Here Comes Trouble

by Anna J. Stewart

  “What?”

  “Just stop.” Nathan ducked into the unit beside her, eyes pinned on the thin red wire running from the switch plate all around the perimeter of the door.

  “What’s that?” But she knew from her brother’s expression and lack of color on his face that the answer wasn’t going to be good. “Nathan?”

  “Out. Get out. Now.”

  Her brain shut down as he stepped into the hall and drew her with him. The second they were clear of the unit, she heard a click. Loud. Quick.

  Nathan looked at her. She blinked at him. Time slowed. The click echoed in her ears.

  “Run!” Nathan bellowed, all but pulling her arm out of its socket as he yanked her out.

  They ran into the office, barely clearing the computer station before the first explosion hit. She dived forward as a blast of fire erupted behind them and the entire building exploded.

  Heat blazed around her, smoke filled her eyes, her mouth, coated her lungs as she heaved and tried to breathe. The dead weight of Nathan on top of her sent her into a momentary panic until she felt him roll off her.

  “Son of a bitch,” he blasted. “What the hell?”

  “What?” Sheila’s ears were ringing, and she smelled burning fabric. Nathan slapped at her arms as smoke cascaded off her in plumes. “I can’t hear—”

  Tires screeched as the headlights of the SUV barreled around and into the driveway. Sheila scrambled to her feet, helped haul Nathan up. She pulled open the door, pausing to look into Malcolm’s furious face. “Get in!”

  Chapter Eleven

  She jumped into the front seat of the SUV as Nathan scrambled into the back.

  “Reverse,” Malcolm yelled, angling his gaze to the gearshift. “I can only bend that way so many times.”

  Only then did she remember his hand was still attached to the headrest behind her. “Shit.” She grabbed the gear, shifted it, and braced herself before she plowed into the dashboard.

  “Drive.”

  She shifted again and the car lurched forward, tires spinning as he sped toward the parking lot. This time she didn’t have to be told to shift into park as sirens sounded in the distance. Malcolm reached out and grabbed the back of her neck. “Down.”

  She ducked, closing her eyes as the pressure of his fingers eased. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her ears hurt, her entire body hurt. But she was alive. Coughing, she choked and poked her head up high enough to check on her brother. “Nathan?”

  “I’m okay.” Her brother coughed. “A bit crispy, but okay.”

  Spinning lights and screeching brakes accompanied the sirens as emergency vehicles sped past. “We’re clear.” Malcolm’s voice shot through her head like a bullet. She saw diner customers flood outside drawn by the sound of sirens, their attention focused on the fireball of a storage unit across the street. He bent close to her ear. “Cut. Me. Loose.”

  “There’s a knife in the glove compartment,” Nathan wheezed as Sheila scrambled for the latch.

  She flicked open the knife, sliced through the tie, but before she could put it back, Malcolm reached out and hauled her to his side, squeezing her so hard whatever breath she had disappeared.

  “Don’t you ever do that again.” He stroked her hair, his voice hot in her ear. As she clung to him, she could have sworn she felt him shake, and when she tried to pull away, he tightened his hold. “Not yet. Give me a minute.”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered, trying not to notice how warm and secure he felt. How taut and oh, so toned. Not good. Really not good. “Malcolm, let go. I’m okay.”

  “I’m okay, too,” Nathan called from where he was prone. “In case anyone was wondering.”

  “Shut up,” Malcolm shot at him. “Just shut the hell up.”

  But his arm loosened and Sheila was able to sit back in the passenger seat, unsteady and more shaken than she wanted to admit. She folded her hands together to stop them from trembling as her ears continued to ring.

  “Do you two have any idea what it was like to watch that place go up?”

  “Not really, no.” This time Sheila couldn’t stop the giggle from erupting. She covered her mouth, shook her head as Malcolm aimed a furious look at her. “I’m sorry.” She tried to stop, but when Nathan started, it got worse. “Shock,” she managed as tears burned her eyes. “Delayed reaction.” She choked, which set off another bout. There had been a time not so long ago she’d wanted more excitement in her life. “Why don’t you drive?”

  “Would have served you guys right if I’d left you there.”

  “Nah, you’d never do that.” Nathan aimed a slap toward Malcolm’s shoulder, missed, and grazed his arm.

  “It crossed my mind,” Malcolm growled.

  “No, it didn’t,” Sheila said, wiping her eyes and trying not to notice when her fingers came away black with soot. “I must look a sight.” She flipped down the visor and blinked at her reflection. “Lord, if the Miss California judges could see me now.”

  “They’d say you both got what you deserved.” Malcolm backed out of the parking space and drove well under the limit onto the highway. “At least tell me you found something.”

  “Oh.” Sheila slapped her hands against her torso and glanced at her brother. “Do you have it?”

  “Yep.” He patted his jacket, but instead of sitting up, he stretched out as best he could and closed his eyes. “Catch him up. I’m just going to take a nap.”

  “Nathan?” She scrambled onto her knees, reaching to check for blood or injuries.

  “I’m fine.” He smacked her hands away. “It’s just an adrenaline crash and sensory overload. Let me be for a while.”

  “I should make a citizen’s arrest,” Malcolm muttered as Sheila resumed her seat and hooked her belt. “Drive you straight to the police station and—”

  “Tell them what? You caught us flying out of a storage facility before it blew up?”

  “Think they won’t believe me?”

  “I know when you’re bluffing.” She’d scared him. And as much as she didn’t like the fear she’d seen on his face, she couldn’t ignore the thrill of excitement . . . and expectation . . . that zinged through her.

  “How about I call your father?” His jaw flexed as he rested his head on his hand, peered into the oncoming headlights. “He’s called you at least three times since your little escapade. I bet that’s him again.” He jerked a thumb toward her phone lying on the floor beside her purse when it rang. “But you wouldn’t know that because you turned your Bluetooth off, didn’t you?”

  She gulped and pulled out her earpiece. Oops. “Hold that thought,” she said and reached for her phone. Sure enough, she saw her father’s number. “Hi, Dad. You, um, home from your trip?”

  She saw Malcolm’s jaw clench in the dim light of the car.

  “Funny story about tonight,” she plowed ahead before she lost the nerve. “I know you wanted us to wait for you, but Nathan and I did a little recon mission to try to find the paintings, and, well, we ran into a bit of an issue.”

  “Your father knows about this?” Malcolm bellowed and Nathan grumbled. “Give me that phone.”

  “No, wait, Malcolm.” But it was too late. He’d snatched the phone out of her hand. “Dammit.” This was so not what she needed. She slumped in her seat like a grounded teenager.

  “Jackson, it’s Malcolm. Yeah, well, it’s been an interesting evening.” He glared at her. “Since I think it slipped Sheila’s mind to tell you, you should know I’ve been recruited to the team.”

  Sheila groaned and covered her face with her hands.

  “I couldn’t agree more. Yes, we have a lot to discuss. I’m in the presidential suite at the Empire. We should be there in about ninety minutes.” He paused, glanced at Sheila, then in the rearview mirror at Nathan. “Yeah. We’ll wait for you. They’re fine, Jackson. They s
houldn’t be, but they are. Right. Ninety minutes.”

  “You suck,” Sheila said as she pocketed her phone. “I would have told him.”

  “I have every right to be angry with you,” Malcolm said.

  “Did tattling to my father make you feel better?”

  “No, because your father didn’t only sound angry, he sounded scared. Jesus, Sheila, what have you guys gotten into?”

  “It’s not like we expected the place to blow up,” Sheila muttered. “Why on earth would your father have wired his unit with explosives?”

  “Paranoia? Insurance claim? Who the hell knows? Let’s add that to the list of discussion topics, shall we? Beginning with—”

  “Do me a favor and wait until we’re at your place?”

  “So help me, if you’re working on coming up with some story to get you out of telling me the truth . . .”

  “No stories,” she said. “No lies, I promise.” And she meant it. “You held up your part of the bargain.” Not to mention he’d saved their butts. “You deserve the real story. All of it. But as I told you the other day, it’s not only my story to tell.”

  “But I’m not letting either one of you out of my sight until I’ve heard it all.”

  “In that case.” Nathan sat up and poked his soot-coated blond head between the seats. “Any chance we could stop for burgers? I’m starved.”

  ***

  “Is everyone all right?” Veronica was holding the door open to Malcolm’s suite as they exited the elevator. “Malcolm? Sheila? What’s going on?”

  “You do not want to know.” Malcolm corralled Sheila and Nathan inside and slammed the door. He tossed the three bags of grease-infused fast food onto the dining table by the window. “Trust me, Veronica, you need plausible deniability.”

  “I’m your lawyer, not theirs.” She padded after him, her flip-flops slapping on the hardwood floor, haphazard ponytail bopping on the back of her head. The small-frame glasses perched on the tip of her nose made her look more college student than experienced lawyer. “One thing’s for sure, this town is not boring. Hello.” Malcolm gnashed his teeth as Veronica introduced herself to Nathan, who despite looking like a chimney sweep from Mary Poppins returned the feminine purr of a greeting with his typical wink and smile.

  “Nathan Tremayne.”

  “You certainly are.” Veronica pursed her lips and looked him up and down as if he were a hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Let’s play the dating game another time, shall we?” Malcolm suggested.

  “Ignore him,” Veronica said with a wave of her fingers. “He gets cranky when he doesn’t get his two hours of moping in.” Veronica’s friendly smile dipped as she trained her sights on Sheila. “Oh, that beautiful dress. And your hair.” She walked over and skimmed her fingers down Sheila’s ash-caked blond curls. “Here.” Veronica picked up a stack of folded clothes—simple jeans and a T-shirt as far as Malcolm could tell—and handed them over. “Malcolm asked if I could loan you something for tonight.”

  “So I heard,” Sheila said, and Malcolm wondered if he was imagining the tinge of envy in her voice. “Thank you.”

  “He led me to believe you’d be here for a while, so I tossed in some toiletries.”

  If the envy had been there, it vanished beneath the droop of grateful eyes. “That was a nice thought.”

  “Master bath’s through there.” Malcolm pointed to his bedroom. “Guest shower’s there,” he told Nathan with a jerk of his chin. “I’d get cleaned up before your father gets here otherwise you might give him a heart attack.”

  “Dad’s stronger than you think,” Sheila said, but when Malcolm aimed a furious look in her direction, she ducked her head and disappeared behind closed doors.

  “You know, I’m feeling a little woozy.” Nathan dropped an expectant gaze on Veronica, who gave him such a knowing crooked grin Malcolm repressed a chuckle. “Any chance you’d like to scrub my back?”

  “Tempting an offer as that is”—Veronica gripped Nathan’s shoulders, turned him around, and pushed him into the bathroom—“I don’t think you’re up to taking me on right now.” She shoved him one more step and pulled the door closed before swinging on Malcolm. He stepped aside when she transformed from caretaker to banshee in the blink of an eye. “What in the hell is going on?”

  “My answer hasn’t changed since you asked me two minutes ago.” He went in search of paper plates, popping open cabinet after cabinet. “You don’t want to know.”

  “The last thing you need right now is more stress, and with those two looking like refugees from the Hunger Games, I’d call that stress.”

  “Keep your voice down,” he demanded in as low a register as he could manage. “Or I’ll sue you for breach of attorney-client privilege.”

  “Bugger privilege.” And with those two words, Malcolm realized just how angry—and worried—she was. “Doctor Chapman called me today. As your attorney of record, she thought something catastrophic might have happened to you since you haven’t returned her last call. I had to assure her you were incredibly busy, which she didn’t believe for a second.”

  Malcolm sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Yeah, I know.” And he did. If tonight taught him anything it was he needed to stop postponing reality. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t know. And neither do I. That’s the point.” Veronica stalked over to him and poked a finger hard into his chest. “It’s time you sucked it up and faced whatever it is you have to. I told her you’d call her by four tomorrow afternoon if you didn’t hear from her before. And you’ll bloody well do it because if you don’t I am going to say fuck privilege and demand she give me your test results.”

  “You won’t do that.”

  “Look at my face, Malcolm.” She stood toe to toe with him. “Do you think my law license is more important to me than my best friend?”

  “That’s why you’re my best friend,” he said in an attempt to soften her rabid expression. “Okay, if she calls, I’ll answer, but either way, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

  “She has instructions to let me know if she doesn’t hear from you.”

  “Boy, you’ve just covered everything, haven’t you?”

  “Whatever she says, we’ll get through this, Malcolm. And I’m betting I won’t be the only one willing to stand by your side.”

  Malcolm grabbed hold of Veronica’s upper arms and shifted her out of the way. “You are not to say a word to anyone about any of this, you hear me? Not to Nathan and not to Sheila.”

  “Malcolm.” Her expression shifted to barely contained sympathy mingled with frustration. “She cares about you. They both do. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let you drag them here after . . .” She waved her hands by her side. “Whatever happened tonight. They respect you.”

  “Take what you can get, Veronica. I’ll take the call, but this stays between us.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I love you, too.” He pressed a kiss on the top of her head before pushing her toward the door. “But don’t test me on this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  ***

  “Why do I feel as if I’m an Avenger who’s been ordered to assemble?” Nathan plopped two single In-N-Out burgers along with a container of fries onto a plate and took a seat across from Sheila, who was picking at her own burger. Her stomach rumbled, but she resisted the call.

  “If I can be Iron Man, I’m happy to let you live with that delusion.” Malcolm joined them, sitting beside Sheila and pointed at her undisturbed plate. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat a full meal since I’ve been back. Eat or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

  “Do you know how many calories—”

  “I do, and you can jump off the pageant circuit at any time. I bet you’ve been hungry for over a decade. One burger isn’t going to
kill you.”

  “It might kill me given how tight your jeans are,” Nathan grumbled. “Jesus, Malcolm. How much weight have you lost anyway?” He tugged at his waistband and blew out a breath.

  “Enough that I can afford a few burgers. Jackson? Are you hungry?”

  Sheila looked over at her father, who had taken up sentry duty at the plate-glass window, hands shoved deep into his trousers, silver hair glinting against the black iron ceiling fixture over the dining table. “Dad?”

  Jackson hadn’t said two words since he’d knocked on Malcolm’s door. The last time she’d seen an expression similar to the one he wore now was when they’d gotten word about Catherine’s car accident. The bone-crushing hug he’d given her when she’d strode out of Malcolm’s bedroom looking like a drowned cat a few minutes before had put Malcolm’s panicked reaction in the car to shame. It had taken her at least five murmurings of “I’m okay” before her father released her. And then subjected Nathan to the same embarrassing treatment.

  Jackson turned to face them. “The last few hours have been some of the worst I’ve spent, imagining what had happened, what could have happened by you being so careless. We had a deal.” He focused his anger on Nathan. “We are a team. What we do, we do together. We agree on together. We don’t go off on a whim and blow up buildings that will be the lead story on the morning news.”

  “Been a bit hard to do with your frequent disappearing acts.” Nathan’s observation was made as casually as if they were discussing holiday plans. He’d already demolished one burger and was moving on to the second, but stopped to glance at Malcolm. “What do you have to drink?”

  “Fridge. Help yourself.”

  Sheila recognized Nathan’s indifference as controlled rage and moved to intercept. “I think what Nathan’s saying is—”

  “I’m capable of interpreting your brother’s thoughts, thank you, Sheila.”

  She slumped back, catching Malcolm’s pointed look at her burger. She stuffed the burger into her mouth and took a huge bite, narrowing her eyes at him as if to say, “Happy?”

  “We’re fine, Dad.” Nathan returned with a bottle of water. “Not so sure I can say the same for Malcolm, what with all that healthy food in the fridge.” He shuddered and addressed his father. “Look, I found some useful information on Chadwick and ran with it. That’s what I’m supposed to do, remember?”