Blonde Demolition Read online

  Her hands pushed him away and he stepped back. Her eyes glazed over, her face remained flushed. She'd felt it too.

  He hung his head. She would never admit it. "You felt something."

  Her hand went to her lips.

  His eyebrows went up as he moved his face closer. He put a hand on her cheek. "Don't deny it. Just don't say anything."

  CHAPTER 17

  Mallory stood in the silence of their interrupted passion. Her legs quaked. Her hands closed to fists. This wasn't what she wanted to feel.

  She grabbed a rafter to steady herself.

  Trey had left her alone in the attic. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with the sensations in her soul.

  Alone.

  Not that I didn't want the kiss to happen. He could have taken me on the weight bench.

  She wasn't sure why she'd stopped him.

  Forgotten emotions swirled around her. Her breath hitched while her body wanted Trey to return.

  To finish what he'd started.

  She dropped to the floor. "Oh God."

  Her scar itched for the first time in over a year. She scratched it while she gazed out the window at gathering clouds. A storm was coming and she didn't think it would just be outside.

  There was a showdown with Trey in her future.

  "I have to stop this," she muttered. "Stop him from riling me, kissing me, touching me."

  Like a lover.

  He must think he could possess her heart and soul again. Leaving had destroyed her once. Now he'd be the one to go.

  I have to face him. She shook her head and wiped her hands on her jeans. Tell him why I left.

  The morning before their last assignment together, he'd gone ahead. She'd sat in the bathroom staring at the blue line. The one she hadn't been at all surprised to see. The one she should have tested for months earlier.

  She rose, her determination almost intact. She'd face the dragon and the dragon would be cowed.

  Mallory entered the kitchen to the smell of popcorn. Trey must have known they needed to talk. Two beers sat open on the table. She'd snagged her truck keys from their hiding place on the way down.

  "Sit."

  "I get to talk first. It's my house," she said.

  "Fine, just talk. The truth."

  She sat and took a sip of her beer.

  His gaze never left hers.

  She eased out a deep, fortifying breath. "I wasn't in the hospital recovering from what the organization told you." Mallory let the words sink in. Trey hadn't flinched.

  His cell phone rang and the moment was gone.

  "Let it go to voicemail," she said.

  He didn't.

  She didn't feel any relief. She still had to wait for that other shoe to drop. The one where she'd find out how he felt.

  Her secret would be out.

  He murmured something into the phone, his eyes watching her. Then he flipped the phone closed, put it in the middle of the table. "That was Stone. Something's up."

  "What?" she asked, her attention diverted.

  "Shh!" He cocked his head. "Don't know, but this means we need to move. Right now."

  His hand yanked her off her chair and to the floor as bullets flew in from the backyard. His body rested on hers. Her breath flew out of her as pieces of her kitchen rained down.

  "Basement," she managed to say. She pointed to a door just outside the kitchen.

  "We'll be trapped."

  He had his gun out. When the firing stopped, he poked his head up. She assumed he would take a shot. He did, more than one.

  "I can't see them."

  When he rolled off her, she crawled over to the basement door.

  He was behind her when she was halfway down the steps. "Mallory."

  "Come on. Trust me," she said.

  They stopped on the steps. In the dim light of the stairway, his stare bore into her. He calculated. The news had affected him. And she hadn't revealed it all. Now he knew for sure that she had hidden something from him.

  "Fine," he said.

  Not a glowing endorsement. Still she'd take it. She grabbed a large flashlight from a shelf on the wall and motioned for Trey to do the same. "We can turn off the lights."

  The lights went out.

  "Or assume they'll turn off the power," she said. "I don't know how they got past my perimeter."

  "You set up security systems?"

  "Why is that so surprising? Look what I did for a living. For all I knew the government wasn't thrilled that I left. Did you really think I'd forget all that I learned?"

  He motioned to her. "Lead on."

  She did, shining her flashlight ahead to a large metal door.

  Trey put a hand on it. "Fireproof?"

  "You bet."

  "Who installed this stuff?"

  "Mostly me, but some of it was done by a security company and an electrician in the firehouse."

  He followed her, his hand on her shoulder. He didn't use his flashlight, just trusted her.

  "Did anyone ask what it was for?"

  "I told them a wine cellar."

  He squeezed her shoulder. The warmth from his touch seeped into her bones.

  "Did it work?"

  "Until it was clear this was a tunnel not a room."

  "You finish it?" he asked.

  "Nothing like paranoia to keep you going," Mallory said.

  With Trey's help, she heaved open the door and closed it behind them.

  "Where does it come out?"

  "Down by the river that runs along my property."

  "You thought of everything." Admiration tinged his voice.

  She had to swell with pride, though she wished his opinion didn't matter to her.

  "Where will we go?"

  "I've been thinking about that. Can you get someone to pick us up? I've run out of options. I'm loath to call Stone and Jo again."

  "Jesse."

  "You think that's a good idea?"

  Mallory paused. "He'll do it without asking questions. He knows what I did for the government."

  "You told him?"

  She moved now, knowing the trapdoor in the side of the hill was near. "He deserved to know the truth, especially if I were going to leave on this assignment."

  "You're that close?"

  She bit her lip. She should tell him the truth about Jesse and her, while her emotional side needed some distance between her and Trey. She found the way out of the tunnel. "Why don't we talk about this later?"

  Booth watched the action with calm from the woods. Someone else was trying to kill Mallory. She was his target. His payoff for hanging around all these years.

  He sighted the first man and pulled the trigger. The man went down without as much as a squeal.

  No one was killing his target.

  The shaking began. Sweat poured off him. It went into his eyes, blurring his vision.

  "Shit. Why now?"

  He'd hoped today would be a good day. Taking deep breaths, he attempted to still his quaking hands. They stopped moving.

  He sighted the second shooter as he had stopped to reload. The man dropped.

  Booth listened. There was no one else in the woods. None he could hear at least. He shook his head, satisfied he'd taken down the shooters.

  Then he went to see if Mallory was alive.

  The trapdoor opened onto a riverbank. The Neshanic River crawled by, coming up to Trey's thighs. He didn't mind being wet. The cool water felt good after the stuffy, humid tunnel.

  He hadn't realized he'd trained her so well. She'd been a green recruit with a chip on her shoulder when they'd been assigned together. He'd taken that naiveté and used it to form her into an agent to be proud of. He'd done better than he'd thought if she could do all this without his help. "Where to?"

  "There's a phone booth down the road at the post office," Mallory said.

  She slogged through the river, slipping once.

  Trey caught her and electricity went up his arm. Mallory was more than he had first thought
. More than just an agent. More than just the woman who broke his heart.

  What had she been doing in the hospital if not recovering from an injury? "So, you'll call Jesse?"

  Trey didn't want to come face to face with his rival. Jesse had something that Trey never would, the civilian Mallory. Or maybe he could. Just this last case and he could leave.

  They could start a life together.

  Jesse stood in his way. She'd never appreciate his strong-arming her or intimidating this other guy.

  He sighed.

  "What?"

  "I'm really at a loss. I'm so used to having backup."

  "You have me. And sometimes, Trey, that's all we ever had."

  "True. Maybe your news just stunned me. Maybe I'm wondering what else you have to tell me."

  "Trey, you're always on. I've never seen you not be a cop. Shake it off. We need you whole."

  She was right, of course. Then he went into cop mode.

  Something had made Cal go to the library. Again.

  "I've spent more time here in the last week than I have the whole time I've lived in Coleville."

  The reference librarian laughed. "Sometimes that is how it works. I was working on your problem and I came up with what may be a solution."

  He sat in front of the computer and looked at her over his shoulder. The library had that quiet white-noise hush libraries possess. Cal found it soothing. On such a sunny day no one was here anyway, except for pupils getting extra summer help.

  "There's a registry you can put your information into and the data on the child. If there's a match, they'll call you."

  Cal's blood began to pulse. "It isn't illegal?"

  "No, because by entering into the registry you are giving consent."

  This might be the answer he was looking for. "Do they search?"

  "Not from what I saw on the website. They just match. The rest is up to you."

  This could be it. But only if his child had registered. "Do they have a good success rate?"

  The librarian shrugged. "I didn't look that far on the website. But it's a start."

  "Better than what I had before." Cal poised his fingers over the keyboard. "Point me in the direction."

  Mallory didn't speak again until they arrived at the post office. The desk was closed for the day, though the lobby was still open. The storm clouds that gathered earlier hadn't dissipated. Instead, they threatened to dump some serious moisture on them.

  Jesse answered his cell on the first ring.

  "Hey, it's Mal."

  "Mallory, where are you? Or can't you tell me that?"

  "Neshanic Post Office. We need a ride. Don't tell anyone."

  "We?"

  "Trey and I," she whispered.

  "Oh, okay."

  Leave it to Jesse to know when to not to push. Her heart filled with gratitude. Why can't I just love this man? She'd have him to go back to when all this insanity was done. Right now, she didn't know what she'd go back to. "Thanks, Jess."

  "I'll be there in ten minutes."

  She replaced the receiver as the first drops hit. The wind turned over all the leaves so you could see the underside.

  The power of the impending storm made the hairs on her arm dance. Or was it the information she still had to spill to Trey that had her off-kilter?

  She and Trey escaped into the lobby of the post office.

  This was a small-town branch, where the FBI wanted posters competed with the lost-chicken signs. Thunder rumbled first in the distance, then closer as lightning lit up the sky.

  A freight train lumbered by across the street.

  She shivered from being wet. Trey held her close.

  "I'm fine." She couldn't handle his touch. He made her feel things she didn't want to.

  He put his hands back to his sides. "Just trying to help."

  She caught the petulant tone in his voice. "What's your problem?"

  "You drop a bomb on me and we can't even discuss it."

  "I didn't plan for those people to shoot up my house as a diversion."

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I know. I'm sorry."

  Her eyes flared. "Should I mark this date on my calendar?"

  "What?"

  "You said you were sorry. I'm not sure I've ever heard those words from you."

  He shrugged. "People change."

  "Not that much."

  "You have. You've grown. Matured. Ripened in a way."

  She blinked. "I'm not sure what you mean."

  "You set up this elaborate system at your house. Maybe that's paranoid for some people, but not for us. Not in our line of work. We've put some powerful people in jail. You opted to go it alone and protect yourself."

  She straightened. "I've always taken care of myself."

  He chuckled and brushed a hair from her face. "The difference is that it used to be bravado. The last vestiges of your orphanage experience. Now you really do take care of yourself. Including asking for help."

  She stepped away from him. His compliment had stolen her words. After all this time, it was odd that his opinion would matter so much. Regret for her action five years ago surfaced. She tamped it down. He'd shared none of this with her and less of himself back then.

  She heard a car pull into the parking lot.

  "Jesse's here."

  "We're not finished." Trey pushed open the door.

  Mallory kissed Jesse through the open car window and Trey wondered if it was to put a distance between them. It was just a peck on the cheek, but it was a kiss nonetheless.

  Trey refused to be put in his place. She'd see how he felt. He'd bide his time. Besides, they were in this together. In the end he'd have her where he wanted her. And not just naked and writhing underneath him. He'd have found his way back into her heart.

  "Where to?" Jesse didn't look at him.

  Trey could understand. Not one to normally be jealous, he wouldn't be happy if his girlfriend spent time with an old lover.

  "I need to get my truck," Mallory said.

  "Yeah? You don't use it that much," Jesse replied.

  "I know, but my other car has no…uh, is out of commission."

  Jesse nodded. "Okay." He patted her on the leg.

  Staking his territory, Trey realized. He didn't blame Jesse. He'd concede to the guy in this case.

  Mallory smiled at Jesse. "Thanks for understanding."

  Trey settled into the backseat and only half listened to their small talk. His senses tingled any time he was around Jesse. Too bad he couldn't tell Mallory.

  Her truck was in a garage at one end of Coleville. The house was deserted, but the owner rented out the three garages on the property.

  Jesse dropped them off, which surprised Trey. He'd have stayed as long as he could. Jesse was more confident with his position than Trey thought he had a right to be.

  Trey climbed into the large diesel truck. "We need to find out who's responsible for these bombings."

  "No kidding, Sherlock."

  "Any ideas?"

  "Let's do a check on your boss."

  "Good idea."Trey said.

  "Thanks. The trouble started when he got involved. Plus, he did leave us unarmed at that cabin. Makes sense," she said. "Let me call a friend at the Coleville PD."

  She did and then they were on their way to the municipal building that housed the police department. "We'll meet Jim in the library in case anyone is looking for us."

  "He won't turn you in?"

  "He owes me."

  Her smiled indicated it was for more than just cutting his lawn. "Yeah?"

  "I saved his house from burning down."

  "Oh."

  "What'd you think it was?"

  "Nothing."

  He didn't like the idea of Mallory with anyone else. Jesse, maybe. The man wasn't a threat. Any others were unknowns.

  He shook off the feeling.

  Her friend turned out to be a nice guy with a wedding ring on his hand and about fifteen years on Mallory.

&
nbsp; "No criminal record," Jim told them. "I bet you'll find more out on your own. On the Internet. Sometimes these guys leave trails that anyone can find. We cops just forget to look."

  "Thanks, Jim." Mallory kissed his cheek and he left.

  Her cell phone vibrated. "I'll get that later. I don't recognize the number."

  He motioned to a row of computers. "Fine. I'll search."

  Trey sat as she settled on the chair next to him. Her scent wafted into his nostrils and broke his concentration.

  Still, he didn't want her anywhere else.

  CHAPTER 18

  Sweat poured off Booth. After six shots, he hadn't hit the can. A coffee can, not even a soup can. A big freaking coffee can.

  His arm hurt and tingled. The pain from holding the gun. The tingle from his disease. The disease he could no longer deny. The disease that would end his career.

  In actuality, already had.

  He still had to kill Mallory. Despite what his heart wanted.

  But he couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. Or a damned coffee can.

  When he'd been in the military, he could hit anyone, at any distance. That's why he'd been valuable. First, to the government. And then, to the highest bidder.

  He closed his eyes and willed the strength back into his arm. Willed himself to raise the gun, try one more shot—and not to be sick.

  "He's a member of a crime family." Mallory read over Trey's shoulder. How had they missed it?

  They'd been at it for an hour. Her stomach was empty and her nerves were frayed. At last, a break.

  "How did he get into Homeland Security?" Trey asked. The library chair squeaked as he leaned away from the monitor. He rubbed one eye.

  "You tell me, Trey. How did he hide this from the FBI, assuming they did the background check? Or does he know where a body is buried and that's why they let him in?"

  The thought chilled her. She and Trey had stumbled upon the connection between Greg Villa and a New Jersey crime family by accident. Why hadn't Homeland Security seen it when they'd looked into his past?

  "Maybe we need to pay your boss a visit," she said.