Jennifer Lynn Barnes - The Naturals стр 22.

You okay, Cass? Agent Locke sounded worried in spite of herself. I could practically see her wondering if shed pushed me too far, too fast.

Im fine, I said.

Liar. Lia strolled into the kitchen like a model on a catwalk, but for once, I was glad for the distraction.

Okay, I said, amending my previous statement. Im not fine, but I will be. I turned around and met Lias eyes. Satisfied?

She smiled. Delighted.

Agent Locke cleared her throat and adopted a stern expression that reminded me of Agent Briggs. Were still working here, Lia.

Lia looked at me, then at Dean, who dropped his hands to his side. No, she said. Youre not.

I wasnt sure if Lia was calling Locke out on a lie or telling the agent to back off. I also wasnt sure whether she was doing it for meor for Dean.

Fine, Agent Locke capitulated. My brilliant lecture on the difference between organized and disorganized killers can wait until tomorrow. Her phone vibrated. She picked it up, glanced at the screen for a few seconds, and then corrected herself. And by tomorrow, she said, I mean Monday. Have a good weekend.

Somebody has a case, Lia said, her eyes lighting up.

Somebody has to jet, Agent Locke replied. No rest for the wicked, and

as much as Id love to take a human lie detector with me to a crime scene, Lia, thats not what this program is. You know that.

Id gotten nauseous over pictures, long-dead women, and a killer whod already been convicted. Locke was talking about an active crime scene.

A fresh body.

Youre right, Dean said, stepping in between Lia and Locke. Thats not what this program is, he told the agent, and even from behind, I could picture the look in his eyesintense and full of warning. Not anymore.

YOU

But from the moment you first laid eyes on her, its been harder to push back the desire to kill, harder to remember why you make it a point not to play in your own backyard.

Maybe this is the way its supposed to be. Maybe its fate .

Time to finish what you started .

Time to get their attention .

Time to come home .

CHAPTER 15

What are you doing? I asked.

Sloane stared at the backs of the cards for a moment and then picked one up and moved it. Solitaire, she said.

But all of the cards are facedown.

Yes. Sloane took a sip from her mug.

How can you play Solitaire if all of the cards are facedown?

Sloane shrugged. How can you play with some of them faceup?

Sloane is something of a card shark. Briggs found her in Vegas. Lia stuck her head out of the closet. If she skims the deck once, she can more or less track the cards, even once theyre shuffled.

I registered the fact that Lia was in our closet. Metal on metal , I thought. Metal hangers sliding across a metal rack .

Hey, I said, taking a better look at Lias current attire. Thats my dress.

Mine now. Lia smiled. Didnt the FBI warn you that I have sticky fingers? Kleptomania, pathological lyingits all the same, really.

I thought Lia was joking, but I couldnt be sure.

Kidding, she confirmed after a few seconds. About the kleptomania, not about the fact that I have no intention of giving this dress back. Honestly, Sloane is the klepto in this house, but this really is more my color than yours.

I turned to Sloane, whod ratcheted the speed of her game up a notchor three.

Sloane, I said.

Yes?

Why is Lia poking around in our closet?

Sloane looked up, but didnt stop playing. Motivation is really more your domain than mine. I find most people somewhat bewildering.

I rephrased the question. Why would you let Lia poke around in our closet?

Oh, Sloane said, once she took my meaning. She brought a bribe.

Bribe? I asked. And that was when I realized what, exactly, was in Sloanes mug.

You brought her coffee?

Lia smoothed a hand over the front of my dress. Guilty as charged.

Sixteen percent of American

men have blue eyes, she informed me blithely. But over forty percent of male TV doctors do.

Watching TV with a hyped-up statistician would have been challenging enough, but Sloane wasnt the only one whod followed me to the media room after dinner.

Her mouth says, I love you, Darren , but her posture says, I cant believe the writers are doing this to my charactershe would never get involved with this schmuck! Michael popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

Do you mind? I asked him, gesturing toward the screen.

He grinned. Not at all.

I tried to tune the two of them out, but the effort was futile. I couldnt get lost in the medical melodrama any more than they could, because all I could thinkover and over againwas that Dr. Darren the Schmucks BPE simply did not add up.

We could switch to reality TV, Michael suggested.

Roughly one percent of the population are considered to be psychopaths, Sloane announced. Recent estimates suggest that over fourteen percent of reality television stars are.