Wildest Hearts

ceiling, but there was a delicate blush on her cheeks.

    “Feel free to check out whatever you like,” Jonathan said seriously to Oliver. “I'll have my accountant forward some copies of my recent income tax forms if that will be of any help.”

    “Thank you,” Oliver said. “That will be very useful.”

    Sybil glowered at him. “I'm warning you, Oliver. Don't you dare embarrass me.”

    “I wouldn't think of it, Sybil.” Oliver turned to Annie. “Are you ready to go?”

    Annie looked at him in surprise. “Are we leaving already?”

    “Yes.”

    Annie started to argue, but something in Oliver's expression stopped her. She turned to Valerie. “Well, in that case, congratulations again, Valerie.”

    “Thank you,” Valerie said softly. She stepped forward and gave Annie a brief, affectionate hug. “For everything.”

    Annie smiled, embarrassed, and said her farewells to the rest of the Rains. Oliver took her arm and started toward the door. As usual, a path magically appeared.

    Bolt was waiting at the curb with the limo. He got out from behind the wheel to open the door.

    “Why are we in a hurry?” Annie demanded as Oliver stuffed her neatly into the back of the car. “I was enjoying myself.”

    “Sorry, we're on a schedule,” he told her as he got in beside her.

    “Whose schedule? What schedule?” Annie tried to read his face in the shadows as Bolt eased the limo away from the curb.

    “I have a business appointment this evening.” Oliver glanced at the glowing face of the limo's digital clock. “I'm going to take you home, and then Bolt will drive me to the meeting. I should be back within a couple of hours.”

    “You never said anything about an evening appointment. You never have evening meetings. What are you up to, Oliver?”

    “It's nothing that concerns you, Annie.”

    “Which means it most definitely does concern me. I'm warning you, Oliver, if you don't tell me what's going on, I'll follow you to this so-called appointment of yours.”

    He looked startled by the threat. “No, Annie, you will not follow me.”

    “Tell me where you're going.”

    “I'd rather not.”

    “Wait a second, this has something to do with what's been happening, doesn't it?”

    Oliver hesitated. “In a way. It involves Barry Cork.”

    “What about him?” she asked quickly. “He's still unconscious, isn't he?”

    “As far as we know.” Oliver studied her for a moment, as if deliberating how much to tell her. “Bolt and I are going to take a look around his house this evening. It shouldn't take long.”

    “Why?” Annie demanded. “What do you think you'll find?”

    “I don't know.”

    “I'll come with you.”

    “No, Annie.”

    “Yes.”

    He smiled faintly in the shadows. “No.”

    Forty-five minutes later Bolt did something to the lock on the back door of Cork's small house. The door opened without a sound. “Didn't think you'd be able to convince Mrs. Rain to stay home, sir.”

    “Mrs. Rain is smart enough to know when she's lost an argument.” Oliver glanced back over his shoulder, assuring himself that the tiny backyard was empty.

    The last thing they needed now was a barking dog or a nosy neighbor. But there was no sign of either. The north-end Seattle neighborhood was quiet, almost deserted.

    He and Bolt had switched from the limo to the Mercedes when they had taken Annie home in hopes of not drawing any attention to themselves out here in the suburbs.

    Oliver went through the door and found himself in pitch darkness. The drapes were closed.

    “No offense, sir, but I was surprised when she gave up so easily.” Bolt followed Oliver through the door.

    “I made it easy for her when I told her that if she insisted on coming along, I would cancel the whole project.”

    Annie had fumed, but she had finally surrendered to the threat. Oliver wasn't about to admit to Bolt that he was privately surprised and vastly relieved by the relatively easy victory. He probably ought to put his foot down more often with Annie, he decided.

    The trouble with Annie, Oliver thought as he took out a small flashlight, was that he let her get away with murder far too frequently. Right from the beginning she had taken the initiative in their relationship. She had dictated the terms of their marriage and then she had gone on to try to dictate his whole life. She'd even issued edicts in the bedroom.

    She meant well, but the bottom line was that she now thought she could talk