To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella)

by Charles, L. j.

  They shook hands, and Jayne wished for the first time that she had some of Everly’s gift. It would be good to know if she could trust Drew. Really know, and not just depend on his reputation and Parker’s knowledge.

  After he left the conference room, Jayne leaned her on elbows on the table and squared off with Detective Bryant. “Talk to me.”

  “We’ll make a good team. We can learn from each other, and we both want this bastard locked up. Charities, for shit’s sake.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I can’t abide a dirty cop.”

  “I can understand that. Can you get me a shower and some clean clothes?”

  “Better than that, I can get your brother and Parker Steele.”

  “Not until after my shower.”

  “Right. I’m asking them to join us.”

  “So this is going to be a team effort.”

  “Parker Steele can help. He knows more about the inner workings of Steele Management, Inc. than anyone.” She paused. “Your brother will cause more trouble out of the loop than in it.”

  Jayne’s lips curled into a full grin. “Yes. That would be Mitch.”

  Reese gathered the papers from the table and stood. “How about I take you to your new digs?”

  “I assume they come with a shower?”

  “And a lumpy bed, lousy food, and long hours.”

  Jayne took a long drink of water. “Small price for my reputation and integrity.”

  “I thought you’d see it that way.” Reese grinned. “Let’s see if your brother’s had a chance to pick up some clothes and ‘girl stuff’ for you yet.”

  “We’ve been at this long enough he could have moved my whole condo to….where is this place?”

  “Next door,” Reese answered. “There’s a small apartment for special guests.”

  “If my consulting status leaks to the media, I’ll be fair game for whoever killed Tarik.”

  “Honey, you’re already on the killer’s shit list.”

  FOURTEEN

  Everly Gray

  I hit the stairs at full speed, jogged into Detective Bryant’s office, and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk. Away from this building.”

  To her credit, she didn’t ask questions, just grabbed her messenger bag and led me out the back door.

  A brisk wind slapped me in the face when I stepped outside and helped to restore order to my brain. Detective Bryant held the heavy door open until I was clear, then closed it tightly and double-checked that it was locked.

  “My car is right over there, the blue Toyota. How about we grab a coffee at the Bean’ry?”

  “Any place away from Detective Stephens is fine with me, and something hot to drink would be wonderful.” I held my hand up. Still shaking.

  Her brows scrunched together. “I see that. If it helps any, I just got out of a meeting with Ms. Hunt. She’s handling this well.”

  “Is she still under arrest? Have they found any new evidence? Did she ask for Mitch or me? Did—”

  “Hold it. Stop asking because I can’t say anything yet. You’re going to have to trust me—” she shot me a look— “just like I’m trusting an agitated witness who stormed out of a colleague’s office and requested my help.”

  She had a point.

  It took fifteen minutes for us to get settled in a back booth with my palms wrapped around a chai latte, soaking in the warmth. There was a cup of plain green tea sitting in front of Reese Bryant, the cool scent mixing with the spiciness from my chai. It was a happy combination.

  From our brief handshake earlier, I knew I liked the detective. She was straightforward and honest, and I was almost positive she’d hear me out.

  “Talk.”

  Yep. She was direct and to the point.

  “Are you okay with the paranormal?”

  A frown touched her lips, then dissolved. “Difficult-to-explain phenomena, yes. Vampires, no.”

  For the first time since Jayne had been arrested, the knot in my stomach loosened, and I grinned. “I fall into the difficult-to-explain category. Chief Hayes knows about my gift, and I’ve been consulting with Adam Stone, but I’m guessing he told you that.”

  “Yes, but without detail.”

  Okay, then, it was gonna be up to me. “You have a new golden lab puppy who loves to play catch, and your main squeeze is a blond, blue-eyed hunk of goodness. He loves you, by the way.”

  She sipped her tea. “Telepathy? Mind reading?”

  “Nope. Can’t do either. It’s in my fingers. When I touch things, the pads of my fingertips pass images to this internal monitor thing in my head. Can you deal with that?”

  “As long as you don’t touch me without permission, we’ll do fine. But I might need a shot of something stronger than green tea.”

  I’d wasted enough time on the groundwork, dug the paper from my pocket, and laid it on the table between us. “I swiped this—”

  “Do not ev-ver tell me where it came from.”

  “Right. Sorry. This name, Mary Francis Stephens, is key to…well, I’m not sure what…yet. It’s odd how he separated the letters, grouped them differently.” I sucked in a breath. “Bottom line: Mary Stephens is Detective Stephens’s mother and Parker’s aunt. She must have remarried after Joe’s father died, or they were divorced—something happened to give her a different last name. In any case, they’re cousins, Parker and Stephens. And Parker doesn’t know it, um, didn’t recognize him. Whatever.”

  Detective Bryant’s gaze crackled along my skin, and I pushed words out as fast as I could.

  “When I touched the paper, I got an image from my childhood. It was the summer between first and second grade. I was home schooled, so the years sort of blended, but I’m pretty sure I was five and Parker ten. He was just old enough to hate me on sight, so I spent a lot of time alone or with his mother. My parents traveled a lot, and—”

  The shatter of broken glass ripped through my recitation, and I whirled around on the bench seat, expecting to see Stephens standing behind me. He wasn’t. An embarrassed customer stood next to a shattered mug, pale brown coffee stains covering her beige chinos.

  “He won’t find you here, Everly. May I call you Everly?” Detective Bryant’s voice floated through the air, lazy and reassuring.

  “Either Everly or El would be fine. I answer to both. So, how exactly do you know Stephens won’t walk through that door any minute?”

  “I know things.”

  In the interest of time, I let that one go but paid the price of muffling my curiosity with the beginnings of a headache. “Parker’s mother and mine were good friends. Well, until that summer. After that, we never went to their house again.”

  I paused, rummaging in my handbag for my cell. “We need to talk to Parker.”

  Detective Bryant stayed my hand. “Not yet. Give me a chance to work on it—”

  “If I don’t let him know where I am, he’ll panic. We don’t want that, but I can keep it brief and just let him know our location without adding any details.”

  She nodded.

  I texted Parker.

  And then Mitch. Am with Det. Bryant. You?

  His reply was immediate. At J’s condo getting stuff for her to wear. Can U help?”

  “Mitch is getting clothes for Jayne. I didn’t think…well, I figured her wardrobe would be limited to an orange jumpsuit,” I said, typing.

  Mtg. Impt. Can’t leave. Love you.

  “No. She doesn’t get to wear our latest fashion ensemble unless she’s denied bail and jailed. Now, how about you back up a bit, Everly? Why did your parents place you with Steele’s family?”

  “No clue why they chose the Steeles. One of them usually stayed home with me when the other traveled, but that summer was different. They were away at the same time, and needed to stash me someplace for a few weeks.” I waved my hands, wanting to get on with it. “That part isn’t really relevant.”

  Detective Bryant nodded for me to continue.

  “I picked up t
wo scenes from this piece of paper.” I flicked it with my nail. “And they were both from that infamous summer. Surprised the heck out of me, seeing myself in an image. In the first scene, my mother handed Caroline Steele a small, wooden box. Their conversation was heated, strained. From memory, I can add that I didn’t understand what was going on. I only knew I should stay hidden behind the sofa.”

  “Let me catch up.” Detective Bryant held her hand up, stopping my info dump. “What does this box have to do with Jayne Hunt?”

  “Nothing, per se. But it might clear her of suspicion in Tarik’s murder. In the second scene—I think it must have been a few weeks later—Caroline Steele and Mary Francis Stephens fought over money. Caroline married a wealthy man, Mary didn’t, and she believed that whatever was in the box was worth a lot. She wanted that box.”

  I worried that thought for a minute, stalling my dissertation with a swallow of latte. “Joe Stephens was there when they were arguing. I think he might have recognized me since Everly isn’t the most common name. Anyway, that could be why he’s giving me such a hard time. He wants to know what I remember. But more than that, I don’t understand why he’s been assigned to his cousin’s case.”

  “If Chief Hayes knew they were related, he wouldn’t be on the case. You haven’t given me much to work with here, El, and we didn’t get to finish our conversation before Detective Stephens yanked you from my office. Whatever you saw when you shook his hand must have been startling for you to voluntarily leave with him…”

  I cringed, the skin on my face tightening. “The images hit fast, and they were blurry. I’m about to make an accusation, Detective Bryant—”

  “Reese.”

  “Reese, it is. I have nothing to back up my accusation, but I believe the images I saw were of Emir Tarik talking with Detective Stephens, and then a second one of Stephens manipulating a spreadsheet from Steele Management, Inc. on his laptop.”

  “How accurate are your visions, El?”

  “Usually they’re right on, but sometimes it’s difficult to tell how they fit together. The thing is, I’ve never seen Adam do department work on his personal computer. I know this isn’t much to go on, but I intend to take it to Chief Hayes, and, well, is there anything you can do to help me convince him Jayne needs a new law enforcement team?”

  “Adam requested that I help you in any way I can, and I’m going to give it my best shot. Homicide isn’t my specialty, but there are a lot of leads I can follow with the information you’ve given me, so I’ll need a few hours. Can you lay low until I come up with something definitive to give the chief?”

  I could, but I knew that neither Mitch nor Parker would buy into that plan.

  FIFTEEN

  Parker Steele

  Parker slammed his hand against the metal push plate on the front door of the Bean’ry with enough force to irritate an old rotator cuff injury. He strode inside, shifted his shoulder, and felt his muscles bunch beneath his shirtsleeve. He needed to do some of that yoga stuff. A cool, proactive mind would help Jayne more than pissed off reactions.

  He whipped his sunglasses off, scanned the room, and spotted Everly with some woman having a cozy chat over coffee. His blood burned hot, exploded into rage. So much for the cool, proactive approach.

  The dark-haired woman caught his gaze and her eyes narrowed. She spoke directly to Everly, but her words carried, hitting his ears, fueling his anger. “Well, damn. I wasn’t ready to add another civilian to this mess quite yet.”

  The woman pushed her cup aside, stood, and faced him head-on. “I’m Detective Reese Bryant, Mr. Steele. Let’s talk.”

  Parker leveled his gaze at the detective. “Drew tells me you’ve cut a deal with Jayne but that she’s still being held. I don’t like it. Detective Stephens is unavailable, and I find you sharing a cuppa with magic fingers here.”

  Reese arched an eyebrow.

  Everly chugged the rest of her latte, slid out of the booth, and pushed past Parker. “You’re being a jerk, Parker.” She dropped the empty cup in the trash with a whoosh of attitude, and stormed outside, the air around her bristling with redheaded indignation.

  “I believe we should join Everly, Mr. Steele. This is no place for our conversation.”

  Parker pushed through the door behind Bryant. Watching Everly’s pseudo tantrum was almost enough to curb his fury. She was so like Jayne in her ability to take control of a situation with nothing but insolence. He wanted Jayne back. His woman safe. No scars—emotional or physical.

  Detective Bryant joined Everly, slipping her a corner-of-the-eye glance that clearly tossed Parker and his black mood into Everly’s hands. But her magic fingers weren’t going to work this time. He wanted Jayne out of jail. Now.

  Everly whipped around to confront him, and then cupped his face in her hands. He felt the fight drain from her body, a visible shift in her stance and softening of her face.

  “I know you love Jayne. Really. Love. Her. And I get that it’s making you crazy, but we need you to focus here. Jayne needs you to focus.”

  Parker jerked away from her hands, escaping those damn fingers that could see into his soul.

  She dragged in an audible breath and braced her hands on her hips. “I like you, Parker, and apparently childhood ties are binding, because I’m about to step into the steaming pile of mental manure that’s taken over your brain.”

  His eyes narrowed, a cloud of indignation brewing in his gut.

  She continued, apparently oblivious to the silent warning. “Detective Joe Stephens is your cousin, your aunt Mary Francis’s son. He was Joe Francis back when, but I’m guessing your Aunt Mary had a second marriage, and he took her new name.”

  Poleaxed. The shock hit him head-on. Memories and emotions cut through his scattered plan of attack then fell into place with a resounding thud.

  Everly nudged Detective Bryant. “First time I’ve ever seen someone’s thoughts conveyed so clearly without speech.” Then the women exchanged some kind of silent communication that set Parker’s back teeth on edge.

  “Yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Second marriage. We rarely saw them, and I haven’t seen Joe since that summer you stayed with us, when your parents were in—”

  “South America. Mom was working on a dig and my dad…I actually don’t know what he was doing, but it had to do with his job. Do you remember anything else about those weeks, Parker?”

  “Hold up.” Bryant’s voice halted any further nostalgic problem solving. “Trouble at four o’clock.”

  Detective Joe Stephens squealed his nondescript department ride to a stop not three feet from the trio.

  Everly grabbed Parker’s arm, her fingernails leaving four half-moon marks on his skin. “Too soon to confront him. Don’t say anything. Find your inscrutable mask, and do not let it slip.”

  Searching for control, Parker dug his heels into the ground hard enough to leave dents in the blacktop.

  Stephens shot from his car, leaving the engine running, and studiously avoiding Parker. “Well, if it isn’t the elusive Ms. Gray. I believe we have a conversation to finish, preferably in my office.”

  Everly shook her head, wrinkling her forehead into a semi-confused expression. The woman could use some lessons in inscrutable.

  “I can’t imagine what we have to talk about, Detective Stephens. I thought we covered everything before my unfortunate panic attack.”

  Parker blinked. Everly? Panic attack? Not bloody likely.

  “No, Ms. Gray, we didn’t cover everything.” He whirled on his heel, stomped to his car, leaned in, and pulled out a clipboard.

  There was a picture attached. A photo of… “Is that me?” Everly’s voice held the uncomfortable screech of a cat in heat. She reached for the clipboard.

  Stephens snatched it out of her hands, loosened the photo, and gingerly held it by the top edge—right in front of her face. Intimidation at its worst.

  Parker snapped the photograph from Stephens’s fingers, the edge
gritty against his skin. “You pulled this from the video feed at Steele Management.”

  Stephens glared, then held out the clipboard—a silent command to return the photograph. “Looks like Ms. Gray knows more than she’s sayin’.”

  Parker placed the picture under the clip, and gave it a tap with his index finger. “Be careful with your accusations, Detective.”

  Everly closed her eyes, and blew out the mother of all sighs. “What exactly is it you’re trying to say, Detective Stephens?”

  “It’s clear you had your hands all over Emir Tarik’s neck.” His lips smoothed into a slimy, smug smile.

  “Hardly all over. I checked for a pulse.”

  Parker shook his head. “Enough. Not another word, Everly, unless Drew is present.”

  Stephens backed off. “Bring your attorney to my office, Ms. Gray. Sometime today would be good.” He tossed the clipboard on the passenger seat of his car, climbed in, and peeled out of the parking lot, the engine of his police-issue revving.

  Everly grinned. “There’s way too much adolescent in that boy. Must be left over from when you beat him in every sport, Parker. Wonder why he’s so fixated on Tarik’s neck?”

  Reese Bryant cleared her throat. “How about y’all meet me at the station? And plan for a long afternoon.”

  Parker, Mitch and Everly gathered around Jayne in the sitting area of her new digs. Soft jazz played from an iPod station, and they had made fast work of a platter of sandwiches and bowl of potato chips.

  Jayne grinned at her support team. “Glad you all could make it to my first impromptu party here at Apex PD Central. It’s not your gourmet restaurant, but a world better than the holding cell.”

  Parker stuffed the last bite of a ham on rye into his mouth and squeezed Jayne’s hand, the rough edge of his fingers a sharp contrast to her smooth skin. Odd. His fingers hadn’t caught against her skin last night. To the contrary, they’d slid over her curves, leaving him hot and hungry for more. He yanked his gaze from the shimmer of her shirt, the way it hugged her curves, to examine his hand.