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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 FBI urban legends about her suggested she could do.
    As far as he was concerned, she would come in, they would get all the insight from her that they could—if any—and then they would send her on her way. It shouldn’t take more than a day. His boss would be appeased, and he and Harrington could get on with real law enforcement work and catch Simon Says as soon as possible.
    And maybe, after Simon Says was apprehended, Conner would head back out to a certain horse ranch in Lodi and see Adrienne Jeffries again under very different circumstances.
    But until then, Adrienne—and her abilities—were just a distraction. Something to draw his focus away from what he knew needed to be done to catch the killer. Conner couldn’t allow that to happen. No matter how much he may want it to.
    Conner decided to get up and get