Silent Weapon by Debra Webb Page A

my room. I couldn’t decide if he was yanking my chain because he could or if he felt it necessary to measure my reactions in the most unexpected situation. At least the most unexpected for me. I certainly hadn’t anticipated his climbing into bed with me.
    I shivered in spite of myself at the remembered feel of his weight. His chest had felt incredibly lean and hard. The man was definitely all muscle.
    He stepped in front of me just as I reached my door.
    Let’s review.
    I didn’t have to locate a clock and check the time to know it was nearly midnight. It had been well past ten o’clock when I dragged myself from the shower. Since I hadn’t managed any sleep last night, I could definitely use some tonight.
    “Can’t we do this in the morning?”
    I need to know that despite being tired you can still recall all that you need to.
    A part of me wondered if he got some sort of cheap thrill out of being in control, but that didn’t mesh with what I knew about his professional reputation. This guy was focused, relentless. He didn’t let anything stand in his way.
    “Let’s do it, then.”
    He led the way to the sanctuary, and without hesitation I recited the name that went with each face spread out on the table. It wasn’t that difficult. I’d spent four years as a schoolteacher. Part of my job had been learning new names and faces in a timely manner.
    Just as I was feeling pretty damned proud of myself he tossed new pictures, ones I hadn’t seen before, onto the table with the ease of a poker dealer laying down cards for a lone player. The faces and setting were different in each photograph. I frowned, wondering what each scene meant. Business meetings or social gatherings?
    Quickly. Barlow tapped the first photograph. Name the faces you recognize.
    Okay, okay. I popped off each name without hesitation. Then we moved on to the next one. It wasn’t until photo seven that I stumbled.
    Look again, he ordered.
    I recognized Luther Hammond and his two personal bodyguards…the child and the au pair, Cecilia. Surely this one was a social function. I hoped Hammond didn’t involve his daughter in his dirty business. Clearing the distraction from my head, I scanned the two faces I couldn’t seem to recognize. I closed my eyes a second to search my short-term memory banks. Nothing.
    “I don’t know this man,” I admitted. I tapped the second face. “That one, either.” I resisted the urge to flinch. I wasn’t sure which was worse, his disappointment or my own feeling of defeat. With more dread than I’d felt since this intensive-training session began, I lifted my gaze to his.
    Good.
    Surprise and irritation immediately replaced the dread and disappointment. His lips twitched, but to his credit he kept any hint of a smile off his face.
    You don’t know these two. Hammond had both of them killed about three months ago. He suspected this one —he pointed to the unfamiliar face standing closest to Hammond— of flipping on him.
    “What about this one?” I indicated the other stranger.
    Barlow held my gaze for a moment before he answered. Something in his eyes forewarned me that what he was about to tell me would be less than palatable. This one was his daughter’s godfather.
    Something deep inside me shifted as the words filtered through my soul. “Why did he kill him?” Had Hammond suspected that the two men were involved in a scheme to bring him down? That seemed the most likely scenario since he’d killed them at the same time.
    Hammond had him executed because he thought his daughter had grown too attached to him.
    I stared at the little girl in the picture and then the man holding her hand. How could anyone do that to someone their child cared about? I shuddered. What was I saying? How could he kill anyone period? How could a mere human take such liberties with human life?
    Barlow reached out and took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his. My breath caught in surprise…or something…at his