"And do you intend going after this madman?"
She nodded, half expecting him to warn her off the case. As usual, MacEwan did the unexpected.
"Keep me informed of all developments, then.” He dropped the half-finished cigarette on the ground, crushing it under his boot heel. Then he gave her a wintry smile. “I am not as blind as you might think. I've seen things—” He hesitated and shrugged. “Lets just say I'm not unwilling to believe there are some things on this earth that defy explanation. Just be careful. I can do without the extra paperwork." He gave her a brief nod and walked away. She turned her gaze to the priest, watching him sprinkle water over the soil.
The back of her neck tingled in warning, and she turned. Jake walked across the road and entered the church through the main gate. Michael wasn't with him, but he was near. His anger washed over her, almost smothering in its intensity.
"Heard over the police radio they'd found Monica.” Jake stopped and regarded the priest's actions with interest. “This all that's left?"
She nodded. “She went up like a torch."
"One down, one to go.” There was little remorse in his voice. Taking her elbow, he pulled her away from the church. “But just what in hell did you think you were doing? You could have gotten yourself killed!"
She wrenched her arm out of his grip and stopped to glare at him. “What in hell did you think you were doing, leaving without me this morning?” If they'd been here with her, Monica might still be alive. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be less worried about Jasper being able to control her.
"We did what we thought best to keep you safe.” He shrugged. “I guess it was a mistake."
"I thought we were a team, Jake."
"We are, Nik. But sometimes you scare me. It's almost as if ... as if you have no sense of your own well being. You just keep pushing yourself.” He looked at her grimly. “Sometimes I think you have a death wish."
She snorted softly. And yet there'd been times in the past when she certainly hadn't cared whether she lived or died. Maybe that was why she had been such an easy target for Tommy. “Even if I did, what business is it of yours?"
"Damn it, do I have to spell it out? You're like a damned daughter to me. I don't want to see you hurt!" She was an idiot, no doubt about it. She touched his arm gently. “I'm sorry." He sighed and shook his head. “You've been on your own too long, kiddo. It's about time you let someone in."
He was talking about Michael, not himself. “Father figure or not, does the phrase ‘mind your own business’ mean anything to you?"
"It's one I have great trouble with.” He held a hand out. “Give me your keys. I want you to go talk to Michael. Now, Nikki,” he added when she hesitated.
She swore softly but knew better than to argue when he used that tone of voice. She dug the keys out of her pocket. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear you've been drinking."
"One or two. I'm safe to drive."
"My car's parked across the road. I'll see you back at the office." He nodded. “Trust him, Nik. Let him in."
She scowled and turned away. She had no intention of letting anyone in, especially Michael. It was too damn dangerous. He was too damn dangerous.
Jake's Mercedes was parked in the shadows of an old elm. The darkly-tinted windows prevented any view inside, and yet she could feel Michael's anger as if it were her own. She opened the driver's side door and climbed in. Michael watched her silently, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. He made no comment as she started the engine and drove off. Though she kept her eyes on the road, she couldn't help being aware of every little move he made. Now that she was here, she feared talking to him. But just what did she fear? Him? Or herself?
"Why?” he asked softly, after several minutes.
It was a question that could have meant anything. She chose to answer the most obvious. “Monica had to be stopped. You know that."
"Yes. But not before she'd led us to Jasper."
Nikki bit her lip. So that was why Jasper had wanted her dead. “You never told me that, Michael. You never trusted me enough, did you?"
He made a sound suspiciously like a deep-throated growl. “No other observations, while you're at it?
No other accusations?” His voice was almost mocking, hinting at the anger she couldn't see but could sense.
"There was this morning, when I woke alone.” But she'd killed someone since then. Her fingers tightened against the wheel, but she fought the rising fear, not wanting him to sense it. “I've had time to think."
"I just bet you have."
She shot him a quick look, unsure how to take his remark. His face was as remote as ever.
"So what did you come up with?” He shifted slightly in his seat, facing her. She didn't trust his tone. It was too polite. Too controlled. “One question."