“Last warning, Jet.” He took another step.
I backed up, shaking my head as he took another step forward, sending me into silent, body-quivering laughter.
He charged, tossing me over his shoulder. Laughter was cut off mid-chuckle.
“Remy! Cut it out!”
“Oh, it’s not so funny now, is it?”
“No. It’s still funny. But I’m sore.”
“She’s right,” David added. “It’s still funny. You may as well put her down or we’ll be here all night.”
“Are you done laughing?” Remy asked.
“For now,” I muttered as my face pressed against his back.
“I think that’s as good as you’re going to get,” David said.
Remy set me down with a distinct disapproving grunt and took up post near the window.
“Was that necessary?” David asked Remy.
“It got rid of her hiccups when she was falling-down drunk. I thought it might work for laughter too. It seems to work for everything.”
“Does it work on jealous cocktail servers too?” I mocked, smirking when his scowl turned incredulous.
David raised a brow.
Frankie stepped out of the bedroom. “The air mattresses are ready,” he said. “Thank goodness I bought an air pump. A man can only blow for so long.”
I bit my lip.
“How did the chair get over there?” Frankie tisked. After replacing it in its original position, he settled into it then looked over at Remy who was still looming near the window. “Where are my manners? Remy, would you care to sit?”
I bit my lip harder.
“Damn it, Jet! Why am I here?” Remy barked, knowing full well I was teetering on the brink.
“Because someone blew up my building,” Frankie answered. “My building! Everything I worked so hard for is gone. I’ve been reduced to squatting in a flat with Nadia. And it’s not even a nice flat. The door is broken!”
“Your building blew up? As in a bomb exploding?” David questioned for clarification.
“There was an explosion in my apartment,” I said. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
Remy and David glanced at each other before listing their questions, which were starting to sound more like demands.
“Let me start at the beginning,” I said, halting their questions mid-strike. “The story will make more sense then.”
“There’s a story?” David asked.
“It’s Jet,” Remy gave a weary sigh. “There’s always a story.”
“Is that how you got all the bruises?” David asked.
“No. That’s from the excavator.”
“Were you remodeling?” David asked Frankie. “Maybe someone hit a line and that’s what caused the explosion.”
“The excavator was at Greyson’s house,” I said.
“Why does Greyson have an excavator?” he asked.
“To dig a pond. He used a regular shovel for days before he rented an excavator.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this?” David asked.
“I don’t know. But the first attack happened at Greyson’s while he was in the shower.”
“You better start from the beginning,” David said, crossing his arms.
I relayed the story of the first attack from beginning to end and then delved into the events of the explosion. Not that there was much to say. I turned a knob and my apartment exploded. If the door hadn’t slammed shut from the force and shielded me, I’d be dead.
“Who would want to kill you?” David asked.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “That’s why I called you and Remy. I need help. I don’t know who this person is or why they want to kill me.”
“Did the police make a report of both attacks?” David asked.
“I told them everything. But it was two separate attacks. I don’t know if they’ll find a connection between the two. Either way, I want answers now.”
“Have you received any threats?” Remy asked.
“No. None.”
“Run through the last week or two with me,” David said. “Let’s see if we can’t find something that could trigger a reason for these attacks.”
“Well . . .” I thought back to the last two weeks. “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Why don’t we start a list of everyone you’ve seen? That may help.”
“It’s just the usual people I always see: Frankie, Remy, Greyson, Caleb, Mya, Mark, Roy, Muffin, and Piñata.”
“Who is Piñata?”
“Muffin’s new husband. I don’t know his name and now I’m too embarrassed to ask. I really didn’t think he was going to stick around this long.”
“Do you know anything about him?” David asked.
“Muffin kidnapped him in California and married him once they crossed the state line. I don’t know anything about him.”
“Where are they staying?”
“They were staying at my apartment. Muffin took over the place like she normally does. I’m not sure where they’ll stay now.”
“Where were you staying if they were in your apartment?”
“Here,” Remy answered. “That is until I dropped her butt off at Greyson’s.”
“So, you’ve been staying at Greyson’s?” David clarified.
“I stayed a couple of nights.”
“Where else did you sleep?” David asked.
“Here. But I hardly think that matters,” I stated. “Let’s focus on people first.”
David’s interest perked. “I think it does matter.”
“No, it doesn’t!”
“Ah, we’re getting somewhere,” he said knowingly. “Is there another man in your life?”
“It’s the same two that have always been there,” Frankie said. “She can’t make up her mind. Personally, I think if you can’t make up your mind, then neither are worth your time.”
My brows flew up.
“Frankie has a point,” David said.
“So, she’s been sleeping with Caleb and Greyson,” Remy summed up as if commenting on the weather. “I think we can rule them out as killers.”
“I’m not sleeping with anyone,” I huffed. “How would you guess Caleb and Greyson anyway?”
I received a simultaneous eye roll from each man.
“Either way, I’m not sleeping with them. Well, sleeping but not other things. At least not everything,” I blathered like an idiot. “Not that I have to explain my actions to you.”
David barked with laughter. “No, you don’t have to explain your actions. Let’s move on, shall we? Like Remy said, I think we can rule them out as your attacker. They’d be thinking of ways to wake you up, not send you to your final slumber.”
“Ha, ha,” I muttered.
“But that does bring up the jealousy card,” Remy said. “Could anyone be jealous enough of your relationships?”
“Not that I know of. They’ve both been lying low recently.”
“Why are they lying low?” David asked.
“Well, Greyson quit and was having a hard time with the adjustment. You should really go out and see him. He’s not too bad anymore now that he’s working on a project.”
“What project?” David asked.
“He’s making a garden.”
David’s and Remy’s eyes widened at the downfall of a man reduced to tinkering in a garden.
“It’s not some girly garden,” I defended. “It will be amazing when it’s done.”
“Okay,” David said, shifting in his seat. He didn’t look convinced.
“Just go see him. You’ll be impressed.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And don’t tease him. He’s working really hard.”
“I promise I won’t tease him. Now tell me about Caleb. Has he been seen with any girls recently?”
“He’s always seen with a girl or two on his arm. However, recently he’s been lying low too. He even stopped playing at Lost City.”
“Why is
that?” David asked.
I hesitated. “He wants to keep it a secret. I don’t want to betray his trust.”
“We don’t care what his secret is. We’re just trying to find a possible suspect. Secrets can sometimes lead down a dangerous path,” David said.
“I really don’t see how his secret has anything to do with me. I’ll tell you as long as you promise to keep his secret as well.”
“You know we won’t tell a soul,” David said.
I eyed him. “Including Mya?”
He gave a shrewd smile before nodding. “It would be all over town in minutes if I told her.”
“Frankie, will you promise too?” I asked, knowing he’d be the only real possibility of leaking information.
Frankie bristled like an offended porcupine. “Of course I won’t say a word. How can you even think I would?” he spouted. “Haven’t I kept all your secrets? I never told anyone about the time you were naked in the chapel. Or how about the time . . .”
“You were naked?” David interrupted, his lips turned up in an amused smile. “This I have to hear.”
I glared at Frankie. He tittered and quickly gave his promise not to repeat Caleb’s secret.
“It was nothing,” I said.
“It sounds like you were wearing nothing,” David teased.
“Spill it or we’ll never get out of here,” Remy said.
“I had just started working for Frankie. You know the uniforms he insists that we wear. Well, the corset has strings that keep it tight and in place.”
Remy muttered an oath at the window.
“Anyway, our clients are normally drunk. This one man was falling-down drunk. He stumbled and clung onto me. His fingers were caught in the string when he toppled over, taking everything with him. It’s not really a secret, but it was embarrassing.” My eyes shifted dangerously over to Frankie who had the good grace to look sheepish.
David grinned. “Quite the picture. Now let’s hear Caleb’s secret.”
“Caleb’s PR manager and his accountant stole all of his money.”
“How much did they steal?” Remy asked.
“Roughly thirty million.”
“Do you mean to tell me the entire time we were trying to track down Greyson’s sorry ass for the fifteen-million ransom, we could’ve just asked Caleb for a loan?” Remy asked.
“I didn’t know he had so much money.”
“I suppose he has no idea where his PR manager or accountant is,” David said in thought. “And since these attacks are on you and not him, I don’t see how this has to do with the stolen money.”
“The attacker knows how to operate heavy equipment and knows about bombs. That’s not normally a requirement for a PR manager or accountant,” Remy said. “Could these be two separate incidents for two separate targets? The bomb may have been for Muffin and her husband.”
“It’s possible,” I said. “I’ve wanted to kill her many times.”
“Amen!” Frankie said.
“However, the person operating the excavator knew it was me. Being in the excavator, he had full vision of the pond.”
“I have to admit, it sounds like both attacks were probably meant for you,” David said. “No matter how much of a nuisance Muffin is, I don’t see a bombing in her future. That’s the work of a cool, calculating hand. Muffin brings out the worst in people. If someone tried to kill her, it would be in the heat of the moment.”
“What about her new husband?” Remy asked. “He seems suspicious. No one would put up with her for long without snapping.”
“I agree,” David said. “But why would he snap on Nadia and not Muffin? He wouldn’t place a bomb that he might ultimately trigger.”
“I doubt he would have set the bomb for me,” I said. “I stayed away from the apartment as much as I could. I think it was someone who knew I lived there but didn’t know I was basically homeless while Muffin took over.”
“I think it’s time to start investigating,” Remy said. “I’d still like to find out who Muffin’s husband is.”
“I’ll check on leads with Greyson and Caleb,” David said. “You check on Piñata. Let’s regroup later tonight.”
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Stay here,” was the unanimous response.
“I can help,” I insisted.
“Right now you need to stay safe and hidden. Does anyone know you’re living here?” David asked.
“Mya was here. She hunted me down last week.”
David shook his head. “Leave it to my wife to hunt down a friend.”
“I’ll have someone come and replace your door,” Remy said as he headed out. “His name is Rat.”
“Rat?” Frankie asked with a shudder. “Some nicknames grow on a person, but that name . . .” he shuddered again.
“Let’s just say, Rat’s name suits him,” Remy said. “Trust him as far as fixing the door, but nothing else.”
David stood to leave. “Don’t let anyone know you’re here. Remy and I will have this sorted out in a few days. Until then, stay here.”
I nodded. They wouldn’t accept any other answer, and that was okay with me. A few days hiding couldn’t hurt.
Chapter 16
“I knew I’d find you here!” Mya exclaimed as she burst through the door that Rat was installing. Rat slipped to the side to avoid collision.
Remy was right, Rat truly lived up to his name. Not only did he have the characteristics of a twitchy rodent from the alley, but I instinctively knew this was a man who had unsavory skills.
Rat watched the blonde beauty as if she was a scrumptious cheese wedge. She charged into the living room like a category-five hurricane.
“Do you know how many times I tried to call you?” she demanded, not waiting for an answer. “Six! I called you six times and you never even sent a simple text!”
“I’m lying low,” I explained. In reality, I was ignoring her calls on purpose . . . again. I’m a horrible friend. However, I knew David wouldn’t want Mya involved in this. She’s been through enough.
“Your apartment exploded and you can’t even pick up the phone to tell me you’re alive?”
“How did you know?” I asked.
“It’s on the news! I called David to start searching for you. I should have known you’d be hiding here.”
“Is David looking for me now?” I asked, wondering how much he’d told Mya. Obviously nothing, otherwise she wouldn’t be here yelling like a fishmonger’s wife.
“David said he’d follow up on some leads,” she said as she plopped into a chair. “He’s been gone all day. He even missed dinner. I should call him and let him know I found you.”
“Don’t bother,” I said. “He knows where I am.”
“He knows where you are? Did I just miss him?”
“By a few hours. Do you want something to drink? Frankie has been a busy little bee making this place into a temporary home. ‘Temporary’ being the key word. Everything here comes in single servings. Including the wine,” I said, holding up the empty mini bottle. “This is my third, but we have plenty. Four cases to be exact. Frankie knows a guy who knows a guy who’s actually a girl. Don’t ask. It took two bottles just to remind myself I don’t really care who supplies it.” I’m quite happy drinking it, though.
“I’ll take a bottle,” she said, stowing her phone into her oversized purse before dropping it on the floor. “I can’t believe I missed David,” she puzzled. “When did you say he was here? I wonder why he didn’t call and let me know. I was worried sick.”
I handed her a bottle and plunked down in my blow-up chair, which seemed to have developed a slow leak. At first I thought it was the alcohol that was making the room tilt, but it turned out the chair was deflating to one side.
“David and Remy were the ones who told me to stay here,” I said.
“You mean he knew where you were all this time?” Mya asked with large, disbelieving eyes.
“I’ll tell you everything after Rat
leaves,” I said, motioning with my head toward Rat who was currently installing the locks and listening to every word we said. His hands paused slightly at his name.
“Why do you call him Rat?” she whispered. “I mean, I get the . . .” she gestured to her face.
“It’s because I can get in and out of places undetected,” he said, continuing his work on the lock. “I hear things. I see things. It’s rare that anyone finds me.”
“How do you know Remy?” I asked.
His hands paused again. “I said it was rare, not impossible. Unfortunately, he sees more than the average person.”
“He caught you, didn’t he?” I asked, pleased that I wasn’t the only one Remy loomed over like a shadow. “Were you trying to break into his place?”
“Something like that,” he shrugged. “Instead of calling the cops, he offered a working arrangement.”
Interesting. “Would you be able to help me?” I asked.
“I thought I was,” he said, pointing to the door.
“I want to break into an office,” I said.
Rat quickly checked the hall for people and then closed the door. His small eyes slid to me. “That’s how people get caught,” he warned. “Silent and independent is the only way to avoid getting pinched.”
“She doesn’t want to get pinched,” Mya said helpfully. “She wants to break into an office.”
He looked at her as though she’d missed a step.
“No one likes getting pinched,” Mya explained. “It hurts.”
His narrow brows furrowed together.
“You may want to explain what getting pinched means,” I said to Rat, enjoying this conversation immensely. It must be the wine.
His brows cleared in understanding. “It’s slang for getting arrested.”
Her mouth formed a large O. “I don’t think I like that slang word. It sounds crude.”
“Slang is crude,” he stated. “It’s fitting since life is crude.”
“Life is not crude,” she argued. “Life is very beautiful!”
“Except for the life-threatening times,” I said, taking a sip from the wine bottle. “Would you care for some wine, Rat?”
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