There wasn’t even any food in the fridge. I was shit at grocery shopping and usually just ordered takeout, but even that was getting old.
I was only twenty-eight, too damn young to being feeling so old and burnt out already.
Eight
Emily
I tugged the curtain back from the window and my eyes sought out the man I knew was out there somewhere. It was a game I’d created in my boredom over the last several days, sort of like Where’s Waldo? Only it was where is the Teller man? Spencer and his boss both insisted there should be eyes on the house at all times until they figured out why someone shot up the wedding. Their guys, along with my brother, took turns playing super babysitter.
Sometimes they were in a truck across the street with tinted windows, or a car at the end of the block. Other times they circled the neighborhood under the guise of a jogger. The last one was even walking a dog. Where the hell they got a dog for this mission I didn’t know and I didn’t ask.
There was a soft rap on the door before it was nudged open and Nora poked her head in. “Regret staying yet? You have to be going out of your mind with boredom, I know I am.”
I shrugged. “I guess no excitement is a good thing.”
She sighed and came the rest of the way into the room, dropping down on the bed beside me. “Yeah, but I don’t know how much longer I can stay cooped up here. Spence’s parents are great, but . . .”
“But it’s hard being a guest in someone else’s home, worrying about stepping on toes and being an inconvenience.”
“Exactly. I’m so bored I’m actually thinking about going for a run.”
“Desperate measures already?” I teased. “Will Spencer even allow it?” He’d been pretty adamant when he told us to stay put.
“If we take one of his G.I. Joes with us. So what do you say, want to go for a run, just to get out of here for a bit and work off some of the food Rebecca has been feeding us? My God, that woman can cook!”
“Isn’t it like ninety degrees out right now?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that..”
“Maybe tonight after it cools off we can go for that run, but I think we could probably manage a nice, leisurely afternoon walk without melting. Lord knows we could both use some sun since it never makes it over to our side of the mountain.”
“Yeah, forget the run. New plan, I think there’s an ice cream place not far we can walk to.”
I chuckled. Ice cream was definitely more Nora’s speed than intentional exercise.
“And if I suck up to Spencer tonight, I might even be able to talk him into a shopping outing tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll suck something.” I elbowed her and then laughed again when she glared at me.
“Whatever, get dressed and I’ll go get permission for us to leave.” She stood, grabbing one of the pillows off the bed, and threw it at my face.
“Ugh, it feels like we’re twelve again, having to get permission to go anywhere.”
“I know, but there’s no way I’d be able to convince Spencer to let us go out on our own right now, and if we just left . . . well I’d rather he didn’t divorce me just days after we got married.”
“Please, he wouldn’t divorce you. He’d lock you up somewhere and keep you as his pleasure slave.”
She rolled her eyes and left me alone to change out of the pajamas I was still wearing. At two o’clock in the afternoon.
I collapsed backward on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling. I wouldn’t admit it to Nora, because I’d have to admit I still wasn’t sleeping well, but I needed a nap more than I needed ice cream and that was saying a lot. Ben and Jerry had become two of my closest friends. I turned to them most nights. They gave me much needed comfort and not so needed extra padding around my ass and thighs. I blew out a heavy breath and sat up. Maybe I should try to talk Nora into that run later.
I stripped out of my cotton shorts and t-shirt, and dug through my suitcase for the last clean pair of denim cutoffs I had and a flowy tank. After dressing, I attempted to gather my hair into a messy bun. Most of the short strands kept escaping. It seemed like it was taking forever to grow back since psycho Will/Aaron had shaved it all off.
I gave up on the bun and settled for a low ponytail before tucking my discarded pajamas neatly back in the suitcase. I felt a little too weird about unpacking my things in here even though there was an empty dresser. I remade the bed and tidied up the few things I had out. I never used to be so neat, Nora and my parents could attest to that.
My need for order was just another thing to come out of my trauma. My former therapist said I craved control over my life and my environment because I’d had it ripped away.
Well no shit.
I dug my sunglasses out of my purse and stuffed a couple dollar bills into my pocket before slipping my feet into a pair of sandals.
Nora was waiting downstairs with a triumphant smile. “We just have to wait for our escort to get here so there’s still someone to keep watch on the house,” she informed me, keeping her voice low enough that it wouldn’t reach Mr. and Mrs. Shaw in the other room.
Mr. Shaw hadn’t taken well to the whole babysitter thing. He was a strong, proud man, insistent that he could protect his own home. Spencer hadn’t argued with him, but still sent his guys, and Mr. Shaw hadn’t said another word about it. I think he accepted it without more of a fight because of Nora and me. I doubted he’d like to know he was being “babysat” even when we were out.
It wasn’t even ten minutes before a black Charger pulled up out front of the Shaw’s, but it wasn’t a Teller man that got out. I watched him out the living room window as he approached Spencer’s man across the road. The window of the big black truck rolled down and they had a very brief conversation before Camden strode back toward the house and up the walkway to the front door where he let himself in.
I stepped away from the window and tried to appear unaffected by his arrival. Then he walked into the house like something right out of a country song that made you think of cold beers and making love in the back of a pick-up on a hot summer night.
Not the direction my thoughts needed to be headed in.
I didn’t even like country music, but he sort of made me want to.
Camo cargo shorts hung low on his hips. A dark grey tee with a beer logo I didn’t recognize hugged his torso just enough that it teased at the tight physique hiding underneath and exposed tanned, muscled arms. His dark hair peeked out from under a frayed and backward baseball cap. He removed the sunglasses that hid his eyes as he shut the door behind him and flashed a perfect smile at the two of us. It was so All-American boy – with a wild side.
“Heard you ladies need a chaperone.” One side of his mouth quirked up a bit more in a crooked grin as his eyes settled on me.
Before Nora or I could get a word out, his mom appeared.
“Oh, Camden, what are you doing here? We didn’t expect to see you so soon. I thought you’d be busy with work.”
“Just wanted to stop by and check in, and bust the girls out of here for a bit.”
“Oh, girls, I’m sorry. I get so caught up in my gardening and keeping up with the house. I didn’t think about how out of your minds with boredom you must be. I’m sure we could arrange to go do something tonight. Maybe go to dinner and see if there’s a show playing somewhere, or a movie. David,” she hollered into the next room. “We need to take the girls out tonight.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” Nora tried to protest but Mrs. Shaw shut her down.
“Nonsense. We could all do with a night out of this house. We shouldn’t let some maniac keep us locked up in fear.”
Her words struck something in me. I wished I could be fearless. I’d give anything to find a way to get past my fears.
“What about going out tonight?” Mr. Shaw appeared behind his wife and joined the discussion. “Oh Camden, didn’t hear you come in. Have you heard anything from your brother?”
>
“I was just with him. Nothing to share right now.”
“Honey, enough about that. The girls and I want to get out of the house tonight.”
“Rebecca, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Mom, Dad’s probably right. Until we know more–”
“I don’t want to hear it. I’m not going to stay cooped up inside this house indefinitely. It’s dinner and one show.”
Both men sighed. She’d put her foot down and that was that.
“Come on, let’s go get the damn ice cream so I can have you two back in time for dinner and a show and I can get to work.”
Camden wasn’t thrilled when he realized our intent was to walk. He grumbled about the heat and how he had a perfectly good set of wheels with AC, but he followed us down the street, occasionally checking and responding to messages on his phone while Nora and I chatted casually.
The ice cream shop was packed with kids and families and groups of teenagers looking for a cold treat and an escape from the heat. I pulled my own sticky shirt away from my skin. We’d only walked six blocks, but the cold air being pumped through the building was a welcome relief.
We got our ice cream and I loaded mine with everything chocolate in sight. Camden handed over his card before Nora or I could get ours out. After he’d paid, we squeezed outside to one of the little umbrella shaded tables. Top forty was being played through speakers hidden somewhere under the building’s awning.
Nora and Camden eased into an effortless banter like they’d been brother and sister their whole lives instead of such a short time. I sat back and enjoyed my death by chocolate, listening to the two of them and studying Camden. I hoped that as I got to know him better, the intrigue would wear off and he would lose his appeal. And it might have if he wasn’t genuinely interesting, smart, funny and several other adjectives I wished he wasn’t. The more he spoke, the more I wanted to listen to every word from his lips.
His lips.
For crying out loud, I could think of a dozen adjectives just for them. First one being kissable. And when his tongue darted out to lick ice cream from the corner of his mouth . . . It was time to call it. I was seriously a goner, head over heels in want. That or heat stroke.
God, I hope it’s just heat stroke.
“Come on, you have to have more crazy stories from your undercover work,” Nora was trying to pry them out of him.
“The whole point of undercover work is that it’s supposed to be secret,” he remained tight lipped, but the hint of a smile tugged at his mouth.
“What would it hurt to tell us about a case that’s already over?”
I mixed my remaining brownie bits with the last few bites of my ice cream and tamped down my own curiosity.
But it piqued right up again when Cam mulled over a bite of his ice cream and leaned back in his chair, giving in. “I guess it wouldn’t really hurt.”
“I’m not sure anything will top the dildo case though,” Nora snickered.”
“Ha. Ha. Well I’ll try. My first big undercover case actually involved the Hell’s Angels. Nothing like jumping right into the deep end.” He proceeded to fill us in on how he’d spent three months working the case, gathering evidence getting close to the bikers, before helping to bust the chapter here in Spokane. It was all part of an attempted nation-wide takedown of the infamous biker gang.
The way he told the story was like something that could be made into a movie, especially when he lifted up the hem of his shirt to reveal a pink, puckered scar on his side where he’d taken a bullet during the bust. There was almost even a hint of pride in his eyes when he showed off his battle wound.
I was sure it wasn’t his only scar. His body could, no doubt, tell all sorts of stories, and as long as he did the job he did, there would be more. Just one more reason not to let my interest in him go any further. I was trying to live danger-free these days and Camden Shaw may as was well have that word tattooed on his forehead.
Before story time could go any further, Nora’s phone rang and she stood up to excuse herself. “It’s my parents. I’m sure they just want to check in.” She took the call and walked away from the music.
Then it was just me sitting there, pretending to be captivated by my melting ice cream while I felt Camden’s gaze burning me up. I risked a glance at him and our eyes locked. His were unreadable, but I was sure he had no trouble seeing inside my head. I’d never been very good at wearing a poker face. It left me feeling uncomfortable and exposed.
Hoping to distract him from whatever had him staring so intently, I asked about his current case. “I know you said you can’t really talk about it, but the case you’re working now, is it as dangerous as that first one?”
“Impersonating a scumbag to catch other scumbags is always dangerous. Generally, they don’t want to go to jail. So if I get caught, they’re not going to be too forgiving, but yeah, the case I’m working now has a pretty high risk level. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat that to my mother.”
“It must be hard on her what you and your brother do.”
“It is, but I know she’s proud also.” Of course she was. Her sons were freaking super-heroes.
“I’m sure she is, but I doubt that makes her worry any less.” I knew the way my mother had worried after my brother when he was deployed. If he was really going to work with Spencer at Teller Corp, it would be the same.
“Yeah, but I think she got used to it with Dad. And they could tell from an early age that neither Spence nor I were ever going to end up in boring desk jobs.”
“I guess the whole super-hero complex must run in your family.”
He grinned and scraped the last bit of ice cream from his cup. “Something like that.”
“So, without giving away details, can you tell me what your case is about?”
His brow furrowed in thought before smoothing out. “Well, let’s say there are a group of very bad men who have funny accents, like to drink a lot of vodka and are quite at home in the colder winter weather here.”
Oh, he was talking about Russians.
“And let’s say these very bad men deal in dangerous things and are looking to start dealing in even less savory merchandise, the living kind.”
“Like prostitutes?”
“Like sex slaves.”
Oh.
“Yeah, that look on your face is exactly right.”
“And so, how does someone like you stop them?”
“Easy. I make myself someone they need. I make them seek me out instead of the other way around.”
“And what do they need?”
“They need somewhere they can peddle their drugs and hookers. And access to easy prey. And I give them that.”
“How?”
“There are a few businesses that are ideal for that sort of thing, can you take a guess?”
“Uh, I guess they’d want somewhere with easy targets, so somewhere with alcohol. Like a bar.”
“Or a club.”
“So, you give them access to a club?”
“Exactly. Right now my nights are spent managing one.”
“I’ve heard, or I guess I’ve just seen in movies that men like those are pretty– I guess exclusive is the word I’m looking for. How do you get in if you’re not, you know, one of them?”
“Normally that would be a problem. They don’t typically trust outsiders. But because they need me, need my club for their business, I don’t have to be ‘in’ their organization. That’s where my cover comes into play. The department sets me up with a whole backstory that makes me exactly the kind of guy they want to work with.
“Everything about my cover, from the way I dress, to how I speak, hell even the way I walk, is intended to make me seem like the perfect bitch, so to speak, for the Russians. Competent enough to get shit done, but someone they think they can control and manipulate.
“Then, once my cover has been created, the department sets me up with a job meant to bring the bad guys to me.
A cover is always stronger if I don’t have to go to them. That right there automatically creates suspicion, more so than if they think it was their idea to use me. In this case we got lucky with the perfect opportunity to do that.
“These guys have been trying to open their own club in the city for the last two years, but Spokane is also home to a very influential family. You may have heard of Cunningham Media, or seen their name on any one of the many buildings they own. They have a lot of money and power. On the surface they appear to be just like your Kardashians or Kennedys.
“They own broadcasting stations, newspapers, real estate, you name it, but they have their own shady ties and rumors of corruption running as deep as the Department of Justice. Supposedly, they even have congressmen and senators in their pocket.
“Basically they own Spokane and have made themselves pretty untouchable. They don’t appreciate any other organizations operating in their city, so they can keep the Russians from getting the licenses they need to open a club anywhere within fifty or probably even one-hundred miles of here. If the bad guys can’t open their own club, they have to go somewhere else.”
“To you. So how did you become the manager or whatever of this club?”
“We have our ways. The FBI and DEA are both in on this and fortunately a few things fell into place with a little pushing. Hell, the Cunninghams may even be behind the task force targeting the Russians.”
“I see. So why are you telling me all this? This is way more than I thought you would share. Will you get in trouble?”
He rocked back in his seat, casually folding his arms behind his head. “Who’s going to know I told you?”
“No one, I guess.”
“That’s right.” He leaned forward more seriously. “I trust that you get why you can’t talk about this or share anything I just told you.”
“Then why did you tell me? How do you know I’m not a huge blabber mouth and that I won’t go online and blog everything you just said?”
Tears of Blue (Shades of Death Book 2) Page 7
