The Midnight Hour - Brenda Jackson [82]
As soon as Sinclair went into the house, the Red Hunter eased his car forward, glad it had turned night and that the illumination from the streetlights wasn't directly on him. Moving quickly, he got out of the car and attached a small transmitter underneath the side of Sinclair's truck. Getting back into his car he quickly drove off, satisfied with what he had accomplished and totally convinced that in due time, Sinclair would lead him straight to his prey.
CHAPTER 12
Sandy was alive.
Drake was sure he had walked the circumference of Trevor's property and he was still consumed with anger and filled with disbelief, although deep down he knew Tori's claim was true. There had been something about her that had pulled him in to her from the first. That day he had sat in the coffee shop and watched her walk in, he had felt some sort of an affinity to her, a connection.
Tori Green was Sandy.
He shook his head. In some ways she was Sandy and in other ways she was not. He frowned, knowing that it didn't make sense, but it was something he needed to accept and somehow get beyond the anger and betrayal that he felt. He knew all that should matter was that she was alive and hadn't died in that explosion but for some reason he couldn't accept that Tori was Sandy. The only two people who knew about their secret rendezvous the night before were him and Sandy. No other person had known they had made love by the stream, the conversations they'd shared and the promises they'd made.
For five years she had been alive and hadn 't told him.
She claimed she had done it to protect him. He hadn't needed her to protect him, dammit! Drake Warren could take care of himself. He could have protected them both. And even if they'd had to go into the Witness Protection Program for a while, he would have made do as long as the two of them were together. How dare she decide his future for him.
And she'd insinuated that it had been Hawk's decision, one she had meekly followed. Drake inhaled deeply. Of course it had been Hawk's decision, and Drake could very well see him almost single-handedly pulling things off. The man was well respected for being fair, honest, and above-board. The top brass, the upper honchos in the executive office-all the way up to the president-respected him, admired his integrity and had basically let him run his own show. No one had been surprised last year when he'd been offered the job of deputy director of the CIA, which would have placed him in a position to exercise the powers of the director when the director's position was vacant or in the director's absence or disability. And those who also knew him hadn't been surprised when he had turned the position down, deciding to retire after serving his country for over thirty years, first as a marine then as operations chief in the CIA, in charge of international organized crime as well as arms-control intelligence.
Drake sighed deeply, wondering who else had known about Tori being Sandy. Had Trevor and Ashton known? He shook his head, knowing that wasn't the case. There was a chance Ashton knew now, after seeing Tori today and putting two and two together; but Drake believed that like him, neither man had had a clue. Sandy had been their friend and they had also mourned her death.
Her death.
Now that was a laugh since Sandy hadn't actually died.
He continued walking, too mad to think straight. Then there was the reality that a seriously crazy bastard was after them. Had all Hawk and Tori's carefully laid plans been for nothing since it seemed that Cross had found out she was alive anyway? There were questions he needed to ask, answers he had to have straight in his mind; but at the moment he needed to be alone. He had to be alone.
Tori lay in bed. When she head the sound of Drake returning she glanced over at the clock. He'd been gone for two solid hours. The agent in her had to be sure it was Drake returning and not an intruder. Grabbing her pistol off the nightstand, she flicked