In a Fix

by Linda Grimes

  desk and puled me up. “Lead on, Fancy.”

  Chapter 9

  Mark stood at the end of the otherwise empty corridor, speaking softly into his phone. When he saw the three of us he held up

  one finger, said a few more words, then ended his conversation. He slipped the phone into his front jeans pocket, where the ultra-slim gadget barely made a bulge, and gestured for the three of us to join him.

  “What’s up?” Bily asked.

  “Okay. The Swede works for some wacko neo-Viking splinter group bent on restoring masculinity to Scandinavia.” Derision

  seeped through his carefuly neutral voice.

  “Vikings? You have got to be kidding me,” I said, picturing a bunch of tal, blond barbarians running around in horned helmets.

  Mark looked faintly embarrassed. “Yeah, I know. But I guess it’s no weirder than some of the other shit going on in the

  world.”

  Bily grinned and held up fingers on either side of his head, simulating horns. Great minds think alike. “No, this is definitely

  weirder.”

  I giggled.

  Mark gave us both a queling look. “It is what it is. This group wants to reclaim their heritage of strength and honor.”

  Bily nodded. “The world can always use more strength and honor. And helmets. You can never have too many helmets.”

  Thomas silenced Bily with a backhanded slap to his shoulder.

  “Trey connected with the Vikings six months ago,” Mark continued, “and has been trying to figure out whether they’re a

  legitimate threat or just out to grab some headlines.”

  “Why Trey?” Thomas asked. “Isn’t he a little green for anything other than courier work?”

  “Normaly, yes. But he had a legitimate business reason to be in Sweden, and, frankly, it didn’t seem like this neo-Viking thing

  would amount to much. I mean, this is a group that started out as a bunch of men who were tired of being told by society to ‘pee

  sitting down,’ as they so colorfuly put it. Hard to take that seriously.”

  “I’m going out on a limb here, and assuming they meant that metaphoricaly,” Bily said.

  “One hopes,” Mark said, lips quirking. “Anyway, the group has grown recently. It’s showing signs of expanding to America,

  for fundraising mostly, at least so far. Sweden doesn’t want them taking a page from the IRA playbook, and has requested we

  take a closer look. There’ve been some ralies, a lot of blustering. No public violence, but picking up steam to the point where we

  couldn’t ignore them as a possible future threat, no matter how ridiculous they seem.”

  “Ridiculous or not, they’re after Trey,” Thomas said. “Did your organization drop the bal somewhere, Mark?” The accusation

  was clear.

  “Come on, Tom, be fair,” Bily said, al seriousness now. “Do you have any idea how many radical splinter groups there are to

  keep track of in the world?”

  “Only one I care about right now—the one affecting my sister.” Thomas was usualy a reasonable guy, only not so much where

  his family was concerned.

  “You’re right,” Mark said. “No excuses. I should’ve looked into the Vikings more closely as soon as I knew about Ciel’s

  connection to Mina. You have my apology, Tom.”

  Thomas nodded, somewhat molified, and Mark picked up where he left off. “Trey was in the process of delivering some intel

  to his liaison with the Swedish security police when he was grabbed. We don’t know how he got away, and we don’t know

  where he is now. The Vikings are stil looking hard for someone. We assume it’s Trey. He knows enough not to risk

  communication with us under the circumstances.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Bily said.

  “Gotland,” Mark said at once. “Island off the coast of Sweden. You know it?”

  “Ah, yes. I visited once, with a friendly SAS flight attendant who hailed from Visby. Charming place.” The faraway look in

  Bily’s eyes gave me a good idea of just how friendly the flight attendant had been.

  “Great. Visby is the last place Trey was known to be, and there’s a good chance he’s stil on the island. Get there as quickly as

  you can. Travel commercial, don’t draw attention to yourself. Once you’re there, make a show of wandering around. Act touristy.

  Trey trusts you—our best hope is that he’l make contact.”

  “You know Trey?” I asked Bily, once more feeling out of the loop.

  Bily shrugged at me, and spoke to Mark. “What do you want me to do if I find him?”

  “Get him off the island and to our safe house outside Stockholm without being picked up by the Vikings. If that’s not feasible,

  learn whatever you can, leave him hidden, and get yourself out. In the meantime, I’l be checking with some of my contacts here.”

  “What about me?” I asked, wondering how I was supposed to fit into al this cloak-and-dagger stuff.

  “You stay put until you hear from me,” Mark said. “Once we have Trey back, you can wrap up your job.”

  “You expect me to wait around, twiddling my thumbs, while you’re out tracking down my client’s fiancé?”

  He cast a wary glance at Thomas. “Since I have no desire to be eviscerated by your brother, wait is exactly what I expect you

  to do. Thumb twiddling is optional.”

  I was about to tel him what he could do with his thumbs when Mina’s cel phone rang. I’d kept it with me ever since I’d taken

  it out of the bungalow right before the explosion. If I wanted to salvage this job, I had to maintain the facade.

  “Crap. It’s Dragon Mama,” I said, referring to Trey’s mother. She and Mina were not on the best of terms. Reluctantly, I

  morphed into my client, wincing as my clothes suddenly pinched. “I have to take this.”

  “Mina?” she said before I’d even gotten half my helo out. “Is that you? Where’s Henry? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”

  Trey’s mother was the only one who caled him Henry. He hated it. “Tel me he wasn’t in that explosion I saw on the news. My

  baby! Where is he? Which hospital did they take him to?”

  “Calm down, Mrs. Harrison. Trey is fine.”

  “His name is Henry. That awful nickname makes him sound like something a waiter carries. I did not go through twenty-eight

  excruciating hours of labor to give birth to a serving piece!”

  I winced. I knew that. “Um, yes. Henry. Henry is fine. That wasn’t us. It was, uh, the bungalow next door. Tr—Henry has just

  been busy, um,” I crossed my fingers, “helping people.” What else could I say? If she thought Trey was hurt, nothing would keep

  her from rushing to his side.

  “You’re lying to me—I can tel. Oh, my God! He’s dead. You’re afraid to tel me he’s—”

  “NO. He’s great, I swear. Oh, look—here he is now. He just got back.” I covered the mouthpiece and pushed the phone to

  Mark, whispering wildly, “You have his aura—do something!”

  With an I-realy-have-better-things-to-do look, Mark slid into Trey’s aura. I held on to him the whole time, leaning in close,

  trying to hear both sides of the conversation. From what I could make out, Dragon Mama was lobbying for a visit. “How are you,

  Mother?” Mark said, his cadence perfect. “Yes, I’m fine … no, don’t do that … Mother. Stop. Breathe … I’l let you know. It

  may be a while … here, Mina wants to say something.”

  I tried to back away, shaking my head madly. He caught me by the wrist, and grinned as he slapped the phone into my hand,

  dropping Trey’s aura and abandoning me to the verbal mauling of Mina’s future mother-in-law. By the time I hung up I was

  dazed, confused, and practicaly anoxic from how tightly my
jeans squeezed Mina’s luscious curves. Which no doubt accounted

  for me promising the Dragon I would personaly see to it that Trey would make it home in time for her birthday, whenever the hel

  that was. I’d have to check Mina’s file.

  When I was myself again, and my head cleared, I saw Bily had left. Thomas and Mark had gone back into my office to talk.

  Their conversation ceased abruptly when I joined them.

  Mark spoke first. “I’d better be on my way. Tom, good to see you again. Ciel, I’l let you know as soon as we recover Trey.

  Sorry for any inconvenience the Agency may have inadvertently caused you.”

  Trying to keep it official now, was he? I don’t think so. I planted myself squarely in the doorway. “Thomas, isn’t there

  something you have to do in your office? Actualy, here,” I dug into the front pocket of my hoodie and took out Mina’s ring,

  “could you keep this in your safe for me? I need to speak to Mark for a minute before he goes.”

  With a sympathetic glance at Mark, Thomas said, “Sure. Come on up when you’re done, sis—I’l take you to lunch later.” I

  stepped out of the way, briefly, to let him pass, and then blocked the door again so Mark couldn’t escape.

  “Look, Ciel,” he began as soon as we were alone, giving me the dove-soft eyes. “I know you don’t like this, but it can’t be

  helped.”

  I resisted the pul. “Mina is my client. Anything that involves her involves me. You seem to be under the impression I’m stil

  some sort of kid you can push to the side.”

  He stepped closer, invading my space, but I held my ground, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. I wasn’t going to let him

  crowd me out of his way that easily. He stared intently at my face for several seconds before his eyes took on a look I’d never

  seen before, at least not directed at me. Hot. Leaning in close enough for me to feel the warmth of his body and his breath on my

  neck, he said, “Is that what you were trying to prove last night, Howdy? That you’re not a kid anymore?”

  I sagged against the doorframe, my mind spinning like an anemic hamster in a rusty wheel at the reminder of my drunken

  kiss … and at his closeness.

  Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, don’t …

  He continued speaking, softly, his words tickling my ear. “Maybe Scotch isn’t your drink.”

  I cleared my throat, dragging myself back from the brink of idiothood. “So next time I’l have bourbon,” I said, keeping my

  voice jaunty in spite of my nerves. His laugh came in a short burst, like I’d surprised it out of him. I thought for a second he’d

  move his lips closer to mine—he was staring at my mouth—and felt my eyes get big in spite of my bravado. Flirting with him

  wasn’t nearly as easy sober. But he just took a deep breath, puled me away from the door, and left me standing there, wobbly.

  “Later, Howdy.”

  Later? As in “see ya later, kid”? Or was he promising something more? When my head stopped whirling at the prospect, I

  realized I was stil firmly in possession of the piece of my mind I’d been planning to give him. And he was doing exactly what he

  intended al along: leaving me with my brother.

  Goddamn stupid hormones.

  *

  If I had to wait out the Trey-saving mission, I figured I might as wel do it where I could be more useful. With Mina. Keeping an

  eye on her, just in case … Okay, so I was stil feeling kind of edgy about that laptop. But first I wanted to make sure I’d done

  everything I could to help locate that fiancé I guaranteed her. Finding the guy was kind of crucial to my career cred, after al. You

  have to look at the big picture if you’re going to succeed in the business world.

  Alone in my office, I dug back into my files to see if we’d overlooked anything—anything at al—that might be helpful in the

  hunt. Some tiny clue to where he might be hiding from the Vikings. The first thing that struck my eye, about as pleasantly as an

  errant squirt from a grapefruit, was Trey’s mother’s birthday: tomorrow.

  Crap. I could’ve sworn I had at least a few weeks—enough time to be certain it wouldn’t be my problem. And here I’d

  practicaly taken a blood oath on the head of Mina’s firstborn child that Trey would be there to watch his mother blow out her

  candles. (Ha. Dragon Mama could probably light the candles with her breath.)

  No avoiding it. Before I went to hang with Mina, I’d have to fix things with Trey’s mother. I locked up my office, and ditched

  Thomas with a promise to connect with him later. It wasn’t a complete lie, since I’d already established through my earlier

  interaction with Mark that “later” was an inherently ambiguous word. I didn’t like deceiving my brother, but I had no choice. He

  wouldn’t like what I was about to do. It would worry him, and worrying him wouldn’t be nice, would it?

  Honestly, sometimes I’m such a considerate sister I surprise even myself.

  My condo was stil a mess. I ignored it and went straight to the closet in the guest room, where I dug through Bily’s stash of

  clothing until I found some things I thought would suit, and put them on.

  Time for a test run.

  After saying a brief prayer the aura wouldn’t prove to be as twitchy as Benjamin’s, I closed my eyes and searched my mind for

  the residual energy I’d absorbed while holding on to Mark during his brief talk with Trey’s mother. Sure, it was a secondhand

  aura—I had yet to meet the real Trey—but between the little I’d intentionaly taken then, and any I’d absorbed from my exposure

  to the aura through both Mark and Bily in the Bahamas, I thought I could pul it off.

  When I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror I was rewarded with the sight of the gorgeous, non-Chiclets smile. Maybe

  not perfect, but close enough for horseshoes or hand grenades. And hopefuly dragons.

  Chapter 10

  La Guardia was bustling when I landed, but at least I didn’t have to retrieve any suitcases from baggage claim, Trey’s luggage

  having been blown into nonexistence. Al I had was a smal carry-on bag I’d borrowed from Bily’s extensive stash of aura

  accessories to hold the few essentials Trey would have replaced before this short trip home.

  On the way to the taxi stand I was intercepted by an age-defying platinum blonde who might as wel have been wearing an “Ice

  Queen” name tag. She had a hint of a smile, but that was probably because her latest facelift was stil puling a little tight. Trey’s

  mother.

  She rushed to my side. “Henry! Let me look at you. Are you al right? You scared me to death.”

  “Happy Birthday, Mother. You look younger every year.” I kissed her taut cheek and gave her a brief hug, just as Trey would

  have. I’d reread my files on the plane, trying to pack in every bit of info about him Mina had provided. “But you didn’t have to

  come to the airport.”

  “Don’t be sily,” she said, preening under my flattery. “I have the limo. Why wouldn’t I come?”

  “Fine then,” I said, hitting her with the non-Chiclets. “And thank you.”

  “Where’s Mina? I thought surely she’d be with you—the pair of you are joined at the hip these days. Unless you’ve had a

  faling out?” Hope gleamed in her eyes.

  “Mina flew straight home to reassure her parents.”

  “I see. She didn’t think it was important to stop here on the way and wish me a happy birthday herself … wel, never you mind.

  I’m sure your thoughtfulness wil rub off on her eventualy. If you’re together long enough.”

  Trey wasn’t an eye-roler, so I suppressed that urge. But I was seriou
sly starting to question Mina’s judgment about marrying

  into this family. Sure, Trey was wonderful enough, but geez, think of the holidays. There wasn’t enough Valium in the world to

  make sharing a turkey with this woman bearable.

  On the up side, I sensed repeat business in my future.

  The limo looked just like the one in Mina’s dossier. Once we were settled in the backseat, I tried my best to be the kind of son

  I knew Trey was. “So, Mother, how have you been? Busy as ever with the girls?” The “girls” were the doyennes of one of the

  most exclusive country clubs in Connecticut, where the Harrisons kept their country home. Trey’s parents divided their time

  between there and a penthouse near Central Park.

  “Not so busy that I don’t have time to miss my only son horribly,” she said, with what I’m sure she thought was a pretty pout.

  Before I had to fish out the appropriate response, a smal crackle indicated the intercom had connected. “Wil we be making

  any stops before going home, ma’am?” the driver inquired, sounding suitably obsequious.

  “No, Lars. Straight home.”

  I tensed. “Lars? What happened to Joe?”

  “The stupid man had an accident last night—a car accident. Can you imagine? He’s supposed to be a professional driver.”

  “Is he al right?” I asked.

  “Oh, he’l be fine. He won’t be driving for a while, though, so the limo people sent Lars to fil in. I only hope he can find his way

  around town—I certainly don’t want to waste my time giving directions to every place I go.”

  I stared at the back of the chauffeur’s head through the glass barrier. The man wasn’t especialy fair-haired. He hadn’t spoken

  or done anything to draw attention to himself when he’d put my bag in the trunk, but the name was enough to make me wonder.

  The more I wondered, the more I worried about Mina.

  At the next stoplight, I caught the chauffeur staring at me via the rearview mirror. I didn’t like the look in his eye. It was …

  smug, somehow, like he knew something I didn’t.

  That was it. I was heading to the lake house asap. But I couldn’t leave Trey, and by proxy Mina, holding a relationship time