreed, and pulled her arm free. "You did. Now I'd advise you to go look for an attorney."

Seen up close, those eyes were probably his greatest asset. The kind of little-boy eyes that lulled women into trusting, into believing his apologies, into letting down their guard.

His eyes lied better than the rest of him.

He stepped back. "You've got the wrong idea about me."

"Maybe so. And if that's the case, then I will be sincerely sorry. But I can't take the chance."

She nodded to Omar, and walked away to the security desk. The two guards looked attentive.

"Escort him out," she said. "He doesn't come back inside."

"Yes, ma'am."

In the elevator, Omar didn't say a word, but he was watching her with interest. She felt tired. Achy. Wanted to collapse back into her warm, soft bed and sleep for days.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged as he pushed the button for the parking garage. "Kinda hard on the guy."

"He's had numerous abuse complaints."

"Doesn't mean she's not missing."

"It might mean that she's missing on purpose, and the last thing she needs is us bringing this guy to her doorstep."

"Sometimes I think you don't like people very much," he said.

"People, meaning men?"

Another shrug.

"I like men just fine," she said. "I just like them better when they're not lying their asses off to me."

Omar's dimples flashed as he smiled. "You don't get a lot of dates, huh?"

"Not second ones."

The door creaked open at the well-lit parking level, and Omar went out first, presenting an unmissable target should anyone be taking aim. He didn't even think about doing it. It was his job. She admired that, even while she couldn't quite understand the mentality behind it.

"Clear," he said, after scanning the area. She stepped out from behind him, and they walked quickly toward the SUV.

She had no warning, but suddenly she felt a powerful shove to the left, felt the world tilt, and landed hard on her side. She rolled instinctively, holding her head up to keep from hitting the concrete floor, and landed next to a fat gray pillar. She hadn't thought about drawing her gun, but it was out, both hands bracing it in textbook firing position.

"Easy," Omar was saying. He was still standing out in the open, having executed his first priority - moving her out of the line of fire. He was holding up both empty hands and trying to look as inoffensive as possible, which was odd behavior for any bodyguard, but Omar in particular. Lucia edged forward and peered around the barrier, hunting a target.

A woman was standing in front of him. Thin, fragile, with short dark hair and