Deadly Little Secrets Page 0,107

said slowly, reluctance plain in every word he spoke. “I’m going to tell you that Hines is a top marksman. Sniper, if you get me. You watch out, you hear me?”

“Got it,” she said, feeling the curl of fear in her belly. A sniper. A perfectly placed shot at the Agency garage. A shot in the dark at her apartment. A shot in the dark at the Opera? That one still didn’t make sense, not in terms of the case. Why would Hines target Gates? She’d figure it out later; for now she needed to get off the phone, get busy. “Thanks, McGuire.”

“Call me if there’s a change, will ya? I’m staying locked and loaded until I hear from you.” He paused a minute, and he said, “Thank God I sent my grandkids away for a week or so.”

“Yeah, I’m glad of that.” Ana’s imagination was too vivid to contemplate what might have happened if the thugs aiming for McGuire had found his grandchildren instead. “I’ll call. The minute I hear anything,” she reassured him, and they hung up.

Ana set her phone down, so that she could use both hands to rub away the goose bumps that rose on her arms. She left the phone and the bed, intending to get water from the mini-bar. She’d taken two steps away from the bed when her phone rang.

Expecting Pretzky, or TJ, she checked the number.

It was Gates.

Chapter Seventeen

“Hey.” Gates’s voice was still raspy, not quite back to the liquid velvet she’d grown to love.

“Hey.” She forced her voice to be clipped, flat. She wasn’t giving anything away. It hurt too much. “I was just going to call you.”

“Really?” he said, softly. “How can I help you?”

She bit her lip, wishing she could hate him. Wishing that she didn’t still want him. “The search we developed turned up some things.”

“What?” He was alert now, all business. “What did you get?”

“A shipper in White Plains, New York. Moroni used them, so did the Miami gallery, to ship to Pratch in Berlin.” She’d recognized the international number as Berlin, made the connection. “I’m flying in there in the morning.”

“Fly into LaGuardia. We’ll meet up.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Ana said, her heart clenching at the thought of seeing him again.

“Ana.” He just said her name, nothing more.

“No, Gates,” she said, working hard to keep her voice even. “You shut me out, shut me down. That’s somehow going to be okay now? Now that I’ve got a lead?”

“No, no, I understand,” he said, his husky voice soft. “It’s just that I found something too.” He was silent for a long minute.

“Gates?” Her heart clenched. He didn’t sound like himself. He’d sounded sharp for a minute there, but now he sounded tired, almost sleepy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, still talking softly. “I’m here. It’s another connection.”

“What?” she demanded. “You want me to give? You give.”

“Yeah, okay,” he chuckled, and she heard him yawn. “It’s probably not much, but did I tell you I found your hacker, the deep-search one?” he said, taking her back a step. She’d forgotten all about the search, forgotten to follow up on her tracking of it. Everything else had taken precedence.

“Who? Where?”

“Fly to LaGuardia. We’ll pick you up.”

“You can’t keep this hostage, Gates,” she argued. “Talk to me. Wait. We?”

“Dav’s here on business,” he drawled. “He humored the invalid, let me tag along.”

“Are you on meds, Gates?” she asked.

“Mmmmm. Just took another dose. I hate the stuff, it makes my head swim. Stops my guts from hurting though. Except for one part.”

“Really?” Now Ana was concerned. “If you still have pain, you should talk to your doctor, or the nurses.” She heard him chuckle softly. “Seriously, Gates.”

“It’s not medical, Ana.” There was a long moment where all she could hear was his breathing.

“Gates?” she called. “Gates?”

“Hmm? I hate to say it, but I’m sleepy now, Ana,” he murmured. “I think I’m supposed to go to sleep, okay?” He laughed, like a pleased but sleepy child would. “I have these really great dreams about you, you know.”

She realized the meds had taken effect. “No, I didn’t know. Gates,” she said, hearing the pleading in her own voice, but unable to stop herself. As much as she wanted to know about his dreams, she needed the data he had. “Gates? I need to know about the search.”

“In your own building,” he said softly. “Really weird. Sleep tight, beautiful Ana. I miss you,” he whispered, and the phone went dead.

What the hell was she supposed