Blonde Demolition Read online

  "Guess that depends on whether we can forgive each other."

  She smacked her forehead. "Each other? What did I do?"

  "You never gave me the chance to be more for you. You never asked."

  "So it's my fault now?" Her pulse ratcheted up a notch. He was not going to turn this around on her.

  "No, we're both at fault."

  She could live with that. She gripped the steering wheel. "Okay. Maybe we better get this case done."

  He reached over and held her chin so she had to look at him. "Don't change the subject."

  "Fine."

  "What other secrets are you holding back?"

  They'd been here before, but she didn't expect anything to distract them this time. No one should shoot at them here.

  Just when she opened her mouth, Trey's cell phone rang.

  "Who would have this number? Jo and Stone?"

  Mallory shrugged and looked away while he took the call.

  Trey answered his cell.

  "Mr. Vincenzo. This is Paul Stanley. You're a hard man to track down."

  How did he get this number? "Why were you trying to reach me?"

  He turned down the volume on the radio. Mallory cocked her head, a question in her eyes.

  Trey mouthed, "Stanley."

  "Your wife suggested you and she wanted a larger role in the Stanley Foundation."

  "Yes, we do," Trey said. "I wasn't sure you were interested in bringing us aboard."

  "I apologize for not getting back to you. I've had a situation here and as I said, you were difficult to track down"

  "My cell phone was stolen that night," Trey lied. "I'm not sure where exactly."

  "I guess thieves were all around. I had something stolen also."

  "That's awful. I'd have thought with all those bodyguards, you'd be pretty safe."

  "One of my guards was overpowered. I can only figure two people were involved."

  A chill went through Trey.

  "You think?"

  "Yes, but that isn't your concern. I'd like to invite you and your wife to dinner. Tonight or tomorrow night?"

  "I think we could make it tonight. Let me check with my wife in case she has something going on."

  "Is she there?" Stanley asked.

  "No, she's gone out. I'll have to call you back."

  Trey motioned for pen and paper. Mallory dug in her door, found both and handed them to him.

  Stanley gave his number to Trey and then disconnected.

  "Bingo. We're in."

  "How did he get that number?"

  Trey stopped for a moment. "I didn't ask. But I think he knows we stole something from him."

  "Why?"

  "Because he told me about an incident. If he thought we weren't involved, he wouldn't have mentioned it."

  "Good point. So what do we do? Go to dinner without backup?"

  "I can get backup. Jo and Stone can help."

  Mallory bit her lip. This whole situation was getting complicated. "Should we really involve them?"

  "You don't have to see their son."

  She shook her head. "It has nothing to do with that. We're basically fugitives right now. Do we want to make someone else that also?"

  "Stone's only barely worked within the law, anyway. What choice do we have? We can't go into the lion's den without the trainer."

  Mallory drove back to Jo and Stone's house feeling as if she'd been through most of Northern New Jersey in the last few days.

  The same big yellow dog greeted them or at least Trey. He had a thing with animals and children. The Feeneys' son was nowhere to be found.

  "They sent him to a friend's house," Trey said.

  Relief washed over her.

  "You'll have to explain this kid thing. I don't get it."

  He stared hard at her, but she wouldn't speak on the subject. "You wouldn't understand."

  "Try me."

  Jo appeared at the front door with a smile. "We meet again. Wish this were under better circumstances."

  So did Mallory. Weariness stiffened her bones and muscles. She wanted to take a long bath, sleep for two days, then work out harder than she ever had.

  Jo took her hand. "Come."

  She followed the woman deep into the house, where she found a bathtub full of water. And bubbles. "We need to sort this evening out."

  Jo shook her head. "It can wait a half hour."

  "I have to get something to wear."

  "I have a closetful and we're the same size. Relax. The men are bonding and you can take a bath. I'll make sure nothing gets talked about until you're done."

  Warmth infused her. She could be friends with this woman. No one had ever taken care of her like this. "Jo, you're wonderful."

  "These men can go for days without creature comforts, and I'm sure you can too, but it helps to unwind for a little while. You'll be able to conquer the world."

  The petite woman left her with instructions not to get out until she looked like a prune.

  Mallory undressed and slid into the warm, soapy water. "Ah…"

  She hadn't realized how much she needed this. Not one for girly things, she didn't indulge herself often. Maybe I should. Life is short.

  She found a book and began to read about an FBI profiler and a homicide detective. When she finished three chapters, the water had turned cool. She put down the book and turned on the hot water.

  As she turned it off, Trey barged into the bathroom.

  "You know how to knock?"

  "Why would I have to? I've seen you naked."

  She longed to smack the leer off his face. "Savor the memory. It won't happen again."

  Trey surveyed the bath and bubbles. The suds had thinned so if he looked hard enough he'd see all of her. She refused to be modest.

  "This is very girly for you," he said.

  He settled on the floor next to the tub.

  She slipped lower into the water. "So? Jo had it drawn and it would have been rude to turn it down."

  He smiled as he leaned against the tub.

  "I hope you don't plan on staying?" She'd hoped to be out of there soon.

  "I brought you a robe."

  "Where?"

  He'd come in empty handed.

  He motioned over his shoulder. "It's on the bed out there."

  "And should I drip all the way out there?"

  Trey looked at the doorway, then back at her. "I'll make you a deal."

  "I don't like your deals."

  He patted the side of the tub and moved his face closer to her. "Hear me out."

  "Go ahead."

  "You let me see you naked once, and I'll go get the robe."

  She cocked her head, her eyes shuttered. "What's my alternative?" she asked.

  A grin danced on his lips. "There isn't one."

  "How's that a deal then?"

  "You get to choose to let me see you naked," Trey said. "Instead of me waiting you out until you can't sit in this tub anymore and I see you naked."

  "What is your fascination with seeing me naked?"

  "I'm a red-blooded American male and it's been a long time."

  "You saw me a few days ago."

  "Yeah, but I didn't really get to look. It's been five years. A lot could have changed."

  "We're on the lam. We have to go up against an international terrorist and all you can think about is sex?"

  His eyes widened. "Who said anything about sex? I said naked."

  "Trey, I know you. I'm naked. You want to have sex."

  "You think so highly of yourself," he said.

  "No, I just know you. A stiff breeze goes by and you want to have sex."

  He shrugged. "I'm only asking for naked, but if sex is part of the bargain, I won't turn it down."

  "So noble of you."

  "So, deal?"

  "No, get out."

  He didn't budge. They had to strategize before this evening and her half hour in the tub had stretched longer. That meant less time to talk and to dress.
/>   Oh, heck. What could it hurt?

  In one motion, she pulled the drain and rose out of the water. A fluffy towel lay behind Trey. "You can hand me that."

  He glanced at the towel, making no motion to get it for her. He looked her up and down. "You're happy to see me."

  "It couldn't be that the water was warm and the outside air is not?"

  Trey chuckled and the sound went to her toes in her vulnerable state.

  "Enough. Give me the towel."

  "There wasn't any time limit on the viewing."

  "You might want to give me the towel sometime before I freeze to death."

  "Not cold enough for that."

  The water swirled down the drain. "Come on Trey, I'm cold."

  "Turn around."

  "No. Give me the towel."

  "Just once."

  She spun on one heel and almost lost her balance in the slick tub. Trey handed her the towel and she wrapped it around herself. "Finally."

  Trey stood, a grin creasing his face. "You still look good. Guess that's why I keep pretending to be married to you."

  CHAPTER 20

  Mallory opted for the bike shorts and large shirt that Jo had left for her. She found the other three at the dining room table, food in bowls and platters.

  "You didn't have to wait." She picked a seat far away from Trey.

  He nodded his head at her from across the table. "I wouldn't dream of eating without my lovely wife."

  Mallory groaned. "Really, Trey, I know you don't need that much time to get into character."

  His grin spoke volumes. He was going to enjoy this way too much, despite the seriousness of the work. She rolled her eyes. Only Trey could make her do that.

  "Let's eat," Jo said and passed a bowl with chicken salad in it to Mallory. "Hope you're hungry."

  "I can get into any meal that I can finish without getting blown up or shot at," Mallory said.

  "I can second that. Boy, I do not miss those days," Jo said.

  Mallory dished chicken onto her plate and a bit from every other serving platter. "Do you guys do lunch like this all the time?"

  "No, just when we know someone will appreciate it," Stone said.

  "Mm," Mallory said. She did appreciate the effort.

  Trey watched her, but she refused to make eye contact. "So what's our game plan?"

  "You know we've got to convince him we want in. Then we can get a better idea of his operation and what he's planning," Trey said.

  "Got that. But what's our reasoning for wanting to get involved?" Mallory asked.

  "We're just concerned citizens."

  "Wouldn't concerned citizens be doing the opposite?" she asked.

  "You're forgetting that the Stanley Foundation is supposed to be a relief organization. We aren't supposed to know about his terrorist stuff," Trey said.

  "Mm. Right. I'm out of practice."

  "You'll fall back into it," Stone said.

  "I hope so. I wouldn't want to blow this," Mallory responded.

  Could she really do this? She'd be going back into a lion's den. One she'd been close to on that fateful day five years ago. She shook off her concerns. Too many people depended on her.

  "Can you do this?" Jo asked. She put a hand on Mallory's arm. The look she gave Mallory was that it was okay if she didn't want to. Only one who had resigned from a government agency could ever understand.

  "I can. I just need a little practice."

  "Then we'll just have to act like a married couple," Trey said.

  Mallory did not like the twinkle in his eye. "You mean bicker all the time?"

  Jo and Stone laughed.

  "That's a start," Stone said.

  "Mal, we've done it before. It'll be fine."

  She nodded, not so sure. "Well, we have that settled. Let's talk about something more positive. How did you two meet?"

  Booth sat with his legs dangling off the examination table. In the movies, doctors had large rooms. This one barely fit the table and the rolling stool that must be for the physician.

  Canned music wafted out of the speakers. Was it supposed to be soothing? Booth found it annoying.

  The nurse had taken his blood pressure and weight and then cheerfully told him the doctor would be by in a minute.

  That had been fifteen minutes ago. "Damn insurance."

  The doctor he wanted, the specialist for his disease, wasn't on his plan. So he had to go with his second choice.

  He had money to go to the first choice, but he wanted to stay under everyone's radar. Especially the guys at the firehouse. They'd know just what he could afford based on the job that was his cover.

  He shook his head.

  Not much longer, though he wasn't sure where Mallory was at this point. That would be priority one, after he filled whatever prescription he got.

  He'd done his research and he knew there were drugs he could take. Drugs to stave off the worst of the symptoms. Just until he made this last kill.

  That's all he needed.

  Then he'd be off to the island and he could hire a beautiful nurse to take care of him. In many ways.

  He glanced at his watch again.

  Another minute had passed.

  He heard someone take his file out of the slot on the door. He took a deep breath. What if the medication doesn't work on me?

  Mallory's insides twisted as they pulled up to the Sheraton again. Why does this job bother me now? She shook off her feelings. No time to look back.

  Trey put his hand on hers. "You okay? You've been quiet."

  "I'm nervous, but I'll be fine."

  "Good."

  A valet opened their doors. Mallory alighted in the hot pink sheath dress that she'd borrowed from Jo. Her heart skipped a few beats. Trey's hand on her back reassured her.

  A man in a hotel uniform directed them to an elevator. Trey pushed the button for the top executive level—where they'd been before. Paul Stanley had insisted they meet for dinner. Another day they could go to his foundation's office.

  The idea that Stanley had tracked down a cell phone given to them by Stone unnerved her. This man was more dangerous than Trey or she first thought. Certainly more connected.

  Kono greeted them, or grunted at them, when the doors opened. He sported a bump on the side of his face and a sour look about him.

  Guess he thought they'd been the culprits.

  "What a nasty bump? How did you get it?" Mallory said before she could think about it.

  Instead of an answer, he led them to the suite where the party had been. A table had been set for four and upon it, long white tapers burned. Kono left and a very young woman entered the room from one of the bedrooms.

  "Hello, I'm Vanessa Francesco."

  Mafia princess, Mallory knew. Maybe there was something to Stanley's alleged mob connection. She threw a glance at Trey and he stared at the woman as if entranced. One never knew with Trey. He did have a knack for making you feel as if you were the only person in the room.

  The woman was five years younger than Mallory and her father led one of the largest crime families in New Jersey. They'd been responsible for most of the deaths in the state in the last year. Another boss had made a move on his territory and a blood bath had ensued.

  Just how deep is organized crime into terrorism?

  Mallory held out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jessica Vincenzo."

  "Of the Budd Lake Vincenzos?"

  "No, his family's from Pittsburgh."

  "Oh." Vanessa's smile didn't falter. "And your husband?"

  "This is Paul."

  Trey held out his hand and the young woman held it for longer than she needed to. At least Mallory thought so.

  But she wasn't jealous.

  Not at all.

  She refrained from making a face at Trey behind Vanessa's back.

  When he extricated himself from the Mafia princess's grip, he moved next to Mallory, a hand on her back. She felt his warm fingers caress her as if they'd been lovers forever.<
br />
  Well, they had been lovers, just not for a long time.

  A brief grimace crossed the young woman's face and then her smile returned. Mafia princess wasn't used to being second fiddle.

  Vanity might just be her downfall.

  Mallory wanted to roll her eyes. This wasn't a contest. She was here to do a job. That's it.

  "Can I get you a drink?" Vanessa sauntered to a black lacquer bar that stood out and was not part of the original décor. It matched nothing in the elegant, but traditional room.

  "Nothing for me, thanks." She wanted to be aware of everything. She could nurse her wine with dinner.

  "Mr. Vincenzo?"

  "Paul, please. I'll take a scotch."

  When Vanessa turned her back to pour his drink, Mallory glared at him.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Trust me I can handle my alcohol more than you can. Plus, watch me get it to last all evening."

  Mallory still frowned. "I'm holding you to that."

  "I hope."

  His grin sent a chill down her spine. He took his role as her husband too seriously.

  "Your drink, Paul. Come sit," Vanessa said.

  Mallory settled herself on one end of a love seat. Trey sat next to her, very close. It occurred to her that the reason Stanley wasn't here was that they were being observed.

  She put her hand on Trey's and he smiled. Then he turned his attention to Vanessa. "Are you an associate of Mr. Stanley's?"

  "I'm his personal assistant," she said, her voice throaty, less sexy and more like she smoked too much.

  She crossed her legs and her dress slid to reveal miles of legs. Mallory's gaze went to the woman's face, who grinned as if she knew how good she looked. Little did the woman know she could have Trey. Mallory didn't want him, so Vanessa could stop preening.

  Mallory knew she'd never win a girl battle. Instead, she reveled in the fact that she could kick some serious Mafia princess butt.

  A door opened and Paul Stanley walked in. He looked more handsome now that he didn't leer at Mallory. He approached them with a smile on his face that must have gotten lost on the way to his eyes.

  He kissed Mallory's hand before shaking Trey's.

  "Somehow we missed meeting the other night," Stanley said. "I apologize. Your wife and I had a lovely conversation."