Simon Says Die

list in her purse, then looked up, directly into Pierce Buchanan’s dark eyes.
    His Pontiac GTO was parked on the curb. He was leaning back against the door, his arms crossed and his long legs stretched out in front of him. For a moment it was as if the past few months had never happened. She remembered their first couple of dates in the Panhandle, when he was still helping her brother wrap up the loose ends of the case they’d solved together. After the third or fourth date, she’d decided not to see him anymore. Everything was too good, too perfect, which scared her. She’d gone her own way, but that had only lasted a few weeks.
    She’d missed him, was desperate to see him again. She’d gone to Jacksonville, and he’d welcomed her with open arms. They’d spent evenings going to the beach, or floating down the St. Johns River on a boat they rented for the day, watching barges go by on their way to the port.
    Everything had been so wonderful, until a jewelry store called while he was at work and left a message on the answering machine. The engagement ring he’d ordered was ready to be picked up. The walls had begun to close in on her. The thought of getting married again made her sick with fear, and she could barely catch her breath.
    When he came home, she’d told him a cruel lie, because she didn’t want him wasting his life hoping she’d change her mind and come back. She’d told him the one thing that she knew would make him let her go: “I don’t love you. I’m ready to move on.”
    Madison ruthlessly pushed the past out of her mind. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
    He straightened and opened the passenger door. “That was the last place on your list, right? Let’s grab a late lunch, my treat.”
    She put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, that’s the last place on my list?”
    â€œYou mark a name off that piece of paper every time you come out of a building. It looked like this bed-and-breakfast was at the bottom of the piece of paper, so I thought you were done for the day.”
    â€œWhat list?” she repeated. Had he actually followed her today, and she hadn’t known? That thought had her both irritated and alarmed. If he could follow her so easily, who else could? She glanced around, rubbing the arms of her coat as she searched for a familiar silhouette in the shadows.
    Damon.
    â€œThe list you shoved into your purse,” Pierce answered.
    She looked back at him and crossed her arms. “You’ve been following me all day?”
    â€œTechnically, no. Another agent followed you until I could wrap up a few loose ends. Then I followed you.”
    Her face flushed, and she whirled around. She strode past his open car door and headed down the sidewalk.
    â€œCoward.” His insult echoed up the block.
    She stiffened but kept walking.
    The sound of a powerful engine revving up spurred her to walk faster. Pierce’s GTO whipped into a parking spot on the curb ahead. As he got out of his car, she hurried around the corner onto Congress Street.
    She heard his footsteps right before his arm clamped around her shoulders. He pulled her to a halt, facing the building in front of them.
    â€œMolly MacPherson’s Scottish Pub and Grill.” He read the sign over the door. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll work. Let’s get a beer, Mads.” He anchored her against his side, in spite of her attempts to pull away.
    She raised her elbow, bluffing, because she would never really hit him in his bruised ribs.
    He grabbed her arm. “Do it, and I’ll have you locked up for assaulting a federal officer. Don’t think I won’t.”
    She tried to twist away, irritated that he’d believed her bluff so easily. This time he let her go.
    â€œThis is twice you’ve kidnapped me. Isn’t that a felony or something?”
    His face tightened into angry lines. “You and I are going to talk. We can do it here, or at the police station. I’m sure I can convince Lieutenant Hamilton to arrest you for something.” He cocked a brow. “Like carrying a concealed weapon without a permit.”
    Madison sucked in a breath and moved her purse to her other side, away from him.
    The hostess approached them and asked about their seating preference.
    Madison tamped down her irritation and smiled. “A booth please.”
    â€œAway from