Mitch licked the potato chip salt from his fingers. “I’m shocked as hell at this collaboration we’re doing with Reese Bryant, but damn glad. Four hours, Jayne, and you’ve traced the link between Tarik and the missing funds. Gotta be a record.”
“Both Reese and I are damn good at our work, and together we’re worthy of Mensa status,” Jayne said, lifting Parker’s hand and examining his fingertips. Her touch was cool against his fevered skin.
“Did you burn yourself, Parker? You’re skin is rough and red.”
Everly sat up straight, raised her hand, and waved. “Hey, I get some credit for giving you the key to his algorithm. Using that weird combination of letters from his mother’s name to create the numerical access code to his accounts bordered on sick. But still, if it weren’t for me, finding that piece of paper…well, anyway, I should get some credit.”
“You do,” Reese and Jayne said in unison, glancing at each other.
“Maybe we should give her a gold star.” Jayne reached across the table and drew a star on the paper sitting in front of Everly.
“Thanks, Jayne.”
Mitch nudged her with his elbow. “Get back on task, Sunshine. We still need to know how Tarik was connected to Joe Stephens. There has to be a money link of some kind there, and my gut says Stephens killed Tarik. Did your security team get anything from the tapes, Parker?”
Reese Bryant hustled into the room, a couple of liter bottles of soda in her arms. “Mine did. They’re briefing Chief Hayes right now. Stephens was manning the entrance to Steele Management, Inc. while your guests arrived for the fundraiser—” she put the bottles down and eyed each of them in turn— “dressed in a too-small uniform. Must have borrowed it. We’ll get him for this in spite of Everly lifting a key piece of evidence from his desk.” Her voice held a bite.
“I knew it. And it didn’t even take my ESP fingers to figure it out. Well, it sort of did. I caught a glimpse of it when we shook hands. Still, that puts him at the scene, and it’s admissible evidence, unlike the images flashing through my head.”
Reese nodded. “Right, and drumroll please. I have the autopsy report on Tarik. But before we talk about that, I need to get an official recording of the things we discussed about your family connection, Parker. Now, okay?”
“Sure.” He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
What the hell is wrong with you? This information is critical to prosecuting Stephens.
She clicked the recorder on, stating the time, his name, and the names of everyone else in the room, then pointed her finger at Parker, a signal to begin.
“Mary Francis Stephens, my aunt, was my mother’s younger sister. They weren’t close, but Aunt Mary married her high school sweetheart, and they had Joe a few months later.” Parker crumpled a napkin and rubbed at the sweat dampening his forehead.
“Mary and her husband worked at decent jobs, but spent more than they made. Then Aunt Mary was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s and has been hospitalized for years. My mother sent a monthly check to cover her expenses, and my accounting department has continued the practice since my mother’s death. I checked on that while you and Jayne were working on the computers. I’m embarrassed to say that, other than signing the document to continue the payment for her care, I haven’t thought about them since, oh, probably the summer Everly stayed with us.”
“Hold up.” Everly clapped her hands. “Could that be how Stephen got access to your accounts? Could he have traced the numbers on the checks or something?”
Parker scrubbed at the back of his neck, his hand coming away damp with sweat. “The payments were directly deposited into Aunt Mary’s account. Hot in here, isn’t it?”
Had his words slurred? Get a grip, old man, this isn’t the time to lose it.
Jayne and Reese exchanged a look. “Either of us could easily have traced the accounts and shifted funds,” Jayne said. “Not that we would, of course.”
A warm flush covered her cheeks.
Parker ran his finger over her skin. Soft. Inviting. “L-lovel-ly. B-black.”
His hand fell from her cheek, his arm heavy, but he couldn’t stop the weight from landing on her thigh.
“Parker!” The panic in Jayne’s voice faded into empty silence.
SIXTEEN
Everly Gray
I stared out of the windows in the intensive care waiting room, the first streaks of daylight leaving ominous shadows on the ground. Exhaustion gnawed at my bones as I swallowed the dregs of cold, institutional coffee. Behind me, on the other side of a curtain-covered window, Jayne sat with Parker, using her ten-minutes-every-hour of visitation time. His prognosis wasn’t good.
Detective Stephens was in custody, and I expected a call from Reese Bryant any minute telling me they’d squeezed a confession from him.
The door to the waiting room creaked open, and the squish of sneaker soles sounded against the floor. It was Mitch. A lingering trace of his soap and shampoo wafted around me. Heat from his body warmed me as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me tight against him, kissing the sensitive skin just behind my earlobe. I shivered, drinking in his familiar scent, an oasis of calm that was pure enough to chase away the medicinal hospital odor. “I love you, Mitchell Hunt.”
“Ditto, Sunshine. Did Jayne say if she’s uncovered any more info on the money trail?”
“Yes. She traced a trail from Stephens to Tarik. Near as we could figure, Tarik had been siphoning funds from Steele Management for some time, hacking into their database through his charitable contribution account. Apparently, he was a skilled cyberspace thief, and the FBI had been watching him for a while. The whole different-country issue complicated things.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I suggested Jayne play with tweaking the data. Maybe she can add something to what the FBI has found. And it will keep her busy during the fifty minutes of every hour she can’t be with Parker. It might help ease her stress. Oh, and Reese is holed up at the station trying to get info on the source of the poison Stephens used on Parker.”
“Good plan about Jayne. She find anything yet?”
“Yeah. Last night she traced the Emir’s footsteps through the Steele Management records and found the link where Stephens had tapped into Tarik’s account. He’d been funneling off small amounts, just enough to annoy Tarik, but not enough to spend effort chasing the source of the leak.”
“Huh. Why bother when he already had access to the golden egg?”
“I think, and Jayne agrees, that Stephens was pissed that someone, anyone, would steal from Parker’s accounts. He considered them his personal property, and his ego wouldn’t tolerate that kind of a trespass. So, he rerouted the funds Tarik siphoned into his personal account, and he probably didn’t even consider it stealing because he figured it belonged to him in the first place.”
“Complex. Glad I’m into photography instead of numbers.”
Jayne stumbled into the waiting room, her eyes red, shoulders heaving with harsh sobs. “He’s not going to make it. Without the toxin, they can’t formulate an antidote. The doctor said th-there’s nothing they can do, and his breathing is s-so shallow. I can barely see his chest move.”
Mitch wrapped her in his arms, rocking her gently with a soothing, lullaby motion. He was a good brother, experienced in handling Jayne, and he definitely didn’t need me right now. I gathered my handbag and headed for the door.
“I’m gonna find that antidote.”
Mitch’s gaze shot to mine. “Let’s go.”
“No. You need to stay with Jayne, and I can handle this on my own. There’s no danger, Mitch.”
You shouldn’t lie to him, Everly. Karma is a bitch.
He glanced at Jayne. “Right. Be careful, Sunshine.”
“There have to be traces of the toxin on the picture Parker handled. And on the vial I shoved off the table during the adopt-a-thon. I will touch whatever is necessary to find it. Preferably Stephens.”
Jayne gave me a wat
ery smile.
Much as the idea of touching Stephens made me want to hurl, he was the strongest connection we had to the toxin. He’d created it after all. Or had he?
I drove through Starbucks for a vanilla latte, heavy on the cinnamon sprinkle. I needed to be awake with my sugar level on high, because no way would I have the female version of cojones to pull this off without something fueling my nerves.
Considering my destination was the cell where they were holding Stephens, I’d never get past the officer manning the front desk. I parked near the door Reese Bryant and I used when we went for coffee, and offered pleas to every god and goddess who would listen that the door be unlocked—because, breaking and entering the police station, seriously not a good idea. Sneaking in, I had at least a chance to talk myself out of being arrested.
I considered confronting Chief Hayes to see if he’d agree with my plan, but immediately discarded the idea. He’d never risk a conviction on this guy—bad cops didn’t sit well with him—by not adhering to every rule in the book. And I didn’t blame him. But what he didn’t know….
My knees wobbled in time with my hammering heart as I crossed the parking lot. I curled my hand around the doorknob, being careful not to touch it with my fingertips. It was bad enough I’d have to use them to look at Stephens, no way did I want to bump into anything else that was connected to mishap and mayhem.
The knob stuck. I shoved. Locked. I moved to Plan B, digging my lock picks from my handbag. I’d been taught by the best and knew I’d be able to get inside, but it would be difficult to explain if someone happened to catch me.
I kneeled to be at eye-level with the keyhole, the cement stoop scratching my skin. Why did I have a skirt on when my usual attire consisted of jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops? Oh, right, something about meeting with Detective Bryant. And how many millions of hours ago was that? Fatigue stole some of the precision from my fine motor skills and I fumbled my first attempt to break in.
I sucked in a breath, touched my fingers to the lock, and allowed it to tell me where the picks needed to be placed. Snick. One tumbler slipped into place. Another breath, and…a car engine revved behind me. I jumped, dropped the lock picks, and flattened myself against the door. My palms were slippery with sweat, and I pressed tightly against the rough surface to stop the shakes spreading through my body.
The car sped down the frontage road that paralleled the police station, and disappeared in a cloud of exhaust. Definitely not a member of law enforcement. I rescued my lock picks and started again.
Focus, Everly. Parker’s life is on the line here.
The lock clicked open on my second try, and a wave of relief left me weak and trembling. I slipped inside and closed the door tightly behind me.
And came face-to-face with Chief Hayes. “Ms. Gray. How are you this evening?”
Every muscle in my body went liquid. I braced myself against the wall, the cool surface seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt. I shivered.
The chief noticed. “Chilly? Or is it that you’re where you shouldn’t be?”
I was not going to cave under his penetrating gaze. I pushed away from the wall and met his glare with one of my own. “Parker Steele is dying. There are no rules attached to saving his life, not in my book. This is one time when my ESP is a blessing, and I intend to use it.”
“And exactly how do you plan to do that, Everly? Internal Affairs has taken this out of my hands, and Stephens is being transferred to Raleigh.”
The pit of my stomach bottomed out, and panic knotted my muscles. “When? I need to touch him. To see if I can find a sample of the toxin. It’s Parker’s life, Chief. There’s no comparison between that and prosecuting Stephens.”
I could practically feel the fine hairs on the back of the chief’s neck bristle.
“Look, Chief, I want him to stand trial and be punished to the full extent of the law, too, but that comes after Parker is out of intensive care and home with Jayne. There are priorities here.”
Chief Hayes lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, held them there for a full minute before he huffed out a sigh. “You have one chance. Stephens is being escorted from the holding cell area and will be coming through that hallway—” he pointed to my right— “in a few minutes. If you time it right, you might get close enough to touch him, but it will be difficult. There are four officers escorting him instead of the usual two. There were several special requests for this duty, so I allowed it. They’ll have pepper spray and might use it if they think you’re lynching their prisoner.”
“Lynching?”
“That’s what we call an attempt to take a prisoner from a police officer. I can’t back you on this, Everly. Not if we’re ever going to get a conviction on him. He’s a dirty cop. I’m not letting that go.”
I leaned forward and kissed Chief Hayes on the cheek. It was spontaneous, out of place, unprofessional, and a totally stupid thing to do. One of those things you can never take back, and it probably meant the end of my pseudo-career as a consultant for the Apex PD. Good thing I had my personal coaching business to fill in the gaps. I fled down the hall, clinging to the shadows.
Heavy footsteps greeted me as I turned the corner. Four uniformed officers surrounded Stephens, and they were moving quickly.
They hadn’t spotted me, but Stephens did.
He froze.
Yes! It created a diversion, just enough for me to slip between the cops and grab onto Stephens’s arm with both hands. I held on, my fingers digging into his coat.
There was yelling.
One of the officers aimed a canister of pepper spray at me, and I ducked.
Arms circled me, yanking me away from Stephens. I held tight.
A loud throat clearing stopped everyone, saved me being blasted in the face with pepper spray. Thank you, Chief Hayes. I ignored the chaos around me, allowing the words to blend into white noise that I ruthlessly shoved to the back of my mind.
I focused on the images pouring from Stephens, didn’t bother to sort them, just soaked them into my virtual storage cabinet.
The officer holding me let go, then tried to pry my fingers loose from Stephens’s arm.
“Ahem.” The chief had a way of demanding attention with a single sound.
Stephens blanched.
The cops turned in a single, choreographed movement to face their chief.
I sucked up the images as fast as I could.
“Step away from the prisoner, Ms. Gray.” Hayes’s words were stone cold.
It wasn’t a command I could ignore, not when he’d bought me time to use my fingers.
I backed off, scrubbing my hands down my thighs.
The cops moved Stephens into a waiting van, the chief climbing in after them. He pulled the doors closed, his wink the last thing I saw before the van pulled away.
EPILOGUE
Jayne Hunt
The hospital room smelled of hope and gratitude, a long way from the overpowering scent of disinfectant and despair that had permeated the air just before the doctors delivered the antidote. When Parker had been so close to dying.
Jayne followed his gaze as he took in the friends surrounding him, his eyes almost disappearing into deep pockets of fatigue. Her heart quivered with the reminder of how close she’d come to losing him, but his smile held a blatant swagger that left no doubt he had his mojo back. Jayne was squeezed in next to him on the hospital bed and wasn’t leaving. She couldn’t stop touching Parker. Simply. Couldn’t. Stop.
Everly’s foot was tapping, and she she’d given Jayne and Parker a couple of barely suppressed eye rolls. “So, enough with the cuddling, Jayne. What happened after I told Detective Bryant that Stephens buried the toxin in that huge planter in the Steele Management lobby?”
Jayne blew out an impatient huff, then levered up to lean against the pillows. The sooner everyone had the details sorted, the sooner she could be alone with Parker.
“She rushed it to the police labs, then stopped here to check on Par
ker and let me know they were working on it. I’m not sure how the police and hospital labs worked it out, but they decided to try a mixture of drugs to treat Parker. The toxin had been made from several different types of plant extracts and a few things they couldn’t identify. They prepared an antidote for the things they recognized and hoped for the best. Good thing I didn’t know that part until after the fact.”
Mitch straightened in his chair. “What the hell? You’re saying they created a best-guess-antidote and administered it without testing it? Is that even legal?”
Jayne ruthlessly suppressed the tears burning behind her eyes. “Parker was dying, Mitchell. I think it was a fi-final attempt to save him.”
Parker turned Jayne’s hand into his, kissed the soft skin on the underside of her wrist. “I’m very much alive, Kitten. So, Everly, now that I’m coherent, I’d like to hear what the hell was going on with Joe.”
Everly kicked out of her flip-flops and crossed her legs on the chair, yoga style. “I picked up a lot of images from Stephens when I, well, you know…”
Mitch’s hand came down on her shoulder with a quiet thud. “I’m over it, Sunshine. Just makes me crazy when you do things without backup. Or maybe it’s more about not telling me before you do them.”
“Lay off, Mitchell. Brother or not, I’m on Everly’s side in this one. She saved Parker’s life, and I’ve got her back. Always will.”
Parker wheezed out a cough. “Siblings. Could you hold off until I get the story from El?”
Everly took a swallow from her bottle of Diet Coke, screwed the lid on, and set it aside. “Right. I’ve tried to organize the images, because my fingers didn’t pick them up in chronological order. Stephens’s mind is a mess. Anyway, it all started when you were kids. He was terribly jealous of you, Parker. Your family had everything and his mother had nothing. Especially after both his father and stepfather died, leaving them practically destitute. The summer I stayed with your family was the turning point, because your Aunt Mary had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s.”
To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella) Page 9