“You know you can call me. I’ll bring over a pint of ice cream and a bottle of scotch. We’ll get you through this—all the chick-flicks you can handle.”
“I know.” He paused, but I knew better than to say anything. “I’ll be okay, V. I’ve had my heart trampled before. At least this time, she had the decency to show her true colors before I got too invested.”
I shook my head as I grabbed my purse and headed for the elevator. “You deserve better than that, Jare. If you’re going to insist on looking for love, you deserve the kind of woman who will knock you off your feet. Throw you off your buttoned-up, business-suit game.”
“You could have that too, V. A man who makes you think about something other than cheating spouses and runaways.”
“That would imply I wanted that, and we both know, I’m too damned jaded to fall in love.”
“Maybe if you stopped looking for all the things wrong, stopped running toward the bad guys, you’d realize not everyone’s relationship ends up that way.”
“And not every relationship’s a fairy tale either.” I sighed. “I really don’t get why you like me. You’re all sunshine and rainbows and love, and I’m all—”
“Not,” Jared interrupted. “But you’re good for me, and we’ve been through way too much to call it quits now. You’re the closest thing to a wife I might ever get.”
I made gagging noises into the phone, making Jared laugh.
“You know I love you. And if I weren’t so disgusted by your face, I just might consider such a thing.”
“Thank God for my ugly mug, then. You’d make a horrible wife.”
Certain Jared’s head was in a better place, at least for a little while, we said our goodbyes.
Unlocking my office, I headed inside.
Leaving the lights off, I maneuvered around my desk and sunk down in my seat. The desk lamp barely changed the visibility in the room but gave me just enough to log into my computer and pull up my emails.
I didn’t need a lot of time at the computer; just enough to make sure I didn’t have any new clients needing a consult. Most of my emails were pretty standard—a few ads, coupons, a travel deal the travel site knew I wouldn’t be taking, and an author newsletter for a book series I was severely behind on. All those could wait.
The one I cared about came from Lieutenant Parsons.
Neptune, need your help on a bounty. Highly sensitive, keeping it on the D.L. $25,000 payout if you bring him back in one piece.
The next lines were a photo of the mark and details on his last known address and aliases. Not a lot to go off, but I’d found plenty with less. He’d liked boxing and couldn’t seem to stay away from it, even though he was trying to lay low. I had plenty of contacts in that world, it wouldn’t be hard to track down a junkie for boxing and betting.
The last line maybe should’ve concerned me more than it did. Hell, if I were a lesser P.I., it might have.
He’s a wily one, Neptune. He’s not going to be easy to catch, harder to hold. He’ll take all your best techniques.
Whoever this Archer Janson was, he didn’t scare me. Hell, he looked more like an accountant than a hardened criminal, but I couldn’t exactly judge. At five-foot-four and about a hundred and twenty pounds, no one ever suspected me of being a threat. Never mind the fact I had a black belt in karate and routinely practiced flipping men twice my size onto their backs.
There was something about his dark green eyes, hidden behind black-rimmed glasses that made me think there was more to Archer Janson than met the eye. It was his curly, light brown hair and his boyish grin, though, that had me looking at him differently than I’d ever looked at a potential bounty.
Not that it mattered. No matter how cute he was, he was a criminal—plain and simple. The sooner I tracked him down, the sooner I got paid.
After I replied to Lieutenant Parsons that I would start looking and closed out of the message, the travel website email caught my eye again. I clicked on it, and my screen filled with pictures of sunny southern California. The bright blue waters and sandy beaches looked too good to resist, and part of me couldn’t help but think, maybe, after I collected this bounty, I could take that vacation after all.
3
ARCHER
Jubilee Falls, Nebraska—whoever came up with the name for this place must’ve been insane. There was nothing jubilant about it. I hadn’t expected to end up in some tropical location when I signed up for WITSEC, and really, Jubilee Falls wasn’t so bad. It was small-town, middle America.
Which meant boring.
The only takeout came from the fast-food joints or the Bumblebee Café, and boxing gyms were non-existent. At least my small apartment was cheap, and the townies didn’t seem too perturbed by a stranger moving into their little town.
The biggest downside to WITSEC I’d found so far was the FBI didn’t want me working as an accountant. The community was small enough, and Macchio was apparently connected enough, if I held to my standard of work, Macchio’s contacts at the IRS might’ve noticed my handiwork and blown my cover.
So, instead, I worked as a librarian at the Jubilee Falls Public Library.
Pinning on my nametag, I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, the same way I had since the trial ended and Sergio Macchio went to prison. The man in the mirror had my face, my tattoos, even my same glasses, but he didn’t feel like me anymore.
No, that man’s name was Daniel. His favorite part of the week was going to the library and reading to the local children for story hour every Monday and Wednesday from ten to noon. He got his coffee and pastries from the same bakery where everyone went. He hadn’t been inside a boxing gym in so long, the skills were slipping away.
I’d been in Jubilee Falls for just over two months, living as Daniel. Even though I’d started to develop a routine, even made a couple friends, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like my life.
The one piece of Archer Janson’s life I couldn’t let go was boxing. I liked to bet and go to fights which meant traveling every now and again since Nebraska wasn’t known for its boxing lifestyle. It was a small enough community, but I didn’t think there was any way I’d be recognized by anyone, especially this far from New York. I hadn’t been a whole lot, but I’d managed to catch a couple of matches.
I missed working out at the boxing gym near my old apartment. There wasn’t anything that came close to that in Jubilee. But the gym I found was decent enough. It wasn’t a chain and the guy who owned it was decent.
A quick stop at Cherry Blossoms Bakery to grab a coffee and a cream cheese Danish, then I headed for the library, making sure to eat every last crumb of the pastry before I got to the front doors. My boss, Lynette Howard, would tolerate me drinking my coffee at the circulation desk, at least until I spilled even a drop, but I’d already made the mistake of letting a crumb fall off my shirt onto one of the books once. I wasn’t going to make that mistake ever again.
“Good morning, Mr. Daniel.” One of the regular kids for story time ran up to me as soon as I walked through the front door and threw her arms around my midsection. “What books you gonna read today?”
I knelt as soon as she released me from the hug, so I was on her level.
“I haven’t picked yet, Miss Evelyn. Why don’t you go look around, see what stories you might like to read?” I’d quickly learned, even though I could pick out books just fine, there were always kids running around who were more than happy to make the choices for me.
“Okay!” Evelyn grinned and grabbed her mom’s hand. “Mr. Daniel said I could pick books for story time, Momma!” Evelyn’s mom looked a little wide-eyed at the prospect of being dragged all over the kid’s section to find a book, but she followed along as the young blonde chattered on about the types of books she thought needed to be read.
Shaking my head, I walked over to the circulation desk and dropped my messenger bag beneath the counter. “Hey, Lynette.”
“Daniel.” She nodded at me, then turned ba
ck to the pile of books she was checking in.
Lynette and I had a rough start. I was not the ideal librarian candidate she thought she was hiring. How the government swung it, I’ll never know. But when I walked in on the first day, she seemed completely perturbed by everything about me. I had too many tattoos, my hair was too shaggy, and I was certainly far to ripped to be a librarian. I may have mentioned something to her about “judging a book by its cover” and her lips curled under and her eyes hardened on me. But after that she relaxed. I did my job and I did it well. I gave her little to complain about, crumbs being my biggest offense as of yet and I planned to keep it to a minimum.
“You know, when you first started here, I really didn’t think you’d be able to handle story time. Most newbies can’t. With those tattoos, I just wasn’t sure what to expect.”
“Lynette, you give me time and I swear we’re going to be the best of friends.” I flashed her a grin as I logged in.
I looked around the main lobby of the library. She brought up my tattoos at least once a day as if she expected them to just wash off, but I kept them covered while I was at work, so she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. And because it was her territory. My librarian degree wasn’t real, and she worked hard.
“Those kids love you.” Lynette looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re sure you don’t have kids somewhere I don’t know about?”
“Nope, no kids.” I smiled at her. “I just know how to talk to them. Probably because I still act like a kid half the time, anyway.”
Lynette shook her head. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. Really.”
Carefully choosing where I set down my coffee, I pointed at a cart of books needing to be re-shelved. “I’ll start on those before story time, if that’s okay.”
She nodded and waved her hand at me in a gesture that dismissed me as easily as words could have.
Pushing the cart in front of me, I waited until I was clear of Lynette’s line of sight before I stopped and reorganized the books. Lynette had studied hard to become a librarian, even had a college degree in something related to the job, and I’d never try to tell her how to do anything. But her system didn’t make sense to me, so I sorted out a way that worked better for me.
I stood between two aisles of DVDs, grouping the books by genre, not caring about alphabetically. None of the piles were so huge, I couldn’t figure it out once I got to the section. I could work my way around the library in a pattern, weaving in and out of the shelves like I used to weave to avoid another boxer’s fists.
Ironically, even though the library was probably the strangest job my Witness Protection Program handler could have gotten me, it fit. No matter how much shit Lynette gave me about story time, I liked working with those kids.
Most of my cart of books were shelved by the time story time rolled around, and my coffee was lukewarm. Still, I chugged most of it in a few gulps and headed over to the children’s area.
Evelyn was already seated right in front of my chair, along with almost a dozen other kids. In my chair, a pile of picture books outnumbered the kids.
“Okay, boys and girls, whose been piling books on my chair?” I put my hands on my hips and bent over like I was scolding them, even though my smile gave it away. All the hands shot up in the air, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if I have time to read all these books!” I grinned and lifted the pile so I could sit. “But maybe I’ll talk to Ms. Lynette and see if we can get a basket to keep by the story time chair. That way, whenever you’re here and you see a book you want me to read, you can put it in the basket.”
Evelyn’s hand shot up even as she started talking. “What if we wanna borrow one of the books in the basket?”
I leaned down, so I was closer to her level and smiled. “I’ll keep a list, okay? Write down any new books in the basket. That way, we never lose track of stories you guys want to hear.”
She nodded like that appeased her curious little mind, then she folded her hands in her lap and looked at me expectantly.
I picked up the first book on my pile and set it in my lap. “Any more questions, or should we see just how many of these books we can get through?”
By the time story time was over, I was more than ready for a break. My throat was dry from reading for almost two hours, and I needed another hit of caffeine.
“Daniel, I know you have a break coming, but can I please just run out for twenty minutes? I’ll be right back, I swear.” Lynette looked nearly frantic. Which, for her, meant a little panic bleeding into her otherwise stoic expression.
“You want to leave me here alone?” Even on her lunch breaks, she didn’t leave the library.
Her eyes grew wide. “Not really, no…” She sighed. “Please? Twenty minutes.”
“Go. We’ll be fine.” I kept any jokes about the library burning down or giving all the books away to myself; she looked worried enough she didn’t need my sass adding to it.
Lynette grabbed her bag and hurried out, leaving me all alone in the library.
Honestly, that’s how I assumed it would stay. Wednesday afternoons weren’t exactly hopping in the library. So, when the doors slid open again ten minutes later, I figured Lynette had just overestimated how long she needed for whatever errand she had.
“Back so soon?”
I looked up from the circulation desk, and time stood still like we’d stumbled into a romantic comedy.
The blonde walking through the door was not Lynette Howard. She didn’t look like she fit into any part of Jubilee Falls I’d experienced so far. If she lived here, I needed to find out where she hung out. She looked edgy and confident in a short jean skirt with motorcycle boots. It was the Manny Pacquiáo t-shirt that caught my eyes. He was the best boxer around and the shirt she was wearing was way too small to be her boyfriend’s. Was she a boxing fan? Be still my fucking heart.
“Excuse me?” She pulled off her sunglasses and looked at me with dark, eyeliner-rimmed eyes that made the blue-grey of her irises pop.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” I came around the counter and smiled at her. “What can I help you find today?”
She tucked her sunglasses in her bag and looked around the library.
“Well, I thought I’d check out a book, but you clearly don’t have any of those here.” She held her stoic look.
“Fresh out, maybe come back tomorrow?”
She lifted a brow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you actually work here?”
I challenged her with my own lifted eyebrow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you actually have a library card?”
“Touché. It’s just where I’m from, they don’t make librarians like you. They’re more old schoolmarm types.”
“When was the last time you were in a library? 1950?”
Her lips curved, like she couldn’t help but smile. “It’s been a while since I had time to do anything but work. You’ll forgive my ignorance?”
I grinned. “I’m Archer. What are you looking for today?”
4
VERONICA
This job was going to be easier than I initially thought.
Sure, when I’d walked into this small-town library, thinking I’d stop and ask for directions to the nearest hotel where I could set up shop, I had the thought the librarian behind the counter with the dark, thick-framed glasses looked like my mark. But I’d dismissed the idea almost as quickly. What the hell would a wanted criminal be doing working in a small-town library? And no job would ever be that easy.
“How do you get Archer out of Daniel?” I raised my chin slightly at the black and white nametag pinned to his shirt pocket that read I’m Daniel. Ask me for Assistance.
“Uh…” He looked down at his chest, then back up at me. His dark green eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, “Archer’s my middle name.” He held out his hand, and the flirtatious smile he’d had since he realized I wasn’t whoever he was expecting curled back into place. “And you are
?”
“You can call me V.” I shook his hand firmly, then smiled back at him as I made a show of looking him up and down. “What can you show me, Archer?”
I may have been ogling him to play the role of a flirtatious woman looking for some books, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying what I saw.
The briefing Lieutenant Parsons had provided described Archer Janson as an accountant who’d been arrested for cooking the books of several local Chicago businesses. He was wanted for skipping bail—a runner, skittish.
The Archer standing in front of me hardly looked like the man from the pictures Parsons gave me. I’d expected a pencil-pushing, pocket-protecting nerd with a gun. This guy had to be at least six-foot-two, a hundred and seventy-five pounds of pure muscle, and looked like he spent more time in a gym than behind a desk. Not even the slight curl to his light brown hair or the glasses could take away from the raw power Archer exuded.
Made me wonder if the guy did some boxing on his own?
I usually let my gut read the situation before I really started analyzing everything, and my gut said Archer was not a threat. But I’d been hired to get him to Chicago and that’s all that matter. The law would figure out the rest.
“What sort of book are you looking for?”
“Huh?” I blinked a couple times, then realized I’d been staring. I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger and smiled. “Oh, just something good. Something that will hold my attention.”
“You got a short attention span, huh?” He smirked at me and slid his hand around my lower back as he led me deeper into the library. “Let’s just see if we can find something to keep your interest.” We wandered the shelves, and he pointed out a few of his favorites in the Thrillers section until a chime announced the door opening again.
“I should see who that is and if they need any help. Will you be all right until I get back?”
“Oh, I’m sure I can manage.” I winked and turned back to the shelf, pretending to be engrossed in the back-cover blurb on one of the books.
Lip Locked in the Library Page 2