Once they were settled on padded outdoor furniture, Wyatt leaned forward and smiled at the woman. “You may remember I was interested in that silver spoon, the one the remote bidder purchased. I was hoping you could tell me who the buyer is.”
Her blue eyes darkened. “We can’t reveal personal details about the people who attend our auctions, Mr. Stone. I’d like to help you, but—”
“We’re not asking for anything private. Just a name. You see, I’m working on a story for my show that involves several Revolutionary War era spoons, including the one from your auction.” Wyatt spoke in a smooth, persuasive tone, oozing charm. “My producer would like to give the bidder an opportunity to appear on our show. You’d be doing this person a big favor, and I’m certainly not asking for an address or phone number. Nothing personal at all.”
“I don’t know. My boss—”
“We’d list your auction house in the credits as a helpful source. A plug like that would be great for your business.”
“I guess just a name wouldn’t hurt. Normally, we don’t allow remote bidders, but because he’s such an important man . . .”
“If that’s the case, surely you don’t want to deny him an opportunity to appear on No Stone Unturned.”
“It’s true these political people love talking about themselves. I guess . . .” She bit her lip and turned to her husband. “What do you think, George?” Her gaze flashed back to Wyatt. “I’ll admit, I told my husband about the caller, although maybe I shouldn’t have.”
He snorted. “I don’t talk out of turn. You know that. Do what you think is best, hon.” He leaned back in his chair. “In my opinion, the guy works for an idiot. I don’t know why you’d want to have him on your show, anyway.”
Wyatt pressed harder. “I can’t ask him without a name . . .”
“It was Mason Brower, President Cox’s chief of staff. I couldn’t believe my ears when he told me who he was.” Her tone grew more animated. “He said his wife collects antique spoons, and he would top any bid since their anniversary is coming up. He was real nice on the phone, even though he’s kind of a blowhard when he’s speaking at those news conferences.”
Talia rose to her feet. “We’ll make sure to tell the producers not to spoil his anniversary surprise. Wyatt, maybe you should ask the wife to be on the show instead of Mr. Brower.”
He pushed up from the glider. “That’s a great idea. She would probably love to talk about her hobby.”
Sheila let out a gusty breath as she and her husband walked them to the steps. “I feel better about telling you now.”
Wyatt held out his hand to shake each of theirs in turn. “You’ve been a big help. Thank you, Sheila.”
“You’re welcome. We watch your show all the time, Mr. Stone. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure was all mine. Thanks again for your time, and have a nice evening.”
They left the couple and crossed the lawn to their rental car. Talia didn’t say anything until he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
“Wow.” Her hands shook a little as she smoothed them over her knees. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Do you believe Brower is acting alone or working for the president?”
She thought long and hard before answering. “He probably doesn’t blow his nose without getting Cox’s permission. The man is a mouthpiece and nothing more. At least that’s my impression.”
Wyatt stepped on the gas to accelerate through the quiet streets toward the expressway. “I’d have to agree. What the hell do we do now? This is the president of the United States we’re talking about here.”
She shivered, despite the heat of the night, and rubbed her hands up and down the chill bumps on her bare arms. “I’m not sure where to even start.”
“How about with Senator Grant? Deirdre Gamble certainly took his summons seriously.”
“True, but John’s been at cross-purposes with Cox on more than one piece of important legislation the president has tried to push through the senate. Not to mention we don’t have any evidence he’s guilty of a crime. Not yet, anyway.”
“Do you think we can tie the president to Brower and any illegal activity they’ve engaged in the same way we connected Gamble to Jill Erickson?”
“I’m a damn good hacker, but unless he was stupid enough to contact his chief of staff on an unsecured phone . . .” She frowned at the red glow of brake lights ahead as traffic slowed for no apparent reason. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
He reached over and squeezed her arm. “We’ve had a long, tiring day. Let’s go back to our room and get some rest. You’ll think better after a solid night’s sleep.”
“You’re right.” She leaned against the headrest as the traffic picked up speed. “Nothing is going to change before tomorrow.”
“Except that bitch, Gretchen, won’t have a job. Rita probably already fired her.”
Talia closed her eyes as exhaustion weighed down her lids. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept more than a few hours . . .
Wyatt touched her shoulder, and she jerked upright.
“Hey, we’re here.”
She blinked a couple times. “I must have dozed off for a few seconds.”
“You’ve been out for about a half-hour. I stopped and got a pizza to go, and you slept right through it.” He opened the door, handed the keys to the attendant, and grabbed the fragrant box from the back seat before coming around to her side of the car.
She stared at him for a long moment.
“You okay?” His eyes held concern as he reached for her hand.
She nodded and stepped out onto the paving stones. “I must really trust you. I don’t relax my guard that way around most people.”
His aqua gaze warmed to the color of a summer sky. “Glad to hear I’m not most people.”
“You aren’t.” She twined her fingers through his. “You’re a special man, Wyatt Stone. Very special.”
“Right back at you.”
They crossed the lobby to the stairs and headed up. By the time they reached the fourth floor, she was fully awake and alert. When the elevator dinged, and the door slid open, she pulled his Glock from her handbag and pushed Wyatt behind her.
An elderly couple stepped out of the elevator and turned in the opposite direction without noticing them.
She laughed softly. “That got my adrenaline pumping.”
“No kidding.” He waited while she unlocked the door to their room, turned on the lights, and checked the bathroom. “Not that I’m thrilled to be shoved out of the way like a sissy who needs protecting.”
“You’re not a sissy, but I’m the one who’s armed.”
His eyes narrowed. “True, but I still don’t like it.”
“If we encounter anything nasty and slithery with scales, I’ll let you take the lead. Snakes and lizards make my skin crawl.”
He grinned. “I had a roommate once who kept a pet boa constrictor. His name was Fred.”
She shuddered. “Hell, no. I can’t even imagine.”
After setting down the pizza box, he turned and pulled her against him. “It’s good to know you have a few weaknesses.”
“You’re a definite weakness. When I’m close to you, my knees turn to jelly.”
Wrapping his arms tighter, he rested his cheek on her hair. “How can we make this work, Talia? I don’t see any way forward that doesn’t end in heartache for both of us.”
She squeezed back tears and clung to him. “I know. Work hasn’t been the only thing keeping me awake at night. I really, really don’t want to say good-bye to you.”
“I won’t ask you to quit your job for me, and I can’t move to Boston. Not until Bree graduates from high school and starts college. That’s still three years away.”
She could only nod. “You need to be with your daughter. I know that, and I would never, ever make you choose between us.”
“Then, what? An occasional weekend or va
cation together?”
She needed more from a relationship than that and knew he did, too. “I’d be openminded about checking out employment options in L.A. I quit the FBI because the regulations and rules were so restrictive, and Counterstrike gave me free rein to do what I do best. But maybe the Bureau would be different—better—on the West Coast.”
“You’d really be willing to leave Counterstrike?”
“If that’s what it takes.” She pulled back to look into his eyes. “I love you more than my work.”
“I’d walk away from No Stone Unturned in a heartbeat. But not Bree.”
She cupped his face in her palms. “I’ll make a few calls after we find a way to stop this current madness. Right now, that has to be our focus.”
“Agreed.”
He kissed her, putting a depth of emotion into the caress that cemented her resolve to find a way past all the obstacles. When he lifted her off her feet without breaking contact, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on while he backed her toward the bed. One sandal landed on the floor with a soft plop. The second one followed.
“The pizza will get cold.”
“I don’t care.” He stretched her out on the spread and scattered kisses down her throat. “I’d rather have you hot.”
She couldn’t stop smiling as he bunched her dress around her waist.
“How do I get this thing off?”
“There’s a zipper in the back.”
After a few moments of struggling, her dress sailed across the room, followed by her bra and panties. Wyatt stripped in ten seconds flat and dropped down on top of her. Stroking her hair back from her face, he kissed her.
“God, you’re beautiful. I could look at you all day, every day.”
“The novelty would wear off, eventually.” She closed her eyes as he pressed her hands over her head, enjoying the full body contact from her nose to her toes.
“Seriously doubtful.” He claimed her mouth, kissing her until they were both gasping for air. His eyes glazed slightly as he stared into hers from inches away. “As much as I’d like to stretch this out indefinitely . . .”
“No need.”
After retrieving a condom, he reached between them to cover himself. When the protection was in place, he eased into her, and she let out a moan.
“You destroy all my barriers. You know that, right?”
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I. Love. You.” Each word was punctuated by a hard push.
All her nerve endings tingled as she rode the wave of anticipation toward complete surrender. With a cry, she clutched his shoulders and shuddered as he collapsed on top of her.
Long minutes later, her pulse finally settled into a normal rhythm.
Pushing up on his elbows, he gazed down at her. “You okay? Am I squishing you?”
She let her lips curve into a smile as she held on a little tighter. “I’m a whole lot better than okay.”
After a moment, he rolled them both to their sides. “I don’t want to move, but my stomach is growling.”
“I could eat. That was quite a workout.”
Finally, he levered off the bed and stood beside it to look down at her. “We’ll have a naked pizza party. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
After he disappeared into the bathroom, she disobeyed orders and sat up against the pillows. With the warm night air drifting in through the windows, she didn’t bother to cover up. The breeze felt delightful caressing her heated, damp skin.
He came out a minute later, grabbed the pizza box, and joined her on the bed. His admiring gaze shivered across her as he settled the cardboard over his lap.
“Luke-warm, but that was totally worth it.”
She grinned. “Agreed.” Taking a piece, she chewed the rubbery cheese. “Brain food.”
He licked a drop of tomato sauce off his finger. “Oh? Do you have an idea?”
“I wish. We’ll have to handle this situation like we’re balancing a ticking bomb on a buttered plate while walking a tightrope that’s fraying at both ends.”
He grimaced. “That sums up the situation pretty well.” When his cell rang, he bent over the edge of the bed to pull it out of his pants pocket.
Talia raised a brow. “Who is it?”
“Kaitlyn.” The phone rang again. “I wonder what she wants.”
“There’s a simple way to find out.”
With a shrug, he swiped to answer and put it on speaker. “Hey, Kaitlyn. What’s up?”
“I tracked down John Adam’s spoon.”
He straightened against the pillows. “Oh, yeah? That’s great, especially since we didn’t get the one belonging to Jefferson. Where is it?”
“In Boston. I put out a few ads on social media a while back and finally got a bite. The guy sent me a photo, and it looks legit. This one has a bunch of thistles on the handle. I did a little genealogy research, and Alonzo Voss—he’s the man who contacted me. Anyway, his ex-wife is a descendant of Adams. He’s kind of a scumbag. Has had a few brushes with the law. The guy wants to know how much you’ll pay him for the spoon.”
Wyatt glanced at Talia. “What did you tell him?”
A rumble of voices sounded faintly in the background.
“What was that, Kaitlyn? I didn’t hear you.”
“Sorry, I was talking to someone. I told Voss you’d meet him tomorrow at noon to look at the spoon and give him a price. He said he’s busy later in the afternoon, so I hope you can make that work.”
“Hell, yeah, we can. Do you have an address?”
When she reeled off a street number, Talia bounded off the bed to find her phone and type in the information.
“Got that?” Kaitlyn asked.
“Yep. Got it. Excellent work.” He hesitated for a moment. “Sorry, but I didn’t get the teapot you wanted. I got outbid.”
A long sigh came through the connection. “Well, that sucks. It was a nice one.”
“Someone else started bidding, and I thought maybe he was connected to the spoons, so I backed off.”
“It’s not the end of the world. Hey, do you know what’s going on with Rita. When I called to tell her about Alonzo Voss, she was in one hell of a bad mood. Bit my head off then apologized and mumbled something about Gretchen before telling me to get in touch with you.”
“Her assistant has been feeding info to one of the parties who was after the spoon. Can you believe that? A whole lot of shit went down today.”
“Unbelievable, but I’ll have to get the full scoop some other time. I’m late for a date. If you have what you need, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Got it. Thanks for all your hard work. I appreciate it.”
“It’s my job, after all. Good night, Wyatt.”
The phone went dead, and Wyatt leaned back against the pillows. “Interesting turn of events.”
“I’m a bit relieved. We can recover that spoon in Boston before we tackle dealing with President Cox and his entourage of criminals.” She tapped her phone to pull up flights to Logan International. “There’s a flight with seats available leaving at eight forty-five in the morning. We’ll get in a little before ten. That should be enough time to arrive at Voss’s place before noon.”
“Go ahead and book the tickets.” He picked up another piece of pizza, bit, and chewed.
She tapped rapidly, entering their info. “There. Done.” Turning on the bed to face him, she screwed up her nose. “That pie really is disgusting.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and heat flashed in his eyes. “I could be persuaded to stop eating and go for round two.”
She moved the box and straddled his lap. “You sure you have the energy?”
He gripped her hips and pulled her up tight against him. “Oh, yeah. I definitely have what it takes to get the job done.”
She ran her finger down his chest. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Chapter Twenty
Wyatt leaned forward from the rear seat as their Uber driver slo
wed to a stop. The street ahead was clogged with two police cruisers, an ambulance, and a couple of other official vehicles, leaving little room to squeeze by.
“Something’s going on.” The driver turned to glance at them over his shoulder. “Want to get out here since the address you gave me is only a block away?”
“This is fine. Thanks.” Talia open the door and stepped onto the pavement.
Wyatt got out on his side and rounded the front of the car as the Uber driver reversed down the street and made a risky U-turn, nearly clipping a mailbox on the corner. Returning his attention to the emergency vehicles, he frowned. “I wonder what happened?”
“I don’t know, and I can’t see the street number on the house where they’re congregated, but it must be near the one we’re looking for.”
“I think it is the one we want. Shit. Someone must be dead since that black car has a coroner’s emblem on the door.”
When they approached the crime scene tape that had been strung across the small yard of the shabby, two-story gray house, a uniformed officer hurried toward them. “You’ll have to go around the block. This area is restricted.”
Talia rested her hands on her hips and gazed past him as a medic emerged through the open front door to guide a stretcher down the walkway. The white sheet draped over the figure was discolored with large, dark red splotches.
“We had an appointment to meet someone at this address.”
The cop’s brown eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his hat. “Who were you meeting?”
“A man named Alonzo Voss.”
“Are you a friend of his?”
She shook her head. “No, we were here to buy an antique spoon he had for sale.”
“He won’t be selling anything in his current condition. However, I think the detective in charge will want to get some information from you.” He waved a hand as he spoke into the radio mounted on his shoulder. “Step out of the way over beside my patrol car, please.”
Wyatt stared at the covered body as the two attendants wheeled it closer. “Is that Voss?”
“What was your relationship to Mr. Voss?”
“Neither of us had ever met the man.” Talia pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted rapidly. “I don’t know how we can be of help, but we’ll certainly answer your questions.”
Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4) Page 25