Free Flash of Death by Cindy Dees Page B

she replied, alarmed.
    Dammit, another good point. “No, but I can drop you off at work and pick you up, and I can watch you in your office from across the street.”
    She frowned. “I suppose I could live with that.”
    He wasn’t giving her a choice in the matter, but he refrained from sharing that particular detail with her. She was finally letting down her guard with him, and he wasn’t about to raise her hackles again unnecessarily.
    “Where do you keep a broom?” he asked.
    “Excuse me?”
    “If you’ll get a towel to mop up the wine, I’ll sweep up the broken glass.”
    She fetched him a broom and dustpan. As she disappeared into her bedroom in search of a towel, he raced through cleaning up the glass. He was done by the time she got back.
    “Man, you’re fast,” she commented. “How did you do that?”
    He swore at himself mentally. He would have to be more careful not to give away his special ability. “It wasn’t that big a job.”
    But her frown suggested she didn’t entirely believe him. To distract her, he asked, “What’s that delicious smell coming from your kitchen. Have you eaten yet?”
    “It’s cashew chicken. And, no, I haven’t. Have you?”
    He winced. “I should warn you. I’m pretty much always hungry.”
    “Good thing I made a big batch, then.”
    After a delicious supper, he called Winston Ops. “Hey, it’s Trent. Has Jeff briefed you on the latest from here? Good. Can you get a hold of the police report and find out what their preliminary guess is as to how Barry died?”
    He only had to wait a minute or so. How on earth Winston’s people got access to the San Francisco police department’s database so quickly, he hadn’t the slightest idea. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. The favors Jeff was able to call in on a moment’s notice were scary.
    Novak announced, “Death by strangulation with a metal wire. Looks like your guy was garroted.”
    Trent grimaced. That was the method of a professional killer. Quiet, fast and effective.
    Novak added, “We I.D.ed the guy from the alley last night. Mexican national, crossed over into the U.S. as recently as a week ago. Rap sheet in Mexico a mile long. But all his arrests stopped about a year ago.”
    “Police bought off to leave him alone?” Trent bit out.
    “Looks like it. If he’s involved with one of the powerful drug cartels, they’d have the power to get the Federalés off his back. We’re still working on which cartel he’s hooked up with.”
    “Thanks. Keep me updated, will you?” He ended the call.
    “Well?” Chloe demanded.
    “Well what?”
    “How did Barry die?”
    “He appears to have been murdered.” She didn’t need to know all the gory details; she was already upset enough. “How about I do the dishes so you can take a peek at those files Barry gave you?”
    She nodded and disappeared into her bedroom. When her kitchen sparkled, he dried his hands and strolled into her bedroom to check on her. She sat at her desk, concentrating fiercely on her laptop screen.
    Her apartment had about as much personality as a wet sock. Odd how so passionate a woman was so restrained in expressing herself. Her bathroom was as bland and neat as the rest of her place. He opened her closet and wasn’t surprised to find a row of boring suits. He checked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t paying attention to him and opened her drawers one by one. Nothing. No sign of the woman he’d made love with in Denver. Her socks and panties were as practical and uninspired as everything else in this place. Clearly, Chloe Jordan needed whiskey soon and often to break out of this shell she’d locked herself inside.
    He stretched out on her bed and read a newspaper for the next hour. Finally, she pushed her chair back and raised her arms over her head in a stretch. He rolled off the bed and moved behind her. Yup, that knot in her neck he’d felt in Denver was back. He dug his thumbs into it and smiled as she groaned her