Rebel Without A Clue

by Carolyn Scott

  "Morning," I said chirpily. "Sorry, I'm late. I would have got here half an hour ago but there was an accident—"

  "Save it," he growled.

  Not a good start. "Something wrong with my computer?" Damn it, I was determined to get a civil word out of him.

  "Yeah, you're not using it." He raised his eyes to me but kept his head lowered so the whole effect was devilish. If he'd added a come-hither smile, I'd have given him a lap dance in a heartbeat.

  But he didn't, so obviously humping the boss hadn't improved my status around the office.

  I moved behind him and glanced over his shoulder at the screen. He was scrolling through records in our client database. "If the computers were networked, you could look up the database from your own PC. You wouldn't have to walk all the way down here."

  "If you got to work on time, I wouldn't have to walk all the way down here, I could call."

  Or yell. That's what he usually did. "Gina's a lousy alarm clock, all right?" I sounded snappy but hey, I expected something a little friendlier from the guy I just bonked.

  "Now that you're here, I need a print out of the work we did last month for Waterstone," he said.

  "Sure. It'll take two seconds."

  "Really?" He looked surprised. "I must have been looking in the wrong section."

  I shooed him out of the way and took over the mouse. Three clicks later and the report printed out. "So why does he want this information?"

  "He's contesting last month's bill."

  "What? Why? You spent a lot of time with him last month because that's what he wanted. Are you telling me he doesn't want to pay for it now?"

  "That's what I'm telling you."

  I shook my head in disbelief. "I told you, Waterstone is more trouble than he's worth. Surely there's other cases we could take on." Maybe I should tell him I planned to keep Roberta as a client. If he didn't want Knight Investigations to take her case, then I could do it in my spare time. I'd do it during company time behind his back, but I wanted to give him the chance to accept it first. "If you take—"

  "We'll talk work later," he said. "In my office." Then he winked. I almost fell over in shock. He still sat in my swivel chair, his back to Carl's office. I assumed Carl was inside but so far there'd been no sign of him.

  "Right," I said, not sure what to make of his playful wink. Will's sudden mood swings were harder to predict than mine during that time of the month. "Well, here's the report."

  "Not now," he whispered.

  "But it's ready now," I whispered back.

  "Bring it to my office in a few minutes." Another wink. Okay, so he wanted a bit of hanky panky on his desk. Cool.

  "Sure thing, Boss."

  He disappeared into his office and Carl emerged from his. "Hey, Cat. You in trouble again?"

  "Kinda, but I think I got out of it this time." I waved the report. "It helps to be the only one who can handle the dinosaur database."

  He nodded but didn't look interested. "So how's your case coming along? Will told me your apartment burned down and that he felt sorry for you so he gave you your job back."

  So my re-employment had been a pity offering. Worked for me.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  I nodded. "A bit freaked out but otherwise unscathed."

  "Do you think the fire had anything to do with Roberta's jewelry?"

  "I have no idea why my apartment is now decorated in the shade of ash. It's possibly linked to whoever followed me around on Saturday."

  "Followed you? To where? Jeez, Cat, this is getting serious."

  I shrugged but didn't feel so confident on the inside.

  "So did you find the jewelry?"

  I hadn't even told Roberta so I felt like I couldn't tell Carl. Besides, he would most likely blab to Will if he asked in the right way, which went something along the lines of "Tell me what Cat's up to or you're fired." Not that I blamed Carl. He just couldn't lie like a professional.

  I waved the report at him. "The boss wants this ASAP." I practically skipped up the hallway and entered Will's office without knocking, something I never did when the door was closed. "Special delivery," I sang.

  His boyish grin made up for the grumpy welcome earlier. "Close the door." I did. "And bring that gorgeous ass over here."

  I threw the report on his desk and straddled him where he sat. The chair swiveled to the side under the extra weight but held. Will rubbed his palms up my thighs to my butt and breathed deeply.

  "You smell good," he said. "Not as smoky."

  We kissed and I swear the heat in his office rose a couple degrees. I started to undo my shirt to cool down. Will helped. Hurriedly.

  He drew his arm down in an arc to clear his desk but before he could send stationary flying, his office door opened. I leapt up, bumped my knee and fell to the floor. Will took my hand and pulled me up so fast I almost propelled straight past him.

  Regaining my equilibrium, I looked up at Will and waited for him to make excuses. But he just eyeballed me, then looked down at my shirt. He did it several times until I realized it was still undone. I quickly did up the buttons then swung into action.

  "Hey, Carl, what's happening?" I cringed on the inside. I sounded like an amateur.

  Carl stood by the door, his big blue eyes as wide as dishes. "What's going on?"

  "Um," Will said. "Well… Ah…" Good grief. He couldn't lie his way out of jury duty.

  "Nothing," I said. "We were just looking over Waterstone's bill." I grabbed the nearest set of papers from Will's desk and waved them at Carl. "Can you remember how many hours you worked on his account last month?"

  "I'll get my timesheet." Carl left and Will and I breathed a collective sigh.

  "That was too close," he said. "No more sex in the office."

  "Damn. I didn't even get to do it once. What about kissing?"

  "No. No kissing, canoodling, cuddling or groping. Unless we're alone and you bend over in front of me again."

  I thumped him lightly on the shoulder. "So I take it we don't want Carl to know about…" I didn't want to say "us". It felt too intimate, like we were a couple. We both knew we weren't at that phase yet.

  He nodded. "It would make working around here awkward. I don't want him to feel like the odd one out."

  "I am not having a threesome with Carl just so he feels like he belongs."

  Will laughed and kissed me lightly on the top of my head. I decided it wasn't a good time to discuss why he'd lied about being with Tanya on Saturday night. I guess technically it was none of my business, but I still planned on extracting a confession. A girl needs to know if she has a rival.

  I left and passed Carl in the hallway, carrying his timesheets. I settled into my chair and considered my predicament. Not my sexual predicament, which I was kind of enjoying. I mean, sneaking around could be fun. No, I was thinking about my professional predicament. I wanted to keep Roberta as a client, but more importantly, I wanted her to be my client. If only I could find a way to break the news to Will.

  Or, even better, not break the news and keep investigating without his knowledge.

  The front door opened and I looked up at the tall man sauntering through. Christ. As if my day wasn't weird enough.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Chapter 10

  Scarface's lopsided grin sent my heart flip-flopping. Christ, what was going on with my hormones lately? Alarmed by my reaction, I shooed him outside before anyone saw him.

  "I've gotta go see Gina for a minute," I called out to Will and Carl before closing the door. I hustled Scarface across the road to Trendz Cafe. We sat at the back, away from the window.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked him.

  "You don't have to whisper, Cat. He can't hear you."

  His know-it-all grin irritated the shit out of me but at the same time turned me on. How is that even possible?

  "So why did you want me out of there so fast?" he asked. I got the feeling he knew the answer and was deliberately
avoiding my question.

  "Last time you and Will met I had to duck for cover. I didn't want to do that again until I at least know why."

  "So it's not because I got you into trouble with your boss?"

  "I'm not in trouble with Will." Not right this second, anyway. "So, are you going to answer my question? What are you doing here?"

  He sat very still and looked at me with his one good eye. I was close enough to really look at his scar. It had freaked me out at first, but it didn't seem so gruesome anymore. It must have been painful when it had happened, and losing sight in the eye would have been life shattering. But to me, it was just a part of Scarface. Actually the scar suited him. It gave him that mysterious and sinister quality directors look for when casting bad guys in action movies. I always preferred the bad guys.

  "See anything you like?"

  I flushed to my roots. "Sorry."

  He shrugged wide shoulders. "People like to look. It gets the curiosity out of their system."

  I was such a goddamn idiot sometimes. I shouldn't have stared until his attention was focused elsewhere. "So, you've avoided my question a second time. There a reason for that?"

  "I'm not avoiding it. I came to see you." He slouched in his chair and studied me. "I heard about your apartment and got worried. I wanted to talk to you but you gave a false address so I had to come here."

  "I didn't give a false address. I just decided to stay at a friend's place instead of my mother's."

  "This friend…is he a close friend?"

  "She is my best friend, Gina. And if you wanted to know if I had a boyfriend, you could have just asked."

  There was that smile again. "Cat, do you have a boyfriend?"

  "No." I'd already thought through my answer so I didn't hesitate. Technically, Will wasn't my boyfriend. He didn't even want Carl to know about us. And beyond the mind-blowing sex, we didn't have much to base a proper relationship on. I was only twenty-eight. Despite what my mother thought, I wasn't ready to settle down. Besides, Will was seven years older than me. A totally inappropriate age gap, really. Huge. Then there was the fact that he was my boss. My very cranky boss.

  Our coffees arrived, breaking the awkwardness that had suddenly blanketed our corner of the café. Scarface produced a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out and tapped it on the table, unlit. We'd both ordered strong black coffees. Scarface didn't sugar his. He probably drank his coffee that way all the time. I, on the other hand, wanted to get rid of my nagging hangover, but I hated black coffee so I added four cubes of sugar to kill the taste. I sipped it and made a face. Too sweet, but the instant caffeine injection hit the spot.

  "What did they tell you about the fire?" he asked.

  "That it started in my bedroom, and it was suspicious."

  He nodded, tapping his cigarette. "That's why I'm now involved."

  "I had wondered."

  "Actually, Stankovic is involved, but I insisted on this chat. His interrogation technique has a way of working against him sometimes."

  "No kidding. I wouldn't tell him anything if my life depended on it." Which it probably did.

  "When the arson squad filed their report, your name came up in the database associated with the Scarletti murder. They contacted Stankovic and myself. So here I am." He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. His gaze softened as he looked into my eyes. "So," his voice hummed across my skin, "talk to me, Cat."

  Wow, he was good. He made me feel like everything would be okay if I told him what he wanted to know. I really wanted to unburden myself, but if I told him about the box, the key and the paper, they could become evidence in Lou's murder, and I didn't want to lose my only clue to finding the jewelry. Not yet. A few more days and then I'd hand it all over. Besides, the jewels probably had nothing to do with Lou's murder. How could they? They were Roberta's and I didn't see her as the murderer.

  They say the best lies are borne from truth, so I tried to weave as much of it as possible into my story. "As you know, I was doing some surveillance on Lou for his wife."

  He nodded.

  "Well, she still wants me to follow up a few loose ends, so I was doing some investigating on Saturday. Asking some questions about his whereabouts, that sort of thing. Then I noticed a car following me."

  That got his attention. Scarface's eyebrows rose. "Describe it."

  "Dark. Sedan. Hard to tell. The weather was terrible. I lost it about a block from home so I thought nothing more of it. That night, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up in a barbecue."

  "Did you hear a noise? Someone trying to break in?"

  "No."

  "Any thoughts on who would want to kill you and why?"

  A sliver of fear rushed down my spine. "None. And I'm not sure they want me dead. Why set my place on fire? Why not just climb in and stab me or shoot me where I slept?"

  He rubbed his hand over his stubble. "I don't know."

  We sat in silence with that thought hanging between us. I'd already wondered about that question over and over and come up with zip. It just didn't make sense.

  "Try to keep away from your mother's," he said. "If they figured out where you live, they can probably figure out who your relatives are, or at least narrow it down. Stay with your friend."

  "And work?"

  "Not so easy to trace." He thought for a moment. "Does Knight Investigations have a website with your name appearing anywhere?"

  "No."

  He rolled his eyes. "Knight really needs to move into the twenty-first century."

  "What, and skip the twentieth?"

  Scarface laughed. "Cat, seriously. I can't see any other way they can find out where you work."

  Relief made me feel weak and a little silly. I guess that explained why I asked my next question. "So, you and Will. What's the story there?"

  He focused on his cigarette, his usually relaxed, fluid body now rigid and completely still. I held my breath, afraid I'd crossed the line and severed any connection between us before having a chance to explore it further.

  "We used to work together," he said.

  "I know that much." I kept my voice light to encourage him. "Come on, tell me. You know what they say about curiosity and the cat."

  He locked eyes with me. He might have only one but, boy, he used it effectively. It felt like he saw right into me. Another little shiver ran along my spine, but it wasn't unpleasant.

  "So what do I get in return?" he asked.

  Oh boy. "We'll work out payment later."

  "You bet we will."

  What the hell was I doing? Playing with two men at once was bad, bad, bad. And definitely not something I'd done before. I just hoped I didn't get caught out. Something told me neither man liked to share.

  "Several years ago," he said, "we were both rookies on the force, working the beat. We'd known each other in the academy. We weren't friends but there was a sort of camaraderie between us. We were too competitive to be anything more. We spurred each other on to be better. I'd be top of the class in one exercise, then next week, he would be. We both graduated with top honors.

  "After that, we were assigned to different jurisdictions and our paths didn't cross again until I got transferred over this side. Our precincts were adjacent to each other. One night, ten years ago, my partner and I heard the call go out for a fatal shooting near the border of both jurisdictions. We decided to check it out, even though technically it wasn't our area. Knight was already there. He'd made detective a couple months earlier.

  "It started out easy enough. Looked like a domestic—wife killed her husband after he'd beaten up on her. Knight's team had already secured the site. Or so we all thought.

  "Funny thing about domestics. They have a habit of turning nasty when you think they're cut and dried. Out of the blue, there's another gunman. Turns out he was the boyfriend but we didn't know it then. He fired at us, shoots down one of the guys in uniform and generally goes nuts. Knight's in charge but instead of calling us all back, he
decides to go after the gunman himself. We try to stop him but he wants to be a hero." Scarface shrugged. "I know. Not something you'd associate with him now, from what I hear, but I swear, back then, he wasn't one for following the rule book. But he got results and that's all that mattered in the end.

  "Anyway, he's in and we hear gunshots. Call me sentimental, but our academy rivalry had given us a connection. I couldn't let the poor bastard do it alone. I went in after him. I found him bleeding on the kitchen floor. I was leaning down to help him up when I heard footsteps. Knight yelled to me to watch out and I looked up and bang. Lights out. That's all I remember. I woke up in emergency with my head bandaged up in a turban." He humphed out a laugh. "I had a killer headache."

  I stared at Scarface, unable to get the image of the shooting out of my mind. The blood, the chaos, the fear both men would have suffered despite Scarface's casual retelling. What had Will's reaction been? Shoot the gunman? Check that his friend was okay? Call for backup?

  I couldn't guess. Seems like he'd been a different person back then.

  "That's how you got your scar?"

  "Yep. Bullet grazed me but that was enough to leave this behind. And that's how Knight lost his balls."

  "Excuse me?"

  "He wouldn't do anything after that without checking with his superiors first, especially if it was a domestic. Knight got nervous whenever he was called to one and that made him over cautious. He wouldn't let anyone enter the crime scene until two separate teams had checked it out, then he'd go through himself before he cleared the scene. And he followed the rules to the letter. His arrest stats went downhill fast."

  "Is that when he left the force and started working with my dad?"

  "One year later, to the day." He fingered the scar. "About the same time I went back on duty as undercover. I hadn't seen him until the other day. Looks like he's lost none of his pushy attitude."

  "You got that right." I sounded more amused than I felt. Scarface's story had shaken me up. I wasn't sure which freaked me out more—that Will had caused Scarface's disfigurement or the discovery that he had a vulnerable side. At least I'd discovered why he avoided domestics like the plague.