Boxed In (Decorah Security Series, Book #16): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel

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Boxed In (Decorah Security Series, Book #16): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel Page 11

by Rebecca York

Carl was still thinking that Luke and Olivia had stolen the box. Now the guys who played rough were after them.

  He stopped a hundred yards away and waited for fifteen more minutes. When he decided it was safe, he climbed out of the car and walked back to the office.

  Hurrying up the driveway, he stopped short when he got to the garage. The big door was locked. Quietly, he slipped around to the side and turned the knob on the door—and was delighted to find it was unlocked.

  Sloppy!

  What the heck did the guy think he was doing?

  Inside, Carl fumbled for the switch and turned on the overhead light. Then he looked around. There were computer parts sitting all over the worktables. How much was this stuff worth, anyway?

  Carl walked around the room, looking for something that would help him. Then he saw the filing cabinet and started riffling through the folders.

  He might have thought this company would store everything in its computers. But apparently they wanted paper backup—like most other people.

  There were folders for various guys who worked at the company. When Carl hit Garner’s client list, he began reading names. There were only a few. Some were for his business. And some were private residences. That sent Carl’s mind working. Maybe one of those people would be willing to put up Luke and Olivia.

  He folded the sheet of paper and slipped it in his pocket, then exited the garage, closing the door behind him.

  oOo

  The importer had thought he was being careful, but he was an ordinary man and one who hadn’t been trained in covert operations. Smith, Brown and Jones were much more adept at the covert skill.

  After striking out at the woman’s apartment, they’d used the special equipment they’d brought along to trace the man’s cell phone to his address.

  They had arrived at his place of business twenty minutes before Peterbalm and started scouting the area, preparatory to approaching the garage from three different directions.

  Just before they’d climbed out of the car, a man had come hurrying up the sidewalk. From their photos, they knew it was Carl Peterbalm.

  “He’s looking for the computer guy,” Mr. Brown said.

  “How do we know?” Smith challenged.

  “He is using the same logic as we are.”

  They watched him go in—then watched him come out again a few minutes later.

  “He’s still in a hurry. He didn’t find the man or the woman,” Brown said.

  “But his steps are purposeful. He thinks he knows where to locate them.”

  “You hope,” Smith whispered.

  They waited until Peterbalm had returned to his car, climbed in, and driven off before easing out of their own parking space and following—with their lights off.

  oOo

  Luke typed in the question Olivia had asked, and the answer came back almost at once.

  He turned to her and said, “The items were smuggled into the country in a shipment of stolen antiques.”

  Olivia sucked in a sharp breath. “Stolen! I was afraid of something like that.”

  “Those men stole the box?”

  “No. They have been tracking it down. They almost found it in France. Then it shipped out with the Peterbalm consignment. Everything in the cargo boxes was hot.”

  “Oh great.”

  Another message came through. “The Grand Master wants us to bring the box to them.”

  “When?”

  “He’ll give us instructions.”

  “Okay.”

  Luke leaned back in the chair, looking worn-out. He’d been transacting the warrior’s business for hours. There was nothing more he could do until he received further information.

  “Now what?” Olivia asked.

  “We have to wait until they give us the location of the temple.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . .” He stopped and thought. “Because it is not always in the same place.”

  “How could that be?”

  He shrugged. “They hide their presence.”

  “How can it move around?”

  “By utilizing an alternate space-time continuum.”

  “Glad I asked.”

  “Few people would understand it.”

  “Do you?”

  He huffed out a breath. “No.” After a long moment, he turned and looked at Olivia. “I’m sorry you got caught in all of this.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. Carl Peterbalm should have been more careful.”

  “Probably he thought it was a fantastic deal.”

  “If the deal was that good, he should have been suspicious.” She sighed. “He’s a jerk.”

  When they exhausted the subject of Carl Peterbalm, Luke shifted in his seat, looking like he was feeling awkward.

  So was Olivia. They’d known each other for a month and hadn’t managed to get close, although they’d been attracted to each other. But a couple of hours ago, they’d made wild, frantic love. Although she longed to ask if he was having second thoughts about that, she couldn’t get the words out.

  She turned and looked out the window into the night. She wanted to tell Luke that the password had been a sign that they should contact the Decorah Security agency. But she suspected the warrior wouldn’t let him do it.

  When she said, “Let’s try to relax while we’re waiting,” she could see some of the tension melt out of Luke’s shoulders. “I think I saw some hot chocolate down in the pantry. How does that sound?”

  “Good. But I need to stay at the computer, in case I get e-mail.”

  “I’ll go fix the chocolate.”

  He gave her a long look, all business again. “Are you going to make any phone calls?”

  “No.”

  “Or leave?

  “I’m just fixing chocolate!”

  “How do I know?”

  “Because I want you to trust me,” she whispered.

  He answered with a tight nod.

  She hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. She could have been lying to him, of course. But she wasn’t. She wanted to call Beth and tell her to call Decorah. But she wasn’t going to go behind Luke’s back.

  Instead, she quickly boiled water, then added the instant powder. When she searched through the pantry, she also found a bag of marshmallows and added one to each mug.

  In less than four minutes she was back.

  Luke’s chair was turned toward the door. And she suspected that if she’d tried to make a call or open the door, he would have been down the stairs before she could blink.

  “Nothing yet?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  She handed him the mug, and he smelled the chocolate. When he took a cautious sip, his face registered surprise. She knew the reaction came from Zabastian, not Luke.

  “You have wonderful foods here,” he said.

  “How is it that you keep acting surprised at stuff like that? I mean, about things that Luke knows perfectly well?”

  “It is ordinary to Luke. But not to Zabastian.”

  She held up the cup. “This kind is made from a mix. Maybe I’ll get a chance to fix you the real thing. It’s even better.”

  Luke grinned at her. “It’s not just Zabastian. Actually, I’ve never had the real thing either.”

  “My mom used to make it for a treat. Dad would build a fire in the fireplace, and we’d sit around watching the flames and drinking the chocolate.”

  “That makes a nice picture,” he said wistfully.

  “My apartment doesn’t have a fireplace. But I have the makings for chocolate. Next time, I’ll fix it for you.” She stopped short, wondering if there was going to be a next time.

  Luke’s expression told her he was thinking the same thing.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “I’d like to talk to Luke for a while.”

  The man across from her nodded. When his face took on a subtle change that she’d grown to recognize, she knew that Zabastian was sinking into the background. Giving her and Luke space�
�if not exactly privacy.

  She rotated her cup, watching the marshmallow spin around and feeling awkward. If anyone had told her she’d be in this situation, she wouldn’t have believed them.

  “What’s swirling around in your head?” Luke asked.

  “I’m that obvious?”

  “Um hum.”

  “A lot of things.” Before she could stop herself, she said, “Like for example—I’m hoping you don’t assume I’m the kind of woman who has one-night stands.”

  “That’s not what it was!”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  He ran his hand over his face. “Maybe that’s all you want out of it.”

  “Are you trying to push me away?” she challenged.

  “Are you trying to back away?” he countered.

  She made a frustrated sound. “No. But we got into this relationship backwards. I’ve never slept with somebody first, then tried to get to know him better.” She stopped abruptly, wondering how that sounded. “I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed, so that might have come out wrong.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said quickly.

  “I could have been so embarrassed that I walked away from you.”

  “Don’t!” He cleared his throat. “You’re not angry that I came to Peterbalm under false pretenses?”

  “I would be, if I hadn’t realized protecting the box was important.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  The way he said it gave her confidence that perhaps they could get through the awkward part and work their way into something meaningful. “So, maybe we can get to know each other better. I mean me and Luke,” she qualified. “I’d like to know more about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re from Baltimore, right?”

  “I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. My grandmother raised me after my parents split up,” he said immediately. “She was a secretary at a marine shipping company.”

  She heard herself laugh. “That’s a real icebreaker. Is that how you start conversations in bars?”

  “I’m not much for picking up women in bars.”

  “Good. That's not where I want to meet men.”

  He shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to give you any false impressions. About me or my background."

  oOo

  Carl Peterbalm turned on the car light and consulted the list that he’d taken from Garner’s office. He’d already tried two customers who might have taken in Olivia and the computer guy. Now he was going to try the third most likely. The house had risen to the top of the list, because the last people had told him the Hanovers were out of town.

  As far as Carl was concerned, that made their residence a grade A hiding place.

  After programing the GPS, he was feeling a lot more optimistic about getting his property back. If he could clear this whole thing up in the next couple of days, his dad wouldn’t have to know a thing about how he’d messed up."

  oOo

  Okay. I'll be honest too." Olivia gave Luke a challenging look. “A little while ago, I was thinking that distancing myself from you would solve my problem. Now I’m thinking that would be the coward’s way out. “How do you feel about us?”

  “That’s certainly a direct question.”

  “Do you want to put distance between us?” she persisted.

  He shifted in his seat. “No.”

  She’d been holding her breath. Now she let the air trickle out of her lungs. “Good.”

  He took a sip of chocolate, then looked at her. “I liked you the first time I met you. I wanted to get to know you better. But I knew getting involved with you would complicate my assignment from Decorah.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re still being pretty direct.”

  “I figure we’ve been in a pressure cooker and living through the equivalent of six months together in the past few hours. That gives us the ability to cut through a lot of ordinary stuff.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But we still don’t understand each other. I’m guessing you don’t know how much I admired you.”

  His features registered shock. “You admired me?”

  “After you showed up at the office, I asked around about you. I knew you came from a . . . . disadvantaged background.”

  “And I didn’t go to college,” he added, putting that piece of information squarely between them.

  “Right. And I did. And to give you the short version of my life, I had loving parents who made a good home for me in Catonsville. Dad was a pharmacist for a drugstore chain. And Mom was a teacher’s aide in an elementary school. I got a partial scholarship to The University of Maryland—Baltimore County. I majored in fine arts, and I had big dreams of what I was going to do with my life. I wanted to start my own business. But my dad died while I was in college.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Mom is living on the widow’s portion of his pension—which is just enough for her to get by.” She heaved in a breath and let it out. “I had to go to work for a bastard like Carl Peterbalm because I had debts to pay. So here I am—two years out of college, and I haven’t done any of the things I want to. But you have. You worked for a computer repair company. Then you got a job with Decorah.”

  His expression turned bemused. “You sure know a hell of a lot about me!”

  “Well, I didn’t know the Decorah part. But I was glad you came back to town. And I found out about you from Betty Custer, who works down the hall.”

  “Betty went to school with me.”

  “I know. And she said you were kind of wild.” She laughed. “She thinks it was because you had low self-esteem.”

  The color in his cheeks heightened. “Nice of her.”

  “It was true, wasn’t it? That’s why you went out of your way to be a tough guy in school.”

  His face contorted. “Okay. Yeah.”

  “I’ll bet your grandmother is really proud of you.”

  “She was. She smoked all her life, and she died of lung cancer last year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She had a hard life. I tried to make things better for her. She wanted to die in her own home, and I was able to get a hospital bed for her and arrange nursing care.”

  “That must have been expensive.”

  “You can get the bed from a hospice organization. But the nursing care set me back a bundle.”

  “Even so, you gave her what she wanted in the end.”

  He swallowed. “I wanted her to know how much I loved and respected her.”

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “I gave her a hard time when I was a teenager,” he said quickly. “Some other tough guys in the neighborhood and I used to boost cars and go joyriding.”

  “I got in trouble, too.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Hooking class with my girlfriends.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “It was cool. And so was smoking. I’m lucky I hated those little pieces of nicotine in my nose.”

  “Yeah. Very lucky.”

  He tipped his head to the side, studying her, and she struggled to hold her gaze steady.

  “I don’t see you as being a conformist.”

  “I’m smarter now.”

  He nodded, then finished the last of the chocolate in the cup. “I should practice some of my exercises,” he said.

  “Exercises?”

  “Zabastian says my body isn’t as limber as it should be. He says I’m not prepared for . . . trouble.”

  “Are we expecting trouble?” she asked, hearing her voice go a little high.

  “I hope not. But I should be ready.”

  “You want me to . . . go somewhere else?”

  “You can stay.”

  She pushed the desk chair into a corner and sat down, watching as Luke slipped off his shoes and socks before dimming the light in the room. Only the desk lamp provided a small amount of illumination as he stood in the center of the rug with his arms hang
ing at his sides.

  His lips moved, and he spoke words she couldn’t hear as he raised his arms above his head before folding in the middle, then dropping to his hands and feet in a posture that she recognized as a yoga pose. Downward facing dog.

  He went through more yoga moves like the salutation to the sun. She’d taken some classes and seen it done before—but never as fast as Luke was executing it.

  She watched as he slipped easily into a zone where he was far away from her and from the world.

  Then he went into some of what she knew were the warrior poses.

  He seemed to be operating on another plane of existence—until the doorbell rang. As the sound reverberated through the house, he snapped instantly back into the real world.

  She and Luke stared at each other.

  “Are we expecting company?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  He moved to the window and looked down toward the front door, but the view was obscured by the porch roof.

  Luke pushed down the arm of the desk lamp so that the light in the room was barely visible.

  "I'll keep watch on the street. You slip downstairs and into the dining room. Look out the window and see if you can tell who's on the porch."

  The doorbell rang again.

  Olivia hurried downstairs and into the darkened dining room. When she looked out the window, she saw a bulky man standing on the porch. Because the light was off, it took her several seconds to recognize him. It was Carl Peterbalm.

  He was holding something in his hand, and she saw it was a flashlight. She jumped back, but maybe he had seen the movement in the darkness.

  The beam zeroed in on the window. She saw Peterbalm’s face register shock—then triumph.

  “Olivia!” he shouted. “I see you in there. Let me in.”

  Chapter 10

  Olivia heard Luke pound down the steps. He grabbed her arm and was pulling her away from the door when the three men who had tried to steal the box ran up the walk.

  She gasped when she saw who they were.

  They’d found her and Luke again. Or rather, somehow Carl Peterbalm had found them. And the men had figured out who Carl was and started following him. It had been an excellent strategy because he’d led them to the right place.

  One of the men grabbed the importer and spun him around. Carl gasped as the man threw him to the ground.

 

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