Page 98 of Slow Burn

“Gone. They drove his Mercedes to San Antonio and sold it the next morning for cash, hopped a flight to Florida. We lost track of them after that. Oh, and there was a man involved, too. James Patterson, alias Psycho Jim. Professional small-time thief. Other than the fact one of the women boosted him out of the hospital, there’s no information so far. I really don’t expect there will be.”

“Were they yours?” he asked. She looked at him with those secretive eyes, that faint half-smile, and he knew that no matter what, he loved her. He couldn’t help it. “Okay. What about the sweatshirts that were looted out of the truck?”

“We’ve issued a statement that they’re contaminated with toxic chemicals.”

“True enough.”

“We expect to get a ninety percent return.” She shook her head. “It gets warm in this town by March. The other ten percent will probably take care of themselves.”

The nurses came in silently to take Sally. He left before he could see it happen, walking too fast for Carling’s slow rehabilitating steps to match.

She caught up with him at the elevator.

“I suppose you got the formula,” he said to her, as if nothing had happened.Oh, my baby girl.She shrugged. “It’s what you were sent to do, wasn’t it? Get the formula?”

“Among other things.”

“What do you think they’ll do with it?”

“Not my mission, Marty. I’m in acquisitions, not applications.” The tone was just right, casual and careless, but there was a subtle tension around her mouth.Ah, Adrian, not so tough as you think you are.

“You might think about stopping them,” he said. “I’m thinking about it. Hypothetically speaking.”

She gave him a long serious look. The elevator arrived and a doctor got out, two nurses pushed in. She entered last, turned, held the doors open.

“Coming?”

He shook his head. She reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“Stay cool, Marty,” she said. Her fingers squeezed. “Stay out of it. Hypothetically speaking.”

He knew, as the elevator doors shut between them, that she knew him better than that.