Неизвестный - 5. Justice Served

“More or less,” Sloan said. “I agreed to submit a preliminary assessment of the status of their electronic retrieval and analysis capabilities, along with my recommendations for developing a state-of-the-art electronic surveillance unit. Probably once they see my bill, that will be the end of it.”

Michael laughed gently. “Why did you agree? You don’t need the work, and I can’t imagine that they’ll be able to pay your going rate.”

Sloan shrugged but said nothing. Her continued silence triggered every one of Michael’s alarms, but the persistent throbbing in her head made it hard for her to think clearly. She was aware only of a sense of unease, and her frustrating inability to process it made her headache even worse. She sighed.

“I can’t Þ gure this out on my own, love,” Michael said quietly.

“Please tell me.”

“Developing the ESU is a straightforward job. It’ll be a little frustrating due to the antiquated equipment and bureaucratic roadblocks that are sure to exist, but all in all, it might be fun.”

“And?”

Sloan pressed her lips to Michael’s temple and rubbed her hand in gentle circles over the center of Michael’s back. “And I’ll have access to every computer in the system. Somewhere in there is the answer that we’ve all been looking for.”

“You mean…” Michael began hesitantly. Frowning, she tried desperately to sort out the fragments of memory and shattered connections in her still-traumatized brain. “…who killed Rebecca’s partner?”

Sloan nodded.

“And who…hurt me?”

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RADCLY fFE

“Yes.”

“And then what will you do?”

Sloan knew the answer that Michael wanted. She knew the answer but hesitated, because she couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know.”

Michael raised her head, ignoring the surge of pain, to look into Sloan’s eyes. “You promised me you would tell Rebecca. I remember that. You promised.”

“I did,” Sloan whispered. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft fragrance of Michael’s hair. Her voice barely registered a whisper. “It’s just that…I want to hurt someone for hurting you.”

“I know.” Michael stroked Sloan’s cheek, then threaded her Þ ngers into Sloan’s hair. She raised her mouth to Sloan’s and kissed her gently.

“I won’t ask you to keep your promise, because I know that you will.”

Sloan let the comfort of Michael’s kiss soothe her troubled soul, wondering if she would be able to keep her lover’s trust.

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Justice Served

CHAPTER FOUR

Sloan jerked awake to the ringing of the bedside phone. Cursing silently, she tried to reach it without shifting Michael’s head from her shoulder, hoping not to rouse her.

“I’ll get it,” Michael whispered, rolling carefully toward the side of the bed. She retrieved the portable handset and passed it to Sloan before curling up against her lover’s side again.

“Sloan,” she said, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. She couldn’t believe she’d dropped off in the middle of the day. She rarely slept, day or night, when in the middle of a project. The investigation with Rebecca’s team had been ongoing for several weeks, and her role in it had grown so steadily that she and Jason had put all their other contracts on hold. Now, when she was so close to a breakthrough—with Þ nding Michael’s assailant as the payoff—she could think of little else.

Only her concern for Michael’s well-being took precedence. “Uh-huh.

Sure. That sounds Þ ne.”

“Problem?” Michael asked when Sloan hung up with a faint groan.

“No, just a meeting with Frye.” Sloan kissed Michael’s forehead and eased away. “But I’m going to have to go. I’m sorry. You should sleep a little longer.”

Michael laughed. “Darling, all I do is sleep.” She sat up slowly, then stood. “Let me walk you out.”

Sloan took her hand as they left the bedroom. “You know, there’s something I forgot to tell you. I invited Mitchell to stay here for a few days—until she’s getting around a little bit better.”

“I think that’s a good idea. When is she coming?”

“Today sometime. Her girlfriend Sandy too.”

“Well, we’ve got room.”

“You don’t mind?” Sloan stopped in front of the loft doors and

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RADCLY fFE

curved an arm around Michael’s waist, drawing her near. “Because if it’s too much—”

“I don’t plan on cooking and cleaning for them, darling,” Michael chided gently. “It’ll be Þ ne. The company will be nice.” She kissed Sloan lingeringly, cleaving to her as she did. When she drew away, she sighed contentedly. “God, you feel so good.”

“You too,” Sloan replied, her voice husky and low.

“My headache’s gone.” Michael cupped her hand behind Sloan’s neck and kissed her again.

“Oh, baby,” Sloan gasped. “I have to go. Frye is going to be here any minute.”

“You go ahead.” Michael smiled, her eyes liquid with desire. “I’ll be here later.”

“I know,” Sloan murmured, drawing a Þ nger along the edge of Michael’s jaw and over her mouth. “And knowing that is the best thing in my life.”

v

In the conference room on the third ß oor of Sloan’s building, Rebecca helped herself to a cup of coffee. The rest of the huge space was partitioned into various work areas crammed with computers and a vast array of electronic equipment, some of which was not yet available on the open market. At the sound of footsteps at her back, she turned and greeted Sloan. “Sorry for the short notice.”

Wordlessly, Sloan shrugged and headed straight for the coffeepot.

She poured a cup, took a long sip, and lounging against the counter, regarded Rebecca inquiringly. “No problem. Something come up?”

“Clark arrived for a meeting with Henry, and I decided I needed to be unavailable.”

“What’s that bastard doing back in the picture?”

“I don’t know.” Rebecca looked past Sloan to the door and nodded to the handsome blond man who stood on the threshold. His expensive, meticulously tailored shirt and pants contrasted distinctly to Sloan’s casual attire, but the shadows beneath his deep blue eyes mirrored hers.

“Hi, Jase. How’s it going?”

Jason McBride, Sloan’s associate at Sloan Security, smiled tiredly.

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Justice Served

“It feels like moving a mountain with a tablespoon, there’s so much data to sift through.”

“You should take a break before Sarah comes and drags you out of here,” Sloan suggested, referring to her best friend and Jason’s live-in lover. “Go home, get some sleep.”

“Yeah, like you, I suppose,” Jason remarked with friendly sarcasm.

“I just woke up.”

Clearly surprised, Jason sank into one of the chairs at the conference table. “So miracles really do happen.”

Laughing, Sloan joined him.

Jason looked to Rebecca. “What’s happening on your end?”

“A few noteworthy bits, but let’s wait for Watts. He’ll be here any minute.”

Right on cue, a subdued pinging emanated from a speaker in the far corner of the room. All three heads turned toward the bank of security monitors lined up along the wall. The Þ rst screen showed an image projected from the video camera above the street-level door.

Watts stood on the top step, frowning up at the camera. Before Sloan could buzz him in, he turned his back to the building, as if looking back down the street.

“Hey,” Jason said as another Þ gure materialized. “That’s Mitchell!”

“I’d better go give them a hand,” Sloan said, punching in a number sequence on a keypad to release the security locks on the street-level door.