Playing Dirty

by HelenKay Dimon

  Ford finished chewing. “It’s probably easier to call me than try to track me all over the city.”

  “Probably.” She watched him, fascinated how his hunger kept spiking while the tense topic sucked it right out of her. “There was nothing to see anyway.”

  “I travel light.”

  Since the discussion had gone better than she expected, she decided to poke a little more. “Does that philosophy apply to women as well as furniture?”

  His hand bobbled for a second on the way to grabbing his glass. “Not anymore.”

  “Good answer.”

  He pushed his half-­eaten salad to the side. “Am I in trouble for something?”

  They’d come full circle. She’d teased out the clues and tiptoed around the rougher topics. She wasn’t convinced she knew more now than she did an hour ago, but he hadn’t balked. He stayed calm and answered. Gave her a peek into how he handled a woman when she insisted on being heard.

  Once again Ford Decker impressed the hell out of her.

  Least she could do was promise not to lose her mind and scour his condo. “No, and I won’t go in your place without you again.”

  He shrugged. “You can.”

  After all that . . . “Really?”

  “I’m not hiding anything from you, Shay.”

  His eyes softened and her insides turned all gooey. “You’re not Devin.”

  The last part slipped out before she could call it back. Even in a nice moment Devin crept into her mind to ruin things.

  Ford nodded. “The infamous ex.”

  “He’s a dumbass.” She’d told Ford bits and pieces when they performed a cursory review of their recent dating lives and confirmed each of them was single. That came right before the birth control talk but after the kiss that sealed their attraction.

  “Good to know you get that.”

  She battled with the idea of telling him more. When her stomach didn’t squeeze in panic, she took the risk. “He used me to try to get a high-­powered position in Anthony’s firm. Took me out, made promises. It was all a lie.”

  “Okay, then I’d say calling him a dumbass isn’t strong enough.” An edge moved into Ford’s voice. “Where is this guy now?”

  “Why?”

  “I may want to run him over with my car.”

  She laughed but stopped when she realized she was the only one taking what he said as a joke. “It’s long done. He doesn’t matter.”

  “It sounds like something about him does. Maybe you’re not over the way he treated you.”

  But she really had overcome that hurdle. Ford came into her life and pushed out many of the bad Devin memories. She appreciated so much about him, but specifically that. ­“People suck sometimes.”

  “Very true.” Ford picked up his roll but didn’t butter it or make any move to eat it. “How did you figure out what Devin planned?”

  Hunger hit her out of nowhere. She dug into the salad, croutons first. “An investigator.”

  “You hired one?”

  “Anthony did.” She stabbed the crouton a bit harder than she intended and sent it skipping off her plate.

  Ford watched it bounce then picked it up and put it on the side of his plate. “I guess that’s one of those family things you were talking about the other day.”

  “He’s protective.” Choking that out ended up being tougher than expected.

  She loved Anthony but didn’t have any illusions about him. She never prettied up his actions or made excuses. He didn’t pretend to be anything other than what he was. He proved difficult to deal with and judged those around him with a harsh mental checklist no one could live up to.

  Devin hadn’t stood a chance. Then again, he didn’t deserve one. He used her. The fact that he lived down to Anthony’s minimal expectations made her hate Devin even more at the end. Devin had played a dangerous game and ticked Anthony off. She instinctively knew Ford wouldn’t be that stupid.

  “I’m not interested in Anthony or his money,” Ford said, as if he’d read her thoughts.

  She believed him. Ford was a self-­made man. And all man.

  Maybe she wasn’t hungry for food after all.

  Shifting her leg, she ran the tip of her sling-­back pumps up his pant leg. “What are you interested in?”

  Desire burned in his eyes. “Figuring out how fast I can get you out of that dress once we get in your door.”

  “I have faith you can beat your old record.” Though she did question how they’d have the patience to wait for the valet. The real debate would be if they should get home or pull the car over on the way. “But if you’d rather sit around and eat then maybe order dessert . . .”

  He motioned for their waitress. “I’m suddenly not hungry.”

  17

  THE NEXT morning, Ford headed into the Warehouse early. He threw on the nearest clean T-­shirt, which advertised a video game he’d never played. He’d already been in contact with Ellery by the time he hit the main floor. He had her tracking down information.

  Fact was, Shay had him spooked. Looking through his condo and talking about secrets. He always prepared for this sort of thing and didn’t keep anything in the apartment that could lead to his real work. Other than cameras and some traps to see if anyone looked at specific items, he purposely didn’t add security because that would only raise suspicion. But her discomfort added to his.

  By the time dinner ended last night they seemed to be back on track. He’d barely made it in the door before he stripped off her sexy dress. Afterward, she slept curled into his side as he replayed every word, every question she asked that night, to make sure her doubts were of the who-­am-­I-­sleeping-­with variety and not something related to his cover.

  No matter how much he fought back the idea, the possibility of her being involved in Trent’s schemes still lingered. Unlikely, but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down over a pretty face and great sex, no matter how compelling he found the woman underneath.

  Now, Ford hovered over Ellery’s shoulder, staring down at her auburn hair and watching in amazement as she typed faster than he could think. “There’s one more thing I need you to do for me.”

  Her fingers stopped but held over the keys. “Hit me.”

  Yeah, this was the tricky part. The request would raise questions. If the rest of Bravo found out Shay spent the afternoon shuffling through his stuff, they’d lose it. He could almost see the joint disappointment and hear the calls to bring her in.

  Ford wasn’t ready to blow cover. “I need to see the video from my condo for yesterday afternoon.”

  “Why?”

  “What the hell?” Ford jumped at the sound of Tasha’s voice behind him. She was one of the few ­people who could sneak up on him without making a sound, and she practiced the skill a little too often for his liking. “Where did you come from?”

  “My office upstairs.”

  She acted so cool under pressure. Nothing ruffled her. While Ford admired the qualities in a field agent, they annoyed the piss out of him in a boss. She could be everywhere, checking everything, and he’d never see the walls closing in until it was too late to duck and push.

  “Are you ever actually in your big office? Because I see you down here on the floor a lot lately.”

  The question brought a minute of silence. Noise filled the room twenty-­four hours a day. Conversations among the men and the hum of the equipment. But he’d managed to throw out a comment that drowned out everything else.

  Even Ellery glanced up at him. “Wow.”

  “Listen to Ellery and be very careful with the words you choose.” Tasha crossed her arms over her stomach and stared him down. “That’s your one warning.”

  She’d started in MI6, then headed up Alliance’s first office in London. She traveled back and forth but the best bet for finding her was to look f
or Ward. He’d made it clear that the two of them being apart for long periods of time wasn’t an option. Not that being in love softened either of them.

  Ford had given him all sorts of shit for falling so hard and being lead by body parts other than his brain. Now Ford feared he might have to eat those words. He never got the whole anything-­for-­a-­woman spiel. It sounded like some dumb line from a bad movie. That was before Shay.

  “I was nice enough to wait until you finished your request to Ellery before moving in.” With the British accent, Tasha’s comment sounded regal instead of threatening.

  Ford knew which it really was. “Uh, thanks.”

  “You can tell me what you were asking for and why, or she will.” Tasha’s head fell to the side and her hair swept over her shoulder. “And you can apologize at some point to Ellery for dragging her into whatever personal mess you’re cooking up.”

  “I figured you heard all of that when you snuck up behind me.” He chalked up her imposing demeanor and covert abilities to her past. Once an agent, always an agent. “Ward must hate that, by the way.”

  A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “No, he doesn’t.”

  Ford already had a front row seat to this romance. He didn’t want a replay. “I don’t want to know.”

  Tasha’s eyebrow lifted. “I could have come to your house and asked all these questions but I worried I’d interrupt you with your girlfriend.”

  Ford noticed Ellery started typing what looked like gibberish on her screen. It could have been computerese. He had no idea but highly suspected she’d perfected her ability to eavesdrop while pretending to work.

  He shifted so his back faced her then pitched his voice low to talk with Tasha. “Don’t call her that.”

  “Your mark? Your cover?” Tasha didn’t bother dropping to a whisper.

  “Calling her Shay is fine.”

  “Uh-­huh.” Tasha tapped her hand on the back of Ellery’s chair. “Would you excuse us for a second?”

  “Sure.” Ellery’s chair spun as she got up.

  Lines of text scrolled across her screen but everyone had cleared out, leaving only Ford and Tasha in the area. He didn’t like his odds.

  “Who is Devin Pinter?” Tasha moved over to lean against the desk Ellery had just abandoned.

  He bit back a string of profanity. “What?”

  The question hit Ford like a body slam. He’d expected the communication loop to land the request on Ward’s desk eventually. Looked like the chain buzzed faster than expected.

  “Don’t pretend not to understand me. You asked Ellery to check him out.”

  “Ten minutes ago. How do you know about it?”

  “Big brain.” Tasha tapped a finger to her forehead. “And, for the record, I know everything that happens here.”

  Not that he doubted her, but still. “That’s creepy.”

  Activity kicked up in the room as Harlan and Josiah walked in. Josiah took a seat at the conference room table and talked with his team. Harlan circled around to the desk area he shared with Ward and sat down.

  Ford hated the sight of them all sitting around. He’d ordered his team to assemble to put together a plan to move in on Anthony. The clock kept ticking down to the auction, the chatter had ceased, and the usual assets weren’t talking.

  “Feel free to spend time with Harlan instead of me,” Ford said. “He’s the one who needs help. And isn’t he supposed to be breaking Matt?” Which is where he wanted to be. He knew he could get something out of the guy if he had ten minutes and West by his side.

  “Harlan is fine. He also works for me.” Tasha gripped the desk on either side of her hips. “You might want to remember I handpicked him.”

  Except for that one choice, Ford agreed with all of her decisions at Alliance, including her insistence that the team was needed in the first place. “Why is that again?”

  “You all have skills.”

  Ford watched Harlan smooth down his tie then do it a second time. “Being a pompous prick is a skill?”

  “You’re not that bad.”

  Ford’s gaze shot back to Tasha. “Funny.”

  “One of my many skills.” She fingered the top page of the notepad next to Ellery’s keyboard. Ellery had scribbled a few things down while he talked earlier but the writing looked more like wavy lines than words. “Now, stop stalling. Devin Pinter. Explain.”

  Ford knew from experience when Tasha fell back on a monotone delivery of staccato sentences that his time was up. “This Devin guy is someone I thought we should check out.”

  She sighed at him. “You mean someone who once slept with Shay on a regular basis and in your jealous rage you want to hunt down and beat the shit out of.”

  And that would teach him to try to hide anything from Tasha. Ford made a mental note to not try again, or to at least get better at his office subterfuge skills if he did.

  “He’s connected to her uncle.” The guy also treated Shay like shit. Not the same way Ford was doing it, but by breaking her heart. By using her.

  In his head Ford tried to separate his behavior from Devin’s and stumbled. As if he didn’t get bombarded by guilt enough on a daily basis already.

  Tasha stood up straight and motioned for Harlan to come over. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but we don’t use multi-­billion-­dollar surveillance equipment to track down ex-­boyfriends of the woman you’re currently dating. You can’t aim a drone at him either.”

  “We’re not—­” Ford gave up when she raised an eyebrow at him. “Damn, fine.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I would point out you’re invading my privacy.” And he tried to do it fast because Harlan was making a beeline in their direction and Ford wanted the conversation over before he joined them.

  “If you’re using Alliance resources it’s not private.”

  Her authoritative tone and Harlan’s closing advance took the fight right out of Ford. He’d managed to stall enough to avoid answering her questions. That would have to be good enough for now. “Fine.”

  Harlan stopped next to Ford. “Yes?”

  “Give us a status on Trent’s boss,” Tasha said.

  “Despite some persuasive methods and his constant calls for his lawyer, Matt isn’t saying anything we don’t already know from what he gave up and what we see in the records.” Harlan’s voice rang out as he gave the verbal report.

  Ford had to give Harlan credit. He could be arrogant and far too by-­the-­book for his taste but Harlan didn’t flinch at having a woman give him orders. He fell into line like the good soldier he was.

  While he respected the hell out of Tasha, Ford didn’t possess the obedience gene. “Anyone have news on the missing guard?”

  “Unfortunately.” Harlan pulled a piece of paper out of his pants pocket and unfolded it. “I was just putting the report together but it looks like the DC police got a domestic call and found the guard this morning. Hanged in his girlfriend’s bathroom. She was shot, bled out on the tile floor. They’re saying it was a murder suicide.”

  Tasha swore under her breath. “Great.”

  “No surprise there.” The loss didn’t even measure as a hiccup for Ford. He saw this coming. The only true victim was the girlfriend, and at some point, when this all ended, he’d spare a thought for her.

  The guard had played a role and it was over. Whoever ranked above him couldn’t afford to keep him alive. It was the method Ford found interesting. It showed thought and planning. Pulling off a fake scene that convinced law enforcement took skills. It suggested a level of professionalism that passed Trent and pointed to the bigger presence behind the plan.

  “Here’s the name and address information, along with the detective in charge.” Harlan handed over the paper without looking at it.

  The cycle would now start. Tasha would work her magic a
nd commandeer then steer the local investigation. Lines connecting that guy to Trent would be erased and the public would never know the danger that lurked while everyone slept.

  The only good news out of all this was that they could now chase other leads. “Any chance of a money trail from Matt to Trent or anyone else?”

  Harlan shook his head. “Ellery is searching but Matt is so clean he squeaks.”

  Too perfect. Too convenient. Ford knew from experience that when things looked shiny and new they were often dull underneath. This Matt guy seemed pretty damn dull. “I don’t like it.”

  “Me either,” Harlan said.

  The piece of paper disappeared in Tasha’s hand then into her black pants pocket. “Look at you two, agreeing on something.”

  Harlan waved off her comment. “We both want Trent stopped. Only our methods differ.”

  He sounded reasonable. If Ford was the type to care about someone else taking the high road and making him look bad, he might get ticked off, but no. “Except that I think you screwed up Hampstead and almost turned me into the juicy center of a fireball.”

  “And that ends my attempt at team building.” Tasha added an eye roll to her long-­suffering sigh before turning to Harlan. “Keep looking. Our time is almost up. We have to stop this before it gets to Yemen. Once there our only chance is an all-­out assault which will leave everyone dead, including most of Alliance.”

  Not all of them. “Bravo would be fine.”

  “Sometimes I honestly think you believe you and your team can outrun a bullet.”

  Ford would bet money they could. “Pretty much.”

  “Right.” Harlan nodded and left without acknowledging Ford.

  Not that Ford blamed him. “I do like the way he says ‘right’ and a few other words. His accent matches yours.”

  They both watched Harlan leave the floor and head in the direction of the interrogation room they’d been using for Matt. Tasha piped up. “You could be less of an ass where Harlan is concerned.”