Primal Instinct. Janie Crouch
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polite and charming. All the college girls were sighing over him and his good looks. You came out of the house, glanced at him for five seconds, and asked him to leave and never come back.”
Adrienne remembered very clearly the appearance of the young man, probably twenty or twenty-one years old. Like Vince said, he had blond hair, blue eyes— all-American good looks. Seemed amiable and charismatic, at least on the outside.
But the thoughts in his mind were utterly sinister. A malevolence that only Adrienne could pick up on had permeated the air around the young man. The things he thought of doing to the female students who had worked at Adrienne’s ranch—to Adrienne herself, once he had seen her—made Adrienne’s stomach churn. She had immediately made him leave, much to the girls’ dismay, telling him there were no more internships available.
Then had promptly gone back inside and vomited the entire contents of her stomach.
The next day Adrienne had gone into town to check with the sheriff’s office to see if there were any warrants out for the man or any reported attacks on women in the area. There were none. Adrienne decided to leave it alone—after all, she had no idea if he would ever act on any of those evil instincts floating around in his brain. Perhaps not. But either way she did not want him around her ranch or the young people she had working there. Thankfully they never saw him again.
Adrienne looked at Vince. “Yeah. I remember him.”
“I don’t know why you sent him away. I don’t know why you made him—a good, clean-cut-looking kid—leave when you had hired some of the roughest-looking tattooed hoodlums multiple times. Hell, I’d seen you make jobs for people when we didn’t need another soul.”
“He just wasn’t a good fit for our ranch.”
“It’s your ranch, and you can certainly hire or not hire anyone you see fit. But you not even giving that kid a chance—that kind of caught my attention.”
Vince stood and walked his plate over to the sink, then continued. “I watched you after that when you were around people—especially new folk. It took a while, but I realized you have a sort of insight into people that most don’t have.”
Adrienne sat in silence as Vince rinsed his plate off, then turned to look at her. “It’s probably more than just an insight if the FBI wants your help.”
“A little. Especially when it comes to anyone who has some sort of sinister intent. I can kind of hear their thoughts.” Adrienne was worried that she may be freaking Vince out, but he seemed to take it all in stride.
“Hmm. And you helped the FBI before?”
“Yes.”
“You must have been pretty young.”
“Barely eighteen.”
Vince’s eyes narrowed at that. “Hmm. And working with them wasn’t a pleasant experience?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
Vince nodded. “But you’re going back to work for them?”
Adrienne looked away; she didn’t want Vince to know he was the reason she was returning to work for the FBI. “Yeah.”
“Even though you don’t want to.” It wasn’t a question.
“Pretty much.”
“And you told them you’re not interested in helping?”
“I tried.”
“But they didn’t listen?”
“Evidently they need my help in a pretty big way. ‘No’ wasn’t a possibility for an answer.”
“Seems to me, living in this free country of ours, no is always a possibility in a situation like this.”
Adrienne finished her sandwich and brought her plate to the sink so she wouldn’t have to look at Vince. “Well, let’s just say they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
There was silence for long moments, and Adrienne made the mistake of looking over at the older man.
“If I told you,” Vince began with a grimace, “I had missed my last few meetings with my parole officer after I left prison, and that there’s a warrant out for my arrest, would this be new information to you?”
Adrienne looked back down at the plate she was washing. “I already told you, Vince. I don’t care what happened in the past. I just know I can trust you now,” she sidestepped.
Vince nodded. “But that’s not what I asked you.”
Adrienne sighed. “No, that info isn’t new to me.”
“Did you know this before today?”
Adrienne turned and looked the older man in the eye. “No. Agents Perigo and Harrington told me.”
“And that’s how they’re getting you to come back, right? By using me?”
“Vince...” Adrienne reached toward him but he leaned back in his chair away from her.
“I won’t let you do it, you understand? I’m not going to let you be forced into something because of me!”
“Vince, it’s all right. I’m going to do this one thing for them, and that will be the end of it. And before I do, I’ll get their assurance that the warrant for you will be canceled or whatever. I promise. It’s not a big deal.”
“I still don’t like this,” Vince muttered.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to be fine. Maybe I’ll find that the FBI has become a little better at playing with others in the past ten years.”
Vince took a sip of his drink and sat back in the chair. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
Chapter Four
Hours later Conner lay sprawled in his bed looking up at the ceiling. After leaving Adrienne Jeffries’s house, he had been pretty much useless for the rest of the day. They had gone back to the office for a couple of hours, briefly reporting to Chief Kelly about their success with getting Adrienne’s agreement to help. Seth, well aware of Conner’s black mood, had talked Conner out of questioning the chief about Adrienne’s history with the FBI.
There were so many things about Adrienne Jeffries’s history that didn’t add up that Conner didn’t know where to even begin his questioning. Definitely better to leave his questions until he was in a better—or at least more respectful—frame of mind. Maybe he would just talk to her and leave the chief out of it altogether. Less chance of Conner getting fired that way.
Adrienne definitely had not been what he was expecting. For one, her age. Certainly not the middle-aged woman he had been anticipating. But that wasn’t even what caught him off guard so much. Conner ran his hands through his hair, staring up at the ceiling from his bed. He had never had such an instant reaction to a woman before. Adrienne Jeffries had affected him on every level.
She was five feet four of pure dynamite, it seemed. Conner normally preferred taller, more athletically built women—and with long blond hair. Adrienne Jeffries was slender, but short, and her hair definitely wasn’t long and blond. Rather pixie-short and brown, with little chunks of copper in it. But Conner found his fingers itching to run through it.
He knew his behavior earlier today had been unprofessional and may have seemed borderline psychotic to Adrienne. Harrington had let Conner have it more than once on their way back to San Francisco from Lodi. Conner knew, whatever he was feeling, he had to get it under control before he saw her again in just a few short hours.
No matter what confusion Conner may have over his attraction to Adrienne, he had no confusion over his feelings about her so-called “abilities.” Obviously years ago she had somehow convinced the Bureau she could track criminals like some supersleuth. Conner had no reason to believe she could do all that the