Dirty Deeds

by AJ Nuest

  And there it was, printed in black and white for the whole wide world to read. Apparently, Eden wasn’t the only one who’d starred in some surveillance this week.

  Kelly raked the hair off his forehead as he skimmed the article. A weird pressure built in his chest, and something between a cough and a strangled laugh caught in his throat. Seems an anonymous source had loaded a half hour video of Jaclyn Parsons onto the web, shimmying around in a ritzy hotel suite, wearing next to nothing while in the presence of several of her father’s male aides. According to the date-time stamp in the bottom right-hand corner, the whole affair had taken place while Jaclyn accompanied the senator on his latest campaign tour. Both alcohol and drugs were present, but the real kicker was the undeniable recording of Jaclyn’s voice, stating how campaign funds had paid for the party. That her father knew but didn’t care since he’d already bought enough votes to secure his reelection.

  A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth as Kelly read the last paragraph. An investigation of Senator Parsons’s finances was under way, along with his constituents who’d received kickbacks in exchange for their support. A lengthy stay in the slammer was expected.

  Kelly slowly lifted his focus to Molly and Archer. Oh yeah. That fiasco had Eden’s trademark stamped all over it. He chuckled, shaking his head. Holy hell, she’d done it. Even though he’d told her not to, in one fell swoop, she’d bagged both the senator and Jaclyn and hung them out to dry.

  Archer dipped his chin toward the sheets spread open on his desk, arms crossed. “Looks to me like Eden’s got the hots for you too.”

  Molly squeaked and softly clapped her hands.

  Kelly frowned, straightening from his hunch over the paper. While he couldn’t argue Eden’s revenge was a thing of beauty, something about the whole deal didn’t jibe. Especially when it came to Archer’s involvement.

  During the meeting, he’d acted like Eden was the updated version of Jaclyn 2.0, but come to find out the two of them had been working together? How’d that happen?

  Kelly cocked a brow, squaring off against Archer with his own crossed arms. “I thought you couldn’t stand Eden. Wouldn’t get near her with a ten-foot pole. What gives?”

  A muscle spasmed in Archer’s cheek but, after a few seconds, his shoulders fell, along with his arms. “Fine. She approached me after the meeting and, I gotta hand it to her, Kelly, the woman won me over. Sure, she’s devious as hell, but she’s also smart. Loyal, and a guy’s gotta respect that.”

  Kelly grunted. Archer had no idea.

  “Her heart’s in the right place. Even more so when it comes to the people she cares about.” He sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Look, she made it pretty damn clear you’re her number one priority. That’s gotta count for something, right? Besides, after watching how easily she slam-dunked a US Senator, I pity anyone who’s dumb enough to piss her off.”

  Kelly smirked. Then again, maybe Archer understood Eden to a T.

  He stepped forward and clasped Kelly’s shoulder. “You have my condolences, buddy, and on top of that I wish you some serious good luck. God knows, you’re gonna need it, falling for a woman like that.” His fingers tightened. “Now, do everyone a favor and go call her, will ya? Before D’Avella marches over here and threatens to have you committed.”

  Archer bumped his chin toward the captain’s office and Kelly snapped his attention to the far side of the room. Meredith D’Avella stood in her doorway, a copy of the afternoon edition tucked under her arm. She yanked the rolled paper free, tipped the end toward Kelly and, with a brusque flick of her wrist, tossed it straight into the trash.

  Spinning around, she stepped toward her office and then abruptly stopped, snatched the framed commendation Kelly had received from Senator Parsons off the wall and flung that into the garbage as well.

  Her door slammed with a resounding bang. A second later, a shrieking whistle pierced the thick silence, and Kelly pivoted toward the room. Someone let loose another whistle. A few people clapped until, slowly, one by one, everyone rose to their feet as they applauded the captain’s decision.

  Holy shit. Kelly smiled, tapping two fingers against his forehead in a mock salute. Eden had done this for him. She’d exposed Jaclyn for the liar she really was and, at the same time, made it so everyone would be willing to forget he’d ever been crucified by that mess.

  He’d never be able to thank her enough, but he sure as hell was gonna try. In person. And he wasn’t about to let another second pass without doing so the best way he knew how.

  Nodding toward Archer and Molly, Kelly grabbed the envelope she’d dropped in his inbox and stuffed it in his back pocket. He strode toward the hallway, cell in hand, thumbing in Eden’s number before his feet made the door.

  One ring. Then two. He repeatedly pounded the side of his fist against the wall. Come on, come on. What was taking so long? With the danger she was in, Eden should have her phone on her at all times.

  Dammit, what if something had happened? His pulse spiked at the thought of her bound and gagged in some filthy hole, Pratt closing in with his jagged knife.

  Three rings. Four.

  Christ, where the hell was she?

  Just as he was about to end the call and try again, the line clicked over.

  “Kelly?” She sounded out of breath, her whisper a little panicked. “What’s the matter? Is everything okay?”

  “No, Goddamn it, everything’s not okay.” He closed his eyes, reining in his frustration. She was being monitored, for Christ’s sake. She’d probably just needed a few seconds to get clear of any cameras.

  He glanced both ways along the hall and lowered his voice. “I’ve gone fucking crazy with missing you.”

  Silence.

  He waited, each second beating at him like a fist sporting a pair of brass knuckles. Shit, had he read her wrong the night she’d said goodbye? She’d purposely hung onto her number because she didn’t want him to call?

  “Do you own a bicycle?”

  His shoulders fell. Of all the things she could’ve said to him, that had to be last on the list. His chin dropped to his chest. Then again, he was talking to Eden Smith. With her, every gear in his head had to be cranking at top speed. “No, but I can get my hands on one. Whaddaya got in mind?”

  “I’m going to send you a text. Follow my instructions to the letter, and I’ll arrange some time to see you tonight. Deviate in the slightest, and my cover’s blown. Understand?”

  He hesitated. She was three steps ahead, as per usual, but something about the stilted way she spoke threw him off. Reminded him of the first time they’d met. And he didn’t like it.

  Shit, something was wrong, and without a clear shot at her face, there was no way he could tell what she was thinking. “Okay, what’s going on? Everything all right?”

  Another silence. Longer than the first. Goddamn it, was she pissed? Upset? Maybe too many people were standing around and she wasn’t comfortable talking on the phone. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  The line went dead, and he stared at the screen, the minutes ticking by on the digital display until his phone beeped with an incoming text. Okay, good. That whole conversation was weird, but at least she’d followed through with her instructions.

  He nodded, scrolling through her message. Yep, he should able to pull off what she suggested without too much fuss.

  Turning away from the wall, he started down the corridor, mulling over about a billion different scenarios to explain why she’d acted so cold. So distant. Not that any of them made sense. Or mattered since she’d agreed to see him.

  The long and short of it was, they’d spent too much time apart. But that was about to change. After four days of missing her, he’d finally have her to himself. In less than two hours, he’d be home, in Eden’s arms, and he’d do whatever was necessary to convince her, once and for all, she was his.

  Chapter 20

  Kelly coasted to a stop in front of the addr
ess Eden had supplied in her text and braced his scuffed high-top sneaker on the muddy curb. He tipped his head back and a few early snowflakes drifted past the bill of his baseball cap, dotting his cheeks and catching in his eyelashes.

  Damn. The top third of the lakeshore condominium complex soared so high overhead, it disappeared inside a blanket of gray cloud cover. This was where she lived? He scanned the balconies scaling the side of the building like a modern-day version of Jacob’s Ladder. Hell, in an upscale joint this size, the monthly payments on a utility closet had to max out somewhere around his yearly salary. Times three.

  The revolving door thumped its circular path, and Kelly dropped his focus to under the dark-blue awning as a uniformed doorman pushed into the freezing drizzle. He placed a gold whistle to his lips with a gloved hand and blew a series of sharp chirps that pierced the dense air like a musical version of Morse Code. A sleek black town car slid to the curb in front of the ten-speed Kelly had liberated from the evidence room and, a second later, a woman wrapped in enough brown fur to keep a grizzly toasty through hibernation exited the building.

  She gave Kelly a wide berth, nostrils flared and her chin perched at a regal angle, and approached the Lincoln. Movement dislodged her collar and a nervous Chihuahua popped his head out from inside her coat. Its black eyes locked onto Kelly and the dog growled. Then yipped.

  Jesus. Chuckling into the collar of his worn, hooded sweatshirt, he swung his leg over the bike to the ground. Eden had definitely hit the mark about one thing. People’s perceptions could be downright screwy. No woman had treated him like such a leper in…well, ever. Not to mention her dog.

  Then again, it wasn’t like he made a habit of visiting this swankier part of town. The low crime rate made for very few calls to the area. For all he knew, treating the dinner delivery guy like a pariah was the norm.

  Satisfaction settled in his gut as he squatted next to the bike, dialing in the combination to release the lock on the silver cable he’d wrapped around the frame. But that was a-okay with him. Yes, indeed-y, when it came to Eden’s safety, being demoted to a lower-class citizen because of the clothes on his back suited him just fine.

  He secured the bike to the nearest parking meter and slipped the lock in place, spun the numbers on the combination and used the distraction to scan the street. From the first night he’d stood watch outside that empty apartment, he’d assumed Eden did pretty well for herself. After all, not just everyone he ran across could afford to rent their own personal safe house. Coupled with her street smarts and business sense, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she kept several such locations throughout the city. Total the monthly payments on more than two places, and they were talking some serious cash.

  He collected the white takeout bag from the wire basket attached to the handlebars and, pausing to fake-check Eden’s order, took another quick survey of the area. Not that he gave two shits if she could rub elbows with Donald Trump. Hell, if anything, this confirmation of what he’d always suspected when it came to Eden’s finances made him glad. She’d never once flaunted her success in his face, and after the shit life had dumped in her lap, she deserved someplace safe to bed down at night.

  And if anyone disagreed, he’d be happy to grab ʼem by the scruff of the neck and drop kick their ass out the door.

  He strode toward the entrance and the hair along his nape prickled. His cop instincts kicked into overdrive and, at the last second, he shouldered the revolving door and pushed into the lobby sideways, searching the storefronts on the opposite side of the street.

  A step to the right, and he placed Eden’s dinner order near his feet, knelt on one knee and retied his wet shoelaces.

  Nothing.

  He shifted his focus left then right through the wall-to-wall windows encasing the front of the building. But the asshole was out there. Watching from the shadows. Probably tripping over his dick while he followed Eden around, waiting for that split second he might catch her alone.

  A loud male voice was cleared over Kelly’s right shoulder.

  Good. He jerked the bow in place. Hopefully, whoever was watching the door was a retired Mafia hitman with an itchy fist.

  He stood with a smile, snatched the food and approached the check-in desk. “Delivery from Gene and Georgetti’s Steakhouse for Ms. Smith.”

  The security guard gave Kelly the once-over, jaw set and his crossed arms straining against the seams of his black jacket. Excellent. The way he stood behind the counter like a relocated slab of Stonehenge, he sorta came across as that dude who guarded the Bifrost in the movie Thor.

  One of the guard’s brows rose, and a set of creases pleated the skin below his shaved head. “What happened to José?”

  Yep, great job. Kelly sneered. “Who am I, his mama? I don’t know, man. I just landed this gig yesterday.”

  Heimdall squinted. “Got any ID?”

  Grumbling, Kelly patted down his pockets and then whipped out the phony driver’s license the hostess had handed him when he’d picked up the food. “Here.”

  The guard jerked the card from Kelly’s fingers and grabbed the phone behind his desk. A second or two ticked by as he eyeballed the ID and then grunted, glancing across the counter at Kelly like he was dumber than a box of rocks. “Ms. Smith, there’s a delivery man here from Gene and Georgetti’s, but get this.” Kelly’s stomach seized. Shit, now what? “Driver’s license says his name’s David Starsky.”

  Aw, come on. Really? Kelly balled his hand against the urge to yank back the ID so he could see the name for himself. Dammit, handing it over without checking it first had been a moronic move, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it now.

  The security guard locked onto Kelly and he smiled again with a nod. Yep, that was him, all right. David Starsky in the flesh. And the next time he got his hands on Mocha, he was gonna choke the living shit right out of the practical joker’s neck.

  “Uh-huh.” The guard paused. “That fits his description. Very well, then. I’ll send him up.” A smirk twisted his mouth as he dropped the receiver into the cradle. “Sign here and follow me.” He tapped the visitor’s log and turned away from the counter.

  After scribbling a signature, Kelly followed the guy’s lumbering gait down a long, wide hallway centered behind the desk. Five elevators banked each wall, each standing open and vacant. The guard stopped at the fourth one on the right and leaned inside, keyed the lock and jabbed a button. “Number #4214. When you get off, head right.”

  Kelly stepped onto the elevator, gave a two-fingered wave and, the second the doors slid shut, he dropped Eden’s dinner beside his feet. Christ, this undercover bullshit was so not his style. He rubbed the back of his neck, cranking his head side to side to work out the tension. But at least now he knew no one was getting in—or out—without being stonewalled by the bouncer of Asgard. He flipped the baseball cap off his head, lost the gray sweatshirt and raked his fingers through his hair.

  The rest of the ear-popping trip, he dedicated to tucking in his A-shirt and straightening his collar. He checked the white envelope from Molly was still safely tucked in his shirt pocket. Then checked again.

  Dammit, the ride was taking forever, and with Pratt lurking around outside, Kelly couldn’t wait to get his hands on Eden and confirm for himself she was okay.

  The elevator finally opened with a bing, and he stepped off, Eden’s dinner order in one hand, his disguise in the other. The hallway was shorter than he’d expected, with only two doors located on either end. Near the one leading to her condo, a teenage kid leaned against the wall, staring down at his phone, knee bent and the treads of his sneakers braced against the paint.

  He lifted his head and pushed off, starting in Kelly’s direction.

  Okay, cool. Evidently, this was his “contact,” though how a skinny, teenage, Asian male was supposed to pass for him, he had no clue.

  Kelly sized up the kid as they neared one another, handing off the disguis
e as soon as they were within reach. On second thought, he was definitely tall enough, and once he’d yanked the sweatshirt down past the edge of his leather jacket and jerked the baseball cap low enough to shade his eyes, the effect was pretty good. Similar dark hair, same black jeans and, if nothing else, the bulky layers got him a lot closer to Kelly’s size.

  “I need the combination.”

  “Oh, shit.” Kelly dug in his pocket for the slip of paper and offered him the three numbers he’d jotted down to unlock the bike. “Silver ten-speed, blue seat, attached to the parking meter directly out front.”

  “You a cop?” The kid scanned the paper and then crammed it in his pocket. “You smell like a cop.”

  Kelly cocked brow. “And if I am?”

  “No, no, nothing.” A sheepish grin lifted his cheeks, and Kelly’s stand-in nodded toward Eden’s condo. “I’m just worried about her. She’s asked for my help twice in the past two weeks. Twice, after not hearing from her for over a year. I’m pretty sure something’s wrong and just think it would be nice if she had someone to watch out for her. That’s all.”

  “That’d be me.” Kelly stuck out his hand. “Thanks for helping her out. Only a little longer, and I’m gonna make sure she puts this whole thing behind her.”

  “Good.” Their palms met in a firm handshake, and Kelly turned as the young man headed for the elevator.

  Whatever Eden had done for him didn’t matter, even though Kelly was curious as hell to find out. Maybe he’d ask her someday. Or, better yet, he’d look the kid up on his own just to make sure his future had worked out as planned.

  He pivoted back to the hallway, strode those last few steps and rapped his knuckle against Eden’s door. Shifting his stance, he breathed through the quiet, shoved his hand through his hair and then tugged on the loose tails of his shirt to straighten the way they hung over his holster.

  The deadbolt snicked in the lock, and the door swung open.