I am sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It is a bit of a transition chapter where I tried to explore Amy's and Pendergast's attraction. I hope this works
Amy threw her toiletries bag into her suitcase with a swear word and knelt on top of the bag in order to close it.
"Arrogant Son of a Bitch," she continued the litany under her breath, as she carried her bag to the hallway of her apartment. "Two hours", she grumbled. "Imperious, Bastard." And yet, she had gotten home and rushed to pack the bag so that she would be ready when the car came.
Amy did not mean to stop and look in the mirror. She did not mean to brush her hair and adjust her shirt, but she found herself doing it. Normally, she would have changed for a flight, opting for comfortable jeans and flats, but somehow, she could not bring herself to change out of her suit and high-heeled shoes when she knew she would be traveling with Pendergast. She did not want to look like a poor relation next to him and his expensive Italian suit.
Amy snorted and checked her watch. Two minutes to go. She actually managed to get ready and now can relax until...she heard the buzzer indicating that somebody downstairs was seeking entry. She checked the monitor and saw an elderly man in a dark suit. He must be the driver. She pushed the button to open the downstairs door and went to unlock the door to her apartment. A few moments later, there was a discrete knock on her door. She opened the door.
The man bowed slightly and in a cultured voice said, "Miss. I am Proctor. If you are ready, the car is downstairs."
"I am ready," Amy said and reached for her suitcase and purse. For an older man, this Proctor moved fairly quickly as he deftly managed to take the suitcase right out from under her grasping hand. He held the door open for Amy letting her precede him out and then waiting while she locked the door.
Amy was expecting the usual black sedan. What she saw literally took her breath away and she gaped for a moment before getting herself back under control.
"Good God," she breathed as she saw the large car. She only needed to see the Winged Lady hood ornament to know what she was looking it.
"It is a Silver Wraith." Amy started as she had not been prepared to hear the slightly mocking and yet cultured tones of Pendergast. He had leaned his head out of the window and was looking at Amy even as she stared at the car. Proctor had put her suitcase in the trunk and opened the door for her. Amy slid in, taking care to sit as far away from Pendergast as she could. Some part of her felt a minor tingle of triumph as she noted that Pendergast had not changed out of his suit.
"Agent Devereaux," Pendergast, acknowledged.
"Agent Pendergast," Amy replied as the car pulled away from the curve with a quiet purr of power that she felt more than heard.
Pendergast sat relaxed in the seat with his eyes closed. Amy did not know if he was sleeping, but it was clear that he did not want to talk so she contented herself with watching the scenery slip by as Proctor guided the car across the bridge and toward La Guardia Airport. She also watched the man. God, but he was handsome. His skin was pale, but not the white of an albino and his blond hair was so fair as to be almost silver. His coloring was made even starker by the complete blackness of his suit. His large, yet finely boned hands were lying quietly in his lap and Amy found herself wondering how they would feel against her bare skin...Amy jerked herself out of her reverie feeling a flush creep up her checks. She shook her head to clear it and went back to looking out of the window in an effort to hide her embarrassment.
And yet, she could not keep her eyes off Pendergast. Even as he sat there, motionless and completely relaxed, she saw the raw strength and power in his body. Like a coiled snake, she sensed a ruthlessness and a lethality in the man that was completely belied by his cultured and genteel demeanor. If she was entirely honest with herself, Pendergast scared her, and yet she found herself drawn to him as she had never been drawn to another man. As before, she quashed this line of thought; she was not one to wallow in pointless romanticism or yearn for those things that she could not have.
Amy was not paying attention and only realized with a shock that while they had reached the airport, Proctor was not taking any of the exits that would take him to the terminals. She bit her tongue so that she would not give Pendergast the satisfaction of her question. In another few minutes, Proctor stopped the car and Amy realized that they were parked in front of a Lear Jet and that its engines were already beginning to rev up.
Proctor opened the passenger door and Pendergast slipped out first before she even had the chance. Instead of walking away, however, he turned back to the open door and reached his hand in to help her out. This old fashioned and totally unexpected move, took her breath away. Without even thinking, she put her hand in his and let him help her out. She risked a glance at those pale blue eyes. What did she see in their depth? Amusement? Contempt? She tore her eyes away quickly, again feeling the warmth on her cheeks.
Proctor had the luggage and was loading it into the cargo hold and Amy followed Pendergast up the stairs and into the body of the plane. Still not speaking, Pendergast sat in one of the chairs and buckled the seatbelt. Amy thought it best to follow suit as the plane began to taxi.
Once airborne, a flight attendant quietly entered bringing a steaming cup on a tray for Pendergast. By the somewhat grassy, herbal smell, Amy guessed it to be green tea. The attendant turned to Amy and smiling asked her if she would like something to eat or drink. Amy just ordered a cup of coffee. Pendergast just looked out of the window sipping his tea.
Taking a deep breath, Amy pulled out her iPad and her files. "I have some thoughts on the victimology that may help identify how the killer or killers are picking the targets," she said hoping to start a conversation with Pendergast. Ever so slowly, the man turned his head and focused his eyes on her. Amy stifled her desire to look away and met his eyes.
"At this time, I think I would prefer to wait for some real information rather than engage in conjecture," Pendergast's voice was cold and made it very clear that he was not open to any further discussion on the topic. Not willing to show how much his response irritated her; Amy shrugged and bent her head over her tablet and notes while Pendergast studied the younger woman unobtrusively through half closed eyes.
He saw the graceful curve of her neck as she was leaning over her work. He saw that she was chewing her lip in her concentration. Some strands of dark hair had come loose from her knot and were curling along her cheeks. Pendergast's fingers literally itched to reach out and sweep the tendrils away. He wondered idly if her skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. As if realizing that somebody was looking at her, Amy looked up from her work, but all she saw was the back of Pendergast's head.
The plane landed Louis Armstrong International Airport after about three and a half hours of flight. Another Silver Wraith was waiting. Another older man, Pendergast said that his name was Maurice, loaded the suitcases into the trunk even as Pendergast handed Amy into the car.
A short drive brought them to the front gates of an old manor house - it was everything a New Orleans house should be complete with moss and Weeping Willows. "This is my home, Penumbra," Pendergast said in response to a questioning look from Amy. Amy, double checked that her mouth was shut so that she was not gaping like a yokel at the venerable old house.
Pendergast allowed Amy to precede him into the house. "Maurice will show you to your room. Please let him know if there is anything that you require." There was a definite tone of dismissal in his voice.
"Thank you," Amy said. "When would you like to start?"
"I will be starting immediately, Agent Devereaux," Pendergast replied calmly. "I will let you know if I require assistance."
"Pendergast!" The one word rang out like a shot causing the agent to stop and turn to look down at the woman who was gazing up at him with eyes blazing. He could not help notice that she was perhaps even lovelier with the color that had risen into her cheeks and what he could only describe as a dangerous glint in her emerald eyes.
"I understand that you do not like me very much, but you do not get to leave me behind. This investigation is as much mine as it yours." Her voice was calm, but her anger was apparent.
Amy took a deep breath. "We both know that I cannot make you do something you do not wish to do. I proposed a solution. I understand that you have no faith in my skills. Give me a chance to prove them. I will tell you some things about you - things that are not included in your, rather slim, dossier that the FBI has. If I am right, you buy me the fanciest dinner New Orleans has to offer and let me be your partner on this case. If I am wrong, I will be on the first commercial flight back to New York and will trouble you no longer.
Pendergast considered the offer. "And if I lie and say you are wrong when you are not?" He asked.
"You won't lie about this. Its not in your nature." Amy's voice carried complete and total certainty and she permitted a slight smile to cross her lips as she registered the slight widening of his eyes at her words. She knew she was right; her first attempt at profiling Pendergast had been successful.
Pendergast nodded. "Very well. I accept the terms." He settled into an arm chair and indicated that Amy should take the one across from him. "Shall we begin?"
Amy may be playing a dangerous game. What type of insights does she have about Pendergast and how will he react when faced with some truths about him? I hope you are enjoying this and that this still reads true. Would so very much appreciate your thoughts, recommendations and reviews. Thank you for taking the time.