She pointed to the kitchen. “Let’s eat. If my mouth can’t be busy doing other things—kissing you for instance—it might as well eat.”
He fell in step behind her. “How was your day?”
“Eh. Good. I think. The phantom delivery showed up on the distribution report.”
Jack stopped at the doorway. “That’s good, right?”
“Yep.”
At the counter, she unloaded the bag and the aroma of mixed spices made her stomach rumble.
Jack grabbed a container, opened the lid and started on the next while she assembled the necessary silverware. The two of them worked in tandem, making all this domesticity seem easy. Or maybe comfortable was the right word. All she knew was she liked it. A major change from the quiet life she’d built for herself.
“How was your boss to you?” Jack asked. “Normal?”
“He’s fine. I’ve barely seen him. His assistant has been quite chatty. I see her all the time now.”
Jillian transferred everything into large, colorful bowls. When Jillian was a kid, her mother had worked nights. On the nights she didn’t work, they’d often made meals together. But on the evenings her mother was gone, with her father’s issues, Jillian had often been left to fend for herself with either microwave meals or takeout. All those meals were eaten straight from the containers. A trend that ended when Jillian moved out on her own and took control of her life. Now, she simply refused to have paper products on her table. Home and security meant sturdy plates and bowls that wouldn’t shatter with a bump or nick.
Jack carried two of those sturdy bowls to the table and came back for the remaining ones. “I like these. Nice touch.”
He noticed. “Thank you. I think so too.”
“What do you mean about the assistant being chatty?”
“Every time I need something, I have to ask Mary. I guess we’re BFFs now, because she asked me about the class I took on Saturday. She said Ned mentioned it.”
She stopped, focused on the bowl in front of her. Hang on.
Jack took the bowl. “What?”
“I don’t know that I mentioned the class to Ned.”
“Yeah, but you said you told the guy from the warehouse the other night. He probably told Ned.”
She shrugged. “I suppose. My paranoia continues. Speaking of which, I have a question about the alarm.” She pointed to the keypad by the slider. “The two buttons on the end are the panic buttons, right?”
“Yes. Press both keys and hold for five seconds.”
“And what about the glass-break sensors. How sensitive are they?”
He picked up the decorative vase, the one with the bright colors that added a festive touch for people entering through the back door. These days, the only people coming through her back door were burglars who wanted to terrorize her, but hey, they’d get a colorful greeting.
Jack held the vase up. “If this falls, the alarm will go off. As long as the alarm is on, any breaking glass will set it off.” He studied the scrollwork on the vase. “This is a nice piece. My mom likes stuff like this.”
He flipped it over to check the name on the bottom and his eyebrows shot up.
“It’s just a cheap thing I bought at the consignment shop. I thought it was pretty.”
He glanced at her, back to the bottom of the vase, then around the kitchen, his gaze furiously darting in all directions.
“What?” she asked.
He set the vase down and held his fingers to his lips before tearing off to the living room. Desperately, she wanted to ask what the hell he was doing. Aside from acting like a ninja assassin. She followed him and, once again, he turned to her and held his finger to his lips.
Yeah, I’ve got it. No talking.
Gently, he ran his fingers along the white trim around the windows and doorways, then dropped to his knees and looked under the furniture. What was he looking for? A minute later, he lifted his head and pointed at the lamp on the table. The one with the hollow base. He unplugged it, took the shade off and began dismantling the part that held the lightbulb. With the lamp in two pieces, he ran his finger along the inside of the base. His hand stilled.
“Shit,” he mouthed.
She moved toward him. “What?”
He pointed inside the lamp where a tiny black device—an ear bud maybe?—sat. She stared at it a moment. What the heck was it?
Setting the lamp down, Jack waved for her to follow him back to the kitchen but didn’t stop there. He went out the sliding glass door to the yard. When she joined him on the patio, he slid the door closed, grabbed her by the sleeve and led her to the farthest corner of the lawn.
“You’re not paranoid,” he said. “That was a bug. Someone’s listening.”
Chapter Six
Jillian stared up at Lynx with those big brown eyes that reminded him he’d been without companionship for almost a year. He’d love to look into her eyes every morning and that, for various reasons, scared the hell out of him.
She tugged her sweater around her to block the cold air. “Someone is spying on me?”
Sugarcoating it wouldn’t help. Besides, she didn’t seem the type that needed coddling. “Yes. Based on what’s gone on with you this weekend, and then the nonsense at work, you must have seen or heard something you shouldn’t have.”
She held her hands out. “The only odd thing, aside from the systems lockdown, was the weird delivery the other night. But that’s been resolved. I saw it myself on the spreadsheet Mary gave me.”
“Yeah, but it happened right before your house got broken into.”
Pausing for a second, she squinted. “Right after that, I was locked out of the system and asked to sign a confidentiality agreement.”
Two paranoid people could be quite the conspiracy theorists. He might be in love.
“No,” she said. “That can’t be.”
“We need to figure out what that shipment was.”
What the hell was he doing inserting himself into this? The year of no was an epic failure. His counselors all warned him about taking on everyone’s problems. When his life became a mass of people dumping their shit on him, he’d be overwhelmed by the weight of it all. That excess weight was a free ticket to the numbing bliss found in a bottle of pills.
If he helped Jillian, who else would he help? Then who else after that? Worse, he was attracted to Jillian. So, A) she needed his help and B) he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year and wanted nothing more than to pound himself into her body.
The odds of him getting through this shit storm without relapsing were not good.
“It was Baxtin,” she said. “A blood thinner.”
He focused on her moving mouth. Great lips. A little crooked and full. The year of no. “Did you see the actual boxes?”
“I didn’t. If the shipment is still in the warehouse tomorrow, I can check the paperwork that’s with it.” She dug her fingers into her hair and tugged. “What do I do about these listening devices? For God’s sake! They’re spying on me.”
“You ignore them.”
“What?”
“You have to. If we pull them, they’ll know you discovered them.”
“Yes. Then I can talk to Ned and figure out what the hell is going on.”
Rather than tell her she was nuts, he considered it a moment. “You don’t wanna do that. If they’ve gone to the trouble to plant bugs, they’re not just curious about what you do at night. They’re scared.”
She smacked her hands over her face.
Terrifying her may not have been his smartest move. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close so he could slide an arm around her. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget I’m not dealing with hardened politicians or mouthy spec ops guys.”
She rested her head against his che
st and he quietly inhaled her lavender scent while fighting to control his raging body. The one that had been without a woman over a year.
“All I wanted was a good job and to take care of myself. I’m twenty-seven years old and I’m building a great career. What have I gotten into?”
He shook his head. Maybe to answer her question, maybe to clear it. He couldn’t know. Not with his erection about to announce itself to Jillian’s lower region. Ignore it. Right. “I don’t know. But I’ll help you figure it out. Okay?”
And maybe, while he was ignoring his hard-on, he’d disregard the fact that he had nine years on her. Twenty-seven. The old-man jokes would be in full swing at the office. Might be fun, though. After all, what single guy didn’t want a hot young chick on his arm?
She snuggled in closer and the sex-starved man inside him snapped. Time for action. He nodded. Complete agreement on that one. No doubt. Except, it wasn’t time yet. He had eight more days before the horny bastard could run amok.
Jillian glanced up. “Okay.”
At this, he had to laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“The horny bastard inside me is reminding me I haven’t gotten laid and...well...you’re standing close. And you smell good.”
Most women would take the hint and step away. Or maybe smack him. Most women. This one? She stood there. Completely not moving. The hole inside him filled. All that emptiness that had kept him focused and alone and craving female company disappeared, and he wasn’t sure what the hell to do about it.
He cleared his throat. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go inside and have dinner. We have to eat that food or whoever is listening will know something is up. We’ll talk like nothing happened. They know you’ve told me about the confidentiality agreement, so maybe we’ll continue that conversation. It’s out there. We have to give them enough to make them think we haven’t found the bugs. After dinner, I’ll search the rest of the house. Tomorrow, you go into work like it’s any other day. Just act normal. Don’t talk to anyone about the bugs. Let them think you don’t know.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
He shrugged. “What choice do you have?”
“I can call the police.”
“And tell them what? That you saw a weird delivery the other night, at a place that gets deliveries every day, and now your house is bugged? You can’t prove who bugged the house. As it pertains to Stennar Pharm, there’s no probable cause for a search warrant. At the very least, you calling the cops will get back to your employer. If they are guilty of something, you’ll lose your job—or worse—because you brought heat to them.”
She took a second to absorb what he’d said. He was being a prick. Not exactly what he wanted, but she needed to hear it. Sometimes cops brought more trouble and he knew for damn sure she wasn’t ready for that. “I’m sorry. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet. Let’s find something to bring to the cops.”
“I see your point. It stinks, but I get it.”
“It’s one of those shitty things in life. No way to win.”
She stepped toward the house, but stopped, then turned back to him. “Unless we find the evidence.”
* * *
Jillian marched into her office, smacked the light on and checked the digital clock on her desk. 8:15. She was early. Just as planned. No sense letting anyone think she was on to their dirty, scheming ways.
The day ahead would be beyond emotionally draining. How was she supposed to pretend she didn’t know her employer had bugged her home?
Assuming it was them. But who else could it be?
Three bugs. That’s how many they’d found. Well, Jack found them. She’d sort of wandered behind him in a state of numb shock that left her screaming inside her head. No listening devices were found on the second floor. Her guess was the intruder she’d found on her stairs had been placing them and hadn’t yet gotten there.
Her shoulder twitched and she rolled it. All night she’d been up. Even with the alarm set, she’d barely managed an hour of sleep. Jack had offered to let her stay with him, but she didn’t think it a wise move.
On several fronts.
Aside from the possibly cataclysmic sexual attraction they shared, she was a homebody. Whoever was listening probably knew that. Breaking her pattern would only compromise her more.
Yet she still had no idea what it was she’d landed in.
Something big or they wouldn’t be breaking laws to find out what she knew. Which would be exactly zippo.
Today’s goal would be to somehow get around the thick plastic strap on the totes from the phantom delivery and see what was inside. Maybe it wasn’t the drug stated on the tote? Perhaps not a drug at all.
Ned swung around the doorframe and into her office. “Morning.”
She took in his golf shirt and navy Dockers. They were a casual workplace, but the executives were more often in dress clothes. Other than his mode of dress, nothing about his demeanor was off. Utterly confounding. If he were involved in the bugging of her house, wouldn’t there be some kind of tell? Some subtle change in his behavior? Anything?
Or did the lack of a tell mean Ned wasn’t involved? That he knew nothing about this? She simply didn’t know.
She slid her bottom desk drawer open, shoved her purse in and plastered on a smile. “Good morning. Did you need something?”
He leaned against the doorframe, settled in for a chat. “Nothing urgent. Wanted to let you know you’re getting new digs.”
“I’m sorry?”
“We’re giving you a bigger office.”
More changes. “I don’t understand.”
“I know it’s a surprise. Ted Ingrams will be working out of this location until we fill Greg’s spot. Ted’s secretary needs a desk. Since this office is next to Greg’s old one, we have to move you upstairs. It’ll be better. Your new office is bigger and will give you enough room for a couple of filing cabinets and guest chairs. You won’t be so crammed in.”
The second floor? The only thing up there was storage. Sure there were offices, but no people.
“Wow,” she said. “So many changes around here.”
“Change is good. The guys will be here this morning to move your stuff. Get packed up.”
Panic fired and her legs twitched. Why were they in such a hurry? “Which office am I going to?”
“The one on the east corner of the building. Not a great view, but it’s the biggest office up there. Eventually we’ll move some others, but you’ll have gotten to the best office first.”
She attempted a smile but wasn’t sure it worked. Her body was suddenly leaden. “Thank you for the bigger office. Who else will be moving?”
“We’re still working out the list. Maybe a couple new hires.”
Hardly an answer to her question. Realistically, she didn’t need an answer. If they wanted to get an employee out of the way, to isolate them, the best way to do that, short of firing her, would be to move her to the absolute farthest office from any activity.
He boosted off the doorframe and smacked his hand against it. “Congrats on the new office. I’ll see you at ten for the staff meeting.”
Jillian stared at the space Ned had vacated. In the span of two minutes, during a simple conversation with her boss, all the words he didn’t say reached her.
They wanted her out of the way.
* * *
Barely shy of noon, Lynx sat at his desk scrolling through his phone contacts when Vic strode into the office. Recently, Vic had spent most of his time overseeing the progress on Taylor Security’s training center an hour outside of Chicago. The training center was his baby and his daily focus, despite the grind of newborn twins at home, had been bringing his dream to fruition. Given his experience in black ops, he wanted the center to be a place
where operatives could practice or learn new skills once they left the military.
“I’m grabbing some chow,” he said. “You coming?”
“No. Thanks.”
“Why?”
Only Vic would ask why rather than just take no for an answer. “I’m hitting a meeting.”
“Again? You just went to a meeting yesterday.”
Was he his wife now? “Listen, sweetheart, don’t nag me. I’m going to a meeting.” Lynx went back to scrolling. People without addiction issues didn’t always understand. Even if he’d just been to a meeting, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t need another.
“Why?”
Lynx tossed his phone on the desk. “Because you’re making me nuts, that’s why. Because of you, I’m about to dive into a bottle of Vicodin. Happy?”
A smile spread across Vic’s face. He found this amusing. Of course he did. “Take it easy. It was an observation. Two meetings in two days is outside your routine. And you, my friend, like routine.”
True dat. Before Sunday morning, he’d been obsessed with his finely crafted schedule. Now, with Jillian and the crazy shit surrounding her, his paranoia about relapsing ran hot and deep and he wanted the insurance of an extra meeting. Plus, he’d kissed her last night. And what a risk that was considering his looming one-year mark.
Seven more days.
The only way he knew how to deal with the change in his environment would be to attend meetings and be around people on the same journey. So, yeah, he was going to a meeting today.
He picked up his phone again and starting scrolling.
“What’s up with the phone? You’re like a mad scientist.”
“I’m figuring out who I know on the Oversight and Government Reform committee.”
Vic raised his eyebrows. “What the hell for?”
Now he’s curious. The not so subtle hints for Vic to leave, to vamoose, to vacate were a bust. “I’m helping Jillian on something.”
“The redhead?”
Her hair wasn’t red. Not totally. Sort of auburn. Except when sunlight hit it. Then it looked red. Indoors, more brownish red. “Yes. She works for a drug distributor. Something is going on there. Don’t ask what because I don’t know. All I know is she saw an after-hours delivery Friday night, her house was broken into on Saturday and now the company has locked her out of their database.”
Opposing Forces Page 7