Fortunes Fool

by Gale, Eva; D'Arc, Bianca; Kent, Cassidy; March, Selah

  Matt tried to move now and discovered his hands and feet were bound. He lifted his head and was greeted with the end of a nine millimeter barrel. A soft click warned him to stay comfortable on the lumpy bed of pungent garbage and scraps. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find himself needing another hose-down when this was done and over with.

  He cursed himself for allowing Miranda to cloud his judgment. The woman had him so wound up he had forgotten to keep his guard up in order to avoid incidents like this. Some agent he was! Never would he have found himself in this predicament if it weren't for Miss Gypsy.

  He blinked a few times and the blurred image came into focus. The man pointing the gun at him looked like a contorted version of the guy who had caught him with Miranda in the back roomthe night before. Matt tried to formulate some escape plans when a piercing scream made his assailant turn away.

  "I would say don't go anywhere, but it looks like you're all tied up." The big oaf chuckled as he walked away in the direction of the noise, giving a self-congratulatory clap over his own wit.

  Matt waited until the footsteps faded before maneuvering his body. Only a minute's worth of struggle loosened the ropes. "Musta failed Seamanship 101. Fuckin' idiot can't even tie a basic hard knot."

  After a bit more kicking and tugging, he managed to free himself from the restraints. Matt jumped out of the Dumpster and ran straight for the back door. He hoped to hell Miranda hadn't gotten herself into any trouble.

  Matt almost collided with the dopey goon in the alley doorway, but he had the presence of mind to kick the gun out of the man's hand. A solid right hook sent the criminal flying and Matt finished him off with the lid of a nearby trash can.

  Matt figured the man would be out long enough for him to find Miranda and get her out of danger. When he made it inside he found the little vixen wielding a can of pepper spray like a deadly weapon. One of the goons lay on the floor yelping from the pain. A smile of relief spread across his lips at her bravery. He didn't know whether to kiss her or turn her over his knee and teach her a lesson for being so foolish.

  Miranda squealed with delight upon seeing him and flung herself into his arms. Matt gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Now how'd you slip those ropes?" She gave him a mischievous grin. "That was one of the few Girl Scout badges I did earn." Miranda planted a hard smack on his lips and he chuckled. Matt would have to discuss that trick with her later when he had her safely tucked away in his bed.

  "We don't have much time, Miranda. We need to tie up this other buffoon and call for backup." He pried her away from his arms and she nodded in understanding.

  The soft, familiar click of a cocked gun drew their gazes in Edith's direction.

  "You won't be calling anyone," the woman growled. Her kind face had twisted menacingly, while her wild eyes flashed.

  Miranda knit her eyebrows together in confusion. "I don't understand. You're involved?"

  "I'm glad to hear you bought the Nana Edith routine. I've always said that criminals make the best actresses." The woman gave her a mocking smile.

  Miranda's wounded expression increased Edith's delight. "Oh, honey. Don't look so sad. I'm sure death won't be too bad. I'm actually looking forward to it." The older woman raised the weapon and aimed at her chest. "It's a pity, though. You had a lot of potential." Matt stepped in front of Miranda to protect her and Edith gave him a

  hard stare. "Let her go. It's me you want." "Too late for chivalry, my boy. Say goodbye." "Wait." Miranda stepped out from behind Archer. He gave her a look that could kill, wondering what in the hell she was thinking. "You said I had potential."

  Edith raised a silver brow. "Yes, well…I thought my sons had potential." She indicated the crumpled figure on the floor with a nod of her head. "Look how well that turned out."

  Miranda swallowed and took a step toward Edith. "You know I'm nothing like them. I'm smarter, more reliable, more—"

  "Yes, yes, I get it. You're the daughter I should have had. Get on with it, I have a federal agent to kill." Her cackle echoed through the room. "We could be a team, Edith." "What?" Matt bellowed. "Don't you move," Edith commanded, eyeing her Gypsy protégé. Miranda continued, that smoky laugh of hers turned to ice. "I'm just getting the hang of the art of the con." She hooked a thumb back at Matt. "This one half-believed I write romance novels for a living."

  It was Edith's turn to laugh. The sound made Matt's blood run cold and doubt began to set in. "So you want in, eh?"

  "I think I've proven my acting skills." Miranda shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe actresses make the best criminals."

  Matt's heartbeat ratcheted up another level. Could Miranda really turn on him just like that?

  Edith thought on this for a moment, her pale eyes like quicksilver. "You're not blood. Why in the name of hell should I trust you?" Miranda smiled. "Because I'm going to kill you a Fed." "Be my guest, dear. Before you dispatch our hero, however, please be advised that this gun will be trained on your every move. If you so much as think about crossing me, I will not hesitate to murder you." Miranda shrugged. "Of course." "And please. No Mexican stand-off. It's such a cliché." Edith sighed wearily. "Now pick the gun off my worthless heap of a son over there and do what you have to do."

  She did as she was told and whirled around to face Archer. His mind's eye flashed with dozens of intense images of her. Naked in her candlelit room, covering his body with hot wax, rolling around on sheets of counterfeit. And now this final image. Her hazel eyes mocking him over the barrel of a gun. "Now say goodbye," Edith instructed. Miranda's eyes flicked over to Edith and then back to Archer.

  "Goodbye." A shot rang out, whizzing past Matt's ear and ricocheting around the

  room until a groan rose up from the man on the floor. "You little bitch!" she wailed. "You shot my idiot son!" Matt smirked. That's my girl. He jumped out at Edith and chopped at her gun hand directly above the wrist, moving her hand inward and forcing her to drop the gun. "I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of death," he said, looking into her cold, narrow eyes. "So look forward to this."

  Matt whipped a pair of cuffs out of his pocket. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you at interrogation time and at court."

  Miranda followed suit, tying up Edith's sons while Matt stood up and pulled out his cell phone to call for reinforcements. Neither one wanted to take any more chances. "Great," he said. "They put me on hold." He eyed her movements with admiration while listening to the smooth jazz on the line. "That was some diversion, Miss Gypsy. Where'd you come up with that?"

  Miranda shrugged, but glowed with his praise. "I've written a few Westerns in my day. She said no Mexican stand-off, so I went to the next best cliché I could think of."

  Matt shook his head and roared out his appreciative laughter. "You are something else, Miranda Franklin. C'mere." He pulled her against him as they slid down into the corner.

  Miranda laid her head on his shoulder while he trained the gun on Edith and her sons. "Oddly enough, there's no place I'd rather be right now than the dank backroom of a criminal's lair waiting for back-up." Archer kissed her head and smiled. "I know the feeling."

  * * * * "The…freakin'…end!" Miranda jumped up from her desk and did a victory dance in her bathrobe and flip-flops. Two weeks to the day from her exploits with Archer, she had finished the first draft of the manuscript for Illegal

  Tender . Never mind that she hadn't heard from Archer during that time. She could still use his moves to write one hell of a great sex scene between Agent Chad Hartner and his sexy psychic, Samantha.

  Miranda sighed blissfully. All of her worries had melted away with three little words. Three. Book. Deal. Archer was a putz for disappearing like that, but she wouldn't let it get her down. She was a woman who could appreciate great sex and leave it at that. Even if their union had seemed somehow predestined. Mystical. "Enough with mysti
cism. Time for a hard, cold dose of reality." Miranda grabbed the waiting bag of trash from the kitchen and headed out the door. She gave her attire a rueful glance, but told herself no one would be hanging around the alley waiting for her to show up looking like a vagabond.

  She reached the Dumpster and tossed in her trash, whirling around when she heard footsteps behind her.

  "Does that Dumpster make you as misty-eyed as it does me?" Archer looked refreshed. Happy. Miranda tried to ignore her body's surge of remembrance at the sight of his tousled light brown hair and delightful, sarcastic brown eyes. Well, good for him. Meanwhile, her hair was frizzy and her bathrobe was ratty. Great. Miranda narrowed her eyes. "Hardly." "Well, I for one have fond memories of that tin box." "I believe you're referring to the one behind New Elm Street. But

  I'm sure you'd fit well in either," she scoffed. "I've spent some time in both," he replied. Miranda raised an eyebrow. "I'm not even going to ask." "That's a good thing for you and me." He cleared his throat. "Knowing you as I do, which is not very well…" he winked, "I figured you might want to know where I've been for the last two weeks. But you wouldn't ask me, would you, Miranda?"

  "No, I wouldn't." She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around herself. "When a man says 'see you around,' I don't ask questions."

  "I'm going to answer them, anyway." He took a deep breath. "When I arrested you…when I…we took down Edith's sons…I wasn't actually authorized to do it." "Oh, God, I knew it. You're not even a Fed, are you?" Archer's sensual lips curved into a triumphant smile. "Not anymore. I was on suspension during my investigation of Farra's Fortunes. When I brought those thugs in, they reinstated me, but I decided to give my two weeks notice." "Why?" Miranda asked incredulously. "I found that I much preferred to uncover the seedy underbelly of small towns like Elmhaven, rather than go for the gold with all of those competitive assholes up at headquarters. So I'm branching out on my own." He handed her a card. Matthew Archer, Private Investigator. Elmhaven, MA. Miranda's heart skipped a beat. "I'll be able to use a bit more of my, err…unorthodox methods as a

  P.I., anyway." "Would those methods include seduction of your suspects?" He hauled her over to him, bathrobe and all. "Only if they're very

  lucky." Miranda gave him a pseudo-playful punch. "You're so damn full of

  yourself." "So I am," he said. "How about you reform me over a dinner date?" She wrinkled her nose in response. She wouldn't mind giving Archer another chance, but after all that excitement, dinner and a movie just seemed so…Elmhaven. "Okay, then. I've got a stakeout tonight. You interested?" Miranda flung her arms around his neck, grinning as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I'll bring the donuts."

  About the Authors

  A life-long martial arts enthusiast, Bianca D'Arc enjoys a number of hobbies and interests that keep her busy and entertained such as playing the guitar, shopping, painting, shopping, skiing, shopping, road trips, and did we say shopping? A bargain hunter through and through, Bianca loves the thrill of the hunt for that excellent price on quality items, though she's hardly a fashionista. She likes nothing better than curling up by the fire with a good book, or better yet, by the computer, writing a good book. Learn more about Bianca D'Arc and her books at biancadarc.com.Read Bianca's blog at: http://biancadarc.blogspot.com.

  Always an artist, Eva Gale started writing to keep her sanity and instead found her life's passion. She loves thinking up characters and can get happily lost in endless hours of research. Along with other erotic romance stories, she is currently working on a full-length historical romance and paranormal romance. She enjoys reading, hunting for the perfect antique, art shows and gardening. Eva lives in the northeast with her husband and home teaches her 7 children.

  Although she appears every inch the well-behaved wife and mother, in her heart Selah March is a hellion—contrary, hedonistic and, on occasion, more than a touch wicked. Her twin obsessions with eroticism and the supernatural have found a much-needed outlet in fiction. Through the characters in her stories, she gives free rein to a dark sensuality that might otherwise remain hidden away forever...and wouldn't that be a shame?

  A former schoolteacher, Selah resides in the northeastern United States. She holds a B.A. plus graduate credits in English Literature, and is published in short fiction and nonfiction in local and regional magazines and newspapers. She enjoys solitude, long walks after nightfall, and the bracing rigors of a six-month-long winter. For more information, see www.SelahMarch.com.

  As the daughter of an ambassador, Cassidy Kent is no stranger to overstuffed luggage and airport lounge cocktails. She has traveled the world in search of gorgeous men, scandalous situations, and beautiful backdrops and uses all of these as inspiration for the diverse story webs she weaves. Cassidy resides in the City of Angels for now. Her true identity is a mystery that only she and Thaddeus Brighton (her personal assistant extraordinaire) knows… To learn more about Cassidy Kent, please visit her online home at http://www.cassidykent.com.

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