Re/Viewed

by Michele Zurlo

  Liam studied the reports, matching them with photos. “Where did the photos come from?”

  “They appeared on my desk this morning. Forensics found nothing—no fingerprints, fibers, DNA, or anything that would help us narrow down the source of the envelope or photo paper. There’s no post mark, so it wasn’t mailed, though it’s stamped by our internal routing system.” She clenched her fists at her sides. “I ran surveillance tapes at each location and found nothing. I already have a team working on finding out how this got into the building in the first place.”

  A very important step was missing from this equation. “But how did you link them to the thefts? It looks like a stalker.”

  “Right now, it is a stalker.” Brandy closed her eyes and exhaled a steadying breath. “Several of the stolen items have been left on my porch over the past few days. I thought it was weird, so I came in this morning to do some digging. I had bagged the items, and I planned to run them through forensics. But when I saw the pictures on my desk, I ran the places through the system and came up with these hits.”

  Avery scowled. “Why didn’t you call us this morning?”

  Liam knew why. They’d worked for two weeks straight without having time off, and she’d given them a few days to recuperate and see their loved ones.

  “I wanted to be sure,” Brandy said. “I’m sure. You have your assignments.”

  Avery and Jordan sorted through the pictures, grabbing the ones that corresponded with their cases. Jed snagged the ones that went with the cases Liam and he had been assigned, and they sorted the unassociated ones into a third pile.

  Liam stood. “I’ll call Tru to let her know that she can cancel the reservation at Zangari’s.”

  “No.” Brandy had been helping sort. She nailed him with a determined glare. “This fucker is not going to derail our investigation. Just tell her that you’ll be a day or two late. You and Jed will do as much as you can, and then Avery, Jordan, and I will handle the rest. I’ve tapped Keith Rossetti and Lexee Hardy for help as well.”

  Liam had worked with both Keith and Lexee before, and he trusted them to go balls-out on this. However one of their own was being targeted. He wanted to bring the bastard down.

  But as much as Liam hated the idea of leaving when his friend and colleague was in danger, he knew that Brandy was right—they couldn’t let this stop them from doing their job. This may very well be related. If anything, it underscored that they were onto something.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tru held her phone in her hand, staring at the dark, sleeping screen so hard that she jumped when it rang. Her heart raced, but it calmed when Poppy’s name showed on the screen. “Hey.”

  “Have your knights in shining armor showed yet?”

  Tru sighed. “No. They’re only two days late, so I haven’t given up hope yet. Worst case scenario, I’m in for a weekend visit with Alex and Jewell. It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen them.”

  Poppy gave a disgusted snort. “If they showed up now, I’d piss on their armor with them inside and hope it rusts shut.”

  Wrinkling her nose at the imagery, Tru said, “I don’t think they’re into that kind of stuff. Besides, I’ve been having fun without them.”

  Put-In Inn was everything its webpage said it was. The charming, seaside bed-and-breakfast had the obligatory nautical theme, and since it was located at the heart of the harbor, the ocean was very accessible. The inn kept several boats in the nearby marina, and they also rented out their single yacht in 3-hour increments. Additionally they offered classes in sailboarding, surfing, and cooking the catch of the day—which they purchased from local fishermen. Fisherpersons. People who fish. Tru made a mental note to look up the gender-neutral term for fishermen.

  About a mile down the road—walking or biking distance—was a narrow strip of sand that the locals called a beach. It was good for the usual beach activities, and the inn provided picnic lunches to patrons who wanted to spend the day at the beach.

  It would have been the perfect place to meet up with Liam and Jed, but the bastards hadn’t shown up yet, and she was due to leave the next day. “They’re working a case. They call every day to check in.” They’d called one time each day together, putting her on speaker so she could hear them both, and then each of them called her separately as well. Since they hadn’t intruded on each other’s calls, she figured they’d designated times. Tru was impressed by how well they worked together.

  Poppy, though, was less impressed. “They don’t seem all that reliable.”

  They weren’t. Their jobs made them unreliable in their personal lives, which was fine as long as they never established expectations to the contrary, which they hadn’t. “They’re making the world a safer place. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like we’re dating. I’m just helping them with their cover.”

  “I’m not stupid.” A loud clanging crash came through the phone. “Son of a bitch.” Poppy moved the phone so that her next words were muffled, but Tru heard them anyway. “Motherfucker, get out of my store. If I catch you in here one more time, I’ll hang you from the roof by your dick!”

  The threat didn’t shock Tru, but the fact that Poppy had hurled it at an apparent customer did. “Poppy? Is everything okay?”

  Muffled noises and the sound of something scraping against the phone greeted her question. After a minute, the sound of shop bells tinkled. “I’m back. Stupid twat waffle has been in here every day this week, and he’s knocked something down each time. I’m going to beat the shit out of him if he comes back.”

  “Yes, and dangle him from the roof by his winkie.”

  Poppy laughed. “That might be too good for him. Where were we? Oh—I’m not stupid. You like these guys.”

  She did like Jed and Liam. “Yeah, but they said I didn’t have to have sex with them for the undercover part. They’ve moved on.”

  “Don’t pull this crap with me, Gertrude Hazel Martin. I’ve known you forever, and I know what you’re doing. You’re running away from two guys just because you like them. You’re chicken shit when it comes to relationships.”

  Though Poppy wasn’t wrong, Tru opted to obfuscate. “You just said I should pee on their armor and hope it rusts shut with them inside it.”

  “I was kidding. Solidarity, sister. You’re upset, so I’m upset for you. I just happen to be the kind of brat who would make them pay for making me wait, whereas you’re the kind of passive-aggressive person who’ll say it’s all right, but inside, you’ve written them off as not worth your time. In essence, you’re pushing them out of your life.”

  Arguing wouldn’t get her anywhere, but that was never a reason to give up. “They’re not in my life.”

  “I think you should tell them that you want sex to be part of the deal. You’re smart. You’ll think up some good reasons, create a great supporting argument, bat your long eyelashes at them, and they’ll be eating out of your pussy in no time.”

  Tru laughed. “Maybe I’ll tell them that I’m open to negotiating different limits.”

  “You do that.” Poppy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “It’ll be just like those ménage romances you love to read.”

  “You love them too.”

  “And?”

  “And don’t make it sound like I’m the only perv in this conversation.”

  Both women laughed, and then Poppy launched into a narrative about the idiot she’d thrown out of the store.

  Tru had spent the morning at the beach. She’d swum in the frigid ocean, waded in the cold shallows, and walked along the shore until the beach became too rocky for her bare feet. When Poppy had called, she’d been lounging on a towel, soaking up the warmth of the sun. Once she finished chatting with her best friend, she packed up her things and slung her huge bag over one shoulder.

  The path to the inn ran along the road. Tru would have preferred it to follow the water, but nobody had asked her when they’d planned out the path. “People should consult me on things,” she mum
bled. “I have great ideas.” Tomorrow, for example, she’d booked a slot at a base jumping place. Not long after she’d gone for her first dive, she’d stumbled across more extreme sports. She’d been on the fence about whether she should train to base jump or go bungee jumping, but when she’d research both options, she’d found lots of problems associated with bungee jumping—like blindness, for one. Base jumping, by comparison, seemed positively safe. And so she’d begun working toward this goal. It had taken years for her to accumulate the training she needed, and now it was time to check base jumping off her bucket list.

  She started down the road to find her path blocked by two attractive men wearing shorts, tropical-print cotton shirts, and sandals.

  “Hey there, princess.” Jed took off his sunglasses and held out his arms. “Did you miss me?”

  She had missed him, but she wasn’t going to run into his arms. Yeah, she was passive-aggressive all right. Poppy had nailed that one.

  “Hi, Tru.” Liam leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “Can I carry your bag?” As he was already sliding the strap from her shoulder, his question was more of an order.

  Some of her residual anger disappeared. It wasn’t their fault they’d been detained. She handed over the bag. “Did your investigation go okay?”

  Jed smooched her other cheek. “Investigation? We’re mere office workers. I’m in human resources, and Liam is the head of I.T.”

  They hadn’t divulged the details of the cover story, so she had avoided telling Alex anything other than she’d met two Doms and she wanted to bring them to Zangari’s. Alex, no doubt, was under the impression that she was looking for his opinion on her Doms. Tru wasn’t sure whether she wanted his two cents or not. Alex was her friend, and he would keep her best interest in mind. But he wouldn’t sugarcoat anything, and he wouldn’t hold back if he had something to say that she didn’t care to hear.

  Since neither of them chimed in to answer her question, she figured they couldn’t discuss the case—which meant it was an active investigation. She was learning. “Well, I hope everybody is okay.”

  “They’re fine.” Liam looked over his left shoulder at the small parking strip for the beach. “The bus won’t be here for another hour.”

  She scoffed. “The inn is only a mile away. We can walk. That is, if you’re up to the physical exertion.” She motioned to the bag. “If it’s too heavy, I can carry that.”

  Liam looked at Jed. “I say we institute mandatory spanking for when she gets snarky.”

  Jed considered the idea, but then he rejected it. “She’d like it too much for it to be a punishment.”

  “True. We’ll have to come up with something else.”

  Though she liked the idea that they wanted to set rules and levy punishment, Tru held up one hand. “Hold on, there, gentlemen. You’re getting ahead of yourselves. There’s not a ‘no snark’ rule. You’re not the fun police.”

  They exchanged a glance and a shrug.

  Giving it up, the guys turned, and the three of them began walking along the path to the inn. Jed’s hand landed on the small of her back. “We met at a B&B you were reviewing about six months ago, and we’ve been seeing each other casually ever since.”

  Alex had required that information when she’d called. “Two months. Alex would never believe that I’d see someone for six months and not tell him or Jewell.” Actually, Alex would be hard pressed to believe that she’d keep someone in her life for that amount of time. He’d been shocked to hear that she had steady men at all.

  “Two months. Okay, we can do that.”

  She turned to Liam. “This Saturday is public sex night.” While Alex didn’t operate a sex club, he did designate two days each year to celebrate voyeurs and exhibitionists.

  “We won’t be participating.” Jed issued the dictate in a firm tone, his voice dropping so low that it ran rampant over her libido.

  Tru seized this opportunity. Poppy was going to be so proud. She hooked an arm through Liam’s and the other through Jed’s. Now she was being escorted by her gentlemen, even though she’d started it. “Let’s table that idea for now. I have something else I’d like to propose.” She looked to make sure each one was open to listening before continuing. Liam glanced down, one eyebrow lifted, and Jed inclined his head in her direction. “You said you wanted to see me again.” Okay, she continued a little bit, and then she had to pause so that she could chase down her fleeing courage.

  “Yeah.” Liam agreed, and the strength of his tone helped corral her nerve.

  “I think we should take this weekend to examine if a casual relationship might work. I mean, it wouldn’t be serious, but maybe while we’re pretending, we can see if we actually want to do it again. Or not. We might decide this won’t work. So we should keep it casual. Friendly. Because you’re partners, and I’d hate to cause a rift or ill will or something.” Now she was rambling, so she stopped talking.

  Jed put a hand over hers where she held his arm. “Are you sure? You didn’t seem all that jazzed about the idea when we brought it up before.”

  She was sure as hell not sure, but she wanted to be. “Yeah. It’ll be fun, right? I mean, who doesn’t dream about being the meat in a hot guy sandwich? Well, besides lesbians, but straight women and the gays, we’re all about that kind of lunch.”

  “Are you hungry?” The smile playing around Liam’s lips betrayed his struggle to keep from laughing. “It’s past lunch time, but your bag is a little heavy, so I’m wondering if you brought lunch but didn’t eat it.”

  As a matter of fact, she had eaten a very fine lunch. “That’s because I ordered for three. You guys were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

  “Sorry. Our plane was delayed. I texted you.” Liam stopped and set the bag down. “What’s in here? We skipped lunch, and we came looking for you the moment we got to the inn.”

  She hadn’t noticed a text from Liam, but she let it go. Sometimes when she was traveling, texts came through hours—even days—later. Tru looked around. The path back to the inn was nothing more than a wide shoulder for the highway. “Are you going to eat it on the side of the road?”

  “Sure.” Jed dug into the picnic hamper in the bottom of the bag. “Don’t worry—we’ll save room for a sandwich later.”

  “Is that an answer, or plans for a mid-afternoon snack?” When deciding on plans, Tru preferred clarity. She wasn’t sure if he was craving tacos, flirting or if he was finally responding to her invitation. “You don’t have to say yes just to keep my cooperation. Either way, I won’t let you down. Brandy said this criminal organization represented a new kind of global crime syndicate. Or something like that.” Those hadn’t been her exact words, but that’s what Tru, with her expertise honed by crime television shows, had taken from the conversation. “I’m all for ridding the world of murderers and other kinds of jerks.”

  Liam unwrapped a sub sandwich and took a huge bite. He paused in chewing to smile enigmatically. Jed did the same. She’d opened herself to them—something she didn’t generally do, and they were being other kinds of jerks. Seething, Tru rolled her eyes and stalked off in the direction of the inn. The world could stand to be rid of this variety of shenanigans.

  Before she was able to take two steps, Jed grabbed her arm and halted her progress. He swallowed before saying anything. “Don’t ever walk away from us. When you’re upset or frustrated, tell us you’ve had enough. We will tease you. We’re both kind of bastards that way, and we don’t always know when to stop teasing, but if you tell us, we’ll stop.”

  That quelled her ire somewhat. Tru folded her arms. “I’d like an answer.”

  “Yes.” Jed released his hold on her arm. “We’d like to give it a try. Casual is a good way to start.”

  They’d have to pretend it was more meaningful than that, but as long as they’d established clear boundaries upfront, then Tru was fine with the situation. She threw her arms around Jed and reeled Liam in for the hug. Liam tried to both hug her and avoid contact
with Jed, which made for an awkward embrace.

  Tru growled, the exact same sound her childhood dog had made when she used to try to hug him when he wanted to sleep. It indicated annoyance, not an imminent threat. “Incidental touching is a real thing. Get used to it.”

  Liam acquiesced, and the trio hugged on the side of the road.

  Tru shouldered the bag back to Put-In Inn while her gentlemen finished their subs and dug back into the bag for cookies. When they were nearly to the inn, some logistical questions came to mind.

  “Due to you guys being two days late, we missed being able to ease into this. I think we need to dive in, full throttle. It might lead to more use of safewords, but we can’t look like we’re that new as an item.” Tru didn’t care to take emotional risks, but this was more of a physical one, and she didn’t have an issue with those.

  Jed threaded his fingers through hers and held her hand. “That’s not ideal, but I agree that it’s necessary. You can start by calling me Sir, and you can call Liam, ‘White Knight.’”

  She wasn’t sure whether he was joking or serious.

  Liam snorted. “You’re part Irish, motherfucker. If she’s calling me that, then she’s calling you Brown Sugar.”

  Sensing a fight, she sought common ground. “What would you like to be called, Liam? I’m okay with calling you both Sir.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s go with that, though White Knight could grow on me.”

  “I’m not sure I could say that without laughing.” If she used it enough, though, it could grow on her as well.

  “That’s the point.” Jed laughed, a devious sound that wended pleasantly through her system. “I’d love to see you bust up every time he gave you an order.”

  “You’re naughty.” Tru laughed with him because his joy was contagious. She put her hand in Liam’s, and he squeezed, communicating that he wasn’t upset. On impulse, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it.