Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

laughs. He’s thinner, but he came back without any more scars, if that’s what you mean. Are you ever going to forgive him for saving your life?” Dahlia asked bluntly.

    There was a small silence. Flame could hear her heart beating hard. She swallowed a sudden lump. “I have to forgive Lily if I forgive him.” She closed her eyes.

    “I don’t know if I can do that.” She stood up slowly, dragging herself up by using the wall. “I think I can actually go sit in a chair now.”

    Dahlia stayed behind her in case she was too weak after her bout of sickness to make it into her room without falling.

    Flame was surprisingly steady once she got under way. “Once my nightly bout of sickness is over, whether it lasts an hour or six hours, I feel fine again. I usually walk on the treadmill and try to get in a little exercise before the morning bout starts. I don’t seem to be able to sleep much anymore.” She paused for a moment to survey her room. There were no lights on, just dozens of aromatic candles. “Nonny’s been here. She’s so sweet to me.”

    Dahlia waited until Flame curled up in a chair, drawing her feet up under her and taking another sip of water. “One of your best and worst traits is your stubbornness, Flame. I think it’s saved your life, that determination and courage you have, the ability to dig in and go for something no matter what, but it also keeps you from admitting that you can be wrong.”

    A faint smile touched Flame’s mouth. “You think that’s why? That I don’t want to admit that I’m wrong? I wish it was that simple.” She sighed and leaned back, resting her head against the soft back of the chair, all too aware of her bald head. She was vain enough that she didn’t want anyone seeing her that way, not even Dahlia. “I don’t trust Lily. She has that same mind. The need for answers outweighs moral issues.”

    Dahlia shook her head. “You’re wrong. She has that same brilliancy, yes. You have it too, but she knows where to draw the line. Why are you so determined to be she’s in league with Peter Whitney?”

    “He has to have an informer.”

    Dahlia snorted. “That’s idiotic and you, of all people, know it. You know exactly how he’s getting his information.”

    “The computers,” Flame conceded. “They were all his. Every computer in his lab at home, here at the compound, and just about every company he owned. He had access to them all and wrote many of the programs. The notes and data Lily are using belonged to him. He has a back door in to all of it.”

    “Of course he does. And he knows she needs the information to help us all. She can’t get rid of him. Arly’s searching, but even if he finds one worm, he’ll never find them all. So why do you need to see her as in league with Peter Whitney?”

    Flame shook her head, her mind slamming the door dosed on her childhood memories.
    She couldn’t, wouldn’t face that recollection ever again. “I can’t tell you. I just can’t, Dahlia.”

    Dahlia looked up, her gaze sharp and penetrating. “It’s ill right, hon, don’t worry about it. I’m going to let you have a few minutes alone because we both know as soon is Gator is finished with debriefing, he’ll come straight here.”

    Flame looked alarmed. “No! He can’t see me like this. I won’t let him see me like this.”

    “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

    Flame leapt up and rushed to yank open a drawer. “Nonny brought me these caps just in case.” She grabbed a dark navy knitted cap and pulled it over her head, glancing in the mirror and then looking quickly away. “Keep him out of here.”

    “No one can keep Gator out of here, not even you Flame. He’s coming to see you whether you like it or not Whether you talk to him or not.” Dahlia walked to the door.
    “You’re going to have to deal with him sooner or later.”

    The moment the door closed behind Dahlia, Flame blew out three of the eight candles lighting the room. She couldn’t stop her wayward heart from pounding with anticipation, or the adrenaline from rushing through he body. She did her best, washed her face, brushed her teeth, tried makeup and removed it just as fast. She stood staring at her image. There was nothing she could do to look like the woman he would be expecting.

    She spun around when she heard the door open. Raoul entered, pushing a motorcycle.
    Not just any motorcycle, but her motorcycle. She wanted to look at her