Free Night Whispers by Judith McNaught Page A

sticking to her like soot. "I don't know what you think he's done, but whatever it is, I'm not involved. I haven't had anything to do with him in my entire life."
    "We know all that." He glanced toward the shoreline where three men were running in their direction, one of them with a flashlight, its beam bouncing and fanning the sand like a lighthouse beacon gone haywire. "It looks like your reinforcements are on the way," Richardson observed, taking her by the elbow and propelling her forward. "Let's go meet them."
    Sloan moved automatically, but her legs felt like wood and her brain like sawdust. "Be casual," the agent instructed. "Introduce me. If anyone asks, we met in Fort Lauderdale two months ago when you were attending the police seminar, and you invited me to Bell Harbor for the holiday weekend. Now, smile and wave at them."
    Sloan nodded and obeyed, but she couldn't think of anything except that the FBI was investigating Carter Reynolds… and they'd been tailing her… and a few moments ago, this particular FBI agent had tried to see if she'd take a bribe!
    Jess reached them first, well ahead of the others, his breathing unaffected by his run. "We thought we heard shots coming from here," he said, scanning the dunes. "Didn't you hear it?"
    Sloan made a valiant effort to seem amused while she lied to a trusted friend who'd just raced to her rescue. "Those were firecrackers, Jess. Two teenagers set them off in the dunes and then split."
    "It sounded like shots," Jess argued, planting his hands on his hips and staring beyond her shoulder.
    Ted Burnby and Leo Reagan lumbered to a stop a few moments later. "We thought we heard shots," Ted panted, but Leo Reagan was incapable of speech. Forty pounds overweight and completely out of shape, he leaned over and braced his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
    "A couple of teenage boys were setting off firecrackers," Sloan lied again, feeling more awkward and resentful with each falsehood.
    Leo and Ted accepted that far more readily than Jess, but then Jess was smarter and more streetwise, a big city cop who'd defected to a less violent community but whose instincts were still sharp. After a few moments more, he finally gave up his frowning visual search of the dunes and frowned at her instead. "Pete's party is almost over," he said bluntly. "We were wondering why you hadn't shown up."
    In the current circumstances, there was only one possible, believable answer Sloan could give. "I was on my way there just now."
    He dropped his hands from his hips, adopting a slightly less aggressive stance as he surveyed her companion. "Who is this?"
    To Sloan's relief, the FBI agent decided to introduce himself. "Paul Richardson," he said, reaching forward to shake hands with Jess, then Ted and Leo. Positively exuding relaxed male cordiality, he added, "I'm a friend of Sloan's from Fort Lauderdale."
    "If you plan to get anything to eat at Pete's party, you'd better get over there," Leo warned the agent, his thoughts ever reverting to food. "The nachos are already gone, but the chili dogs are good."
    "I've had a long day," Agent Richardson regretfully replied; then he looked at Sloan and said smoothly, "Sloan, you go to the party without me."
    Sloan panicked. He intended to vanish without answering any more questions! She'd unmasked him, and now he would simply disappear from Bell Harbor, leaving her in an agony of uncertainty, with no way of finding out why the FBI was watching her. She was so desperate to stop him that she actually clutched his arm. "Oh, but I want you to meet Pete," she insisted. "We'll only stay a few minutes."
    "I'd really be a drag tonight."
    "No you wouldn't," Sloan said breezily.
    His eyes narrowed in warning. "I think I would be."
    "You couldn't possibly be a drag. You're such an
interesting
person."
    "You're biased."
    "No, I'm not," she argued, and in desperation Sloan switched to veiled blackmail and said to her friends, "Let me explain how
really