"I was merely speculating as to Miss Sage's sleeping in," Stone said. His hangdog expression could not have been more fake.
Trey grinned. So this was what it was like to be married. Stone didn't seem unhappy in his tethered state.
Jo moved into the room to stand by her husband. "Maybe it is none of our business."
"Don't look so smug," Stone said. "I'm sure when you get Mallory alone you'll girl-talk about it."
"We won't go into details."
"Yes, you will. More than we will. We'll just posture that we did well and that'll be the end of it. You'll dissect it. Try to figure out why we did what and how we feel," Stone said.
Jo laughed. "Okay, we will, but I doubt there's time today."
Mallory appeared in the doorway. "That's right. There isn't. So can we get past my love life and concentrate on the case."
"Sorry, Mal. It isn't our business," Jo said. "You want some breakfast first?"
"I would, if you don't mind."
Jo led her out and threw a glare over her shoulder at the two men.
"She's got your number." Trey settled on an office chair.
"Yeah, and I'm pretty happy about that."
"Yeah? Didn't think you'd settle down," Trey said.
"I didn't think so either."
"What changed?" What could make an avowed bachelor hang up his status and get married? Trey couldn't imagine it.
"I met Jo. She challenged me in ways I never thought of. She made me feel things."
"Scary?"
Stone shrugged, leaned back in his chair. "At first, but sometimes fate takes you where it wants."
"And you just go along for the ride," Trey said.
He understood that. A little. Fate had brought Mallory back to him. He needed to make sure she didn't leave again.
Cal fell into bed. Mark, the young probationary member of the fire company, had driven him to his latest doctor's appointment.
Now Cal couldn't move, as if a truck had run him over. He was bone weary. Too tired to cook. Too tired to eat. Too tired.
Would the treatment be worth it? He wasn't so sure. If it would only extend his life a few months, and this would be how he felt half the time, then maybe he needed to rethink chemo.
He glanced over at his answering machine. The light blinked. He debated pushing the button just to hear who it was. Not that he was in any shape to answer anyone's questions. Or solve anyone's problems.
Nope. He was no good to anyone right now. So he pulled the covers up and settled in to sleep.
"Pantyhose in the daytime? How do women do it every day?" Mallory tugged at the sheer navy stockings on her legs.
Trey maneuvered Mallory's truck through downtown Somerdale traffic. "Try a tie."
Paul Stanley agreed to meet them at the foundation's headquarters. The official address was a post office box. The physical address had remained elusive until Stanley told them.
Trey and Mallory wore suits for a business meeting, hoping they'd see something or at least figure out how to break into the place that night.
"So Greg is truly connected to Stanley." Mallory tried to get her mind off her hot legs. The air conditioner was on, but she'd started out too warm and couldn't seem to cool off.
"Not surprising. Stone sent an anonymous tip through secure channels to Homeland Security."
"That might take a while."
"Mm. Hopefully we'll have more information after today."
Trey parked the car on Main Street by an unmarked storefront. Mallory alighted and looked over the place. It stood between a bank and a quickie mart. She knew an alley ran behind it.
"Ready?" Trey asked.
He took her hand.
She smiled. "Yep."
Somewhere during last night's lovemaking, she'd learned to trust Trey again. If he felt she could do this mission, then she probably could.
When they opened the door, they saw workers answering phones as if it were a telethon.
Paul Stanley, dressed in a subdued gray suit, strode across the room toward them. "Welcome."
He shook their hands and then led them through the maze of desks to a conference room. Mallory saw a hallway with a back door. Off that hallway were three doors. She assumed one was the bathroom.
"Can I get you some coffee?"
"Yes, please," Trey said.
"None for me thanks," Mallory said. "But would you please point me in the direction of the restroom?"
A young eager-looking woman appeared at Stanley's side. Mallory wondered if she ever looked that fresh faced.
"Mr. Stanley, you have an urgent phone call."
"I said to take messages."
"The caller won't leave one. He insists on speaking with you."
Stanley frowned. "You'll have to excuse me. I'll have someone get coffee." He turned to the young woman. "Please show Mrs. Vincenzo to the ladies room."
Stanley left and Mallory followed the employee down the hallway to the last door.
"Here you go."
"Thanks."
She opened the door into a single room with a window on the alley. Just what she was looking for. She raised the blinds and saw that the window wasn't painted shut and no wires indicated an alarm. Good. She unlocked the window.
Satisfied they had at least one entry into the office that night, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands in case anyone kept track. Then she left to find Trey.
He was in the conference room sipping his coffee as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Success?"
She nodded. "You?"
"I have an overview."
Paul Stanley entered the conference room. "I apologize for the delay." He held a briefcase. "I'm going to have to reschedule. I have to put out a fire in another office."
"Your foundation has another office?" Mallory asked.
"Not the foundation, but another of my business ventures. I'll walk you out."
Back in the car, Mallory pulled off her pantyhose. "That's better."
Trey loosened his tie. "Let's follow him."
CHAPTER 23
The good thing about tailing in a truck was that you could see over most cars. The bad thing about tailing in a truck was that you could be seen over most cars.
Mallory kept three vehicles between them. "We're screwed if he takes a country road."
"For all we know, Vanessa needed a nooner."
Mallory snorted. "Only a guy would think that was an emergency."
"Hey, if you told me you needed sex now, I'd be there for you."
His warm and sexy voice enveloped her. Just what she didn't need during a chase. "So noble of you, Trey."
"Well, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."
She rolled her eyes. Something she rarely did, except around Trey. He brought out all sorts of behaviors in her, including the wanton variety.
The sports car Paul Stanley drove could outmaneuver them if he knew they were following. He took the ramp to Route 287 north. Then he floored it, leaving Mallory scrambling to merge into traffic and keep her eye on the prize.
"I think he figured out we're here," Trey said.
"Or maybe Vanessa called back and told him she started without him."
Trey leaned back in his seat as if he'd been punched. "Mal. Damn."
"You started it."
A muscle in his jaw pulsed. "You didn't have to continue it."
"At least we know he's going the wrong way for the Sheraton."
"True. All the more reason we need to catch up."
"I can still see that red midlife-crisis-mobile."
Mallory shifted into the center lane with just enough room to fit. No one honked. That was just how people drove in New Jersey.
As soon as another car passed, she signaled and slid into the leftmost lane. She floored it as much as the car in front of her would let her.
"Why do people drive slow in the fast lane?"
Trey shrugged. "He's probably some old guy who got lost and is scared to death. You riding his
bumper won't help."
"Maybe he'll get the hint and get out of the way."
As if on cue, the offending car pulled into the center lane. Mallory had a clear track ahead of her. "He's in the right lane."
"Damn, he's getting off at that exit."
"How well do you know Morristown?" Trey asked.
"It isn't that big, but it has some one-way streets. Lot of rich people live up this way."
The sports car stopped at the light off the ramp. Trey and Mallory were four cars behind. Stanley turned right. Then he made a sharp left into the parking lot of a church. It had a fair just like the fire department in Coleville.
Mallory drove past the church and pulled into a convenience store parking lot.
"You up to walking over there?"
She held up her feet. "I put on my sneakers for just this occasion."
When Trey and Mallory arrived at the fairgrounds, Greg Villa and Paul Stanley stood in the middle of the kiddy rides. Mallory hid behind the Tilt-A-Whirl and Trey used a concession stand as camouflage.
The men's words were just out of hearing range for Mallory. From this distance, the conversation sounded heated.
The midday sun beat down on the two men in suits.
A sign indicated the fair would be closed for a few more hours. At least they'd have no bystanders if they had to confront the two men.
Mallory was thankful she'd removed her stockings. Her gun was in the elastic waistband of her skirt. Lucky for her, Jo had the foresight to buy clothes that could hide a gun.
Trey had removed his jacket and tie, though she could see sweat dripping off his brow. No wonder everyone in New Jersey went to the shore.
Mallory saw that a big dinosaur ride was closer to the two men. If she could slip into the dinosaur facing away from them, she might be able to hear.
She couldn't whisper and Trey was not good at reading lips, so she just went for it. She crawled, using the base of the Tilt-A-Whirl as cover. Silently promising Jo that she would have the suit cleaned or buy her a new one, she inched her way closer to the two mobsters.
Their voices carried on the still air, though not their words. Then they got louder.
"What do you mean, take them out? My job was to get them out of the way. I'm not killing them," Greg said.
She peeked from her spot and between the ride cars, she could just see Greg, his face crimson.
"You will do what I say. There wasn't any reason for you to have called me away from my business. I had them lulled into feeling secure and I would have had a device planted on their truck. But no, you had to see me as if the world were ending," Stanley said. His voice had remained even.
"You don't get it. I'm not killing them. My career is at least salvageable because no one knows what I've done."
A chuckle danced out of Stanley. "You think I haven't kept records of what you've done for me. For five years, I've owned you."
"You wouldn't. That stuff would indict you too."
"Yes, but I can get lawyers. Slick ones. You, with your law enforcement salary, couldn't afford a decent one. And don't tell me about all the kickbacks I've given you. Besides, you have gambling debts."
Greg's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "Bastard."
"So you'll kill them?"
"No."
"Then you're a liability."
Paul Stanley pulled out a gun.
Mallory debated taking him out. But his death wouldn't stop the plan in motion. And they needed to find out where he'd set bombs. As far as she knew, no more had been found. At least none had made the papers.
Maybe that was a good thing.
She was out of Trey's sight, so she couldn't signal him or see if he could take down Stanley.
Greg sprinted away from Stanley, who laughed. "You can run, but I have spies everywhere. And maybe it'll be poetic justice when you get blown up by the very bombs you make."
Greg made the bombs? Made sense. He'd have access to the latest defusing technology. He'd know how to make them and make it hard for a bomb squad to get rid of them.
Stanley watched Greg go while he tucked away his gun. He shook his head and turned away. "I knew you were weak," he shouted.
Mallory slid back to her original position. They had to stay together. Neither could follow Greg. Damn. He might lead them to more useful information.
Stanley strode in the direction of one of the church's parking lots.
Trey waited for her by a stand that sold cotton candy. "Let's get back to the truck."
Before they could move, an explosion rocked the area, shoving her into him. He grabbed her, his back against the concession stand. Stanley didn't look back, just kept walking.
"Greg," Trey said.
Mallory nodded her breath returning. "We'd better get out of here. Too many questions we can't answer."
"Right."
They slinked back to the truck, thankful no one had been in the church to see them.
Jo and Stone hadn't been home when Trey and Mallory returned.
Mallory would have loved another bath but settled for a shower instead. She stepped in and then heard the bathroom door open. "You've heard of privacy?"
"You've heard of water conservation?"
"How tree hugger of you."
She wet herself down as he slipped out of his clothes. She watched him with the stall door open a crack. He slid into the shower wearing only a smile. "I figured you'd need to work off some adrenaline."
"Always thinking of my needs."
"What can I say? I'm that kind of guy."
He kissed her as if he owned her. As if he owned her soul. Kissing him back was just what she wanted to do.
"This has gotten complicated," she said when he released her lips.
"This is pretty simple. A man. A woman. Sex. What's complicated?"
She laughed. "I'm talking about the case."
"Let's not. Let's leave it behind for a few minutes."
"Jeez, I hope it's more than a few minutes."
He looked at her through half-closed eyes. "I'll see what I can do."
He took the bar of soap from the dish and brought it to a lather. Just like he'd do to her. Her mouth went dry watching those long fingers manipulate the soap.
"Turn around," he said.
She did. He soaped her back. Then the back of her legs.
"Spread your legs."
She did. He washed them, the lather and his hands slick on her body. He hadn't touched any of her most sensitive spots, but they were all on fire. A sense of urgency had her foot tapping.
"Trey."
"What?"
She wanted to jump out of her skin. "You're killing me."
"I can stop."
"Don't."
"Good."
His slippery hands reached between her legs. She didn't explode. She wouldn't have been surprised if she did. His fingers worked magic and she panted as water cascaded down her back.
She braced herself on the tiled wall. "Oh."
Her body searched for his, while he kept his distance. The only contact between them was his fingers and her most sensitive spot.
The urgent throbbing grew like a bubble. Then it burst and she reveled in the wonder of it. She shuddered and leaned against the wall.
Her breath came out ragged. "Your turn."
He shook his head, not hiding his grin. "Our turn."
Reaching around her, he turned off the shower. He offered his hand and led her out of the stall. With the efficiency of someone who did it every day, he dried her off. Then himself.
Again, he offered his hand, only this time he led her out of the bathroom to his room. His was more masculine than hers, with stripes as the theme.
He brought her to the king-sized bed. She took hold of him. His eyes dropped closed. "I want you."
"I can tell."
He chuckled, deep and throaty. "I want to make love to you. I don't want sex."
She didn't retreat even though she was unsure what he
was asking. "What?"
"Lay with me. Heart and soul. Not just your body. I want all of you."
She bit her lip. He'd had that before and he'd been careless. "I'm not sure I trust you enough."
"You trust me with your life."
She mulled that over for a minute. No ready answer came to her.
"I want an answer," he said.
"I'm not sure what the question is."
He frowned. "Stay with me."
She let go and stepped away. "Stay?"
"We're good together."
"We're good together? In bed? Out of bed? What are you saying to me?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she went to look for her clothes in the bathroom. Tugging on her shirt and shorts, she mumbled, "Damn men." She gathered her courage and returned to the bedroom.
"Mallory, listen."
"We've been through this before. I'm not doing it again. You were going to be an affair and now you've made it complicated."
"You just wanted sex?" he asked.
That's all she would allow herself to want. "Something like that. You'd go back to your life and I'd go back to mine."
He leaned against the doorjamb. "Don't women want commitments?"
She did, but not this way. Not if it meant having to change her life again. No, she'd already done that and look where it got her. She'd been in the hospital.
Alone.
Recovering.
"When have I ever been like other women?" she asked.
"Never...but, damn. I'm grasping at straws here, Mal. I want to know what you want."
"Maybe I don't know what I want. You walked back into my life. Plunged me into a life I'd left behind. Made me feel things I don't want to feel."
"What don't you want to feel?"
She spun away from him. "Forget I said it."
"No, I'm not. You brought it up."
She clenched her teeth and hissed out the answer. "I love you, Trey, and I don't want to. You talk about forever, but I don't want that. Not a forever with this life. Not a forever with someone who doesn't even know enough to tell me how he feels."
She stalked out, wanted nothing more than to sleep away the day until they had to break into the Stanley Foundation's offices.
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