“Sarah? You all right out there?” Damon called anxiously. Even with the silencer, he couldn’t fail to hear the telltale whine of bullets.
“Yes.” She was disgusted with herself. She could hear the motor of the car roar to life, the wheels spinning in dirt for a moment before they caught and the vehicle raced away down the coastal highway. “I’m sorry, Damon, I let them get away.”
“You’re sorry! You could have been killed, Sarah. And no, I didn’t call the sheriff. I was hoping they were neighborhood kids looking to do a prank.”
“And I took you for such a brilliant man, too,” she teased, sitting up and pulling twigs out of her hair. She touched her stinging ear, came away with blood on her fingers. It was her favorite earring, too.
The drapes rustled and Damon poked his head out the window. “Are we going to call back and forth or are you going
Magic in the Wind 27
to come in here and talk with me.” There was more demand than question in his voice.
Sarah laughed softly. “Do you think that’s such a good idea? Can you imagine what Inez would say if she knew I was visiting you in the middle of the night?” She reached for the rifle, taking care to pick it up using a handkerchief. “She’d ask you your intentions. You’d have to deny you had any. The word would spread that you’d ruined me and I’d be pitied. I couldn’t take that. It’s better if I just slink home quietly.”
Damon leaned farther out the window. “Damn it, Sarah, I’m not amused. You could have been killed. Do you even understand that? These men were dangerous and you’re out taking a little stroll in the moonlight and playing neighborhood cop.” His voice was harsher than he intended, but she’d scared the hell out of him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling sick at the thought of her in danger.
“I wasn’t in any danger, Damon,” Sarah assured him. “This rifle, in case you’re interested, has tranqs in it, not bullets. At least they weren’t trying to kill you, they wanted you alive.”
He sighed. She was just sitting there on the ground with the sliver of moonlight spilling over her. The rifle was lying across her knees and she was smiling at him. Sarah’s smile was enough to stop a man’s heart. Damon took a good look at her clothes, at the gun still in her hand. He stiffened, swore softly. “Damn you anyway, Drake. I should have known you were too good to be true!”
“Were you believing all the stories about me, after all, Damon?” she asked. But dread was beginning even though it shouldn’t matter what he thought of her. Or what he knew. She had a job. It shouldn’t matter, yet she felt the weight in her chest, heavy like a stone. She felt a sudden fear crawling in her stomach of losing somethin