by Aimée Thurlo
By the time they reached his sedan, his hands had clenched into fists and his body felt coiled. He would have loved a physical confrontation right now and the chance to work off that steam. But there’d be no such luck for him today.
They were underway within seconds. After they’d left the farmhouse far behind them, he finally relaxed again. She wasn’t going to be easy to protect—not while she had this fool notion of helping him to do his job.
“You know what worries me most?” she asked, then, without waiting for an answer, continued. “What if the break-in has nothing to do with Al? Do you see how that opens a door to a whole bunch of other questions? I don’t even know in which direction to look next.”
“We’ll find a lead,” he said. If Laura’s troubles really weren’t related to Al, that meant there was another dangerous player he had yet to uncover—one with a probable connection to his friend Doug.
“Since I’m at the center of whatever’s happening,” she mused, “I’m going to have to give things some serious thought and see what I can come up with. Then we’ll start looking into all of it together.”
Somehow he managed to suppress the oath forming on his lips. “Listen, Laura, for the record, I said I’d help you. I never said that we would be partners.”
She smiled slowly. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful how things worked out? Now you don’t have to go it alone on this case.”
The look he gave her would have cut most men off at the knees, but her eyes were bright with determination and it was clear she had no intention of backing down.
Burke focused on the road, wondering how he could be so attracted to such an annoying woman. It had to be hormones. Nothing else made sense.
Doug would owe him big time for all the aggravation this case was causing him. If he ever caught up to his buddy, he’d collect, even if he had to take it out of his hide.
IT WAS CLOSE TO TWO in the afternoon when Burke saw Laura and Doña Elena leaving the house. He’d waited for this chance since Laura had told him she’d be giving a talk on the craft of writing at the senior center today.
The moment Burke saw Laura’s car disappear around the corner, he signaled Wolf and walked over to her house. The front door was constantly opening and closing as workmen came and left with their tools and repair materials. Since the housekeeping crew wasn’t scheduled until later today, this was the perfect chance to finish what he had to do.
As he strolled inside the house no one gave him or the dog a second glance. Most of the workmen had already seen him earlier and probably assumed he was welcome.
Burke headed for the living room, studying the partial chaos around him. Elena and Laura had already started picking up the books and placing them back on their shelves. The first thing that struck him was the multitude of foreign language paperbacks. From their covers—many with similar images, but with titles in different languages—it appeared that Laura’s books had been translated widely.
Curious, he flipped through one of the English editions. He’d never read a romance novel in his life, but for her, maybe he’d make an exception. If he bought a copy at the store, and brought it back to her to sign, he could then tactfully point out that she was the writer and he was the P.I.
Though the idea was a sound one, he knew in his gut she’d ignore him and continue to try to investigate. It was obvious to him now that it was her nature to be irritating when she was after something.
He admired tenacity, but not in women who weren’t in the business. Why was it so difficult for her to let him just do his job? He would never try to tell her how to write. Why couldn’t she be reasonable about this?
Burke began to sort through the next stack and almost immediately spotted a book with an imprint he recognized. On the spine was the inverted triangle with a star in the middle he’d seen on Doug’s stationery. Two years ago, when Doug had first gotten the job, he’d written an honest-to-gosh letter on real stationery and sent Burke a bunch of business cards along with it. It had been his way of ribbing Burke, who usually didn’t carry business cards because of the secrecy that surrounded Gray Wolf Investigations.
Burke took the book in his hands, verified that it was the logo of a publishing house in West Medias, then, carrying the book, went to the sofa and sat down. He couldn’t read a word of Rumanian, so his attempt to leaf through it was totally unproductive.
He considered what he’d found. The West Median government was a military dictatorship. Everything was censored, particularly books, to fit the controlling regime’s philosophy. The link to Doug’s company was interesting, but hardly remarkable. Looking up at the shelves, Burke saw at least four more books from the same West Median publisher, with different titles. What had at first seemed a possible clue now faded into nothing more than a coincidence.
Then he felt someone approaching and stood up. He wasn’t sure how he’d felt her presence so clearly even before looking, but before he turned his head, he knew it was Laura.
“Hi. I thought you wouldn’t be back till later,” he said.
“I come back unexpectedly, find you going through my stuff, and that’s all you have to say?” She saw the book in his hands. “Don’t tell me you were looking for reading material to bone up your foreign language skills.”
“Are you kidding? I only speak three languages—Navajo, English and good-ole-boy.”
Suddenly a loud, annoying electronic buzzer went off. Wolf jumped to his feet, his ears pricked forward, his lips curling in a snarl as men, some of them grumbling under their breath, walked past him, heading for the front door.
“What’s going on?” Laura asked one man.
“You need to get out of here. The second I installed the carbon monoxide detector, it went off. If you stay inside, it could make you sick, or worse.”
“Didn’t you check the gas heater?” Burke asked as he headed to the door, Laura beside him and Wolf trailing behind.
“That’s not my job,” the man answered. “One of the guys had a wrench with him and shut off the gas, but we still need to clear out until the carbon monoxide level drops.”
Burke moved ahead of Laura, shielding her as they stepped outside, and leaving the door open behind them to vent the house. Her enemies were playing a deadly game. He had to find answers before it was too late.
HAVING CALLED the furnace installer from Burke’s house, Laura now stood outside along with the four workmen, anger coiling inside her. Someone was doing his best to turn her life upside down, and it was high time she started to fight back, and fight back hard.
As she watched Burke questioning the men, she remembered how she’d found him searching through her books. An ally with secrets wasn’t an ally she could trust or rely on wholeheartedly.
What bothered her most was that she probably wouldn’t have ever known what he’d been doing if she hadn’t returned unexpectedly, because the auditorium at the center had required some emergency plumbing repairs. At least Elena had remained behind to speak with friends, and hadn’t been around to see Burke’s behavior for herself.
Tension made Laura’s body ache. She hated having her life spin out of control like this. As a writer, she already had more than her share of insecurities to deal with. She could pour her heart out in the pages of her books, but there were never any guarantees the readers would like what she wrote. It often made for sleepless nights right before a book was scheduled to hit the stands. She put herself on the line every time a new title came out. Uncertainty was as much a part of what she did for a living as was owning a computer. Her way of compensating for all the self-doubts that came with creative work was to keep things at home running on an even keel. But now, all that was vanishing before her eyes, and there seemed to be little she could do to put a quick stop to it.
Laura swallowed and gathered her courage. Answers needed to be found and she’d never get anywhere standing here. She’d just decided to join Burke and help him question the other men when a white van with the furnace installer’s red l
ogo pulled up. A man stepped out of the vehicle and strode toward her house, carrying some kind of instrument she supposed “sniffed” the air for carbon monoxide.
Laura caught up to him, then followed him to the furnace in the hall compartment. “This heater is brand-new. How could it be leaking already?” she asked.
He shook his head and wrote some notes on the paper fastened to his clipboard. “Ma’am, when I left two hours ago, this unit was properly installed and adjusted, and worked perfectly. I’m very careful at my job. Someone must have tampered with the air balance after I left. The adjustment is way off. That’s why the burners were giving off a lot of carbon monoxide.”
“Just how bad was the carbon monoxide leak?” she asked, amazed that her voice sounded so steady.
He paused, considering his words carefully. “Providing you’re in good health, it would have made you sick, but the carbon monoxide might not have killed you for several days. It’s a different story when it comes to children or an older person, like the woman I saw here this morning. It might have killed her by morning, if she’d spent the night here. Elderly people are more…fragile.”
Laura felt her legs turn rubbery. She took a step back, intending to lean against the wall, but she suddenly collided against a rock-hard chest.
“Easy,” Burke said gently, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he steadied her.
The warmth of his touch eased the icy chill that had spread all through her.
Burke began talking to the technician, his voice crisp and businesslike. “Tell me, the arson investigator who was here earlier—do you know him?”
“Sure. His name is Springer. We’ve dealt with him off and on the past few years. Back at the shop today, he asked me a lot of questions about the furnace.”
“What kind of questions?”
Burke’s tenacity seemed unshakable as he pressed the man for answers. He was supremely confident as an investigator, and every word he uttered, and even his intonation, attested to the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. For a moment, Laura found herself wondering if he would also be that self-assured in bed. Would he be a patient lover, or wildly passionate and demanding?
As the installer moved away, Burke leaned down to speak softly in her ear. “Are you all right? I felt you shiver.”
Her thoughts had betrayed her. Embarrassed, but determined to cover it up, she moved away and forced her thoughts back to the business at hand.
“Whoever messed with my furnace gambled with Elena’s life. The thought of losing her… That scares me more than I can possibly tell you. Coming after me is one thing—I’ll fight back. But Elena…she doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Maybe you two should go away for a while,” Burke suggested. “In the meantime, I’ll keep looking into things here for you—”
“No way I’m letting this creep run me out of my own home. And though I’ll certainly ask her, I doubt Elena will agree to leave, either. She doesn’t like bullies, and giving in to one would be unthinkable to her.”
“All right. In that case, I better get down to work. I want to check with all the workmen here and find out if they saw anyone messing around the furnace—besides the installer, of course.”
“I’ll help you,” she said.
Most of the work crew had been too busy to notice much of anything except their own tasks, but an elderly man, one of the carpenters repairing some holes poked in the wallboard by overturned furniture, approached Laura while Burke went to question two men taking a break outside.
“I heard you asking questions about the furnace,” he said tentatively, “and I may be able to help you. A guy came in earlier today, but it wasn’t Artie, the man who’d done the installation for you. I assumed it was a gas inspector, but in retrospect, I guess I should have checked. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right. You couldn’t have known,” Laura answered. Seeing Burke coming up, she filled him in.
“Can you tell me what the man looked like?” Burke asked.
The carpenter considered for a moment, then nodded. “He had a dark blue baseball cap and glasses—the kind aviators wear, with the thin rims. He had a thick, black mustache, too. I also seem to recall that he was wearing a light blue service shirt, and that it had some kind of company logo on it—but I can’t remember what it looked like. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”
“You did just fine. Thanks so much for your help,” Laura said.
As he walked away, she looked at Burke. “I don’t remember seeing anyone who fits that description. Do you?”
“The cap, dark glasses and the mustache…I have a feeling it was all part of a disguise. People would notice that instead of him. He came in wearing a standard uniform and easily passed himself off as a workman.”
“It’s just so…planned. I don’t get it. Why is someone doing this to me?”
“Let’s go back to my place,” Burke said, cocking his head toward the door. “We need to talk someplace where we can have some privacy.”
“Okay.” She had a feeling he wanted to ask her more about Ken. Burke was probably wondering if there was something more she hadn’t told him. But the truth was she hadn’t kept anything from him. He was the one who was keeping secrets. She still wanted to know exactly why he’d been looking through her books. “You’re right about one thing. It’s time we laid our cards on the table.”
She saw the flicker of wariness that crossed his features, but he remained quiet as they walked down the sidewalk to his home.
As soon as they were alone in his living room, he gestured to the couch, silently inviting her to take a seat. “First, I want you to know that I will catch whoever is doing this. But I’m going to need you to be brutally honest. Is there something you haven’t told me about Ken Springer?”
“No, there isn’t.” She paused, then continued. “He told me on our second and last date that he never gives up on what he wants. I didn’t realize at the time what a curse that would become.”
“Think hard about this before you answer,” Burke said. “Is there any chance he may have joined forces with Al Baca?”
She gave him a startled look. “I really doubt it. As far as I know, they’ve never met.” As she held his gaze, sexual awareness seeped into her mind with the gentleness of a lover’s touch.
She looked away quickly. “You’re on the wrong track, Burke. There’s something else going on here. And unless I miss my guess, you know a lot more than you’re saying. Maybe you’d like to start by telling me what you were doing in my home, looking through my books.”
Burke considered his answer carefully before replying. “I could lie to you, Laura, but I won’t. I think you deserve to know the entire truth. But be prepared. This case is a lot more complex than I’ve led you to believe.”
Chapter Seven
Silence stretched between them for a long time as he gathered his thoughts.
“I’ve been hired to protect you,” he said at last.
For a moment all she could do was stare at him. “I don’t understand. Who hired you? And please don’t tell me it was Ken. If it is, I think I’m about to sock you in the nose.”
“No, not him.” Burke took a deep breath, then began to explain, giving her the highlights. When he finished, he studied Laura’s expression as she tried to take it all in. She was scared, but she was also angry. “The reason I’m telling you this now is because you need to know exactly what you’re up against and that this is no time for you to try your skills as an amateur sleuth. This is a bad business, Laura.”
“This friend of yours—Douglas Begay—he’s the reason you were searching my books when I wasn’t there?”
Intelligence and curiosity sparkled in Laura’s eyes. Burke had a feeling she’d throw herself even deeper into the case now. Suddenly he had another startling realization: as annoying as it could be, he really liked that fire in her, the spirit that compelled her to keep trying until things were right again.
Oh, yeah.
He was losing it. He forced himself to focus, and using his best no-nonsense, professional tone of voice, continued speaking.
“Doug Begay works in publishing. The reason I was looking through your books was because I was trying to find a professional connection between you two. Are you sure you’ve never met him? He used to live in this area. Would you like another look at his photo?”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I don’t know him—professionally or personally. Why don’t you just call him right now and ask him why he hired you to protect me?”
“It’s not that simple,” he said, explaining Doug’s situation as best he could.
It was tougher than Burke had ever imagined, seeing her trust in him falling apart. But he didn’t have any other choice. “I didn’t just happen to move in next door. The agency leased the house to help with the case,” he said at last.
As silence stretched between them, he didn’t press her to tell him what she was thinking. He didn’t have to. It was etched on her face.
Hearing his cell phone ring, and knowing it would be Handler, Burke excused himself and stepped into the next room. It was time to fill him in on the latest events.
AS HE LEFT THE ROOM, Laura remained where she was. She’d thought she could handle whatever Burke told her—that nothing could be as bad as having secrets between them. But she’d been wrong. She felt sick inside. Facing an unpleasant truth always hurt, but this cut deep enough to reach her heart. She’d let her feelings—and her fantasies—run away with her. Although she’d told herself to fight the attraction between them, she’d lowered her guard. Now she felt like a fool.
People—women—probably came in and out of Burke’s life constantly, all part of the cases he worked. The bottom line was that she’d simply been part of a job he’d been hired to do.
Angry with herself, she paced around the room. Burke had never really been interested in her. She had to accept that.