“What’s up, Malone?” he growled.
“I was starting to think you weren’t home. You usually jump on the phone halfway through the first ring.”
“I was making another pot of coffee. Been a long night. Why are you calling?”
Luther provided a brief run-through of the encounter and waited patiently while Fallon brooded on the new factor in the equation.
“I agree that it’s unlikely that you and Ms. Renquist would run across a high-grade hunter within a short distance of your hotel,” Fallon said finally. “It’s a red flag but not a huge one. Sensitives go on vacation in Hawaii like anyone else. Hell, it could have been a Jones.”
“I know there are a lot of hunters hanging around your family tree, Fallon, but what are the odds that one of them is here at the same time that Grace and I are supposed to be conducting surveillance on a high-grade killer?”
“Probably somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve percent. Lot of Joneses live on the West Coast and a lot of ’em like to vacation in Hawaii. Been there myself.”
“You took a vacation?”
“It was a long time ago. Before I got this job. You’re sure the guy was a hunter? Any chance he might have been some other kind of talent? Maybe Eubanks got in early?”
“You said Eubanks is a level-nine strategist. This guy was definitely a hunter. Grace and I both made him.”
“Okay, I’m a little tired at the moment,” Fallon said. “Not at my best. Let me think about this some more. Meanwhile, stick to the original plan. If Eubanks shows up on schedule tomorrow, we can probably assume that the hunter’s presence in the area is just a coincidence.”
The weariness in Fallon’s voice was extremely unusual. In the two years Luther had been working for him, he had never heard the head of J&J sound so exhausted.
“Thought you didn’t believe in coincidences, Fallon.”
“No,” Fallon said. “I don’t. Keep an eye out for the hunter. If he shows up again, I want an ID on him, too.”
“Figured you’d say that. I’ll look for him after I put Grace on a plane back to Oregon.”
In the shadows, Grace stiffened. Her chin came up at a stubborn angle.
“You’re going to need her to spot him again,” Fallon said.
“No, I won’t. I just told you, I had no trouble identifying him as a hunter tonight.”
“Only because he was jacked up. If he had been cranked back, just sitting around a pool, would you have been able to spot him?”
They both knew the answer to that question.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “But I don’t want Grace getting near him.”
“She’s a J&J agent, just like you. She has the right to make her own decisions in situations like this.”
“She’s a specialist, not a trained field agent.”
“Damn it, Malone—”
“I’ll get back to you.”
The phone went dead in his ear. He closed it and clipped it to his belt.
“Well?” Grace said. “What now?”
“We stay with the plan. Wait for our target to arrive and ID him.”
“And then we try to find out the identity of the hunter,” she said briskly.
“Fallon would like to know who he is, if possible, but I can find him on my own.”
“It would be easier if I stick around to help you.”
“Grace—”
“I can handle it. I’ll be prepared next time. I won’t freak out on you, I promise.”
“Forget it.”
“I overheard that conversation with Fallon,” she said, going mutinous. “He told you it’s my choice to make, didn’t he?”
“There are times when I don’t pay any attention to Fallon Jones. This is one of those golden moments.”
“You need me,” she insisted. “Admit it.”
“I need you to be reasonable. Chasing down hunters is not your area of expertise.”
“This is all because I got a little anxious tonight when we passed that hunter, isn’t it? That’s hardly fair.”
He felt his temper start to slide. “Fair has nothing to do with this. You’re not a trained agent. You’re a genealogist who got drafted for an emergency field trip. When it’s over, you’re going home as fast as I can get you on a plane.”
She drew herself up in the shadows. “Mr. Jones obviously has other ideas. I work for him, not you.”
“Got news for you. When you’re with me, you take orders from me.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she snapped. “Give the bullheaded, I’m-in-charge-here thing a rest.”
“That’s not what us bullheaded, I’m-in-charge-here types do. I think we’d better talk about this in the morning when you’re in a more reasonable mood.”
“Now you’re patronizing me.”
“Is that what it’s called? I think of it as just doing my job. Let’s go back to the hotel. You’ve had a long day.”
Automatically, he started to reach for her arm, intending to steer her out of the gardens. She took a quick step back out of reach. So much for thinking he was special because she could touch him. He let his hand fall to his side and tried to suppress the wave of gloom that resonated through him.
“One thing before we leave here,” she said softly.
“What now?”
“Would you mind very much if I tried touching you again?”
The gloom dissolved in a heartbeat, replaced by a thrill that zapped across all his senses. In the next instant comprehension struck. His initial excitement faded.
“You want to run an experiment?” he asked. “See if things are different this time now that you’re not distracted by the hunter?”
“Well, yes,” she said. “Look, if you’d rather I didn’t touch you, I certainly understand. Better than most people, in fact. I mean, I really understand why someone wouldn’t want to be touched.”
“No,” he said. “No, It’s okay. I don’t have a problem with the experiment.”
He held out his hand, palm up. Great. He’d been reduced to the level of a lab rat.
She took a cautious step forward, as wary as any wild bird being offered food by a human. Slowly she put out her hand.
Her fingertips hovered just above his for a few seconds, and then she brushed them across his palm, alighting briefly before immediately taking flight. He resisted the urge to capture her wrist and draw her closer.