He gave a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Pity.”
She glanced over his clothing. “You’re awfully dressed up for being in the woods.”
“I’m here on business.”
“What kind of business? Are you a detective?”
She was a pushy little thing. “My business doesn’t concern you.”
“Are you a reporter?”
Relentless.
“Who I am is of no consequence to you.”
“Did the DA send you? If so, I’d like to get an interview.” Turning toward her van, she yelled for her cameraman. “Todd, we need the camera again.”
He sighed. “That won’t be necessary.”
She flipped open a compact mirror and checked her teeth. “The public has a right to know if there have been any leads in the case.”
“I’m sure that’s your first concern.”
She bristled. “Hey, I’m just doing my job.”
“And what job is that exactly? Tell me, Destiny Santos, how does chasing down two orphaned children in the middle of their mother’s funeral fall under any noble job description?”
Her posture grew defensive. “You’re talking about the Foster children, Dane and Cybil? They were eyewitnesses. They could have seen something to help catch this guy.”
“They’re children. Children who lost both parents. Children who were standing over turned-up dirt that hadn’t even buried their dead mother yet, and you thought nothing of shoving a microphone into their faces. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
She at least had the decency to flush. “I don’t make the rules. The network does.”
“Then work for a better network. Or are they paying you enough to buy your self-respect?”
“Fuck you, mister.” When her temper spiked, she spoke with her whole body. “I live around here. The people of this community deserve to know what’s out there. I’m doing my part.”
So were her hips. “Which part is that, stirring pandemonium or harassing orphans?”
“I don’t need to stand here and listen to this shit.”
As she stormed back to the van, he grinned at the full-figured view. Then, realizing his mistake, he winced.
“Wait!” He jogged after her. “I need to know where the children live.”
“I’m not helping—”
Before he got distracted by her hot-blooded temper again, he gave her a mental push and a hard order. “Give me an address.”
Her eyes glazed. “Clara Barnes. Twenty-two Fors—” She made a face as if tasting something bitter. Then, shaking her head, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I missed what you asked.”
He somehow released her mind a second too soon. He made a mental reach for her mind again, but she stepped back as if she were physically avoiding his grasp.
He reached again, but, for some reason, he couldn’t get ahold of her mind. He had no choice but to fish for the information. “I need Clara Barnes’s address.”
“What? I can’t tell you that.”
“Yes, you can.” It wasn’t like she was a woman of great scruples.
“Why are you here?”
No longer amused, his jaw ticked. “Tell me where she lives.”
She laughed in his face. “Um, no.”
Locking his molars, he shoved hard at her mind but hit a wall. “How are you doing that?” Thunder rolled in the distance.
“Doing what? Look, I’ve been following this case since last year and this is the first I’ve seen you around.” Her eyes narrowed and she withdrew a phone. “Actually…” She snapped his picture.
“Hey! You can’t take my photograph?”
“Why?” she asked, her tone ripe with attitude. “Are you Amish?”
As a matter of fact… No, that would only complicate matters.
He opted for the fastest solution and snatched her phone.
“Hey! Give me my phone, asshole!”
The feisty little strumpet jumped for her device, but he held it out of reach. “Give me Clara’s address!”
“I don’t share my notes with assholes.”
This unexpected aggressive side of her intrigued him, but he was determined to dislike her on principle. He laughed as she strained for her phone, her body practically climbing up his until she grabbed it.
She yanked it out of his hand and scowled at him. “I should have you arrested.” She inspected her phone as if it were the most precious thing she owned. Walking away, she glared over her shoulder and yelled, “I’ll be sure to send your picture to the cops, prick.”
He cursed. This had gone the opposite of what he had planned. He once again jogged after her. “Destiny, wait, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Can we please start again?”
“Bite me.”
“Gladly.” He stilled the second the word left his mouth. Gladly? Where the hell had that come from?
The van door slammed shut and the engine started.
“Wait!” He was too late. The van took off, leaving him in a cloud of dust.
Chapter 17
Eleazar held Larissa’s sleeping body until the blue sky faded to dim shades of red and orange as dusk approached. She appeared to sleep soundly for once, and he hated to disturb her, but they had a long journey ahead and much to discuss.
Gently, he dragged a knuckle across her cheek. “Little mouse, you must wake.”