by Debra Webb
Before she could say as much, he spoke. “There’s a little more to it than that.”
A new rush of apprehension worked its way under her skin. “What’s a little more?”
“Since Crane and Chambers are dead, that leaves me with no way to determine who’s running this rogue operation they were involved in. It’s my job to secure the technology and to shut down the operation, including all the players. Crane led me here but that’s not enough.”
If he’d come here to shut down the operation...
“You wanted this Avery Chambers guy to come after me.” The epiphany hit her so suddenly and with such impact that she lost her breath.
He didn’t deny the charge.
“You’ve been using me?” she demanded. That was the only conclusion that made sense. He’d been watching her, following her, but he’d never officially hauled her in for questioning or interacted with the local authorities.
“Bait.” She said the word at the same time that the full ramifications penetrated her brain, allowing her to answer her own question. “I’m the only bait you have left. Hitch is dead and O’Neil dumped that damned thing right back in my lap.”
Murphy stared at her with an intensity that warned the choice was no longer up to her. “That’s very astute of you, Miss Jackson. All I need is the device and your brief cooperation and we’ll finish this unpleasant business.”
Alex was tough. She was smart. Damn smart. And no one, absolutely no one, intimidated her. Except this guy. She had a feeling he wouldn’t stop until he had his way... no matter the cost.
“All right. I’ll cooperate. On two conditions.”
His undivided attention remained on her.
“First, you make sure my mother and my close friends are protected.”
“Security details are already in place,” he assured her.
Alex breathed easier. She didn’t want this to hurt anyone else she cared about. “Number two, you see that the local police have the goods on Hitch’s killer, who I assume is the same one who blew up O’Neill’s house, and I’ll cooperate all you want.”
“You’re admitting that you have the device.”
Alex smiled. “Let’s just say I can guarantee you’ll have it... if we have a deal.”
“You do understand this will mean I’ll be on top of your every move.”
Now there was an image she could have done without, considering her current dilemma where this man was concerned.
“As long as Hitch’s killer gets his, I can do business with the devil himself.”
Murphy stood. “I’ll take custody of the device now.”
She pushed to her feet. “When this is done.”
That fierce blue gaze locked with hers once more. “I’ll only allow you to push me so far, Alex.”
No matter that the coffee table and a good three feet stood between them, her entire body reacted to him.
“Are you saying I’m testing your boundaries, Wyatt?”
“Yes.”
The ability to breathe ceased. “Should I be worried?”
He rounded the coffee table in two strides and cupped her face in his hands. “Very.”
He kissed her. Hard, and then harder still. She fisted her fingers at her sides, not daring to touch him despite the need pulsing inside her.
He abruptly stepped back, snatched up his weapons, and then walked out.
Chapter 18
Friday, July 25
The next morning Alex, followed by her shadow, waltzed into her office to find her entire crew waiting for her arrival.
“I’m glad you’re all here,” she announced, avoiding eye contact with Shannon. “I’d like to introduce you to Wyatt Murphy. He’s the newest edition to our crew.” She cleared her throat. “Professor, if you’d show Wyatt around, I have some paperwork to get to.”
Marg, the Professor, and Hernandez simply stared at her. Usually they made decisions as a team. They were all, except Shannon, stunned by her announcement. There was no help for it. Murphy had informed her first thing this morning that he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. This was his plan for ensuring he was able to stay on top of her.
“Alex, we’d like to speak to you. Privately,” Shannon added with a nod toward Murphy.
Alex took a breath. “Sure.” She turned to Murphy. “Why don’t you grab that new odor neutralizer I ordered?” She tossed him the keys to her SUV.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Even those two words made her shiver. Jesus, she was still reeling from that kiss last night. She hadn’t slept. Now her crew was looking at her as if she’d just announced there would be no bonus at Christmas this year.
She propped a smile in place and asked, “What’s up?”
“Does he have any experience?” Hernandez wanted to know, clearly miffed about the new guy.
Shannon shot him a look. “Alex was right to snag this guy. Personally, I’m tired of working late and on Saturdays most weeks.”
Hernandez adopted a properly humbled expression. Alex appreciated Shannon covering for her. She would explain as much as she could later.
“What we actually wanted to say,” the Professor announced, “is that we’ve taken a vote.”
Alex tossed her bag onto the counter and then leaned against it. “What kind of vote?”
“We think you should take a vacation,” Marg spoke up.
“Get out of town. Relax,” Shannon added. She glanced toward the door Murphy had existed. “As soon as you can, of course.”
Alex immediately saw the quickest way out of this. “I think that’s a great idea.” She grabbed her bag. “I’ll be in my office. Planning my vacation.”
She left her nosy-if-well-meaning crew to ponder that one. Today’s schedule was a busy one. She doubted there would be time for arguments or more questions.
Alex had enjoyed the seclusion of her office for all of five minutes when a soft rap invaded the silence. She squeezed her eyes shut and dug deep for patience. It wouldn’t be Murphy. He would never knock that softly. Geez, the ride here this morning had been torture. Her mind kept replaying that hot, frantic kiss. His scent had her so hot and bothered by the time they reached the office she almost had an orgasm getting out of the damned SUV.
How pathetic was that. She didn’t even want to consider how long it had been since she’d had a date, much less sex. Life had gotten in the way.
The door opened and Marg poked her head inside, “Alex, I need to talk to you.”
Alex cleared her head and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Sure.” Her mother was having one of her depressed days. Alex could always tell. Her attire was dark, like her mood. The blouse was particularly conservative, with no cleavage whatsoever showing. “What’s wrong?”
“I feel so old.”
Alex made a dismissive sound. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are not old.”
“Can’t help how I feel.”
Alex opened her mouth to suggest her mother join another gym. Instead, for the first time in a long time, she held her tongue and looked closely at her mother. She was a beautiful woman. The tiniest lines had started to crease the corners of her eyes. Worry lines no doubt. Alex had been there all those years when Marg and Dex Jackson had fought like cats and dogs. The marriage had been doomed from the beginning. Though her mother would never admit as much, she’d only married Dex because she’d been fifteen and pregnant.
“You really do need a vacation, Alex.”
Alex made a face. “I thought we were talking about you.”
“I feel old because I’m worried about you.”
“What?” Alex rolled her eyes. Was there anything her mother couldn’t blame on someone else?
Marg stared meaningfully at Alex for a moment. ”I’m so afraid that the mistakes your father and I made are keeping you from living your life to the fullest.”
This entire conversation was simply ludicrous. “What’re you talking about? My life is fine.”
“Alex.” Her mot
her reached across her desk placed a hand on hers. “You can’t run away from love forever.”
Alex bit back the nasty retort that came to mind. Marg was vulnerable right now. She’d just taken a big step by joining AA. This was the way it was with them. Her mother needed her, Alex jumped in and helped. It had been that way for as far back as she could remember.
“Mother, I’m fine. Really. I’m perfectly happy with my life just as it is.”
“I’m certain it’s my fault you haven’t let anyone close,” Marg continued as if Alex had said nothing. “You’ve been too busy taking care of me and cleaning up the messes I’ve made.”
Alex shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Honestly,” her mother insisted, “I’m terrified that you don’t understand that it’s okay to make a mistake. It’s okay to fail every so often. Life isn’t supposed to be perfect. Living life is about taking risks, about allowing yourself to be vulnerable at times.” She squeezed Alex’s hand. “You need to let someone in. Otherwise you’ll never know just how magical that kind of relationship is.”
Somehow Alex couldn’t bring herself to launch the stock argument she typically used. This whole week had shaken her.
“I’ve been paying attention,” Marg went on. “Hitch’s death has taken a toll on you. That’s very telling, Alex. Pay attention to what your heart is saying.”
Sweet Jesus. How on earth was she supposed to take relationship advice from her mother?
As if she’d said as much aloud, Marg leaned back into her chair. “I haven’t been a very good example. Your father didn’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I couldn’t be the kind of wife he wanted or the sort of mother you needed. I know it was hard on you, Alex.” She heaved a heavy breath. “But we did love each other, we just weren’t good for each other. The jealousy and the alcohol made us do crazy things.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Alex said gently.
Marg held up her hands in surrender. “I know you’re going to do whatever you decide is right for you, just remember what I said, okay?”
Alex smiled. “Okay.”
Marg pushed to her feet. “I’ll let you get to work then.” She smiled. “I like your new friend. He’s very good looking and such a gentleman.”
Alex frowned. “Murphy?”
Marg nodded. “He’s a keeper.”
“He’s not that kind of friend,” Alex assured her. Even as she said the words that kiss cycled through her head again.
Her mother made it to the door before saying more. “I’m very proud of you for being so independent and capable, Alex. You’re an amazing woman and an incredible daughter.”
“Thank you.” Wow. Marg must really be worried about her.
“Just remember, no matter how independent you are there comes a time when everyone needs someone.”
With that profound statement, Marg went on her way.
Alex shook her head and reached for a pile of invoices. How could her mother instinctively know she had been dealing with those same feelings lately? Worse, why was it Wyatt Murphy’s handsome mug and that damned kiss wouldn’t stay out of her head?
Work. She needed to work.
By late afternoon, Alex had finished all the reports and signed off on every single invoice. She’d even taken the time to organize the clutter in her office. It wouldn’t be winning any beautification award, but at least she could walk through her office without stepping on something or tripping. Shannon had popped in a couple of times to shower her with praise. Alex suspected that was about keeping her motivated. Marg had brought her a salad at lunch.
Murphy hadn’t popped in even once. Maybe he had decided to steer clear after letting his control slip last night. Hernandez and the Professor had gone out on an apartment cleanup involving a drug deal gone bad over in Little Havana.
A light knock sounded on the door before Shannon breezed in. She passed Alex a message. “Tenant was a hoarder. The landlord needs the place cleaned up ASAP. I thought maybe you and Murphy could handle this one.”
Alex glared at her. “He’s not really working here,” she growled under her breath. No way did Alex want to spend the next few hours holed up at a job site with him.
“He’s keeping an eye on you,” Shannon muttered. “I get that, but either you get him out of here or I’m going home. He’s been sitting out there all day and I cannot take it a minute longer.”
Alex got it now. She grinned. “He smells good, doesn’t he?”
Shannon closed her eyes. “Incredible.”
Alex stood. “Okay. We’re out of here.”
Per her instructions, Murphy parked in the driveway of the house where Walter Brenner had lived. According to the landlord, he had been one of those people who saved everything. The landlord wanted the place emptied and readied for a new tenant coming in the first of the month. Brenner had no next of kin. His attending physician had authorized the funeral home to come pick him up. Since the man had suffered with high blood pressure and heart problems, not to mention he was eighty-nine, the law allowed an attending physician to sign-off on his death, forgoing the need for an M.E. or an autopsy.
Donning shoe covers and gloves, Alex took the key she’d picked up from the landlord and opened the door.
“I’ll go first.” Wearing shoe covers and gloves as well, Murphy moved ahead of her.
Suited her just fine. Three feet inside the door and the less than pleasant odor of molding pizza greeted her. Could have been a lot worse. She shivered as she closed the door behind her. The temp of the air-conditioning had to be set at sixty. It was like a fridge in here.
The living room was piled high with magazines, newspapers, and dozens upon dozens of pizza boxes. Her nose twitched. That would explain the smell of moldy cheese. In one corner of the room stood a tower of aluminum cans. She would see that all recyclables were taken to a center.
Actually, she realized as she surveyed the furniture and what she could see of the floor, the place was pretty clean, the mounds of accumulated stuff notwithstanding.
“You run into situations like this often?”
“More often than you’d think.” She slid a sidelong glance at her shadow. That was more than he’d said all day. “Do you run into cases like this often?”
A smile teased one corner of his mouth. “They’re always different.”
She was glad he’d stepped away from the brooding persona. She liked this side of him much better.
“Different keeps things interesting, I guess.”
He grunted. Deciding that was the only answer she was going to get, Alex moved down the hall to check out the bathroom and bedrooms. The same scenario. Mountains of clothes, detergent boxes, and bottles. Tons of stuff.
She saved what would likely be the worst for last. The kitchen.
Taking the short hall back to the living room, she wove through the dining room and its boxes upon boxes of cheap china and on into the kitchen.
She froze.
“I take it that’s not supposed to happen,” Murphy suggested. He stood so close behind her the sound of his voice made her shiver.
Walter Brenner still sat at the kitchen table, slumped over a nearly empty bowl of what had at one time likely been cereal.
Poor bastard.
“Definitely not supposed to happen.” She dug her phone from her pocket and called the landlord. “Hey, the body’s still in the house. I can’t touch this place until he’s out of here.”
The landlord had assured her that the funeral home had been here and gone already. She listened impatiently as he now explained there had been a mix up and the funeral home was on the way. Alex shoved her phone back into her pocket and let go a breath of frustration.
“What now?”
She glanced at Murphy. “Now, we wait.”
Alex decided to focus on the vic rather than try and make conversation with her shadow. Mr. Brenner dressed well, khaki slacks and a navy polo. His hair had gone gray and thin, leaving h
is pate bare. He was a little pudgy around the middle. His skin was wrinkled from too many years in the Miami sun, though he looked a little pale just now since the blood had settled in the lower portion of his body after he’d ceased to breathe.
He’d lived alone. His wife had died years ago. No kids. No close relatives that the landlord knew of. He’d been dead less than twenty-four hours. The UPS guy couldn’t get him to the door to sign for a delivery this morning. The two were on a first name basis since Mr. Brenner ordered so many items from the Home Shopping Network. There was a delivery practically every day.
Alex pulled out a chair and sat down on the opposite end of the table from the poor man. Rigor mortis had settled in his muscles, but the worst of what was to come hadn’t started yet. She wondered again as she studied him, was this how she would end up?
So maybe focusing on the vic wasn’t such a good idea. “Have a seat, Murphy.”
“I’ll stand. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself.”
The man was too uptight. The memory of Hitch’s silly laugh and crooked grin poked into her thoughts. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she would end up all alone if she just kept walking away.
She was allowing them to get to her. All the people, like Mr. Brenner, who’d died alone...
Dying was bad enough. But dying alone, that really sucked.
The question was: could she—did she even want to—do anything about it?
The thought of exploring options with Murphy had her shivering again.
“Are you cold?”
Before she could protest, he’d removed his jacket and draped it around her. His scent, the body heat that had trapped in the fabric, surrounded her.
She closed her eyes and prayed the funeral home would hurry.
Late that evening, well after dark, Alex made it home. Her tail was dragging.
The cleanup at the Brenner location had taken forever. So much stuff. So many trips to the recycling center. If not for Murphy’s help, she would still be there. She owed him. He’d asked to use her shower. How could she say no?
As Alex unlocked her front door, Murphy retrieved what looked like an overnight bag from his fancy car.