Blonde Demolition Page 10

  "We can find her. How long can they hide? Trey will have to contact me at some point."

  "Does he often follow the rules?"

  A snort came to him through the phone.

  "That's what I thought," Booth said.

  It had all fallen to pieces. He knew that he might have to kill Mallory. He'd hoped that the time limit on the contract would be up first. His contract was only for six years. Next year he would have received the full money even without killing Mallory. Someone would have taken his place.

  And he'd be on the beach in the Caribbean.

  He sighed. Alone. Without Mallory.

  His hands shook even though they shouldn't. The doctor had told him there would be no symptoms for at least two more years.

  "What now?"

  "She'll contact you, right?"

  Booth nodded. "Yes, she probably will."

  "Then you'll contact me when that happens."

  A tidal wave of emotions rolled over Mallory leaving her in the undertow. The kiss had been magnificent. She hadn't been so thoroughly kissed since…the last time Trey had kissed her.

  Anger tamped down the passion that had flared in her. She smiled a little sheepish grin as she realized everyone in the room had stopped to look at her and Trey.

  "Good thing we're not trying to keep a low profile," she murmured.

  The crowd went back to their conversations and a man approached them. Average height. He wore black tails and a burgundy cummerbund. He carried himself as if he couldn't be more comfortable in his skin.

  If he wasn't the product of wealth, he played the role well.

  His eyes held amusement as his hand reached out to Mallory. "I'm presuming Mr. and Mrs. Vincenzo."

  "Yes." Mallory took a step closer to Trey.

  "Paul Stanley."

  His hand wasn't greasy as she expected. It was warm with the hint of calluses. This man didn't grow up in a penthouse. More like the streets of Newark. She knew that for a fact.

  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stanley," she said.

  He gazed at her as if she were the only woman in the room.

  She understood why he had been able to snag several young wives. I wonder why they left? Maybe the charisma wore off when he tired of his new toys?

  She kept a smile plastered on her face even as she realized Trey had left her to deal with the wolf alone.

  "You're the founder of this fine organization," she said. "I so wanted to meet you."

  "Really?"

  He led her out to the balcony.

  One little push and he'd be over the edge…

  She shook away the idea. His plans were in motion and they needed to stop them. Killing him wouldn't solve that. Despite the satisfaction it would give me. This man wants to kill innocent children.

  "I've been thinking I'd like to do more than just write a check," she said, smiling. "I wondered if there was anything for a bored rich lady to do in your organization."

  "Well, short of office help, I don't know what you mean."

  His teeth were too white. Capped, she thought. She'd forgotten as much about him as she'd once known. "I was thinking more administrative. Such as what you do."

  He laughed, his head thrown back. "I don't think the depths of my foundation are any place for a lady."

  I could take him. If I hoist the dress just a bit, a nice roundhouse to the head would tip him over the railing.

  A glance told her that Trey was not back. She had to stall longer.

  A shiver ran up her spine. Something didn't feel right.

  Trouble? Will I have to save Trey's neck again?

  Paul Stanley kept making small talk. The weather had never seemed so boring. Relief washed over her as a man in a suit whispered in Stanley's ear.

  "If you'll excuse me," he kissed Mallory's hand, "I'm sure we can talk about this later."

  When he was gone, she wiped her hand on her dress.

  The room buzzed with party chatter. No one gave her any notice.

  With Stanley's attention elsewhere, she slipped out to the hallway. If she were caught, she'd say she was looking for the ladies' room to powder her nose. She had never powdered her nose. Ever.

  A door sat ajar two rooms away. The hallway was deserted. She walked around as if she were lost. A glance over her shoulder told her no one had followed.

  Inside the room, someone rifled through papers. She sensed and then saw someone approach Trey.

  With her dress hoisted, she let out a roundhouse kick and sent the large man onto the floor.

  Trey found her in the darkness. "Thanks."

  "Should we move Kono?"

  "Help me put him in the bathroom," Trey said.

  With quiet grunts and groans, they dragged the large man into the suite's bathroom and closed the door.

  "You find anything?"

  "Maybe. We'll have to say our goodbyes. How was Stanley?"

  "One kick and he'd have been off the balcony."

  "Was he looking for wife number four?"

  "No just my chest. When I asked about a bigger role in the foundation, he might as well have told me not to worry my pretty little head."

  "And you didn't kick him for that?" Trey chuckled as he put an arm around Mallory. He pulled her into another room and pushed her against the wall. His lips came down hard again as his hands traveled the length of her.

  Her hormones betrayed her and came alive, causing her hands to take an inventory of him. He was as hard as she remembered.

  Voices outside made her stiffen, but Trey didn't let up.

  The speakers came closer and she recognized it as the wormy man who had saved her from Paul Stanley.

  The door opened and the lights came on. The speaking stopped.

  "Well, you two."

  Mallory pushed Trey away, not as hard as she wanted to. "Excuse us."

  Trey smiled like a cat that had a secret. "I just can't get enough of her."

  Paul Stanley patted him on the back. "Maybe you two need to call it a night."

  Trey nodded and led her out the door. He didn't let go, even in the elevator. "Suppose he's got cameras."

  Mallory played along. Her body recalled his touch and responded. She didn't want to remember, but her heart had other ideas. Goosebumps covered her skin and she felt as if her nipples could poke a hole in her dress.

  The doors opened on the first floor and Trey led her out, relinquishing his hold when they entered the lobby.

  "Wait until you see what I got," he said.

  Mallory took a shower. She needed the distance and the cold water to get back on solid ground. Her hormones in check, she wrapped herself in a robe she found and left the bathroom.

  Trey sat at the desk, his bow tie loose and his shirt open. Stray bits of hair had come out of his ponytail and curled around his face. She could tell he'd run his hand through it a few times, a sure sign he was deep in thought.

  Mallory settled on the bed and waited.

  "I think we have what we need." A grin burst onto his face.

  His gaze went to her face and then down her body. He nodded his approval.

  She sensed that she looked like a side of beef to a hungry man. "Show me." She rose and crossed to him.

  "This is a ledger of sorts. Payments."

  She glanced over her shoulder. She couldn't hear anyone coming down the hall. It made her nervous. "You don't think he'll wonder where this is."

  "He had three of them. This is the oldest."

  "Where'd you find it?" She leaned over him to look at the abbreviations, times and dates. Nothing made sense.

  "In a drawer."

  "Locked?"

  "Of course. He wouldn't put anything important in it otherwise."

  "So do we go to your supervisor with this?"

  "Greg Villa? No, I don't trust him. I know someone above him we can talk to."

  "Wait a second. I get this. Name, time, date. Must be payments or pickups and drop-offs." She took the ledger from him and walked away. When she turned b
ack to him, he'd been staring at her butt. He didn't have the decency to pretend otherwise. "Trey."

  "What? You dress like that and expect me not to look?"

  "Like what? I'm wearing more than most girls do to high school." She shook her head. She didn't want to lose the track she was on. "Don't leer. Look at this."

  She set the book down, pointing. "Here it has a P, a few days later the same abbreviation and a D."

  "Pickup and drop-off."

  "Right. He's moving something around."

  "Guns."

  She stepped away from him. "You sound so sure. He wasn't into this before."

  "He was. Well, just starting when you left."

  "Damn. He's already got the connections with his import business. Lucky for him he's been importing and exporting products from the Middle East for years. You think he's been involved longer than we know?"

  Trey leaned back in the chair, his fingers laced on the top of his head. The posture caused his shirt to open more, which revealed dark chest hair.

  For a moment, her breath caught, remembering that chest against hers. She spun around and walked away to think. She shook her head to clear it. "Do you think we've been set up all along? I mean, even back before I left? Someone strung us along to look for him, but didn't want us to catch him because he really isn't the guy."

  He smiled as if his star pupil had just figured out a difficult problem. "I had that feeling."

  "Or did you know?"

  Her anger spiked. How else has he lied to me?

  "No, I didn't. I had an idea, especially after how close we got and what happened."

  He stared at her stomach. His eyes bore through the robe to her scar. It throbbed as if in response to him. She hated her body for betraying her.

  She pulled the robe tighter around her. "It was odd that everything went to hell on such a well-planned mission."

  "Is that why you left?" Trey stood, stretched his long, lean frame as he did.

  Her spine stiffened. She clenched her fists. "Now's not the time."

  "When is the time, Mal? When? You gonna run away from the subject forever?"

  "I'm not running away. We have to finish this case."

  "Yeah, and then? Will you tell me the truth? All of it? Why you left the organization? Why you left me?"

  Her heart stopped for a moment. Had he been insulted? "Trey, it's complicated."

  "I'm a pretty smart guy, Mal. And I'm a big boy. I can handle the truth."

  She sighed. I won't be trapped into this before I'm ready. Besides, once he knows the truth, it won't make any difference. Maybe that's why I left. He would not have cared if I stayed.

  "So make that call to whomever we need to give this info to."

  "Right. Change the subject." His eyes darkened. "I won't let you walk away this time. Not without a fight."

  Her heart filled to bursting as she thought of her safe life, her friends. "I have a very different life now, Trey."

  He nodded. "I think I'd like a different life too."

  She laughed. "Oh, Trey. You've said to me enough times that you couldn't imagine living any other way. You aren't the white-picket-fence kind of guy."

  CHAPTER 15

  Trey waited at the car while Mallory paid the breakfast check. He thought about the last few days. They'd fallen back into the partner routine.

  She'd offered alternative ways to look at the situation just as she'd done before. As much as it pained him to think it, he'd missed Mallory. She challenged him in ways no one else could. No partner since her had brought out the best in him.

  He'd jumped at the chance to bring her back into Homeland Security. He'd jump at the chance to bring her back into his bed, but that wasn't going to happen. She didn't care for him. Not at all. At least he didn't think so.

  What did she think of being back with him? He might never know. She could keep things so close to her, never revealing how she felt. Like why she'd left. He hadn't anticipated that move on her part. He'd been stunned when he'd seen her getting into a taxi with her suitcase. His shout across the street to her had gone unanswered.

  The idea that she'd been unhappy boggled his mind.

  Now he just wanted answers.

  He watched as Mallory left the restaurant. She scanned the parking lot as she moved toward the car. Had she done that in her new life? He doubted it. She'd felt safe in all her lies.

  "Where to?" she asked when he threw her the keys.

  "I have a friend."

  "Another one? You must be pretty popular in the Garden State." Her eyes twinkled at him as she stood on her side of the car. Her ponytail flopped as she talked. She looked five years younger.

  The hairdo reminded him of a passionate night of lovemaking. He'd taken her any way he could that night. He'd been voracious.

  He groaned as his friend down below came alive. He cleared his throat.

  "They live in Biggin Hill. An ex-FBI guy and a former US Marshal. Odd couple but likable."

  She slid into the car and he followed suit, hoping she didn't notice the bulge in his shorts.

  "Why odd?"

  "There's such a rivalry between those organizations it's amazing they like each other."

  "How'd they meet?" she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  "On a case."

  "What do they do now?"

  "They're both in the business. They help former law enforcement people get jobs and they supply things. My friend can get us secure cell phones and credit cards."

  She nodded. "What's our next step?"

  "I have some ideas, but let's bounce them off Stone and Jo. I'm sure between the four of us we'll figure out something. This information needs to get in the right hands and we need to get into that foundation office."

  "They have offices in Woodbridge and some other small town. We could do some breaking and entering...or were you thinking something more legitimate?" she said.

  "Let's decide later."

  Cal drove down the Parkway to South Jersey. He didn't know exactly where he was going. He would trust the online map website he used to get him there.

  He exited the highway in Gretan. The sun shone warm in the sky. The humidity hung in the trees.

  Cal was ready for battle. He wanted answers about his child and he wouldn't leave until he found them. Convent or not.

  A formidable nun greeted him at the door of what looked like a Victorian house.

  "I could have saved you a trip down here, Mr. Stedman. Those records are sealed."

  He could probably get them unsealed. "But I have health information I want to pass on to my daughter."

  "The laws are clear in this state. You need a court order to get any type of identifying information about the adoptee."

  The sister set her hands on the desk as if the matter were over.

  For Cal, it was far from over. He would get those records. Maybe a donation would help. "Do you have contact information for her?"

  "Even if I do, I can't give it to you."

  "Then contact her. See if she wants to see me."

  The nun smiled a sad smile. "It isn't that easy. You still need a court order to open the records. You could never be sure the person was your daughter unless you saw the records."

  My daughter. He liked the ring of that. "There's DNA."

  "But I can't point you in a direction. I can't do anything. My hands are tied, Mr. Stedman. I'm afraid you've wasted a trip down here."

  Mallory drove toward a house set deep in the woods. Stone Feeney and his wife, Jo, lived in a modern house in the Centre County town of Biggin Hill. A large yellow dog greeted Mallory as she got out of the car. She bent down to pet it, finding the dog less intimidating than the Great Dane. "Hey, buddy."

  At least she was trying to get used to dogs.

  Trey led the way to the front door. It opened before they reached it. A short woman eyed them.

  "Hey, Jo," Trey said.

  The woman's face broke into a smile and she hugged Trey with the
efficiency of someone not used to affection. A taller man with similar coloring to Trey and a bushy moustache appeared.

  Trey turned to her. "This is my partner, Mallory."

  Partner? She shrugged. She held out her hand to the small blonde. "Nice to meet you."

  The woman's perusal stripped her bare, leaving Mallory feeling as if she could see into her soul.

  "I'm Jo. This is my husband, Stone. The dog's Mumford."

  "I met Mumford," Mallory said. Brilliant conversationalist. Her nerves were suddenly on edge. People shooting at her didn't do it. Meeting new people did.

  A child appeared in the doorway. Another blond-haired, blue-eyed impish little boy. He looked up at her with all the innocence in the world.

  Mallory's heart sank.

  "This is our son, Liam," Jo said.

  Trey squatted until he was eye-level with the boy. "Last time I saw you, you were just out of diapers."

  "Uncle Trey, I haven't worn diapers in years." The little boy rolled his eyes.

  "And what are you doing up so early?" Trey said.

  "I have camp. I can't wait to go. We're doing a scavenger hunt."

  Trey ruffled the little boy's hair. "Sounds fun."

  Frozen, Mallory watched the scene as if through a window. She was an interloper. Not part of the action. No history.

  Jo tugged on her arm. "Let's let the men bond. You have breakfast?"

  "Yes, but only one cup of coffee."

  Relief washed over Mallory as she left the little boy with the bigger boys.

  Jo led her to a modern kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. She motioned for Mallory to sit at one end of the granite-topped island. The room was cozy and warm and it reminded Mallory of her own. Will my life ever be normal again? Will I sit at my ugly table and wait for my new furniture? How mundane it all seemed compared to the past few hours.

  A coffee cup appeared and then a pot of fresh coffee.

  "So you're Trey's partner," Jo said.

  "It was a long time ago. Seems one of our cases has come back and I've been reenlisted to help."

  "You got out?"

  There was no surprise in her voice as if she too had escaped.

  Mallory nodded as she sipped the black liquid. "Five years ago."