“And you need to donate those clothes to the CDC. I’m sure they could discover some new bacterial life forms on them.”
I peeled off my shirt and threw it at her. She ducked under the covers.
I rummaged through my suitcase, pulled off my workout pants, and yanked on jeans. I was in the middle of putting on my shirt, with my arms up and over my head when I heard the bathroom door open. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I twisted around and awkwardly pulled the shirt down. I tried to play it cool. “Care to explain yourself, Special Agent Solomon?”
But he didn’t let me get away with it. “You walk in on me, I walk in on you. Hey, Mandy, maybe you should pull off that blanket just so we’re all even.”
“Ha. Nice try, FBI.” She pulled the blanket up to her chest. “You’d be so lucky.”
I hugged myself, feeling very silly and a little flushed. I glanced up at Solomon to find him shirtless, with a white towel around his waist. He looked good—more than good. I mean, wow.
“I need my bag.” Solomon maneuvered past me with a coy smile on his face. “I’ll just get this and change in the bathroom. Give me five minutes.”
It was still hard to believe he was here. But when he came close, I could smell his unmistakable man-scent and see the way his skin glistened with water… all I wanted to do was jump him. Speaking through gritted teeth, I said, “You should leave until I cool down.”
“Do I make you that hot?”
Was I that see-through? “No! I’m pissed. Get out of here before I punch you in the face.”
Solomon nodded and grabbed his bag. “Got it. I’ll explain everything once we’re all dressed and have had some breakfast.” He looked at Mandy. “Is she always this crabby in the morning?”
Mandy nodded.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Breakfast? Not on your life. I’m giving you ten minutes—that’s all.”
“Fair enough. Just see what I can do with ten minutes.” He shut the bathroom door, and I turned to Mandy and groaned.
“Nice, Sarah. Attack him first thing.”
“He can’t just barge into our space, our time, announce that he’s FBI—”
“That’s what really gets you, right? His secrets.”
I stood still and silent, thinking. “No, it’s not the secrets. I’ll always keep secrets and I expect others to.”
“Then what is it?”
I pulled my ring on and off my finger, fidgeting. I opened my mouth to respond when I realized he could hear everything we said. Snapping my mouth closed, I motioned with my eyes toward the door and Mandy understood.
“Will you listen to him?” Her voice was soft, compassionate.
I nodded.
But that didn’t mean I’d let him stay. I made it a personal policy never to be a bed partner with law enforcement. At the memory of what I had seen in the shower, I almost made an exception. But no, I had to stick to my principles. No matter what his abs looked like.
AFTER SOLOMON GOT OUT of the bathroom, I went in and locked the door. I took an extra-long shower. I watched the water flow down the drain and let my trouble go. I relaxed my muscles, massaged my neck, and tried to regain perspective.
Using extra lather, I rubbed the foamy washcloth extra hard over my skin. By the time I stepped, dripping, onto the towel, I smelled like a garden. But I put on some fresh-scented lotion for good measure.
Wiping the mirror, I noticed that my hair was even more blonde than normal. The sun was bleaching it.
“Hurry up in there,” Mandy bellowed from the bedroom. “I’m hungry.”
“Hold your horses.” So she decided to skip the shower and do breakfast first. That meant they were waiting on me. Let them wait.
It would be hot out, so I opted for a loose skirt, light blue T-shirt, and sandals. After my killer makeup skills, aka putting on clear lip gloss, I opened the bathroom door. “Everyone decent?”
Solomon stood and looked me up and down. If any other man did that to me I would be miffed, but when he did it, I liked how it felt. I stiffened against the feelings. Why’d he have to surprise me like this? When he reached to hug me, I shouldered past him. He gently grabbed my forearm.
I gritted my teeth.
“I’ve never seen you mad before.”
“It’s usually the last thing a person sees,” I said with a wry smile.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So, where are we going to eat?” Mandy cut in.
I sighed. “I don’t care—just get me food.”
Solomon picked up a hotel pamphlet. “Why not the lobby? I thought I saw a cafè.”
Nodding, I said, “Sounds good.”
They surged to the door. I squared my shoulders and leveled my gaze, ready to break up with Solomon.
THE POOR EGGS HAD no chance under the mighty power of Mandy and her deathly fork. I would have been embarrassed by how she was attacking her breakfast, but it was Mandy.
She finished her omelet before I even received my French toast. She stood, scraping her chair back. “I’m off. I’ll let you two stew whatever recipe you have going here.”
I turned in surprise. “Mandy.”
But she’d already turned away. “I’ll be checking to see if we can afford parasailing,” she said as she walked off.
The waiter brought my steaming French toast with a pool of butter in the middle. I didn’t cut into it, which should have given Solomon an idea of how serious I was. Solomon had ordered oatmeal with a side of bacon. Who orders oatmeal in Rio? It convinced me even more that our relationship would not work out, no matter how much I was attracted to him.
“Okay. Spill it, bud.”
Solomon grinned. When he did, the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was cute. Focus, Sarah. Keep on point.
He took a bite out of a thick slice of bacon, chewed, and swallowed. “I’m FBI. Can’t tell you much more than that.”
“Well then, I’m not going to play around with you. It’s been fun, but it’s over.”
He took a sip of water and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “You want your man to tell you everything?”
I winced. “You’re not my man. And I’m a big fan of keeping secrets. I just don’t want to be with someone whose sole job is to find them out. Can’t tell you much more than that.” I repeated his words back to him.
“That sounds suspicious.” He squared his shoulders. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “What secrets do you need kept from the law?”
A good lie is one you never have to tell. Many people in trouble lie to save themselves, but every now and again, the real con artist will tell you the flat-out truth and bank that you won’t believe them. It works especially well when paired with humor.
“I’m a killer. I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”
He looked at me soberly. “No wonder I’m so drawn to you. You’re a Johnny Cash fan.”
I crossed my arms.
“I like you,” he said, digging into his oatmeal.
I almost left at that. Breaking ties with him was turning out to be harder than I‘d expected. Instead, I poured syrup over my French toast—so much that the bread was almost floating on my plate. My workout had famished me.
Just as I lifted the first bite to my lips, Solomon said, “Do you mean you’re a killer because you shot Hank Williams and his muscleman, or …” he lowered his voice, “the fact that your mother claims you murdered your own father?”
I had gotten so good at masking my emotions that I didn’t even blink at the words. Those hurts had been buried deep, but to hear Solomon say it made my heart beat so much faster. I chewed slowly. I didn’t even taste it. I squeezed the arm of my chair so tight, my knuckles turned white.
We ate in silence. I don’t know if he’d said that to get a rise out of me or if he expected me to pour my heart out to him. But I gave him nothing.
I had already mapped my exit and was ready to bolt. However, since I had the FBI sitting besid
e me, I might as well take advantage of it and ask about the Blondes. It was the only good thing I could draw from this encounter. I wanted to give Eddie some answers. Then I’d walk out of Solomon’s life forever.
As opposed to last time, I shot straight.
“Have any leads in the Tanya Lofton case?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “The authorities think it’s the Blondes, but they have no evidence besides Eddie’s word that two blonde girls were the ones who kidnapped her.”
“The Blondes … you mean that group you warned me about?”
“Yes. And don’t play dumb. We heard you helped Mr. Lofton and already know half as much about the gang as I do.”
“Oh, really?” I fidgeted with my napkin, twisting it around my finger. “Don’t be modest. I probably only know one-third of the things you do.” Then I cut down to what I wanted from him. “Why’d they change their M.O.?”
“Gangs like these evolve. There’s the law of diminishing returns. Stealing isn’t getting them as high as it used to.”
“You think it’s all psychological, not at all financial?”
He took another bite of his oatmeal. It looked so dry next to my French toast. The poor guy obviously made bad choices.
He shrugged. He didn’t want to tell me any more. “Mr. Lofton will be escorted back to the States. It seems that the local authorities aren’t going to break the case, so we’re unofficially stepping in.”
“Unofficially? What does that mean?” I leaned toward him.
He lowered his voice. “It means, not confirmed officially.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
Giving a wry grin, he said, “The FBI wasn’t asked to help out, so we are here under the embassy’s authority, as consultants. We can do almost everything we need to, but when it comes down to it, the local police will have to make arrests.”
“How’s Eddie doing?”
“He’s resting, supposed to be flying out later this afternoon. I do need to take your official statement, but for now you can just tell me what happened.”
“Sure.”
Solomon frowned. “Now, Sarah, I really need you to leave this alone. The FBI is taking this seriously and I don’t want you involved. You are here on vacation. I can’t do my job if I’m worried about your safety.”
I didn’t know what to say, or what I really thought. Up until now, Mandy and Joshua had been the only ones who looked out for me. For a second I enjoyed the feeling of being protected by a big, tall, strong agent. And then reality hit and burst my bubble. He probably had an angle.
So I lied. “I’ll stay out of it. I trust you and your FBI’ing abilities.”
“Good. That’s a load off my mind.” He searched my face and shook his head as if he knew I was lying. I pertly patted my lips with my napkin. He didn’t have any say in my life. If Eddie wanted my help, I would give it.
He leaned forward so his hair fell on his forehead. He brushed it back, and a waft of his shampoo came my way. God, he smelled good. “Now, what happened?”
SOLOMON TOOK NOTES AS I recounted my interaction with Eddie in the parking lot and his hotel room, leaving out anything that implied I wanted to get involved. He ordered us two lattes, and we sipped them as I talked.
Right as I finished, Mandy walked up. “I booked our surfboard and parasailing adventures.”
“Have you found your homeless child to adopt yet?”
Mandy snorted. “Not yet.”
Solomon looked up from his cup. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “What time’s our first challenge?”
“Four. I bought an underwater camera too. So we can chronicle our trip.”
We talked as if Solomon wasn’t there. It brought me some amused satisfaction.
I stood and Mandy linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go shopping before then.”
“Okay. But before we hit all that, this girl needs some sleep.”
Mandy yawned as if on cue. “Yeah, I got, like, two hours and could use a few more. How about we head back to the room and get going around noon?”
Closing his notebook, Solomon nodded. “Great. I love being invisible. Just what an agent should be. I’ll text you when I’m free, if you guys want to grab dinner later.”
He was incorrigible. “No, thanks.” I kissed Solomon on the forehead as if he were a little kid. “Just stay away.”
He bowed his head. “I’m nothing if not obedient to a beautiful girl’s wishes. Goodbye. Be good.” His words put me on edge—why was he so accepting of my rejection? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would squall about it, but still, he didn’t even mention it.
I let him have the last word. With a little smile, I turned and walked away. No doubt we’d run into him again, but if I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to speak to him.
And then I marveled at my ability of self-deception.
I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW exhausted I was until I lay down. The long night, my intense workout, my mind battering me, and seeing Solomon all amounted to one tired girl.
I woke up still on top of the covers with one shoe barely on and the other missing. Bending down, I found it under the bed and then noticed the time—after one in the afternoon. So much for starting our day at noon.
Mandy was snoring and had one hand draped over her face. I decided to let her sleep and go hit the gym. I could feel the stir of whatever slept inside. It needed out, and one of the best ways was a good hard workout. Not that I needed another one today, but I had to do something. I ended up just doing some push-ups and sit-ups, but it felt good to move some energy.
Twenty minutes later, I was spent, but felt better. Mandy was still out like a hibernating bear. I wanted to freshen up, so I stepped into the bathroom.
Turned out my hair had made it through my mini workout. I brushed my teeth, changed into shorts and an athletic tank, and braided my hair.
After I considered splashing water on Mandy’s face and then rejected the idea because I valued our friendship, I decided on a much nicer way to wake her.
Taking out one of my pens, I started drawing a rose tattoo on her forearm. She stirred. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Her arm twitched, and just as I finished the last leaf, she bolted up. She yanked her arm away and gasped.
“You ruined me.”
“Ha. It’d take a lot more ink than that.”
She scrubbed at her arm and then gave me a glare that had a smile simmering behind it. I pushed her legs off the bed. “You said noon, not one. Noon, Mandy. You still have so much to cross off your list.”
She groaned and rolled over, pulling her legs up under her. “Go away, demon spawn. I take back what I said. Lists are terrible ideas on vacation.”
I shoved her off the bed and laughed when she cursed.
“Come on, I’m all dressed.” Mandy didn’t move. “I look hot,” I teased.
“You always look hot. Now go away.”
“Fine. I’m going down to get a coffee—text me when you’re coming. And don’t go back to sleep or we can’t shop. You know how badly I need new clothes.”
Taking a room key card, I put it in my purse and walked to the elevator. I had at least an hour to kill, as Mandy was not the fastest riser.
This day was going nowhere fast, but that was fine with me. Walking the four-hundred yards to the beach, I took off my shoes and casually strolled in the sand. I couldn’t get enough of the ocean air, the sand between my toes, and the sight of the greenest mountains I’d ever seen. Palm trees lined the beach, and their leaves rustled in the salty breeze. The sun warmed my skin and I couldn’t help the smile tugging my lips. Being outside was good for the soul.
A little tiki hut stood to my left and I smelled something delicious. My mouth started watering when I saw what the man was serving.
“Three shots of espresso, a little cream, and a shot of coconut,” I ordered. Most of the people here spoke English. It made sense—this was a tourist trap built just for us.
Marco, our valet drive
r from the hotel, waved at me from across the street and I took my coffee to go.
“Hey, Marco. You working all day today?”
“Yes, Miss Steele, all day. You going out, see the sites?”
“Maybe. Mandy’s taking her time so I’m down here again, waiting like a dutiful wife.”
“Miss Steele, you a dutiful wife? Hm. I no judge.” Marco shook his head and I laughed, letting him know it was just an English expression.
Marco took my hand and held it out to inspect me. “You a sweet lady. You remind me of my daughter. She your age.”
“Well, thank you, Marco.”
“Very good, Miss Steele. I tell your friend where to find you when she comes down?”
“No, thanks. She’ll text when she’s on her way. Have a good one.”
“Good, good. You need anything, or you want someone to take you to see the real Rio, you give me a call?”
I winked at him and walked on.
The espresso was good, but as soon as I drank it, I remembered the time. To my body it was morning, but outside it was the middle of the day, and hot. I started to sweat, and looking out at the ocean made me want to go for a swim.
Tossing the empty coffee cup in a trash bin, I turned to find myself standing in front of Eddie Lofton’s hotel. Checking the time on my cell and not seeing a text from Mandy, I decided to go see how Eddie was doing. Maybe the FBI had discovered some new information on the case.
AS I CROSSED THE lobby, I noticed two men reading newspapers in the plush chairs. My eyes roved past and then went back to them. One had a slight bulge just under his shoulder, and the other had a cane beside him. That, paired with the way they watched the door and their lack of attention to their papers, convinced me they were feds. I wondered if Solomon was watching me now. As I waited for the elevator, I looked at my phone again and sighed. Dang that girl—she must have fallen asleep again.
The elevator doors opened. I stepped inside and hit the correct button. A man in bike shorts punched in a higher floor. As it’s impossible not to look when someone’s wearing bike shorts, I checked him out. His build was muscular and athletic, except for his chubby baby cheeks. He seemed like the kind of guy who only wore organic clothing and ate seeds and berries. I was about to make small talk when he ripped one. Just like that. I scrunched my nose and tried not to breathe. The smell saturated the air, and I gagged. The elevator seemed smaller and slower than any elevator I’d ever been in. By the time we reached the fourth floor, I was praying. God, if I get out of this alive, I swear I’ll start volunteering at a soup kitchen. I watched the floor numbers tick by.
The Steele Collection Books 1-3: Sarah Steele Legal Thrillers Page 18
