Page 15 of Fury

Chapter Six

Penelope tooka deep breath and tried to force her imagination under control. She'd sat silently through hours of Sawyer's retelling of the horrific event, even taking notes as he went along. All the while something dark and twisted took root inside her with each passing word.

She clenched and unclenched her fists as she looked out over the water. When he'd finally finished, they'd both needed some time to regroup and so far neither had made a move to rejoin the other.

What details he remembered were vivid and violent, and she'd never forget the way they made her feel. At one point, his descriptions became so real she would have sworn she felt the heat of the fire burning across her own skin.

What caused such a visceral reaction to a witness account befuddled her. Her ability to stay cool and calm in a crisis had always been the one trait she could count on no matter how dark things got. Very little got to her. But this—this anger she felt growing in the pit of her stomach confused her.

This man confused her.

One minute he made light of the situation and looked at her like he could either take her or leave her. Then his demeanor changed and he got intense. His breathing grew ragged and the haunted look in his eyes said he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than tell her a story.

The memory of that look heated her face once again as she gulped for air. She was being ridiculous. It didn't take her psych training to see the man had been as emotionally battered on the inside as he'd been burned on the outside. And it wasn't out of the realm of reasonability for her to be drawn to that.

She was a fixer after all. Drawn to complex problems, she loved nothing more than solving them.

And he needed to be fixed.

Penelope staggered back a few steps.

Whoa.

Those kind of thoughts were pure crazy. She was not here to put this beautiful, but broken man back together. She was here to profile a criminal. Nothing more.

She pushed back her thoughts of the man and his story and re-focused on the job. The elements of a psychotic killer were all here. He, and the fact her suspect was indeed a man was almost a given, had more than a passing knowledge of explosives. He also knew exactly where to place them for maximum effectiveness. Whatever wasn't damaged by the explosion, had eventually burned to the ground. Her gut told her that whatever his reasonings, he’d certainly accomplished his mission.

Except hardly anyone got hurt...

That brought her back to Sawyer. At one point in his story she wanted to reach out and touch him. The need to form a connection overwhelmed her as he seemed lost in what he thought was his failure to do his duty. That word fit what she sensed to a T. His connection to the people on this island felt like a hell of a lot more than just some job.

She toed at a pile of ash.

There was also a lot he wasn’t telling her. Hearing his account firsthand had her mind turning in every direction. But one thing still stood out. They clearly didn’t want her here. And if they didn’t want her to investigate then it stood to reason that they already knew exactly who perpetrated this devastation. That thought gave her pause. If her hunch was right, what did that mean? What exactly did they plan to do with that information if they weren’t going to report it to law enforcement? More specifically, what would Sawyer do with that knowledge?

"Are you okay?"

Speak of the devil. She took one last breath and turned to face him. And the need for a connection with him immediately returned. Although who was she kidding? It had never left. If she was smart, she'd leave now. She should get back in her car and return to Seattle with the information she had now. If her instincts about this island and its residents were true, it was all she would ever get. If she stayed, she suspected something else might happen. Something she absolutely did not bargain for.

But apparently in this case, she wasn't going to be smart. Instead of turning to leave she did the exact opposite.

"I could use a drink," she said.

A start of a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "I happen to know a place." He followed up with a wider grin and that hungry look from earlier in his eyes.

The big bad wolf was back and he looked like he wanted to eat her. That thought sent a shiver working down her spine. She couldn't get the comment he made about her panties out of her mind either. At least not when he looked at her like that.

She sighed. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t a breathless teenager hoping a boy would kiss her. She was a woman. A smile had no business making her panties damp and she certainly had no business thinking his juvenile comments were cute.

"I'm a little skeptical of this place you have in mind." Although she hadn’t been joking. She really could use a drink. But it would not be at his place and she had no interest in any kind of clubs he might frequent. That thought gave her pause, reminding her that she knew nothing about him except what he'd told her. She made a mental note to herself to look into that.

Someone like him probably had a very interesting story and maybe if she dug deep enough she’d find whatever she thought she was looking for. If nothing else, she was very good at research. She briefly glanced out at the water. There were a lot of unanswered questions.

"Don't look so worried, Agent Bishop. What I have in mind, I think you'll actually like. Nice and casual. Not crowded, but not deserted either. So you wont have to worry about me trying to take advantage."

He said the last with a wink, which caused her stomach to flip.

Oh, for Pete's sake. Her body was really starting to piss her off. She needed a distraction pronto.

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