Desired by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  Oh, I’d had more than enough of Massimo, so I’d turned Neil down. But despite all the medication Neil was on, he’d out-maneuvered me. He’d convinced my dad that if Stroop Finders tracked down the real killer, Neil would smooth things over with Frances.

  It was time for Neil to make a down payment. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure what kind of condition he would be in. Learning that the authorities wanted Massimo dead had sent him into shock.

  I checked the time. It was too early to call, but if the county kept giving us the runaround, then Stroop Finders would be out of business.

  I dialed Neil’s number, juggling the phone so I could alternately dry my slippery palms on my denim shorts.

  “Hello?” It was one of Neil’s friends. I’d only met them once and certainly couldn’t tell their voices apart.

  “This is Audrey,” I said. “Is Neil awake?”

  “No.” There was a pause. “He probably won’t be for a few hours. I had to give him sleeping pills. Do you have any news?”

  “No. Massimo hasn’t been caught.” I found myself wondering if this friend would be capable of calling Frances and impersonating Neil. Frances was too vain to use a hearing aid. Well, that would be Plan B. “I’ll call back later.”

  As I was hanging up, a white cargo van slowed in front of the parking lot.

  I twisted to slap the flat of my hand against the wall, and I called out Rob’s name.

  Then I shoved my hands into my pockets and tried not to look confrontational and aggressive as I went to meet the man who would decide the fate of Stroop Finders.

  Chapter 3

  The county inspector, a long-shanked guy with hunched shoulders and a nose that reminded me of a ski jump, mostly ignored our questions as Rob and I followed him around the parking lot, then the exterior of the building, and finally the office’s interior.

  Maybe it was my imagination, but the way he refused to meet our eyes, to return our respectful inquiries with anything but indifference, seemed a clear sign that the fix was in.

  Not that I’d had any doubt.

  Rob and I exchanged glances as the man shook his head and jotted down some notes in a small spiral register.

  “Come to the van with me,” the man said, and set off with long strides.

  I looked at Rob. His lips were pressed so firmly together that they’d gone white.

  This was all my fault.

  It wasn’t any good regretting it. As far as indulging in hypothetical situations, thinking that I should have thrown an innocent Massimo to the wolves made me uncomfortable.

  No, I should have been smarter, sneakier, more careful. That was really where I’d fucked up.

  Rob reached the van a few moments before I did, and he stood there, arms crossed in a way that showed he could bench some serious weight, his spine rigid while the inspector rooted around in a box.

  The man came up with a pile of bright yellow stickers, each half the size of a sheet of paper. They were the color of toxic fruit, of poisonous frogs.

  My mind instantly registered what they were, and an icy sweat popped out on my forehead. Still, I didn’t want to believe it, not even when the man rotated his wrist and I caught a glimpse of several letters.

  C-O-N-D-E-M-

  For a moment I thought it said condom, and felt a flush of embarrassment—the county was acting exceptionally immature. But it wasn’t condom.

  “Condemned?” The incredulous note in Rob’s voice reminded me of his reaction whenever he caught me cheating at board games. I leaned closer to see.

  The inspector bit the cap off a permanent marker and began writing. The whiff of chemicals made my eyes water.

  “Wait,” I said. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Desperate to get the man’s attention, I tapped his arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” he snapped, the words crystal clear despite the plastic top pinched between his lips. He turned a cold stare my way until I shuffled backward.

  “Sir,” Rob said. “It would be really helpful if you would explain why you’re condemning the building. It’s an older building, but we’ve never had even a hint of a problem.” He was wasting his time, and he seemed to know it because when the inspector didn’t answer, Rob didn’t bother following up.

  As for me, I had to take a few more steps back. The urge to pound the man’s smug face into a bloody pulp was a little too vivid, too tempting.

  All Rob and I could do was watch.

  First the inspector filled out the business name and address as well as the date.

  Then we watched him scrawl out a report and hand it to Rob—You’ll be getting the official notice in the mail in about fourteen days, the inspector said—and finally, most horrifyingly, we watched as he walked to the entrance of Stroop Finders, peeled the backing away from one big sticker, and slapped it onto the door.

  A wave of nausea swept through me, and my knees went wobbly. The donut I’d eaten turned acidic in my stomach, and I felt my guts gurgling, twisting.

  “I am so sorry,” I said on a shaky exhale. Rob didn’t acknowledge hearing me, but his fist tightened around the paper he’d been given.

  The inspector finished posting the stickers.

  “Why?” I asked him. My voice cracked.

  He looked at me but his eyes were slightly unfocused, like he didn’t want to actually see me. “If you want my advice, you’ll be out of here by the end of the day. Better yet, clear out before noon.”

  It wasn’t an apology, but I realized it was the closest we would get.

  Then he was gone, and Rob and I were standing in front of the ashes of our former business.

  Still in shock, I fumbled out my phone.

  “Let me call him,” Rob said. His brown eyes were bloodshot and glazed, like he’d been rudely yanked out of a deep slumber. “It’ll be better if he hears it from me.”

  I realized he was talking about our father. My mouth went dry. I’d been about to call Corbin, to ask for advice.

  Our dad… I’d forgotten all about him. It was probably a defense mechanism.

  With each ring whispering from Rob’s phone, it became more difficult for me to stay upright.

  Someone answered. A woman’s voice. Martha.

  “Sorry to call so early,” Rob said, “but is Dad around?”

  “He got a call and left for the office. Try his cell. What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to pack some things up,” I whispered to Rob. Because I was a coward. I couldn’t be there for the conversation.

  To my credit, I managed to make it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach came rushing up my esophagus.

  I flushed the shameful mess, then rinsed my mouth and splashed water on my face. When I raised my eyes to the mirror, the sight of my reflection filled me with disgust.

  “Good job, Audrey,” I said. My green eyes looked tired, lost. I turned on the faucet and wet my hands again, smoothed them over my frizzing dark hair. A drop of water clung to the side of a curl. With each shallow breath I took, it trembled.

  I stared at it, my mind blank. It felt like time had stopped.

  The building had been condemned.

  Stroop Finders wasn’t my home, but it had been the one constant for as far back as I could remember. Through my parents’ divorce, my father’s subsequent marriages and my mom’s rebirth as a healthy hippie type, the building had never changed. Even the coming and going of new employees hadn’t altered it.

  And now… Forget the improvements. If we got lucky, we’d pay a shitload of money just to keep the building in its current form. Money we didn’t have.

  It wasn’t too late. Corbin had the money and connections to make the problems with the county go away.

  All I had to do was ask for help.

  What he might want in return… That, I already knew. He’d made it clear that he wanted to invest in—to buy his way into—Stroop Finders. I’d been resisting it, wanting to keep some boundaries in my life.

  Fuck my pride,
and fuck boundaries. If I didn’t fix this, Rob would lose his home. Our dad wasn’t in much better shape. Martha was an expensive wife, but even I had to admit that their vacations were good for Dad after a lifetime of slaving away.

  There really wasn’t a choice anymore, not at this point.

  Therefore I was going to give Corbin whatever he wanted in return. I didn’t believe for a second that it would be healthy for our relationship, but having my brother move in with us because he was homeless would surely be even more unhealthy.

  What could I do? I dialed Corbin and mentally rehearsed what I would say: Hi. I know you’re busy with international spy stuff of life-or-death proportions, and thank you for having your contacts try to save Massimo’s life, by the way. Can I ask for yet another favor? I need you to bribe or pressure someone, though I don’t know who. Better yet, how do you feel about running over a little old lady? Frances is tough, so your truck might get dented.

  But Corbin didn’t answer, so I left a message, asking him to call back. There wasn’t any need to go into detail; Corbin knew I wouldn’t call for no reason. He’d know something was wrong. I washed my hands again for no reason and avoided looking at my reflection again.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Rob was stacking files on his desk. He glanced over his shoulder at me, his face impassive.

  “This problem is going to go away,” I promised as I circled to stand in front of him. “I’ll have Corbin fix it.”

  There was so much more to say, but I looked into my twin’s brown eyes and couldn’t find the words.

  He shook his head. “Don’t think I’m mad at you,” he said. “I’m not. You couldn’t have predicted that Frances would have so much power. Have you tried reaching out to her?”

  My breath caught. “Of course I did. She won’t answer my calls, and if I went to her house, she’d shoot me on sight.”

  Apparently he agreed because he nodded. “Then talk to Neil. Smoothing things over with his grandmother was part of the deal. If he won’t make a good-faith gesture, then maybe we don’t need to be investigating for him.”

  “We?” That part of his statement was far more surprising than his having arrived at the same conclusion I had, that it was time to put some pressure on Neil.

  Rob treated me to one of his lopsided grins. “We.”

  “And will we be going to LA together? Probably next week. I’ll handle the expenses.”

  Rob nodded again. “The faster this whole thing gets cleared up, the faster we can get back to business.” He looked around as if to say, Obviously I can’t do any work here. “We’ll need a home base.”

  “What?”

  “Your place. You’re never there anyway.”

  The blood turned heavy in my veins. Of course I was going to have to give up my apartment, had been planning to do so—in order to contribute more toward the renovations. I just wasn’t expecting it all to happen like this, so abruptly.

  “Audrey?”

  “Great idea,” I said, my voice sounding strange, strangled. I cleared my throat, tried again. “As a bonus, at least our files will be protected in case Henry comes back with a can of kerosene and a matchbook.”

  “There’s something I forgot to worry about this morning,” Rob said darkly, and I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Through the slightly open door, I heard the sounds of a vehicle pulling into the lot.

  “It’s gotta be Dad,” Rob said, and I went stiff. Rob wasn’t mad at me—or was pretending not to be—but our father was going to commit filicide. I wondered… If I crawled under a desk and hid, would that count as cowardice or self-preservation?

  Dad didn’t come in though, and peering through the door, I caught a glimpse of his curly, more-salt-than-pepper hair as he crossed in front of the entrance. Growled curses floated into the office. There was a frustrated banging as well.

  I eyed my desk, the alluring dark cavern underneath it.

  Dad stormed in, slamming the door behind him. His face was florid, damp from exertion and the unseasonable September heat. He balled up shreds of bright yellow paper and threw them at the trash.

  “The building isn’t going to be condemned,” I said quickly.

  “That’s fucking right,” Dad snarled, his fingers curling into fists. Bits of sticky yellow paper clung to the outside of his hand. He went into his office and banged the door shut. Rob and I both jumped.

  “Corbin will fix this,” I promised as Rob unplugged his computer and coiled the cord around the base.

  “Of that I have no doubt, but even Corbin will need time to do whatever it is he does, and we have to be out of here by noon. I don’t trust them not to bulldoze the place.”

  I had to admit, he had a point.

  We loaded up our cars with files and computers. On any given day most of the unresolved cases weren’t active, but several times a week we got leads on older bounties. They tended to be the smaller, less important ones, but they added up, and we needed money. We should have been completely digital, but who was going to pay for that, or to train the part-timers who resisted anything approximating change? So we relied on folders stuffed with notes. And those folders were heavy.

  Dad still hadn’t emerged from his office. He was on the phone, and while I couldn’t make out what he was saying, I could tell it wasn’t going well.

  “Some of the stuff we need is in Dad’s office,” Rob said as he squeezed a handful of cords into a gap between the boxes in my back seat.

  “Ok,” I said.

  We looked at each other. Rob raised an eyebrow.

  In other words, he’d called Dad with the bad news, so this next one was up to me.

  “Right.” Setting my jaw, I went back inside. What was the worst that could happen? Dad wouldn’t actually murder me. He’d yell, and his face would get red, and maybe he’d have a stroke or heart attack and have to go back into the hospital.

  I sucked my raw lower lip into my mouth and rapped lightly at his door.

  It swung open.

  Dad’s bushy eyebrows were drawn together. He was breathing heavily, his nostrils actually flaring.

  “What?” he growled, pushing through the doorway.

  I backed up, giving him space. “We… need to load up any important files that are in your office,” I said, the words running together. “My apartment’s got plenty of space, so Rob and I decided to relocate the business there temporarily—”

  “No.” He looked past me and jerked his hand for Rob to come over. I heard my brother’s footsteps approaching.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Dad said. Each of the words carried certainty, weight.

  “You talked to them,” Rob said, relieved.

  Dad grinned, and I withered inside. Oh, I knew that grin—eager, reckless, looking for a fight. My dad and I were alike in too many ways.

  So I wasn’t surprised when he said, “I talked to them, but we were unable to reach an agreement.”

  Damn, damn, damn. Dad had surely made things even worse, insulted some people, burned bridges that we desperately needed.

  “We’re staying put,” Dad said.

  “Um…” I glanced at Rob for support, but he just seemed confused. Clearly I was on my own. “The guy who served the notice suggested we be out before noon. He was giving us a heads-up…”

  Dad fixed me with an angry, almost wild gaze, and I stopped breathing. He’d always been larger than life to me, and I’d spent far too much of my existence trying to win his approval. The few times we’d gone toe to toe had been a disaster. For us both.

  Whatever he’s going to say, you deserve it, I reminded myself as I battled the urge to get defensive, to get aggressive.

  He leaned forward, an almost maniacal sparkle in his eyes. “No one fucks with my family.” His attention jerked to the side. “Where are the computers?”

  “Outside,” I said, surprised that he wasn’t screaming at me. “We’re taking everything important to—”

  “Bring ’em back in.�
�� His gaze shot around the room. “Now.”

  He went back into his office, putting me in mind of a lion retiring to its den while it waited for the gladiators to show up.

  “Now!” he hollered. “When you’re done, call everyone and tell them to get their asses in here. No telecommuting. Everyone will be working from here until further notice.” He slammed the door.

  Rob and I exchanged a long look. “We should call Martha,” he said.

  I snorted softly. “It wouldn’t do any good.” Inside, I was a little giddy. It had never occurred to me that Dad might take my side.

  Dad was tough, and he would never give up. I wasn’t sure how, but everything would be ok.

  “This is insane,” Rob said as he headed back outside to start unloading the cars.

  It took us the better part of two hours to move it all in again and set it back up. Unpacking was far more time-consuming than packing. As employees grumpily showed up, they pitched in.

  I was struggling with the final load when Corbin texted. Massimo is safe. We’ll talk tonight.

  Blinking away tears of relief, I slumped against the wall. There was no denying that Corbin was efficient and effective.

  I was just glad that I might not need to involve him with the Stroop Finders mess. I felt pathetic enough as it was.

  Chapter 4

  By the early afternoon, every chair in the office had a butt parked in it.

  No one was happy to be there.

  After the third grizzled part-timer went to complain to Dad, he called a meeting.

  “You two, up here,” he ordered.

  Reluctantly, Rob and I went to join him by the door. It was the only place in the office that didn’t have desks sitting in front of it, the only place we could be seen.

  Looking across the sea of irritated faces made me long for the days when I was nothing but an under-compensated, overworked employee.

  “Stroop Finders was started with five hundred bucks and a dream,” Dad said, voice exploding from his chest.

  Probably everyone in the office knew the next line. Rob and I sure did; we’d heard it millions of times as kids.