“I'm not going anywhere.” He stared directly in her eyes. “Why should I? I'd bet that bastard Trask has done my job for me.”

Kerry didn't return to the waiting room until three hours later.

“Let's go,” she said curtly.

He rose to his feet. “May I ask where?”

“I need a shower, food, and something to wear besides these surgical greens the nurse gave me.”

“What about your brother?”

“He won't leave Laura. They're letting him stay here at the hospital.”

“You don't want to stay with him?”

“He doesn't need anyone but Laura now. I'd be intruding on a private grief.” She headed for the door. “Where are you staying?”

“The Marriott.” He reached for his phone. “I'll book a room for you and one for your brother for tomorrow night. Okay?”

She nodded. “I don't know if he'll use it, but it's a good idea. Clothes?”

“I'll have them open the gift shop early and buy you a few things to hold you over until we can get yours from Atlanta.”

“I'm not even going to ask how you intend to make them do that.”

“No hocus-pocus.” He took her elbow. “I'll bribe them.”

Kerry had showered, washed her hair, and was blow-drying it when Silver knocked on the door two hours later.

He had also showered and changed, and he handed her a plastic bag when she opened the door. “That towel is fetching, but you'll be more comfortable in these. Pants, sweatshirt, and makeup. Sorry, they didn't have underwear. I sent the bellhop to the mall to pick up some.”

“You know my size, I suppose.”

“Bra thirty-four B, size-five panties.” He sat down in the easy chair by the window. “I've ordered room service. Soup, chicken sandwiches, and coffee. Okay?”

She nodded. “Anything.” She took the bag into the bathroom and closed the door. A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom in the tan pants and green sweatshirt. “Shoes?”

“They'll arrive with the underwear. Size-seven tennis shoes. New Balance, not Nike.”

Her lips tightened. “You know everything about me.”

“No, I don't. But details like that are hard not to pick up.”

“When you were ‘monitoring' me. Do you know how angry that makes me?”

“Of course. I'd be furious too.” He smiled faintly. “You look like Little Orphan Annie with your hair curly like that. It's very appealing. I don't know why you struggle so to keep it straight.”

“Because I'm not Orphan Annie. I'm an adult, and I want to look like what I am.” She sat down opposite him. “I don't like deception and I hate invasion of my privacy.”

“You've already made that point.”

“Because you intruded in the most intimate and ugly way possible. That stinks.”

He nodded, waiting.

“And I'm never going to forgive you for bringing that monster into our lives. Your culpability is only a little behind the man who started that fire.”

“I accept that.” He met her gaze. “But I think you've decided who's tops on your hit list.”

“You come pretty damn close,” she said coldly.

“I'm everything you hate. I'm a complete son of a bitch. But you wouldn't be talking to me without a reason. So tell me why I'm here.”

“I want answers.” Her hands tightened on the arms of the chair. “I want that son of a bitch who killed Jason's son. I want him so bad that I can taste it.”

“I thought you'd feel that way. You're a very loving and protective woman and have a strong maternal streak.”

“Stop analyzing. You don't really know anything about me.”

He shrugged.

She felt a flare of anger. “Damn you. Anything you know is stolen. I feel as if you robbed me.” With an effort she smothered the rage. “It's not going to happen again. If I decide to help you find this Trask, you've got to promise me you won't ever do what you did to me when Charlie was dying.”

“I promise.”

“And you won't . . . intrude.”

“Never without your permission.”

“And you'll never get that.”

“Perhaps. Situations sometimes dictate radical measures.” He shook his head as she started to speak. “But I won't trespass again. I don't usually, anyway. Do you think I'm some damn peeping Tom? It's very uncomfortable until I become accustomed to all the nooks and crannies.”

“Nooks and crannies?”

“Besides, you've put up barriers against me. It wouldn't be easy to jump over them.”

“But not impossible?”

He scowled. “You would have to ask that question when I'm doing my best to reassure you.”

“You could do it?”

“Maybe. I'm pretty good.” He added, “But like I said, I do have certain ethical standards. When I saw how this thing I have was shaking out, I had to develop a code. Otherwise I could see myself developing into someone pretty unpleasant.” He grimaced. “Not that I don't fall from grace more than I'd like to admit. I'm not like Travis. I get angry and I want to strike back with no holds barred.”

“If you're trying to reassure me, you're doing a lousy job.”

“But I'm letting you get to know me. And the devil you know . . .” He met her gaze. “You've already told me how you hate deceit. I won't be handing you any of that. What you see is what you get. I've given you my promise and I'll keep it.”

“If I don't piss you off.”

“That's not likely if we're on the same team.”

A polite knock on the door.

“Room service.” He rose to his feet and moved toward the door. “You'll feel better once you've had something to eat. You're a little hypoglycemic and get edgy without protein.”

“I'm not hypo—” She let it go. It was only a pinprick and there were more important things to worry about. “And I'd be edgy regardless of how much protein I'd had. I have the right.”

“Yep.” He wheeled the service cart into the room and kicked the door shut with his foot. “That you do. But food always helps.”

It did help. She hadn't realized she was hungry until she started to eat. She finished the chicken sandwich and the tomato soup in minutes.

“Not so shaky now?” Silver poured her a cup of coffee.

There was no way she was going to admit that she had been shaky before. “I'm perfectly all right.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “You didn't eat much.”

“I robbed the minibar in my room while I was waiting for you to shower and pull yourself together.” He poured his own coffee. “I've got a passion for cashew nuts.”

“Really? I wouldn't think you'd have a passion for anything.”

“You're wrong. But you have a right to your opinion, and it probably makes you feel safer to imagine me as cold and clinical.” He smiled. “I have a passion for all kinds of things. I'm nuts about NASCAR races, baseball, scuba, opera, dogs, and blondes who look like Gwyneth Paltrow. I just don't have much time for them.”

“Too busy digging around where you don't belong?”

“Exactly.”

“Then why can't you find Trask?”

“Ah, we're back to ground zero.” He lifted his cup to his lips. “I can't sense him. I'm blind to him. Besides, it's not my talent.”

“I can't believe you didn't try to get one of your psychic buddies who could sense him.”

“Oh, I did. No luck. So I've had to try to do old-fashioned detective work, but we've still come up with nothing.”

“Then why not call in someone who has more experience, like the police?”

“We did. Police. FBI. ATF. Secret Service. They all batted out.”

“And why would any of those government agencies even be interested in trying to catch Trask?”

He didn't speak for a moment. “Do I have a commitment from you?”

“If he's the man who burned Jason's house down.”

“I think you know he is.”

Yes, she knew. The tendrils of emotion and memory had been unmistakable. She had not been able to decipher or even recognize some of the splinters of consciousness, but the ugliness, the hatred of Silver had been clear. “Why does he hate you?”

“I've come close to catching him a couple times. He likes to think of himself as untouchable. It's important to his ego.”