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By Root 525 0

and we’d shaken hands with Bethann, we all turned around and went for the elevators. The reporters were screaming at us, “What did you put in the safe?” We had some of them shouting “Keith,” but some were actually shouting the right name. “Jason, Jason, have you talked to Jean-Claude?” “Anita, is he better in bed than the vampires?” We ignored all questions. The earlier disastrous impromptu news conference had taught us our lesson. The press was a danger neither of us knew how to handle, not at this level. It was like being really good at peewee football and suddenly realizing you were up against pros. We were out of our league, and now we knew it.

Most of the uniformed guards stayed in the lobby, probably to wrangle the press so that other guests had a chance of walking through the lobby without being brained by a boom mic.

Shad and Rowe took up posts near the door, with us behind them. I looked at the line of their suits and knew where everyone’s gun was, and that Shad was carrying something extra in his pocket, and Rowe had something on his ankle. I was betting the ankle was a small gun, but the pocket could have been a lot of things, just not a gun. Not a gun opened up a wealth of possibilities.

Jason leaned over and whispered, “I would accuse you of checking them out, but you’re looking for weapons, aren’t you?”

I just nodded.

He hugged me one-armed and gave an excited sound, almost a laugh, but not. His eyes were bright with anticipation.

I whispered, “How many of these girls are old girlfriends?”

“All of them.”

“How many are old lovers?”

He grinned. “Most of them.”

“Great.”

He hugged me tighter. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You’re always good, Jason,” I said out loud, “but will you behave?”

He gave me a look, and the look was enough. He’d try, but no, the honest answer, was no. I sighed and settled back against the wall as the elevator came to a stop. We had, of course, gone all the way to the top. The rich and powerful always seem to prefer the tops of buildings. Hasn’t anyone ever explained to them that higher just means you have farther to fall?

32

SHADWELL STEPPED OFF the elevator first. Rowe stayed with us. I’d had enough bodyguards of my own not to argue. When Shadwell was certain it was safe, he’d let us know. He stepped to one side with a nod and Rowe motioned us forward.

That was the most serious bodyguarding they’d done, and it made me nervous. Were there threats on Keith Summerland’s life? If so, Jason and he looked enough alike that it could be a serious problem. Maybe there was more than one reason that we suddenly had guards. Shit.

One of the doors in the hallway had Peterson standing sort of at attention by it. Chuck was talking low and urgently to him. So this was where the two of them had vanished to.

Chuck turned, and gave Jason a look. It was neither friendly nor unfriendly, but it wasn’t a good look. It was more as if he were trying to see Jason, see what he was made of, and what it meant. I didn’t like the look. It meant Chuck was thinking too hard about Jason. We were leaving this town in a day. That look was too serious for in twenty-four hours we’re gone.

Chuck smoothed his suit jacket where it had bunched over his gun, and said, over his shoulder, as he moved past us for the elevator, “It’s your ball until I get back, Peterson.”

“You aren’t technically my superior, Ralston.”

So Chuck did have a last name after all. Peterson didn’t sound very happy with him by any name.

Chuck walked past us like we weren’t there. The uniformed guard was holding the doors of the elevator open as if he’d been ordered to. “If you don’t like it, Peterson, call the governor, see who he thinks is in charge tonight.”

Peterson’s face closed down, fighting for blankness, but his hands flexed, and I knew pissed when I saw it. What had been happening between the two of them while we’d been in Shadwell and Rowe’s tender care? Something was up; question was, what? It was none of my business; I kept repeating that in my head like a mantra. Jason had gotten me to promise that I would not mess