to live with himself if she got hurt and he didn’t warn her. And that was the only reason he would seek her out.
Chapter 11
“You know what, go to hell!” Kylie shoved her chair back from the table, pushing hard enough with her legs that it squeaked loudly across the floor. She couldn’t hold her anger in any longer. “Don’t ever suggest that I don’t know how to do my fucking job,” she hissed, gritting her teeth together so hard her jaw hurt.
“What I’m suggesting is that you keep a safe distance from anyone who might be viewed as a suspect,” John Athey said. He remained seated at the opposite end of the long, narrow conference table, his tone as cool as his expression. “Especially in light of what happened last night. It seems rather odd to me that Lieutenant Flynn just happened to be at the exact location you agreed to meet this Peter.”
“Last night I verified that PeteTakesU is not a teenager, that he drives a black Suburban. Sitting here going over everything that didn’t go right, instead of seeing what did go right is a waste of my time.”
“How do you know your guy was in that Suburban?” John demanded, his cool tone almost more annoying than his idiotic line of questioning.
“He sat there in his car with his brights on me for several minutes before approaching.” Kylie shoved her chair back further from the table in the meeting room at the FBI field office. It made a loud screeching sound against the floor.
“What proof do you have that Flynn wasn’t the one there to meet you?” John demanded, ignoring her comment. “Why the hell would he just happen to show up in that parking lot at the same time you were supposed to meet someone?”
Kylie had no idea why Perry was there last night. But the next time she saw him, he would get a piece of her mind, and his ass kicked if he pulled any macho crap on her.
“Are you sure you got the tag number right?” Paul held his hand up defensively, stopping her before she could bite John’s head off. “If you did, it’s fake.”
Kylie slapped the table with her palm and glared at John. “More proof, if you ask me, that we’ve got our guy. I’ll flush him out again. At least we know we’re on the right trail.”
“Kylie,” John said when she turned toward the door, making her name sound like a warning. “We already know our guy is a cop. Flynn was there. Maybe you should think twice before you believe you are chasing some black Suburban that just happens to have illegal tags. That’s hardly the same level of crime as raping and killing young girls.”
She ignored him, stepping out of the conference room at the FBI field office. The last thing she would tell any of them was that Perry probably had followed her to the bowling alley, since he had promised her he would return last night. More than likely he saw her leave her home. But offering that bit of information would open a can of worms. And she wasn’t going to go there. It was bad enough getting chewed out because her meet didn’t go down right.
There wasn’t anything to tell John anyway. Perry knew her because of her involvement with his nieces. End of story. She blew out an exasperated breath, knowing there would be a confrontation with him soon and unable to quit speculating as to how that meeting might turn out.
She wanted to beat the crap out of Perry, knock some sense into him, show that dominating, aggressive man that he couldn’t push her around, or follow her and yell at her from across a parking lot. That’s what she wanted to do. Pound some kind of acknowledgment into his thick, sexy skull and make him see who he was messing with.
Kylie stopped at her car, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, she fought to get her temper under control. Daydreaming about taking her fists and beating that steel chest of his wasn’t doing a damn thing but getting her hot and bothered. Pissed and horny was a bad combination.
“Kylie,” Paul said, hurrying out the door. “Wait up a minute.”
He hurried toward her, his straight brown hair falling in thin strands over his forehead. Paul pushed his glasses up his nose and offered a weak smile.
“John’s got a hot temper. He’s not