Jesus, he was one sick puppy. Granted, she was one hell of a package. Brains, strength, humor, sensual appeal—the whole nine yards. They could have a wonderful time while he was in Courage Bay, but the trouble was, he’d somehow taken on a package deal. It included her entire family, a whole cast of characters so interwoven in her life that it was hard for him to tell where the boundaries were between them all. Or if there were any boundaries.
This business with Linda, for instance. The whole family had turned up at the hospital. He’d never given it much thought before today, but wasn’t all this stuff pretty private?
One thing he knew for sure, he couldn’t adapt to this group mentality idea. Not even short term. Not that he was contemplating anything long term—of course he wasn’t—so why the hell was he stewing over it?
He might get around to thinking about a permanent partner when he was a lot older. He’d seen those old people walking down the street together hand in hand, and there was something about it that appealed to him. But for now, his life was perfect the way it was. Right?
Well, maybe not perfect exactly. Nobody ever got a certificate that entitled them to a perfect life, did they? There was his mother. She was an ongoing pain-in-the-ass problem and would be until she died, but he’d learned to cope with that. Money made things easier, made it possible to afford a full-time companion for her, an apartment, the best drying-out clinics. Not that any of them had had any lasting effect. But having the money to send her was something.
The money had been pure dumb luck. Before he signed on with the FBI he’d moved in some questionable circles. One of the guys he knew from that life, a little weasel named Waldo Bronoski, had gotten himself in a tight spot and needed help at one point, and John had provided it.
Bronoski went straight after that little scare, and it turned out the guy was a genius at investing. John had given Waldo a few thousand here and there over the years to invest for him, and Waldo had turned it into a sizable fortune, to the point where it wouldn’t be long before working would be a choice rather than a necessity.
John had pretty much figured out what he wanted to do at that point.
There was this place in the Virgin Islands called Tortola. He’d had to go there a few years back to roust out a Mafia type, and he’d fallen in love with the island. When he retired, he’d go there, start a little business taking tourists sightseeing, something like that.
Just thinking about it made him calmer. He had to remind himself when he was around the O’Sheas that he had a life of his own, a long-range plan, a future. He had to keep in mind that Courage Bay was only a job. Sure, getting to know Shannon had made it one hell of a lot more interesting. But he wasn’t misleading her in any way, was he? He sure as hell wasn’t talking rings or weddings or happily ever after, God forbid.
He’d been clear as air about relationships. He remembered saying straight out that he was footloose and fancy free. But just in case, he’d bring it up with her again tonight, so there was no question about her getting the wrong idea.
Speeding along in the fast lane, he’d been lost in his thoughts and pretty much driving by rote. Now, for the first time, he looked around. He took in the vista of hills and ocean flashing by beside the freeway. A sign came up saying he’d soon be in the outskirts of L.A. It was past time to turn around and head back.
He found an off ramp, got himself a burger at a drive through and turned around so he was heading north again. He really should find out what time Shannon was expecting him tonight. After fishing his phone out of his pocket, he punched in the numbers he’d memorized. She answered on the second ring.
“Hi, John. How’d your meeting go?”
For an instant, he couldn’t figure out what she was talking about.
“Oh, it got put off. Hey, I was wondering. You want me to pick up some pizza before I come over tonight?” He hadn’t thought about that until this very minute.
“That sounds great. I’m just leaving the hospital parking lot now with Patrick. Linda was awake, so we were all able to give her our love.”
“Well, that’s good. That’s fine. So what kind of pizza do you like?”
“There’s this place called the Flying Wedge. It’s down on Washington Avenue and Twentieth Street. They make the best pizza in town. They’ve got one with pine nuts and zucchini and tomatoes.”
“Okay. Six sound good?”
“Great. See you then.”
He hung up, smiling a little. He liked the way her voice sounded on the phone, husky and full of relief.
He’d gotten bent out of shape over nothing. All he had to do was stay clear, stay focused, stay in control. Stay honest. She’d gone on about honesty that night at the pub. As long as they were both on the same page with this relationship stuff, what harm could it do to enjoy one another?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHANNON WAS ENJOYING the pizza. She bit into her third slice, chewed and swallowed.
“This has to be the best ever.” She was sitting on the floor on pillows. John was on the couch. The coffee table was between them, with the two large pizzas he’d brought. She’d wisely locked both dogs in the kennel before he arrived, and so far there was no sign of either her boarder or her uncle.
Delicious as it was, however, pizza wasn’t the foremost thing on Shannon’s mind.
Tonight, John had brought along FBI identification. “Just in case you still think there’s any question about who I am,” he explained, handing the documents over.
She studied them, even though she no longer doubted him. But there were still things that puzzled her.
“I don’t understand how you know Joe Ripani. You didn’t trust me at first, fair enough. But why the heck would you trust him? Why would you tell Joe that you’re here undercover with the FBI?”
“Because Joe has a cousin in the Bureau. Which is partly why it was decided my cover would be as a fireman. Joe came to New York and coached me on exactly what I’d need to do and know in order to fit in here.”
“Okay, I get that part. But why here? Why Courage Bay? Is this the only place Freon is being stockpiled or smuggled or whatever? I don’t think so. I mean, we’re not exactly the crime center of the California coast.”
He hesitated. Shannon could see him wondering whether he ought to answer her, and she sighed with exasperation.
“Look, John, you know that anything you tell me stops with me. I gave you my word on that. But I need the full meal deal here. I need to get my head around this so I can understand exactly what’s going on. You never know, I might be able to help in some way.”
That wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever said, because he scowled at her and shook his head. “Get that out of your mind. This could be dangerous, Shannon. There’s no way you’re getting involved in any of it, you got that?”
“I am already involved. And like they say, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. So why Courage Bay?”
“Because we traced the shipments, and the suspect lives and works here.”
“No kidding, duh. I’d pretty well figured that much out on my own. So who is it? It has to be somebody connected to the fire department. Otherwise you’d have gotten a job at the library or the animal shelter.”
“Jesus, Shannon, you never give up, do you? I’m breaching security by telling you anything at all.”
“Well, it’s done already, the breach of security, so you might as well spill the rest of it. Who’s your suspect? Maybe I know this person. Maybe I can tell you more about him. It is a guy, right?”
“Right. And yes, you do know him. It’s the battalion chief, Victor Odom.”
She’d been chewing, but forgot to swallow. “Odom?” The name came out in a spray of half-chewed pizza.
Now that’s attractive, O’Shea.
“Sorry.” She brushed the mess off the couch and washed the rest down with soda before she tried again. “I should have guessed. Odom’s a total jerk, everybody knows that. He’s the only guy who’s ever made o
vert sexual advances to me on the job.”
John looked interested. “Oh yeah? What’d he do?”
“Put his hand on my rear a couple times. Made sure he brushed against my chest. Came into the shower room when I had the sign turned around. He’s a total creep, but because of his position, I figured it would cause me more grief to report him than it would just to stay out of his way. But I never figured he was a criminal as well as an asshole. Wow, it feels so good to know that. How’d he get onto this Freon thing in the first place, do you think?”
“The kind of Freon being smuggled is known as Halon 1301, which was used in firehouses as a fire suppressant before the ban on Freon. When that happened, the Halon was sent to Venezuela, where the stuff is legal for another decade.”
“What do they use it for?”
“To service and maintain existing air-conditioning units and refrigeration equipment. Air-conditioning systems on cars or trucks older than 1994 require Freon. Odom, of course, knew where the stuff from the fire station had been shipped to. That made it easy for him to arrange to have it smuggled back into the U.S. Unfortunately, there’s good money to be made here on the black market.”
“So is he doing this all on his own? Wouldn’t you think he’d have to have partners?”
“It’s a good guess there’s somebody besides him involved. How much do you know about the guy?”
Shannon shook her head. “Only fire hall gossip. He divorced his wife a couple years ago. Apparently he’s living with some bimbo. To hear the guys talk, she’s pretty hot, but I’ve never met her. Never even seen her. Like I said, I keep my distance from the creep.”
“Her name is Rachel Gruber. She has a criminal record—pretty minor stuff when she was in her teens. Escalating to break and enter in her twenties, theft and finally assault with a deadly weapon. Gruber did time on that one, eighteen months, and was released four years ago now. She’s a hot number, likes the good life, and consequently she’s also high maintenance. Odom would never be able to afford her on his department salary.”
“So you FBI guys have been keeping an eye on the two of them?”
“For quite some time now. Odom and Gruber have made frequent trips to Venezuela, and some discreet inquiries prove that Odom lives well beyond his means.”
“If you know for a fact he’s smuggling, and she’s in it with him, why can’t you just arrest the two of them?”
“We could get him on tax charges, failure to report income, but we’d rather nail them both on the Freon thing. There’s an ongoing federal initiative to crack down on trafficking in chemicals, but we don’t have enough evidence yet for a clear-cut case.”
“So how can we get it?”
He got that mulish look on his face that she was becoming all too familiar with. He slowly set his pizza plate on the coffee table and leaned forward. “Shannon O’Shea, read my lips. There is no we in this thing. I’m a federal agent, doing my job, and you are absolutely not going to be involved. It’s dangerous, it’s risky, it’s foolhardy. It’s not going to happen.”
She shrugged. “So? My job as a firefighter can be dangerous. It was risky and foolhardy to rescue Salvage, but that didn’t stop either of us. C’mon, John, we’d work well as a team.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I seem to remember having to haul both you and the dog out of that inferno.”
“I’d have managed on my own.” Damn, she was such a bad liar. “Probably. Maybe. And that’s the only time I’ve ever gotten in a tight spot. You can’t disqualify me for one little slip.”
“Yes, I can. And the answer is no.”
“Just no? No reasons, no hard and fast rules, no exceptions?”
“Not where you’re concerned.” He took another slice of pizza and munched away at it. He was about the only guy she’d ever met who actually looked good chewing.
“So it’s just me, is that it?” She wasn’t about to cave on this. “Plain old sexism at work here, looks like to me. What about Joe? Isn’t he helping you?”
“Of course he is, but that’s different.”
“How so? Because he’s a man? In case you haven’t noticed, he and I have the same basic training. I can’t believe you’d be a chauvinist about this, John. At least tell me how you plan to trap Odom.”
“I don’t have a plan, not yet. But I’ll come up with one.”
She’d been hoping he’d say that. “I already know one that’ll work.”
He pursed his lips and blew out an exasperated breath. “And I don’t want to hear it.”
“Of course you do. You need all the help you can get. You may be a chauvinist and sexist, but you’re not stupid, right? And it’s a great plan. Wait till you hear it.”
“O’Shea, you’re giving me a headache.”
“Really?” She pitched her voice low and sexy. “I know this great cure for headaches.” She slithered around the table and put her hand high on his thigh. She felt the muscles contract and heard him draw in a hissing breath.
“You wouldn’t seriously be considering seducing a federal agent to get your own way, would you, Ms. O’Shea?”
“My motto is Whatever Works.”
“Much as I’m tempted by the offer, I have to tell you I never use sex or condone the use of it as a bargaining tool.”
“Smart man. So why not listen to my idea first, and then we can just use sex for any old reason that comes along? Like fun, for instance.”
Her hand was still stroking, and he was looking the worse for wear.
“How many poor men have you driven berserk so far?”
“You don’t wanna know. But trust me on this, you do want to hear my idea.”
“Okay, okay, lay it on me. And move your hand—I can’t listen when you do that. But all I’m doing is listening, remember.”
“Boy, you’re stubborn. When’s your birthday, anyway?”
“What’s my birthday got to do with anything? It’s May fourth, over for another year, and if we have to wait for the next to implement whatever your scheme is, I’m afraid the time frame’s just a little off.”
“Idiot. May, huh? I think that’s Taurus the bull, which explains a lot about your nature, like why you’re so stubborn and bullheaded. But Willow knows all about astrology and stuff. She’ll be able to analyze your personality for me and then I’ll know everything about you.”
“Willow, eh?” He sat up a little straighter and glanced toward the door. “I forgot about her. Where is your bodyguard this evening, anyway? Shouldn’t she be arriving anytime now to spoil our fun?”
“She’s out with my uncle Donald again, I believe they’re having their sleepover at his house this time. He needs to be more careful after what happened when he tried to sneak out of here this morning, the slippery old slider.”
“How so?”
“Uncle Donald’s what used to be called a rogue. He’s dated any number of ladies of a certain age, and as soon as they start thinking long term, he dumps them.”
“Not the marrying kind.”
“Definitely not. He was married years ago. She took off with the mailman, if you can believe that. Fortunately, they didn’t have any kids.”
“That’s enough to put you off the postal service for life.”
“Yeah. Well, obviously it put Uncle Donald off long-term commitment.”
John gave her a look. “Lots of men don’t do long term.”
“Like you, right?” Might as well have him say it again.
“Yeah, like me.”
He’d told her before. Why did she have to keep nudging him to say it again? It was like picking at a scab. She knew what was underneath, knew it would sting, but couldn’t stop herself.
Okay, so much for that. She’d do a Scarlett O’Hara and think about that another time. Right now, it was back to the business at hand.
“Here’s what I think we should do.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she reached up and put her fingers over his lips. He promptly put his hand ov
er hers and pulled her little finger into his mouth and sucked, which came very close to derailing her. Sexy, sexy.
“Nice try, Forester. Or should I say McManus?”
“Stick to Forester. It’s too easy to slip otherwise.”
He was right. She reluctantly removed her finger from between his lips and organized her thoughts. “I think we ought to just go ahead with what I was planning to do anyhow, before you confessed. It makes perfect sense. Of course, I won’t take that incriminating license along, but I’ll go to Odom and tell him I’m suspicious of you, that I’m certain you had something to do with the fire at the warehouse. You can bet he’s heard about all the commotion I made concerning the man in the silver. It’s become a joke—they call you my asbestos angel. So it won’t come as a huge surprise that I’m suspicious of you. I’ll talk about Salvage, how he recognized you, and I’ll get creative and tell him I’ve been spying on you. I can even say that I’ve seen you poking around at the warehouse since the fires. I’ll tell Odom I got you to confide in me. With his nasty little mind, he’ll just assume I seduced the info out of you.”
“Actually, that would be pretty much the truth.”
“Actually, it wouldn’t. What I did was wrestle it out of you up on the mountain, remember? Or is that just too humiliating to admit?”
“And here I thought I won that contest.”
“Dream on, Sebastian. Anyhow, I’ll tell the dear man that you seem to think there was something hidden in that warehouse before the fire, something worth a lot of money.”
“And what exactly are we going to gain from all this? He’s liable to start wondering if I’m an undercover cop or FBI or some such ridiculous thing.”
He’d said we. So she was winning the battle. A tiny voice reminded her that she was also probably losing the war, but she ignored it.
“He won’t, because I’ll tell him that you’re desperate for money, that you have gambling debts, that I’m pretty certain you—I don’t know—snort coke or something on your time off. I could throw in that you’re a sex addict.”
Spontaneous Combustion Page 19
