No Money Down

by Julie Moffett

  No Money Down

  By Julie Moffett

  Me and the legendary Zimmerman twins—it’s a friendship made in geek heaven. And it all started back when I worked for the NSA…

  My best friend Basia dragged me to the beach for her idea of a vacation. All those annoying people, sand in embarrassing places—not exactly R & R for a girl who doesn’t like the sun, the ocean or bathing suits. I couldn’t wait to get back to work.

  But things started looking up when I ran into Elvis and Xavier Zimmerman. We discovered we had a lot in common: gaming, anchovies, hacking. After that, the vacation was perfect—until I accidentally broke some poor guy’s fingers. Then Broken-Fingered Guy disappeared, and things got really dicey. With the Secret Service and a bunch of thugs suddenly after me, all I wanted was to solve the mystery and enjoy what was left of my vacation—preferably alive.

  Prequel to No One Lives Twice.

  26,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  June is a good month for us here at Carina Press. Why? Because it’s the month we first started publishing books! This June marks our two-year anniversary of publishing books, and to celebrate, we’re featuring only return Carina Press authors throughout the month. Each author with a June release is one who has published with us previously, and who we’re thrilled to have return with another book!

  In addition to featuring only return authors, we’re offering two volumes of Editor’s Choice collections. Volume I contains novellas from three of our rising stars in their respective romance subgenres: Shannon Stacey with contemporary romance novella Slow Summer Kisses, Cindy Spencer Pape with steampunk romance Kilts & Kraken, and Adrienne Giordano with romantic suspense novella Negotiating Point.

  From the non-romance genres comes Editor’s Choice Volume II, and four fantastic novellas: paranormal mystery Dance of Flames by Janni Nell, science-fiction Pyro Canyon by Robert Appleton, humorous action-adventure No Money Down by Julie Moffett, and Dead Calm, a mystery novella from Shirley Wells.

  Later in June, those collections are joined by a selection of genres designed to highlight the diversity of Carina Press books. Janis Susan May returns with another horror suspense novel, Timeless Innocents, following up her fantastic horror debut, Lure of the Mummy. Mystery author Jean Harrington offers up The Monet Murders, the next installment in her Murders By Design series. And the wait is over for fans of Shawn Kupfer’s debut science-fiction thriller, 47 Echo, with the release of the sequel, Supercritical. Rounding out the offerings for mystery fans, W. Soliman offers up Risky Business, the next novel in The Hunter Files.

  Romance fans need not dismay, we have plenty more to offer you as well, starting with The Pirate’s Lady, a captivating fantasy romance from author Julia Knight. Coleen Kwan pens a captivating steampunk romance in Asher’s Invention, and fans of m/m will be invested in Alex Beecroft’s emotional historical novella His Heart’s Obsession.

  If it’s a little naughty time you’re longing for, be sure to check out Lilly Cain’s Undercover Alliance, a sizzling science-fiction erotic romance.

  We’re proud to showcase these returning authors, and the amazing books they’ve written. We hope you’ll join us as we move into our third year of publishing, and continue to bring you stories, characters and authors you can love!

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Dedication

  To my brother, Brad, my sister-in-law, Beth, and my wonderful niece and nephew, Katy-bug and Kyle. Love you all so much!

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks go out to my sister, Sandy Parks, and my mom and dad, Donna Moffett and William Moffett, for critiquing the manuscript and for being Lexi’s biggest fans. Thanks as well to Scott Parks for his mathematical advice. Lastly, a special shout-out for my brother, Brad, who not only gave me the tech idea for the story, but who also won the title contest I held on Facebook. Way to go, big bro!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  My name is Lexi Carmichael and I hate the beach.

  Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word. I don’t really hate the beach. It’s just the sun is too bright, sand is everywhere and seaweed gets stuck in my toes. Don’t even get me started on how much I dislike bathing suits. It’s not pretty.

  I don’t like people being crammed together in a mathematically disproportionate way in a very small area. Especially when they’re half-dressed and strutting around like peacocks. It’s too hot, too loud and smells too much of coconut suntan lotion. Beam me out of here, Scotty. Please.

  Yet here I am, spending my precious vacation days at Ocean City, Maryland, on a beach without my beloved laptop, forced into this so-called “time away from technology” with my best friend and former roommate, Basia Kowalski. Somehow I let myself get talked into it. Usually I can resist her crazy ideas. After all, I have a pretty high IQ and recently graduated from Georgetown University with a double major in mathematics and computer science. But sometimes she talks so fast and runs me in circles that I often will acquiesce just to quit trying to figure out what she’s saying. Unfortunately, at that point it’s already too late. I’m stuck, having agreed to God-knows-what just to end the conversation.

  Don’t get me wrong, I adore Basia. She’s everything I’m not—pretty, social, fashionable and outgoing. She’s also witty and has a remarkable flair for languages. She speaks about twenty of them fluently and has her own business as a freelance translator while working part-time for Berlitz, those folks who put out the small phrase books in dozens of different languages. She’s brought me out of my shell more than any other person I’ve ever known, even if it does make me nervous and cranky most of the time.

  She’s always telling me, “Lexi Carmichael, it’s time to log off and get a life.”

  She’s usually right.

  I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the easiest person to be around. I’m neither a girly-girl nor a tomboy. I’m skinny in an awkward way, have no fashion sense and I don’t date much (or at all), which is not surprising since my social skills suck.

  I’m a geek.

  That means my happy place is online. Computers, code, gaming. I’m also an ace hacker. Or at least I used to be. Then I sort of got busted. It wasn’t a malicious hack, that’s not my style, but it was still illegal. Lucky for me, my dad is a high-priced lawyer for a swanky firm in Georgetown so no one could prove anything. However, it scared the beejeebies out of me. It scared Dad too. Although I’m technically an adult, he threatened to take away all my computer equipment if I ever hacked like that again.

  Now that I’m working for the National Security Agency,
better known as the NSA, I’ve completely sworn off hacking, although what I do in my imagination is between me, myself and I. Secretly, I have a desire to fit in to the real world, at least sometimes, which is why I suspect I let Basia talk me into most of the things she does.

  “Do you think this is a good spot?” Basia paused, setting the cooler down in the sand. She pointed at a very small spot sandwiched between an older couple sitting in a couple of lawn chairs beneath an umbrella and a greasy muscled guy asleep on his stomach on a black towel.

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Great.” She rolled out the colorful yellow Mexican blanket and I dropped the other bags at my feet.

  “You can set up the umbrella here.” She pointed at a spot near the head of the blanket. “We can adjust as the sun rises.”

  Sighing, I shoved the umbrella deep into the sand, angling it for maximum protection. No way would I spend more than a few minutes in the sun, if any at all. Roasting in the rays was not my cup of tea.

  After a few minutes of unpacking, Basia shimmied out of a cute white beach dress, unveiling a teeny-tiny green bikini. She handed me the suntan lotion.

  “Can you do my back?”

  I smeared a considerable amount on her back and shoulders. She did the rest of her body and then faced me. “Your turn.”

  My cheeks heated. “Ah, I’m thinking of just staying here under the umbrella.”

  She gave me a look that meant I’d just said something really wrong. My mom had that exact look.

  Basia planted her hands on her hips. “Take off your clothes. Now.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Undress.”

  Resigned, I took off my shirt.

  “Good. Now drop the pants.”

  I slid the pants down my legs and handed them over.

  She stared at me. “Where did you get that bathing suit?”

  “Can you believe it? It was ninety percent off at Macy’s.”

  “You mean you actually paid money for that?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It looks like something my great-grandmother would wear.”

  I frowned. “It covers all the essentials.”

  “It covers a lot more than that. Okay, the first order of business after the beach is to buy you a new bathing suit.”

  “I like this one.”

  “It’s beyond awful. Those panties reach your knees.”

  “I believe they’re referred to as pantaloons.”

  “Please, don’t start me laughing. I swear I’ll never stop. For now, just get out from under the umbrella so I can slather you up.”

  I stepped out from beneath the umbrella and Basia shielded her eyes. “My God. You’re white to the point of being clear. When was the last time you sat out in the sun?”

  “In a bathing suit? I think I was twelve.”

  “Why is it my work is never done with you? Okay, I think an extra layer of lotion will be necessary.” She wound my brown hair up into a ponytail, securing it with one of her scrunchies, and then smeared me with a ton of lotion. “You are skin and bones, girl. Do you ever eat?”

  “If I don’t have to cook it.”

  She swatted me on the arm and then rubbed the lotion residue on her leg. I thanked her and started to head back to the safety of the umbrella.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She grabbed my arm. “We’re going into the ocean.”

  “Why? It’s salty in there.”

  “That’s the idea. Sun, fresh air, salty water. We’re at the beach, remember?”

  “I can get fresh air from here.” The crankiness reared its ugly head and I felt oily and exposed.

  “Lexi.”

  I figured she’d probably try and drag me, which technically I didn’t think she could, seeing as how I had about five inches and fifteen pounds on her. But she’d try, which would attract more attention, which was even more loathsome to me than sticking my toes in salty water.

  “All right.” I supposed a little water couldn’t hurt anything.

  We had to make our way past the dozens of oiled people camped out on the beach until we made it to the water’s edge. The sun felt hot on my shoulders and nose, but a nice wind softened the heat, and the water felt cool on my toes.

  Basia took my hand. “Let’s go in deeper.”

  I hesitated. “I can’t swim.”

  “We won’t go far.”

  The water lapped against my knees and then my thighs. As we went deeper, my nerves surfaced. “I think this is far enough.”

  “Just a couple of steps more.” Basia laughed, let go of my hand and dived under the surface.

  “Basia?” I yelped as the waves crashed into me, causing me to take a step back. “Where are you?”

  She popped up behind me, nearly giving me a heart attack. With her dark hair slicked back and the green bikini, she looked like a mermaid.

  “The water is great. You should try going under.”

  “Oh, no.” The waves kept slamming me, keeping me off balance. “I think I’ve had enough.”

  Her pretty mouth turned into a pout. “But we just got here. Let’s wave hop first.” She took my hand again, pulling me deeper a few steps. “Like this.”

  A wave swelled in front of us and, as it reached its crescendo, she pulled me up and we rode the wave. It scared me at first, but after a few times, I realized I liked the exhilaration of riding the crest.

  “Hey, this is pretty fun.”

  “The more you listen to me, the more you will say that.”

  After a few times, I started to get the hang of it. I didn’t even get bothered too much when the water splashed my hair and face.

  Basia giggled. “Look out, here comes a big one.”

  It didn’t seem that big until it was pretty much upon us. By then it was too late. My hand ripped from Basia’s as the momentum of the wave pushed me forward with alarming speed. I saw the blurry shape of a figure in front of me, and my brain instantly calculated that a crash with it was imminent. I opened my mouth to scream a warning, but water rushed inside. I slammed into the shape with the force of a speeding bullet, and we rolled over and over in a ball of tangled limbs, water and seaweed.

  I pushed up to my knees on the beach, doggie-style, sputtering and coughing. My hair dripped heavily on either side of me while I’m pretty sure I hacked up half the ocean with some seaweed to boot. I lifted my head up long enough to see the fuzzy shape next to me stagger sideways.

  “Oh. My. God.” I coughed up some more water. “I am so sorry.”

  “Are you okay?” He held out a hand to help me up.

  I blinked, my vision hazy. Staggering to a half crouch, I reached out for his hand. Still unsteady, I missed and fell forward onto him, my hand still outstretched. My fingers got tangled in the waistband of his swimsuit. As I fell face-first into the sand, I took his swimsuit down around his ankles with me.

  I looked up in horror. There he stood, a guy I’d never met, staring at me with an expression of shock and disbelief on his face while his privates were on display for me, and the entire beach, to see. Then he swore, reached down and yanked up his suit, while I let my face fall back to the wet sand in mortification.

  “Hey.”

  Strong hands lifted me from behind. I stood, shaky on my feet, and rubbed my eyes. Two figures shimmied and swayed in front of me.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I coughed, blinked a couple of times and tried to steady my shaking knees. “I’m not sure. I see two of you.”

  One of the figures put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s go sit down on my blanket.”

  The figure led me to a blanket beneath an umbrella. He handed me a towel and I wiped my eyes with it. I set the towel on my lap as Basi
a came running up, kneeling on a corner of the blanket.

  “Lexi, are you okay?”

  “No, I think I’m going to have to move to another country. I nearly drowned, but not before exposing my rescuer.”

  “Ah, so, that’s what happened.”

  One of the figures nodded. “She confirmed my gender as male.”

  Basia snorted with laughter. “Well, leave it to Lexi to dispense with all social niceties and get right to the heart…or pants…of the matter. Most people go on dates first, you know.”

  “Jeez, Basia.” I dared a look up and saw two skinny white guys with brown hair and piercing blue eyes wearing matching swimsuits. Both were staring at me.

  I blinked three times. “Either I hit my head really hard or there are two of you.”

  “There are two of us.”

  I looked back and forth between them. “Twins. Identical twins.”

  One of them held out a hand. “I’m Elvis. The one you exposed.”

  Instead of taking his hand, I picked up the towel and hid my face in it. “I’m so sorry. I’m never coming to the beach again.”

  To my surprise, he laughed. “I’ll admit it surprised me. Never figured that’s how I’d meet a girl at the beach.”

  I lowered the towel. “Wait a minute. Did you say Elvis?” I glanced over at the other guy, who watched me with an amused expression on his face. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Xavier, would it?”

  Both guys looked startled. Elvis leaned forward. “How did you know?”

  “Mathematical deduction. If you take the current population of the U.S., which is about 300 million people, then make a reasonable assumption that a relatively small number of those people, say 1.6 percent, are both male and named Elvis, which is not a popular name, that puts us at about 2.4 million people. Only 0.4 percent of those are identical twins and half of that are male. Divide that by the 50 states and the District of Columbia, the number roughly equals 188 persons who are identical twins here in Maryland. Given this location, which happens to be a popular vacation destination for employees of the NSA, the odds that you are Elvis Zimmerman and he is Xavier are about 90 to 1 with an error percentage of 5 percent. By the way, I happen to work at the NSA too. I just joined the InfoSec division. My name is Lexi Carmichael.”