Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series)

by Carrie Ann Knox

  I blinked, waiting for an explanation. Nothing. “Um, what was that about? Are we trying to terrorize the people at Joe’s, too?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “No.”

  “So then what does ‘DMB’ mean?”

  She started the car and turned to me. “Dave Matthews Band, of course.”

  My eyes widened at the absurdity. I did admit to a longtime love for the group, but tagging was definitely never part of the deal. And we were grownups. Supposedly, anyway. Was my partner a little bit crazy? There had been signs.

  Sloan burst out laughing. “Just messing with you. It’s meaningless. And it’ll be washed off by rain within days. But it looks like amateur gang graffiti, so no one will pay it any attention. Except maybe the cops. They’ll probably be scratching their heads wondering who the heck DMB is for quite some time.”

  Oh. “So why did you draw meaningless graffiti?”

  “I need to get a message to someone. And at the moment this is the only way I can.”

  Odd. “And let me guess—you’re not going to tell me who? Or what the message is?”

  She gave me her annoyingly mysterious smile. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  Maddening, this one. I sulked silently, pondering the possibilities, until we walked into our new partner Richard’s office for a surprise update.

  Sloan was kicked back in Richard’s chair, feet propped up on his desk, when the man himself waltzed through the door and froze at the sight. He stifled his initial annoyance, settling for a more conciliatory greeting with icy undertones.

  “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I spoke up from my guest chair below him. “We’re just checking in. Keeping you informed of our progress. In fixing all the trouble you’ve caused.”

  Sloan raised her eyebrows with a smile. “Like she said.” She swung her feet down and moved away from the desk, gesturing grandly toward the vacated chair.

  Richard huffed past her and took his seat. “Well, get on with it.”

  “Phase one is complete,” Sloan said. “Carolyn should be plenty worked up by now. Paranoid and desperate. You’ve already planted your hints?”

  “Yes, yes. Everything you’ve told me to do.”

  I stood. “Good. And we’re on for Saturday? Your guest list is complete?”

  “Done. I took care of it.” Richard glared at us with disdain. “And if you don’t mind, I have real work to do.”

  We nodded our satisfaction and turned to go. But just as we reached the door, a figure turned the corner, almost running directly into us. The woman visibly startled.

  My startle was internal—when I realized the woman was Carolyn Evans.

  “Oh, I apologize,” she said, taking a step back. Then recognition clicked and she looked at me more closely. My stomach sank.

  “Wait. Don’t I know you?”

  I sped through my options. No way I could get out cleanly with denial. My face lit up with pleased recognition. “Oh yes—Mrs. Evans. So good to see you.”

  Richard pounced, sensing new information. He sidled up to me. “So you two know each other?”

  “Why, yes,” Carolyn answered. “Dr. Bailey—or should I say, soon-to-be doctor—is using our facility in her dissertation study. Should be starting very shortly, if I remember correctly.” She turned to me. “Are you thinking of doing something here as well? They don’t really fit the profile for noise exposure.”

  I nodded in answer, grateful for the hint. “I’m finding that out. But I’m just exploring some options. See if there’s a need for intervention in any other types of work environments.”

  “Well, the ambition is admirable.” She turned to Richard. “I won’t keep you. I just needed that contact information you offered. The security company?”

  “Sure.” Richard moved quickly to his desk and located a business card in his top drawer. He flashed a look of concern when he handed it to Carolyn. “Everything okay?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out before responding. “Fine. I just want to look into my options. Can’t be too careful these days.” She gave me a quick nod, continuing to ignore Sloan’s presence. “Best of luck.”

  I tried to take advantage of the exit. “We should be going, too.”

  Richard reached for me as I moved toward the door. “Actually, I have a few more questions if you don’t mind. Doctor Bailey.”

  I halted, paralyzed.

  Carolyn raised her hand in a little wave. “See you this weekend, Richard.”

  I gulped as she disappeared down the hall. Satisfied she was gone, Richard moved closer, his eyes twinkling with dark pleasure.

  “So who exactly do we have here?”

  Sloan stepped between us, giving me a moment to get myself together. My worlds were colliding, and I didn’t like the possibilities for the explosion.

  “None of your concern.”

  Ignoring Sloan, he peered around her at me with curiosity. “You’re not even an investigator, are you?”

  I finally gathered my wits and went for vague. “At the moment, I’m functioning in that capacity.”

  He shook off Sloan by stepping to the side and gave me a direct look. “Well, it sounds like you’re functioning in quite a few capacities, then.”

  I shrugged. “I stay busy. Has nothing to do with your situation.”

  “Oh, I think it might. Dissertation? Doctor? A gal like that doesn’t usually get mixed up in something like this. I’d be willing to bet there’s somebody above you that wouldn’t be very happy to hear about all your after-school activities.”

  “Yeah, we know all about your betting,” Sloan retorted. “Doesn’t sound like you’re very good at it.”

  “My personal time is my business,” I added. “And you wouldn’t know anything about it.”

  “Ah, but I could.” His face turned darker as he leaned in. “Listen here, sweetheart. I know your soft spot now. This whole thing doesn’t go my way, I’ll be sure to make it my business to bring you down, too. My secrets come out—well, so do yours.”

  Richard gave me a sinister grin before backing away. He returned to his desk and dismissed us with a wave. “You can go.”

  I maintained my poker face despite my inner uproar. We walked calmly toward the door. Unwilling to let Richard believe he had the upper hand, Sloan shot him a smug grin as we exited. “We’ll be seeing you, Richard. Real soon.”

  Twenty-Six

  I had no idea what I was expecting when she flipped on the light, but I still found myself pleasantly surprised. So this is what a PI hideout looks like. Since Richard’s personal threat I’d had a few days off from the truth-seeking game, leading me to spend a little too much time in my own head with his words. So a little change was a welcome distraction.

  I took in the loft space. The room was small but felt much larger due to the soaring ceiling and wall of windows. A large exposed-brick wall and subway sign art gave the space a hip urban vibe. A large black desk, antique-looking filing cabinet and funky leather chairs filled out the otherwise sparse room.

  “Luckily I have my own entrance,” Sloan said, “so no one keeps track of my coming and going. I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you to know I prefer my privacy.”

  It was the first time she’d implied there was anyone else. “So you work with other investigators?”

  “Sort of. Our little shop dabbles in a few different areas. I handle most of the personal investigations, on my own, while my partner focuses on other matters. He and his employees have offices down that way.” She pointed to a door at the back. “I don’t see him much, mainly just check in to discuss cases. But we help each other out when we need it. It’s a perfect setup.”

  My nod of understanding turned into a startle when a loud bang shook the window beside me. The whites of two eyes glowed from the darkness beyond the glass. Showcasing two stunning emerald irises.

  Sloan raised her voice to the dark figure. “Well, it’s about time!”

  I tried my hardest not
to stare when she unlocked the window and a dark-clad man climbed into the room. It wasn’t so much the surprising entrance that had me averting my eyes self-consciously. It was the man that emerged from the hood over his head. The guy was gorgeous.

  He unzipped his sweatshirt and shook it off, revealing a fitted gray t-shirt that hugged powerful biceps and a toned torso. Dark jeans clung to him in wet patches. It must’ve begun raining outside. I finally forced my eyes away, wanting an explanation.

  Sloan appeared immune to the sight. “Well, you’re just in the nick of time. We were almost going to have to find some other underground genius to help.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He threw the wet hoodie onto the nearest chair and ran a hand through his damp chestnut hair. The resulting look was more disheveled and somehow even sexier.

  Finally Sloan reacted to my inquisitive expression. “Quinn, this cheerful visitor is Lucas. He’s going to help us set up for our little showdown this weekend.”

  “Showdown?” Lucas scoffed, ignoring the introductions. “What are you into now, Mack?”

  “Easy now,” Sloan said. “Be nice. And say hello to my friend.”

  Like a switch being flipped, his face transformed as he turned to me. A megawatt smile lit up his handsome face. “You’re right. Nice to meet you.” He exuded easy charm as he shook my hand. “Sorry. I just have a lot going on right now. And this one,” he flashed a stern look at Sloan, “is always into something.”

  Without waiting for a response, Lucas turned and flopped into the nearest chair. Just like that, the charm had vanished. And I was invisible.

  He sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, so what’s up?”

  Sloan perched on the edge of the desk in front of him. “We need a full-coverage surveillance spread. Hoping to close out a case. But before we get to that, what’s up with the mysterious entrance? Forgotten how doors work with all your skulking around?”

  “I’ve been keeping a low profile. There’s a bit of a . . . misunderstanding.”

  Sloan looked only mildly concerned. “Are you in trouble?”

  “Not yet, as such. There’s someone I need to find, then I’ll be able to clear everything up. No need to worry. Yet.”

  “If you say so.” Sloan pulled a business card from her jeans pocket and handed it to Lucas. “Here’s the address. Hope you’ve got plenty of cameras available—we need you to cover every inch of the place with them in the morning. Nice and discreet.”

  Lucas seemed unfazed by the urgent timeline. “Got it.”

  “But then some strategically placed fake ones, too.”

  Fake cameras? I was baffled as to why we would need them in Richard’s house, but didn’t want to flaunt my inexperience. I stayed invisible and listened, fascinated.

  “Not a problem. What about access?”

  “The owner will be expecting you,” Sloan answered. “I doubt you’ll find him very personable. But he’ll do whatever you need, or he can answer to me.”

  “Ah, I see. A hostile takeover. And what exactly is the goal here?”

  “Like I said, we’re closing out the case. This should get us some answers. Clear up whether we’re just dealing with a greedy, scheming client and a tragedy—or a true criminal conspiracy.”

  Lucas let out what sounded like a growl of frustration. “Why can’t you just stick to background checks and pictures of cheating husbands?”

  “Believe it or not, that’s how this all started.” Sloan ignored the hostility and looked to me with a sly smile. “We’re just extra thorough.”

  “Fine. And the feeds—routed to your laptop?”

  “With normal backup precautions, of course.”

  Still a little lost, but used to the feeling by now.

  “Well, if that’s all you have for me.” Lucas hopped from his chair and moved toward the window, grabbing his sweatshirt on the way.

  Sloan followed him. “You’re going back out that way?”

  “Unexplained things just make people ask questions. If I never came in—I can’t very well be seen going out. You know that.”

  “Good point. So, no hints as to how to find you?”

  He scratched at the dark stubble on his strong jaw as he stared back for a moment. “Better you don’t know. But you know how to reach me.” He raised his eyebrows, giving her a subtle smile. “Next time you might try a song title instead. Keep ‘em guessing.”

  “Fine.” She thought for a second. “How about ‘I’ll back you up’?”

  Ah, Dave Matthews—the mysterious chalk message. Of course.

  Lucas smirked. “Fitting enough.” He reached his hand to Sloan’s hair and gently tucked a lock behind her ear. His gaze was affectionate for just a brief moment. Then he turned and climbed out the window and into the night, without another word.

  I watched out the window a moment, waiting to ensure privacy. Then I gave Sloan a bug-eyed stare.

  She returned a blank gaze. “What?”

  “Um, do you have anything to tell me?”

  Sloan’s quizzical look was clearly faked. “Like?”

  “Like—who exactly was that? Are you dating?”

  “Oh. Gross.” She scowled and flipped open the laptop on the desk. “No.”

  “Gross!” Um, no. “I don’t know who you saw, but that’s hardly the word I’d use to describe the god that was just in here. Gruff, maybe. But definitely not gross.”

  Sloan focused her attention on the computer, ignoring me. I wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

  Finally she sighed. “Okay, look. You’re right. Luke is tall and dark and handsome and brilliant—and pretty much everything one could want.” She looked up, finally meeting my eyes. “Just like his brother. Joel.”

  Oh.

  She shrugged. “They were practically twins. Barely more than a year apart and best friends.”

  “So that explains his protectiveness? He was like family?”

  Sloan nodded, her mind elsewhere. “He still is.” She looked back at me again. “And so no, I definitely don’t have any feelings for Lucas. That would be way too weird. Incestuous.”

  I was fascinated by the subtle relief I felt at her declaration. Brusque men that ignore me were not usually my thing. But I guess my ‘thing’ had been a little all over the map lately.

  “But wait a minute,” Sloan said, amusement taking over her face. “I think maybe you have a thing for Lucas.”

  I scoffed. “Right.”

  “Liar. And he’s just your type. Dark hair, light eyes, brainiac.”

  “Don’t forget surly,” I shot back. “Tough guys are your thing, remember?”

  “Nah, don’t let him fool you. It’s just an act. He’s actually very thoughtful and sensitive if you get to know him.” She closed the laptop. “He’s just frustrated he can’t keep me from doing my job. After his brother, he’s been trying to keep me away from trouble. Unsuccessfully, of course. It’s sweet, really.”

  “Well, regardless, he barely acknowledged my existence. I don’t think you need to worry about a love connection.”

  “I’m not worried. In fact, I think it would be a great idea for you to get out there. But I should warn you not to get too close.”

  “I have zero interest in getting too close, trust me.” I tried to let it go, but my curiosity got the best of me. I did my best to sound nonchalant. “But why, exactly?”

  Sloan began gathering her things. “Let’s just say I don’t take him as the settling down type. And I seriously suspect you are. So you’d have to keep that in mind, should you ever get to know him.”

  “Whatever,” I said breezily. But I wasn’t sure what to make of her statement. I didn’t like being pigeonholed. Really, who could know what type I was? I certainly didn’t seem to anymore.

  I shook it off. “What’s he do, anyway? Why is he hiding out?”

  “I’ll have to let him fill you in sometime. It’s . . . complicated.” Sloan moved to open the door. “Anyway, looks
like our job is done for now. My sources tell me Carolyn has been terrorized enough that she’s hired a personal security team, so she’s primed and ready. I’m glad you weren’t permanently scared off by Richard’s threats. Still with me, right?”

  I thought about it one last time as I followed her out. Even after all my stress over how my boss could react to me playing spy in my free time, there was no way I was going to let him intimidate me into backing down now. We’d come too far. “Yep. I’m good.”

  “Smart girl.” She flipped off the lights and pulled the door behind us. The old building was deserted after hours. “Get some good sleep tonight, because we have a very special party to go to tomorrow. I think it’ll be quite enlightening.”

  Twenty-Seven

  The lying in wait looks so much more exciting in the movies.

  Here in Blaine’s sports-themed childhood bedroom, anxiously counting down to our big moment, I was too on edge to use the time to read research articles as I had hoped. Instead I kept checking each camera view on the laptop, obsessively making sure each was working. So much for being productive in other parts of my life. But finally Richard’s party downstairs was getting into swing and there was something to watch on the video feed.

  I looked over at Sloan. Legs thrown casually across the side of the armchair, she was leisurely reading a novel as though she had no worries in the world. As though she were involved in a sting operation to ensnare a possible murder-for-hire client everyday. Who knew, maybe she was.

  But her annoying nonchalance did make me feel better. She didn’t seem too concerned.

  As the gathering on the main floor grew, I focused on the view of the front door. The great room was full of middle-aged professionals. Mostly business acquaintances, I assumed. Surely a man like Richard didn’t have this many actual friends. Our guest of honor was casually late.

  I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “What if she doesn’t show up?”

  Sloan didn’t look up from her book. “Don’t worry, she’ll show.”

  I gritted my teeth nervously and checked all the cameras one more time. Wait. There she is!