a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure)

by Charles, L. j.

  “Stop yelling, Annie, and listen. From the sound of things I can guarantee they aren’t paying any attention to me. I’m as safe as anyone could be while engaged in illegal entry of an occupied residence.”

  “Get out of the house. Now.” Her voice held that scary razor edge she’d perfected in her sniper days.

  Might be best to change the subject. “Where’s Adam?”

  “Jurisdictional problems. The county authorities refused to tail North since he isn’t breaking the law.”

  “What the hell, not breaking any laws? I was practically blown up last week.”

  “Um-hmm, practically is the operative word here. North and Marcy driving out to Chatham county isn’t a crime. No weapons, no B and E that we know of—except for you of course.”

  “Ah. Well I get that. Nothing is amiss unless you consider adultery a felony. Gotta go. It got quiet up there.”

  I pressed End and shoved the phone in my pocket. No matter what the authorities thought, something was definitely amiss with this scenario. I stood in a small alcove off a beautiful kitchen that looked like it should grace the pages of Architectural Digest. Everything was state of the art and eerily perfect. Of course it could just be the situation that was eerie. I was pretty spooked standing in who knows whose kitchen while North and Marcy were happily occupied upstairs. Not so spooked I could ignore the demands of my curiosity, but definitely twitchy.

  I slid the edge of my shirt over my fingertips and wiped everything down that I’d come in contact with. A definite sign I was getting better at covert missions. Yay, me. I stuck my head out the back door, didn’t see anything suspicious, so slithered through. Earlier experience taught me that sound carried just fine from that upstairs window, and I’d stumbled on the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop.

  North’s voice floated down. “I knew he had a problem at the tables, knew he was in trouble, but the extent of the damage—”

  “Personally, he gave me the creeps.” Marcy’s words were crisp with annoyance.

  “Cal was good to me. Took me under his wing, helped me get started. TNTs stand behind each other. The gambling—”

  “Good to you? Honestly, Justin, I don’t know how you can defend that man. I’m glad he’s dead. Glad he won’t be calling all the time, demanding to talk to you. He was crazy.”

  “Not crazy. Sick. It’s like being an alcoholic. Cal pissed off the wrong people.”

  “You think they killed him? The people he owed money to?” Her voice rose to an irritating screech.

  “No. We’d managed to collect enough insurance money to cover most of the debt. Doesn’t make sense to kill a viable source of income. And Cal wasn’t going to stop gambling. He was a cash cow for them. Now that he’s gone, I think I’m beginning to realize that.”

  It was silent for a minute, and so still I could hear the sheets rustle. “Did you kill him?” Marcy paused, her tone hesitant. “When you realized he’d gone bad, was in too deep—”

  “No! My God, no. Cal was like a father to me. I couldn’t kill him. Needed to find a way to make him go away, but not kill him. I was forcing him out of the business. Isn’t that bad enough? Damn, Marcy.”

  “Well, someone killed him.” Sugary words and Marcy. A disgusting combination that made my skin itch.

  “I don’t know who.” North’s voice shook.

  “Well, honey, you better find out. They could be after you too, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Muffled sounds drifted down. Kissing? Yep. Time for me to disappear and get this info to Adam. Surely he had forensic accountants going over Jacobson’s accounts.

  I’d made it to the front of the house when an engine revved and tires crunched on the pine needles covering the driveway.

  Adrenaline shot through me, and I ducked behind the nearest shrub. My hands shook as I separated the thin branches and peeked out.

  The sound of classical jazz cut through the air as the twin to North’s Mercedes skidded to a stop. A tall, blond woman slammed out of the car and stalked toward the front door. Anger seeped through every step, but her face remained Botox perfect.

  She yanked on the doorknob without success, then used every ounce of her considerable pent-up energy to alternately ring the bell and pound on the door.

  “Hang on, Reese.” North. Was that panic chasing through his words?

  Movement off to my right. I twisted to get a glimpse of Marcy sneaking out the side door.

  Not good.

  Time to get my Via Spigas on the move—preferably before Marcy decided that my shrub looked like an ideal hiding place.

  I slunk to my car and was on the road before you could say illicit sex. I yanked my phone out and hit redial for Annie as soon as I was away from the scene of the adultery.

  “Guess who showed up?” I asked before she had a chance to start yelling at me again.

  “Knowing you, the ghost of Calvin Jacobson.”

  “Okay, I get that you’re pissed, but you wouldn’t have let this opportunity escape your curiosity either.”

  “I didn’t just get out of the hospital.”

  “I’ve been out of the hospital for days, and other than a slight case of malfunctioning fingertips, I’m perfectly healthy.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay. So spill. Who showed up?”

  “Mrs. North.”

  “And you didn’t hang around for the fireworks?” Annie barely hid her chuckle.

  “No. Wanted to, but Marcy was eyeing the shrub I hid behind. Seemed like a good idea to sublet it before I had to explain my presence. Fortunately there was enough vegetation that I made it to my car undetected.”

  “Uh-huh. How do you know it was Mrs. North?’

  “The matching Mercedes was a big clue…and her attitude. There’s nothing quite like the vibration of a woman scorned.”

  “I won’t argue that one.”

  “Oops. Looks like traffic’s picking up, and I need to focus on driving. New car and all you know.”

  “Right. See you in a few.”

  I checked the phone messages first thing when I got back to my townhouse. Katelan Finn was frustrated with her new assignment because she was still focused on ‘knowing’ what was in the packages rather than on listening to her inner wisdom. I could relate. The envelopes I was working with were stacked in a neat pile on the kitchen counter—ready and waiting for me to spend some quality time with them.

  The other message was from a potential new client, Terri McGraw, who wanted to do some relationship work. Apparently her husband was having an affair and she needed some coaching. I’d have to think about taking that one on, especially after the scene I’d just witnessed.

  There was no message from Mitch.

  Not that I expected one.

  But still.

  I poured a glass of wine, tucked my iPad under my arm and curled up in my favorite deck chair. A second later Annie joined me. Gave me the once-over. “You look damn calm for someone who just engaged in breaking and entering—”

  “No breaking. Just entering. Help yourself to a glass of wine,” I nodded toward the kitchen table where I’d left the bottle of Rock Rabbit Shiraz.

  “Adam should be here in a minute. As punishment for tailing North without back up, you should tell him about the adventure face-to-face.”

  I shot her a look. “What? I did exactly what you would have done in similar circumstances…except maybe I shouldn’t have actually gone into the house. But it was so worth it. Look at all the information I’ve collected. Not to mention how much fun I had.”

  Annie downed a gulp of wine and shook her head at me. “The world has not been the same since you started finding dead bodies and got hit in the head. Must be brain damage.”

  I did a perfect imitation of Adam’s harrumph. “You know you would have done exactly what I did. Except probably with more finesse. Besides, I called. Twice. I kept you in the loop, aware of what I was doing and where I was.” I grinned up at her.

  Footsteps thudded on the stairs, and
Adam tapped me, hard, on the shoulder. “That was before we realized you’d figure a work around for every instruction. I damn well can’t let you out of my sight before you do something stupid.”

  “Stupid?”

  He took Annie’s glass of wine and drained it. “I’m a little pissed at the moment. So what have you got for me?”

  I filled him in on the particulars while I did a quick computer search on the address of The House. It took a minute but I finally located the owner on the website for Chatham County Property Tax. Adam watched my fingers fly over the keys with a raised eyebrow, probably wondering what I was up to.

  I turned the computer toward him and pointed at the name.

  Danielle Chambers.

  FOURTEEN

  Annie moved behind Adam and leaned on his shoulder to get a look at the computer screen. “Who’s Danielle Chambers?”

  Adam slowly shook his head. “Danielle is the lead engineer on the design team that’s been collaborating with North—and Jacobson until his murder.”

  I tugged on Adam’s sleeve. “North and Chambers aren’t friends. At least that’s the impression I got when my sense of touch was working.” I shook my head, sure I was right. “Remember at the last site we visited? She was furious with him, so why would she loan him her home for a spot of afternoon delight? Doesn’t make sense.”

  Annie stepped away from Adam, refilled her glass, and took a sip of wine. “Maybe it isn’t North. Maybe it’s Marcy who’s Danielle’s friend.”

  “Huh,” Adam grunted as he levered himself out of the chair. “We’ve interviewed Chambers several times in relation to the construction site demolition. Always at the site or at her apartment here in town.”

  “She didn’t mention the Chatham County house?” I asked.

  He pulled out his cell and started punching in numbers. “No reason she would and I didn’t ask. Damn I hate when I miss something like this.” He walked away to complete his call in privacy.

  “So.” I looked at Annie, sipped my wine. “You think there’s a connection between Marcy and Danielle?”

  “Yeah.” She ran her hand along the back of her neck.

  When Adam returned, his forehead was wrinkled and his gaze zeroed in on me. “Do we need to hold off on visiting more sites, or do you want to test your—?” He wiggled his fingers.

  I couldn’t stop my smile. “I’m not sure how it will go, or how much help I’ll be, but I’d like to try as soon as it works for you.”

  “Good. I think your abilities will come back faster if you’re in the field.” His tone was brusque, brotherly. I could get used to having a borrowed sibling—even if he did get on my last nerve with the over-protective thing.

  The best part: Adam still thought I was a worthwhile partner. Warm fuzzies played around my heart, and I grabbed my iPad with a new sense of confidence. I’d replaced my exploded one, but had only downloaded a few applications. Didn’t matter ’cause all I needed was my fave doodle app. While Annie and Adam hashed over possible relationships between North, Marcy, and Danielle, I made some notes and then added my take verbally.

  “We need the answers to several questions.” I tapped my finger on the screen and drew a few lines connecting information on my diagram.

  Adam angled his chin toward me. “And those would be?”

  “How much money did Jacobson owe? To whom? And why was North forcing him out of business?”

  Adam nodded. “I’ll check with the forensic auditor and vice. Gotta go. Stay home and out of trouble, huh? And aren’t you supposed to be under Pierce’s care?”

  “He thinks I’m fine.” I grinned.

  Adam stood and gave my ponytail a tug. “Like the new car. I’ll get back to you on a time for us to hit the next construction site.”

  Annie gave me a squinty look. “So, Pierce thinks you’re fine?” Her fingers hovered over the keypad on her cell.

  I tapped her hand. “Okay, you caught me. “I’ll call him, fill him in on my health—” her finger was still poised, ready to push the speed dial button— “and what I’ve been up to. Does that satisfy you?”

  “Yep.”

  Adam made a big deal out of clearing his throat.

  They left together, teasing each other with playful punches and verbal jabs. Sounded like he was asking questions about her relationship with Sean. Family. It all came down to family.

  I tucked my iPad under my arm and went inside, my mind wandering to the envelopes. It was time for me to go to work, too. Since my fingers worked on North’s car, I knew I had to relax. And not just about working with the Apex PD. I had to decide what, if anything, I needed to do about Mitch.

  The phone beeped just as I sat down with the envelopes. A shiver tripped down my spine when I checked Caller ID. Mitch. I curled into the corner of the sofa and pulled a blanket over my legs before I answered. Stalling? You betcha.

  “Hello, Sunshine.” His voice sounded weary. Tired and…lost.

  “Hi. Are you your way home?”

  “Just landed at Bragg. I’m heading out of the parking lot.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Glad it’s over. Not much I can say. How about you?”

  “Well, remember that list of addresses we got from North—the list Marcy handed to me?”

  “Did you check ’em out? Find us a dream home?” I could almost hear his smile.

  “Not exactly. My car got blown up at one of the addresses.”

  The silence went on, and on. Worse because I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see how he was taking the news.

  “Obviously you weren’t in it.” His words were stiff. Worry? Or something else?

  “Nope. Just got a new car today, a Toyota Prius, dark grey.”

  “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “I had some minor injuries, a slight concussion. It was no biggie. Except—”

  “Except what, El?”

  “I seem to have lost my ability to see things through touch.” There. I’d gotten it out. Told him the worst.

  “You mean if you touch me—”

  “Nary an image to be seen.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” I was left holding a disconnected phone.

  I decided to use the twenty minutes to my best advantage, especially after I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. Something had to be done about the hair. I looked like I’d been caught in a wind tunnel, and the only way to fix it required shampoo and conditioner.

  By the time I slipped lathered lotion on my freshly scrubbed body and slipped into a pair of silky pants and cami, Mitch stood outside my kitchen door.

  My heart stuttered. And then melted. Lines bracketed his mouth, his hair was tousled, and he looked ridiculously adorable. He pulled me into a deep hug, “I’m sorry about your sense of touch. I’m gonna guess it’s similar to me being color blind, or not being able to feel a picture before I take it.” He uncurled his arms and stepped back, his eyes dark and searching. “How are you?”

  A tingle started in my toes and made its way up to a smile. “Okay. Not great yet, but I’ve felt some tingling in my fingertips and got an image, once, of Justin North from the headrest in his Mercedes.”

  I felt the energy drain out of Mitch.

  Always with the spewing of words before I thought about them. You’d think I’d have better control by now. “Come, sit, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  I led the way to the sofa, and hugged a pillow onto my lap.

  Before I could say a word Mitch grinned, deep enough to show off the dimple in his right cheek.

  “You look like a bowl of rich, vanilla ice cream in that…piece of fabric that shows off every curve. I’m in the mood for vanilla ice cream.”

  I reached out with my toes and curled them against his thigh. “Probably we should talk first.”

  He pulled off his wire rims and tossed them on the end table. “Right. Talk.”

  “The way you left—”

  “I know. I thought about
it the whole time I was away. Decided not to take any more political assignments, well, only those with a low security clearance. The intrigue is absurd, and not touching you isn’t an option anymore.”

  A wave of doubt passed through me, and I curled my toes against his thigh again, seeking reassurance of some kind.

  He cradled my foot and massaged. “Oh, my. That’s…”

  He stopped rubbing.

  “The touch thing—it’s a part of me that I don’t want to lose. I know that now, now that it’s on the fritz. Temporarily on the fritz,” I corrected myself.

  He bent down, unlaced his sneakers and toed them off. “I know. I don’t want to change you, and I don’t want to talk to anyone about a security clearance for you. That’s why I decided to limit my choice of assignments.”

  I pushed the pillow to the floor, uncurled my legs and sat up, rested my hand on his thigh. My fingertips tingled. Because I could hardly wait to get my hands all over his luscious body? Or because images were trying to form?

  “Is that okay? Can you pick and choose assignments without repercussions?”

  He pulled me into the curve of his arm. “No. There’ll be repercussions. Quite honestly, I don’t know what to expect.”

  I rested my head on his chest, the lub-dub of his heart steady and strong against my cheek. “I don’t think I’m okay with your decision. I don’t want to come between you and—” I blew out a sigh— “your work. What you do is important, critical to…I don’t know, the well-being of the country.”

  “I’m not the only photographer cleared for security work.”

  “But you’re the best.”

  Laughter shook his chest, and I turned to see his face but was sidetracked by his lips finding mine, testing them. Oh, yes, this man was important in my life. No doubt about it. Too important for me to sabotage his career. I squashed all thought and dropped into the kiss. Later. I could think later. After I’d explored all the nuances of sex without images.

  When I opened my eyes the living room was dark, except for the wash of streetlights coming through the window. I was comfortably pressed full-length along Mitch, skin to skin. Nice way to wake up. The room shimmered with the scent of sex and unresolved issues. But I wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet.