He smiled grimly. She knew him too well. "My viaphone is on. Contact me if you find anything."
"I've already said I would."
He stared at her for several seconds longer, taking in her slender form, the almost defiant way she stood. Like hell she'd contact him when she found anything.
But short of tying her to a chair to keep her safe, there was nothing he could do. "Make sure you lock the door when I leave," he said, then turned and walked from the room.
* * * *
Sam scrubbed a hand across her eyes and wondered where the hell her brains were. Antagonizing Gabriel would only make him more determined to get rid of her. If that was possible.He appeared on the street below and climbed quickly into a SIU car. She wondered where he was going, as it was pretty obvious he had no intention of going back to SIU. For half a second, she thought about following him, but she knew that would only get her into deeper shit. And she was in enough of that now.
She sighed softly and turned away from the window. Though her bones ached with tiredness, she knew sleep would elude her. Not that she could sleep here anyway. What the fire hadn't destroyed, the water had. The insurance company was going to love her making another claim so soon.
She walked through to the living room and locked the front door. The firebomb's damage had been confined mainly to the bedroom. Parts of the living room had been scorched, but it was more water damage out here. The books she'd salvaged after the first bombing had borne the brunt of the second. It was doubtful she'd save anything this time.
Her portable com-unit hadn't survived the blast, but that no longer mattered. She'd downloaded the information she'd collected from Jack's computer onto disks she carried in her handbag. A backup copy was stored at the bank.
She walked into the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, she filled a large overnight bag full of clothes, collected her toiletries and the few jewelry items she had, then left.
And she had no intentions of coming back, unless it was to clear out the rubbish and hand over the keys to the new owner.
Half an hour later she walked into her office.
"Computer on," she said, dropping her bags on the floor beside her desk.
Izzy's image flicked to life. "Morning, sweetness."
"Iz, I want you to run a check on the seventeen Greenwood adoptees. See if anyone besides myself and A.D. Stern has requested information on them."
"Might take a little while."
"Time is something I have plenty of." She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. The first thing she'd better do was find a new place to stay. Somewhere secluded, perhaps. At least if she was bombed again, there'd be no neighbor's to disturb.
"Could you also dig up an accommodation guide for the Melbourne metro area?"
"On screen, sweetie."
She spent an hour scanning through the list and arranging appointments, and then she grabbed a coffee and several painkillers in an attempt to ward off the growing aches in her stomach and head. No one had ever told her having periods was so damn painful. But then, her education in that regard had come from computerized health books, not from a mom who could impart real facts.
Izzy reappeared on the com-screen. "Search results in. There's only been one other request for information, I'm afraid."
One was all they needed. "Who?"
The purple boa twirled for several moments. "One Michael Sanders, State Police."
"Michael? Not Michelle?"
"Yep."
The killer was female, that much was certain. Still, that didn't mean this Michael wasn't an accomplice. He was certainly worth talking to.
Not that she'd be talking to anyone. "Iz, send the information to A.D. Stern's viaphone, and CC it to Director Byrne. Mark it urgent."
"Consider it done, sweetie."
"Thanks."
She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the desk. Her eyes ached beyond belief, and everything else seemed to thump. It was nearly eight in the morning. Time, perhaps, to catch a nap. Certainly she was in no danger of being caught. Gabriel was the only one who seemed to know the location of her broom closet.