Blonde Demolition Page 13

  Trey nodded. "I'll call him. Have us meet somewhere."

  "I have just the place."

  Mallory drove to Waterbridge Mall, situated at the junction of three major highways. If they needed to escape, they could, but so could his boss.

  Mallory stood at one end of the entrance to the food court. She could look across and see Trey at the other end. They were as spread out as they could be. She hoped they didn't draw attention to themselves.

  Mall shoppers milled about, though the place wasn't crowded. The smell of grease wafted up her nose.

  Greg Villa walked into the food court as if he owned the place. His trench coat on a warm day sent up red flags for Mallory. He must be armed and not afraid to use it in a crowded mall.

  Her adrenaline rushed through her body. Maybe meeting here had been a miscalculation. She was armed, with no intention of letting anyone know that.

  Her heart skipped a few beats.

  Trey tailed his boss as the man walked through the center of the tables. When he reached the end, he turned slowly and Trey smiled at him.

  Mallory moved next to Greg. "Shall we sit?"

  Greg licked his lips and peered over his shoulder.

  No easy exit, though they didn't want to box him in. He'd be desperate.

  "Let's talk," he said.

  "Sit and we're all ears," Trey replied.

  Greg found a chair and sat. Trey slumped into the chair across from his boss, while Mallory sat with her back against the wall, her gaze flickering over the room, looking for Greg's backup.

  No one seemed to take notice of them.

  "We know about your organized crime connection," Trey said. "We're just wondering how you got hooked up with Paul Stanley."

  "He's never been linked with the mob," Mallory put in. She knew the case as well as Trey. She might be a little rusty, but Trey had made no progress since she'd been gone. The case had been cold for five years.

  "Paul Stanley?" Greg chuckled. "You can't make a connection because there isn't one. And that organized crime thing isn't true."

  "Yeah, right," Mallory said.

  "Can't believe everything you read," said Greg.

  She would believe him if she hadn't contacted the person who had the information. He'd been more than willing to crucify Greg Villa.

  "Why'd you set us up?" Trey asked.

  Trey looked hurt. Mallory knew it was an act. They'd talked about it as they drove here. Would Greg fall for it?

  "Higher-ups wanted you out of the way." He glanced at Mallory, leaning closer as if he were divulging the secret of the universe. Then he looked at Trey. "You haven't been the same in five years."

  Mallory looked at Trey. He didn't react. He was good. Her eyes continued to scan the crowd. Still no one looked their way.

  All they needed was some vital piece of information that Greg may not know he had. They could be on their way to getting Paul Stanley.

  Greg continued. "They think you're a rogue agent. You went outside the organization to bring in your girlfriend."

  Mallory didn't take the bait. Trey could bend rules when he wanted, but she didn't think he would have contacted her on his own. Not unless he already knew his boss was crooked.

  No emotion colored his words. "I did that under your orders."

  She couldn't read Trey's expression, didn't know what went through his mind.

  "That's not what the higher-ups think," Greg said.

  Trey yanked the man from his chair. "And who told them what I did? Who described it in those terms?"

  "Me."

  The smile that appeared on Greg's face resembled a jackal going in for the kill.

  "You're screwed," Trey said.

  "I don't think so. The cards are in my hands. I'm your only contact with the organization."

  Trey let him go and his shoulders drooped. He walked away from the table. Greg followed, with Mallory not far behind.

  "What options do I have?" said Trey.

  Mallory wondered how it had all spun out of control. "Trey, you can't believe this guy. You can't be serious?"

  "He's left me no alternative." His eyes held defeat. He wasn't pleading with her as if this were a trick.

  They exited the food court.

  "My car's this way. We can talk there," Greg said.

  What is Trey doing? This isn't part of the script.

  She followed anyway. This was bizarro world. She'd never seen Trey defeated like this.

  Where does this leave me? A fugitive?

  "This is nuts, Trey. He's lied about you and you're going to follow him like a lamb to the slaughter? This isn't like you."

  Trey turned on her. "Maybe you don't know me anymore."

  "He's a different person than you remember," Greg said.

  Trey used that moment to grab his boss.

  As if he'd anticipated it, Greg pulled out his gun and held Mallory close to him. "One bullet and she's gone."

  Trey didn't bother to pull out his weapon. "I'm not armed."

  "Yeah, right. We're going to walk through that door. It goes to the outside."

  Mallory dragged her feet as Greg yanked her along.

  "Do what he asks, Mal. He has all the cards."

  When they reached the door, Greg hit Trey with the butt of his gun and knocked him unconscious. "You're knight is now gone."

  Greg pulled her down the hallway and toward the exit. Too many people mulled about for her to do anything right now. Her arm hurt, the way he yanked at it, but she knew paybacks were a bitch.

  When they entered the parking lot, no one was around. Mallory stumbled and brought Greg off balance. She spun and grabbed his wrist, twisting it. Her other hand struck his throat.

  He gagged.

  She kicked out at his knee as his grip loosened. This time he grunted and let go of her. She yanked on his gun hand. The weapon skittered across the sidewalk and into some bushes.

  "Bitch." Blood oozed from his mouth as he stood.

  She waited for him to come at her.

  Instead, he turned and ran.

  She couldn't get a shot off without hitting a car. Frustration shuddered through her. She couldn't even call for backup. Besides, her concern was for Trey.

  When she found him, Trey was dazed but alive. Several cleaning women hovered over him, speaking in rapid Spanish. Mallory assured them in her best high school Spanish that he was okay and she'd take care of him.

  As she helped Trey to his feet, he muttered, "Some knight I am."

  She put his arm over her shoulder and helped him to the door. "I don't expect you to be a knight. I only wish you wouldn't be a liability."

  Mallory drove around without a purpose and wondered if they should go back to the shore or just find a ratty motel right there. Their funds were limited since they didn't want to leave an electronic trail. Jesse had supplied some money, but Mallory had no idea how long they'd be on the run.

  Her mind wandered and she couldn't focus on the road. The whole scenario at the mall scared her. She'd forgotten just what it was like to come face-to-face with a bad guy.

  She'd forgotten the sheer terror that she used to feel, though never let show. Her heart just then returned to its normal cadence.

  The bitterness of betrayal still coated her mouth.

  "So we know Greg's crooked."

  Trey rubbed the back of his head. "No kidding."

  "You need some aspirin?"

  "No."

  He didn't pout. Trey wasn't capable. Still he did not look like a government agent. He slumped in the seat with a frown on his face.

  She had no desire to spend the day with this version of Trey, so she pulled into a drug store. "I'll get some aspirin."

  He didn't move, the big baby. She had to laugh.

  She bought aspirin, some soda and a local newspaper. When she returned, Trey had rested his head on the back of the seat.

  "Take some."

  She dropped the bottle in his lap and handed him a soda.

  "Thanks."<
br />
  He smiled at her.

  "You must be in a lot of pain."

  He took the pills before answering. "I let you down."

  She blinked. Trey showing weakness? Remorse? This new Trey kept her off balance. "I don't get it."

  "You had to defend yourself."

  "So? I did that plenty of times when we were partners. I always held up my end."

  He took another sip of the soda and gazed out the windshield. "But you were trained then."

  "I've been studying tae kwon do for five years. How could I be any more trained? I'll have you know that I've whipped guys bigger than you."

  "Yeah, but those guys wouldn't hit a girl."

  Mallory chuckled. "You don't know these guys."

  Trey looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. "Why'd you leave?"

  There was no accusation in his voice.

  She blew out a long breath. "I didn't see any future. I was done with saving the world and you weren't."

  "You never asked me."

  She wanted to laugh. Here was this alpha male reduced to a little boy with a petulant voice.

  "Trey, it was obvious. Geez, you jumped at the chance to go without your wounded partner."

  "I didn't know you were wounded," he said, his voice quiet, his eyes earnest.

  That was a new look for Trey. He never did earnest. If you didn't believe him that was your problem.

  "Where did you think I was?"

  "In the confusion of that last fiasco, I had no idea. Jeff insisted you were fine and had been sent on another assignment."

  "He told you that?"

  "He said you'd been reassigned. In fact, that you'd been asked to be reassigned."

  Mallory slapped her forehead. No wonder Trey hadn't waited for her. He had no idea she'd even been in the hospital. "I asked him to cover for me, but I didn't ask him to lie. He never was good on his feet. How did he ever do undercover for so long?"

  Trey shook his head. "Don't know, but he handled us okay. Well, until that event. That one had gone south so quickly."

  She pulled her hair back out of her face. "Was Greg part of the organization then?"

  "Probably. I never met him."

  "He's younger than you, but older than me?"

  Trey nodded. "He could have been. Probably at our level. Undercover."

  "With the mob? I didn't think they were a concern for Homeland Security."

  "Who knows what some of the families were getting into those days. Whatever was profitable."

  Mallory's gaze went out the windshield. Something niggled at her brain. "There is something familiar about Greg. Can't place him, but maybe we saw him once."

  His voice remained tired. "Possible."

  "I think we need some advice," Mallory said.

  She nodded to herself, sure that her decision was correct.

  "Who?"

  "Jeff. Know where he is?"

  "Yeah, but you aren't going to like it," Trey said.

  Sunnyside Nursing and Rehabilitation Center sat down a two-lane road that had once been the main drag. Now it was a secondary road with little traffic.

  Mallory looked over the series of squat buildings. "He's here?"

  "He had a stroke. Never recovered."

  "Will he know us?"

  Trey shrugged. "I'm not sure."

  She put her hand on his arm. "You haven't been to see him."

  Trey looked at the floor. "No."

  Her suspicions had been true. If she wasn't whole, he wouldn't want her. I'm not whole.

  He hadn't bothered to see his mentor after the man got sick. That said a lot.

  Her scar itched.

  She sighed. "Well, we're here now. If I'd known he was so close, I'd have visited."

  A nurse in scrubs covered with bears directed them down a hallway. Someone took Mallory's hand. She looked down to see a gray-haired woman in a wheelchair. There was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Get me out of here."

  Mallory squeezed the woman's thin hand. "I can't, honey. You don't belong to me."

  The woman pointed to Trey. "Can I go with him? He's cute."

  "You don't belong to him either."

  That seemed to satisfy the woman. She withdrew her hand and went back into her mind.

  Mallory shook her head. "I'm not sure I want to grow old."

  "If you don't know what's going on, it probably isn't so bad," Trey said.

  "Good point. Here's his room."

  Jeff Golan had aged in the last five years. Instead of looking like a fifty-something spy, he looked two decades older. He sat in a wheelchair gazing out the window. Mallory couldn't tell if his eyes were taking in the view.

  "Jeff?"

  He blinked and turned toward her.

  "Jeff, it's Mallory Sage."

  A smile lit the man's face. This man had been her lifeline when the rigors of undercover work dragged her down. She'd learned almost as much from him as she did from Trey.

  "I brought Trey with me."

  When the man's gaze turned to her partner, the smile faded.

  "Jeff?" Mallory brought his attention back to her.

  A nurse walked in. "He can't talk."

  "He knows who we are," Mallory said.

  "Memory's still good, but he can't talk. Here." She handed Jeff a pad of paper and a pencil. "He can still write."

  She left and then Mallory turned back to Jeff and smiled. "I didn't know you were here, Jeff. I would have visited sooner."

  Jeff wrote, "I know that."

  "We're in a bind, Jeff. Greg Villa, your replacement, is crooked. He's got us on the run and Paul Stanley is back in action. We need to prevent his doing any further damage. So we need your advice."

  "Make contact with Stanley," he wrote.

  "We have. We're a rich couple."

  Jeff smiled at that, putting pen to paper. "You could always pass as a couple. Go with that. Contact him again."

  Mallory looked up at Trey, who nodded. "Makes sense."

  "So we should just let Greg go?"

  "Keep an eye on him," Jeff wrote. "But you should pursue Stanley directly."

  "The only way to stop it is to cut the roots," Mallory said.

  "You learn well, grasshopper," Jeff wrote.

  At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

  "Thanks, Jeff. I'll be back another day."

  She kissed him on the cheek before leaving him.

  CHAPTER 19

  Cal wasn't giving up. If he had just a short time to find his daughter, then he'd do whatever was necessary.

  Legal or not.

  Which he didn't think it was, but he still took a day to put his information into the registry the librarian had found for him.

  After filling in the form, he sat and stared at it. Part of him was nervous about not finding a match and another was nervous about finding one. How would he explain his absence to this now-grown child?

  He hadn't been given a choice and that made him mad. He'd have done right by Marsha if he hadn't been in South America. Unreachable, even to his family.

  Then the thought struck him. Maybe she wanted a better life for our daughter than we could give her.

  Cal knew he wouldn't have quit the military—not for anything. But he could have taken safer assignments. Maybe not have been in Special Forces. Done something with less risk that had him home every night.

  He shook his head. Maybe not, but it would have been nice to have made the decision himself.

  He hadn't been give the choice and that stuck in his craw.

  "You were quiet," Mallory said when they were back in the truck.

  "He obviously didn't want to talk to me."

  "What happened between you and Jeff? He was your mentor. Almost your father figure."

  Trey's chuckle came from deep inside him. "Don't romanticize him. He was a tough bastard."

  She started the engine. "He wanted us to be our best. He wanted you to be your best."

  "Is that what you think?" Trey shook
his head, shifted in his seat. "He rode my butt every chance he got."

  Anger colored his words. This was more emotion than Trey often expressed.

  "Trey, he cared about you. Do you know he lost his son to drugs?"

  "No, I didn't. What does that have to do with anything?"

  Trey leaned back in the seat, his head back, eyes closed as if he wanted the conversation done.

  "You were the son he lost. He had a second chance with you."

  "And I let him down too. That's a heavy burden, Mal."

  "Maybe. But you never had to answer to anyone in your life, did you?"

  "What do you know about my life?" Trey's eyes penetrated her.

  "Not much. Your father was a bastard. Your mother died when you were young. You fended for yourself. That's all I've heard of the sob story. You escaped to the military, but you never told me what you did. Even though all you've seen is written on your face."

  Trey didn't flinch. "You think you have me figured out?"

  "No, Trey, I don't. I've dipped a toe in the pool that is you. You never let me get farther. You wonder why I left? What future did I have with someone who couldn't share anything with me other than his body?"

  "What else should I share? You want to know about my crappy childhood?"

  "You know all about mine."

  "Sure I do. What does that prove?" Trey asked.

  "That I'm past mine. You haven't gotten past yours. You still hold a chip on your shoulder if you're asked to take responsibility for anyone but yourself."

  "I took you in. I made you the undercover officer you are."

  "Yeah. I won't deny that. Once we were out of the field, you shut down. You didn't let me in."

  She drove out of the lot, not sure where she was headed. She saw a park down the road and pulled into it. "I can't drive and argue."

  Trey looked out the window. She couldn't see his face. She waited. For what, she wasn't sure. She didn't expect a revelation or for him to pour out his soul.

  "I'm sorry."

  "What?"

  He turned back to her. "You heard me. I'm sorry. If that's why you left me then I'm sorry that you needed more than I could give."

  She stewed on that for a moment. Trey didn't normally apologize and she'd heard two of them in the last few days. Was he changing?

  Rubbing her temple, she let out a breath. "Where are we supposed to go from here?"