I shook my head. “Nope. None of those were on my list.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Okay. Let’s check North’s computer. See if he—”
“No,” I interrupted him. North wrote the addresses on a piece of paper and handed it to Marcy. She would have made the change after he wrote them down. His computer would only have the…well, I guess there could have been a mix-up in his files. But you’d think he would have noticed. Unless he really was trying to kill me. But why? At that point I was an anonymous yuppie who wanted to spend a bunch of money.”
“How come North didn’t just hand you the piece of paper?”
“It was scribbled. Mitch and I were potential big spenders. I’m sure he wanted the information to be on engraved letterhead—with his phone number and address. A scrap of paper wouldn’t be professional. Besides, Marcy added the directions.”
“I want to take a walk through his computer anyway. See if anything turns up.”
I watched over his shoulder as he zoomed through files. “You speed read?” I asked.
“Uh-huh,” he grunted, clearly focused on the task at hand.
Boredom and curiosity kicked in at the same time. A bad combination that had me searching for something to get into. I paced North’s office, allowing my fingers to brush against whatever looked interesting. I’d plucked a tissue from the box on North’s desk to use in place of the gloves Pierce neglected to give me. Fingerprints didn’t seem like a good idea when I was touching things I hadn’t been anywhere near in my prior visit.
Nothing was sending out “touch me” vibes and there were only murky images around his bookcase and filing cabinet. I tucked the tissue in my pocket and picked up a stack of papers from his desk—began to rifle through them. Since I’d been sitting at the desk earlier, I figured fingerprints would be expected.
Some images came through, mostly of meetings with anonymous people who weren’t connected to our case. I stacked the papers, placed them back on his desk the way I’d found them and decided to go through Marcy’s desk, see if I could find anything more interesting.
Her top drawer held the usual lip-gloss, comb, hair doohickey, hand lotion, and breath mints. A steno pad sat under the comb. I slid it out of the drawer and thumbed through the pages. It was blank. As I went to put it back, a flutter of paper tumbled to the floor. I bent to pick it up, then jerked my hand back. “Pierce, come here.”
He appeared next to me. Silent. Focused.
I pointed to the sheet of paper lying on the floor near his feet. “That’s the list.”
“The list North handed to Blaine?”
“Yep.”
He bent to pick it up. Grunted. “Guess he’s in the clear. The address where you landed on your pretty little ass isn’t here. Where’d you find this?”
The man liked my ass. I grinned. “My pretty little ass doesn’t have a clue, and neither does my sharp as a katana mind. I was going through Marcy’s stuff…maybe it was stuck to the bottom of this steno pad—” I wiggled it under his nose— “and fell out when I rifled through the pages. Wonder why she kept such an incriminating piece of evidence. I’d have burned it or something.”
Another grunt. Seemed to be a lot of that going around.
“Well, wouldn’t you have gotten rid of it?”
He looked at me, his eyes cold. “If I wanted to kill you, no one would know you were dead. I don’t leave a trail.”
A shudder went through my body. Right. For a minute there I’d forgotten who he was. “How about if you were a regular person?”
He stuffed the paper in his pocket and jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s roll.”
Guess he couldn’t relate to being a regular person. We locked up and settled into the bucket seats of his unremarkable BMW sedan. I’m guessing the unremarkable part was limited to the outside appearance—the inside was probably loaded with top-of-the-line surveillance gear or whatever super spies needed to track down the bad guys. My fantasy world was totally lost in James Bond gadgets until I felt him make a few sharp turns that had the seat belt cutting into my shoulder.
I opened my mouth to let him know what I thought about his driving, but swallowed the words when I noticed the angle of his jaw and tight lips. I glanced at the side mirror. Nothing. “What?”
“On the floor. Don’t move.”
“You’ve got to be—”
“Now.”
My body was curled in a ball on the floor before my mind knew I’d slid off the seat. Good thing I’m not very big. The smell of rubber and plastic hit my nose and left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Pierce made a few sharp turns that left bruises on my arms and legs. They’d be black and blue by tomorrow—that is, if I survived until tomorrow. I stuck my head up to see what was going on.
His right hand flew out and pushed my head back down.
Okay. So, squelch the curiosity. Didn’t know I could do that until this very second, but no way was I going to lift my head up again. Not unless the cramp in my side made its way up to my neck. At least my James Bond fantasies were on target. The car was making turns at a speed and arc that shouldn’t be possible.
Suddenly we slowed down, stopped, and a garage door scraped close. It was pitch black.
“You can get up now.”
“What in the hell was that all about?” My voice sounded garbled because I was going through contortions to get back onto the seat. His hand grabbed the back of my shirt, and my ass landed in the seat with enough force that I bounced. It left me with no question as to the amount of muscle on Tynan Pierce.
“Someone in a too inconspicuous beige sedan followed us for half a block longer than I liked. They got into the chase when I decided to lose them. If you weren’t with me, I’d have circled around and tried to get an ID on the plate.”
“Don’t mind me.” There was enough anger in my voice to catch his attention. It was annoying when people went into protective mode.
“When I deliver you to A. J. it will be in one piece with all parts working.”
“Yeah. I see your point. Annie wouldn’t be too happy if I looked like a bag of Kibbles and Bits.”
I could sense his nod. “I only piss A. J. off when there’s no other option.”
I suddenly realized that I couldn’t actually see him. Pitch black came to mind. I moved my hand in front of my face and couldn’t see the movement. I felt the edge of claustrophobia skitter along my skin. “Where are we?”
“Safe. You okay?”
“Now you’re asking? Yeah, I’m okay except for the bruises that will make themselves known in the morning.”
I couldn’t see a thing, but I know he grinned.
My mind got around to processing the word “safe.” “They could be out there waiting for us?”
“They’re not out there. Your curiosity needs to take a break on this one.”
With that, he got out of the car, circled around, opened my door and waited for me to extricate myself from the bucket seat. I felt the tension between us as my body brushed his, and there was no doubt in my mind he was a predator. And I looked like a tasty morsel. Probably an aftermath of the adrenaline rush.
His lips rubbed across mine, gently, then his tongue was warming my lips, deepening the kiss. Tasting. Exploring. My legs gave out, I pressed my palms tight against the car for support. The cold metal seeped through my skin, and reality crashed in. I broke the kiss and buried my forehead against his shoulder.
It would be a lie to say I didn’t want the kiss, so I’m gonna blame being scared out of my lacey black thong—and overactive hormones. But honestly, this man passed out hot flashes with his smile.
It took a minute. Okay, maybe more like two or three minutes, before I realized getting lost in a kiss with Tynan Pierce was not in my best interest. The guilt that had been hovering bit into the back of my neck and wouldn’t let go. Mitch. Yeah, we’d sort of broken up, but my heart didn’t get the memo.
And Pierce kissed perfectly. It’d already been
well established he ignited my hormones and wiped out all living brain cells. And not that I noticed or anything, but if his kisses were the only sex I could have for the rest of my life, I’d probably die a happy woman.
Scary thought.
My mind drifted back to Mitch. To what we’d shared.
“Mitch,” I whispered.
Pierce grunted. “Not the word I wanted to hear. Grapevine says you’re not attached.” His mouth came down on mine again, picking up where he left off, his tongue caressing my lower lip.
I leaned into him, lost my balance, and grabbed his jacket.
“No touching,” he growled next to my ear.
That stopped me cold. Even during a kiss, and a hot one at that, he knew where my fingers were. Should I be totally pissed off that he could compartmentalize so completely? Especially when he was kissing me.
Something to think about later. Much later. I shook my head. Time for sanity to replace lust.
I nibbled my lip, licked the taste of him away. “In case you get to thinking and wonder what my fingers picked up from your jacket—only images of your closet. Not much in there, huh?”
He stepped away from me. “I travel light.”
“What now?” I asked, relieved to hear my voice sounding less hormonal.
“We’re going to change vehicles, and I’m turning you over to A. J. One of us is attracting interest, and until I know who, you’re grounded.”
SEVENTEEN
Grounded. Maybe not so bad.
It’d given me a chance to sleep in, and I woke with an abundance of energy. Plus, weird and spooky gifts were back to normal. All the signs were in place for it to be a great day, grounding notwithstanding. I breezed through my shower and hair routine, then bounced downstairs to make up a chart for my new client, Terri McGraw.
The phone rang just as I clipped all the forms into a neat pile. Annie. I didn’t get so much as a “yo” out before she started talking. “So my source tells me you’re currently under my protection.”
“Huh. That source is nuts, you know that?”
“Um-hmm. I do. But what are you specifically referring to?”
“The secret garage he hid us in. Annie, it was a row of garages not attached to anything. I think they were supposed to be for the tenants of some condos—”
“I wouldn’t think too much about that,” Annie cut in. “Pierce probably has hidey holes all over the area, and none of them will be in his name or connected to where he actually lives.”
“Right. I asked him if it was his garage and he did the silent thing. Then I asked if he lived there.”
“And you got more silence, right?”
“Yep. Lots of silence going on with that dude.”
No way was I gonna mention the kiss. Had pushed it wwaaayyy to the back of my mind. Except for when the nagging, irrepressible tingle spread over my body and ignited the memory.
Annie’s voice squelched the tingle. “You want Pierce on your side. And he is. Leave it alone, El.”
“Okay. I hear you. My curiosity—”
“Needs to be kept in check on this one.”
“Right. Hey, my new client just pulled into the driveway.” I sidled over to the window to check out her body language—a heads-up before I start to work.
“Holy mamma mia. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“El?” Annie’s yell pounded my eardrums, and I jerked the phone away.
“It’s fine. Client surprised me. Everything’s under control. Gotta go to work.” I jabbed End too hard, knocked my cell on the floor, and bent to retrieve it.
When I straightened, Justin North’s wife had her fist poised to knock on my front door.
What in the bloody hell was I supposed to do with her?
I sucked in breath. Too fast. Choked.
Her knock had turned into an impatient pounding.
I brushed the tip of my finger over the diamond, cozy and safe in my navel. If I ever needed Pierce’s calm façade, now was the time to drag it out.
Prep time had run out.
I swung the door open and plastered a smile on my face. Showtime.
“Everly Gray?” She shifted from foot to foot.
“Yes. Please call me El. And you’re Terri McGraw?”
I was so hoping she’d say no. That she was lost, looking for some other address. Any other address.
Big smile. “Yes, I’m Terri,” she said inching around the door and into my office. A whiff of very expensive perfume assaulted my nostrils, tasted bitter on my tongue.
Damn. I had to let her in.
I swung the door wide, and gestured toward a chair.
What in the bloody hell should I do? Recuse myself? To do that I’d have to explain my involvement in her life—tailing, spying, and listening in on her husband’s affair.
Not an option.
Normal. I had to act normal.
I hustled across the room toward the stairs. “I’ll just get us a couple bottles of water and be right with you.”
I catapulted into the kitchen at full tilt, barely stifling a scream when I bumped into Annie. I shook my head, and waved my arms frantically to shoo her outside. “I’m fine. No problem. Tell you later.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“El? Should I wait down here?” Terri, aka North’s wife.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right down.”
I glared at Annie. “She’s harmless. Explanations later. Go. Away.” My whisper came out a panicked hiss. I grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge, and when I turned around, Annie was gone.
One crisis averted.
I sucked in a breath and jogged back downstairs. I’d made my decision. This was Terri McGraw. No relation to Reese North. Mrs. North must have a twin or something.
Terri sat on the edge of her chair, her legs crossed, showing off shapely calves and a hint of thigh. The dress she wore probably cost more than my entire closet—a deep, red silk number that buttoned down the front. It offered a great view of her cleavage, which was wasted on me, but if she was married to North, it should have kept him…satisfied.
I settled into the chair across from her. “How did you hear about me?” I asked, uncapping my pen and writing her name on the top of the page. The scrawl was unreadable. Hands shaking, much?
She cleared her throat. “Your ad. In the phone book.”
I plastered another smile on my face. “A random choice then?”
“Somewhat. Your ad mentioned creative problem solving, and I have a problem.”
Water. I opened the bottle and gulped. “How can I help you, Ms. McGraw?”
“Terri, please,” she said, sliding back in the chair, and reaching for her water.
I nodded. “Terri. Tell me about your problem, and we’ll see what we can do—”
She abruptly stood, started pacing. “My husband is having an affair with his secretary, and I plan to stop it.”
I stalled. “Let’s start by discussing your relationship with your husband. What things are going well, and what things aren’t?”
She continued to stride back and forth, picking at the label on her Evian bottle. “His money is what’s going well.” She stopped in front of me, hands on hips, bottle dangling from between her fingers. “Everything else is wrong.”
My focus dropped to the empty page of notes, and I took a minute to write. Pure gibberish. “Do you want to stay married to him?”
“Yes.” Her smile sent a chill up my spine. “I definitely intend to stay married to him. And I definitely intend to get rid of her.”
Oh, bloody, bloody hell. “Get rid of her?”
She tilted her chin at me. “Why else would I be here?”
I sucked in some air. “How—”
She held up her left hand. Sunlight glinted off the hunk of diamond on her ring finger as she turned to sit down. “Relax. I don’t want to kill her. I wouldn’t need help for that. No, I want to get rid of her. Preferably scare her away, maybe out of the country.”
I slid forward in my chair, braced my elbows on my knees. “You want me to help you figure out a way to scare her into leaving the country?”
She pointed a blood red, manicured talon at me. “Exactly.”
I scooted backward and placed the pad and my pen neatly on the table next to me. “No. That isn’t what I do.”
Yes! A way out of this…except what if she really was Reese North’s twin? And I could help?
Terri wriggled her finger at me. “Your ad says you do creative problem solving. Surely it wasn’t false advertising.”
Speechless, my stomach had dropped somewhere around my toes.
Terri pursed her too-glossy scarlet lips. “Okay. I can see I’ve offended your principles or something. How about I fill you in on what I’ve been doing? Maybe talking about it will give me some ideas even if you aren’t willing to help.”
I nodded, offered her a genuine smile, and reached for my notebook. This opportunity was too good to pass up.
“I’ve been following Justin for a few weeks now.”
Not a twin. I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip. “Justin is your husband?”
She nodded, started pacing again. “He hasn’t spotted me. How could he not recognize my car? How could he not recognize me?”
I stopped writing, slid her a glance. “Is it a distinctive car?”
“A cherry red Mercedes convertible. What do you think?”
I’m in way over my head is what I think. “That would be noticeable,” I said.
“Yes. We have matching cars. He definitely should have spotted me behind him.”
“Help me understand. You’ve been following him, and you want him to catch you?”
“Well, yes. If he knows I’m following him, he won’t do anything that will force me to divorce him.” Terri, aka Reese, trailed a finger down her cleavage.
“So your plan was to keep him on the straight and narrow with your semi-covert behavior?”
She sat, toed off her shoes, and curled her legs under her. “Exactly. But he didn’t notice me, so I had to change my plan.”
I tapped my pen against the pad. “And?”
“I started to follow Marcy instead. Only I didn’t want her to catch me so I rented a—” she wrinkled her nose— “Ford Taurus. White.”
a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) Page 17
