PREDATORS RECOGNIZE each other. Watching Mr. Smythewhite now, I couldn’t understand how I’d missed his darker side when I first set eyes on him at the benefit ball.
Because his head turned left then right. Slowly. Carefully. He wasn’t checking for traffic—there was none on this side of town at this late hour. Instead, he was watching for observers, almost as if he could feel Slim’s and my gazes boring into his skin.
“Close your eyes,” I demanded.
My temporary partner wasn’t as quick on the uptake as Bastion would have been. “Huh?”
“Slim.” I reached out, half expecting to have to slap my hand over his face to make him obey me. “Now.”
Slim’s eyes flicked shut one second before I was forced to resort to drastic measures. I closed my own...then waited while questions without answers bounc
