Sense of Evil - Kay Hooper [76]
“We provide a continental breakfast on Sunday morning, Agent Adams. From eight to eleven. In case you and your partner didn't know that.”
“I'll be sure to tell her. Have a nice night, Patty.”
“You, too, Agent Adams.” She sounded consoling, sympathetic, obviously since Isabel was going to bed alone.
Isabel escaped up the stairs, hoping that glass front door was, at the very least, soundproofed. She stopped by Hollis's room and knocked softly, reasonably sure her partner was still up but not sure she wanted company.
But Hollis opened the door immediately, saying, “I actually ordered a pizza a couple of hours ago. And ate some of it. Does that mean I'm taking a step closer to becoming accustomed to dead bodies?”
“It means your own body is healthy and needs sustenance, mostly,” Isabel replied, stepping into the room. “But, yeah, it's a good sign you can handle the more gross aspects of the job. I'd put it in the plus column.”
“Good. I need more checks in the plus column. I was beginning to feel horribly inadequate.” Hollis invited her in with a gesture, adding, “I have an extra Pepsi here. Or did you get enough caffeine with dinner?”
“Enough. Plus, I really need a good night's sleep.” Isabel frowned slightly, but said, “The plan is to meet up at the station by nine-thirty. Patty, downstairs, says the inn offers a continental breakfast on Sunday morning. We can go down between eight and eight-thirty, if that's okay with you.”
“Sure.” Hollis studied her thoughtfully as she went to sit on her bed beside a closed pizza box. “You look sort of . . . disconcerted. Rafe?”
“He's a little more complicated than I bargained for,” Isabel admitted, wandering around the small bedroom somewhat restlessly. “Even the clairvoyant stuff I picked up didn't warn me about that. Dammit.”
“You told him?”
“My horror story? Yeah.”
“And?”
“He . . . handled it really well. Didn't freak out, didn't act like I was suddenly a leper. Compassionate and understanding and very discerning.” She frowned again and added in a dissatisfied tone, “Also a cautious man.”
Hollis grinned. “Wasn't ready to just jump into bed, huh?”
“Now, what makes you think—”
“Oh, come on, Isabel. As soon as we talked earlier, I could see the wheels turning. You saw a potential emotional complication looming and, characteristically, your response was to charge toward it head-on. If he was going to be a problem in any way whatsoever, you intended to deal with it now. Whether he was ready or not.”
“Why is everybody else suddenly so perceptive as to my motives?” Isabel demanded. “I'm supposed to be the clairvoyant one. Look, I wasn't after a one-night stand. Necessarily. It's just . . . things are simpler when the physical stuff is out of the way, that's all.”
Shaking her head, Hollis said, “Well, now I can understand why your past relationships weren't entirely successful, if that's your attitude about sex. Just something to get over and done with?”
“I didn't say that.”
“Yes, you did. You're a lot of things, Isabel, but subtle isn't one of them. You probably as good as told the man you wanted to sleep with him so you wouldn't be distracted having to think about it anymore.”
“I was not that blunt.”
“Maybe not, but I'm sure he got the gist of it.”
Isabel sat down in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and scowled at Hollis. “The SCU therapist says I have a few emotional issues about giving up control.”
“No, really?”
“It's not a big thing. I just . . . prefer to make the first move whenever possible.”
“Because the last guy you allowed to make the first move turned out to be a twisted, evil bastard. Yeah, I get that. I imagine Rafe gets it as well.”
“I don't like having transparent motives,” Isabel announced. “It makes me feel naked.”
Hollis smiled. “Don't snap at the messenger. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.”
Isabel sighed. “It's about control. I know it's about control. Even after all these years, I can't help feeling . . . wary. Not of men in general, just of men who might—possibly—mean something to me. Especially