Blonde Demolition Page 6

  She noticed Trey watching them as Jesse drove out of the parking lot.

  CHAPTER 9

  "So who's that guy?" Jesse asked. He lay on her bed with just his pants on.

  They'd made love like demons. Guilt washed over her.

  Jesse had known the rules. She wouldn't settle down. Maybe he deserved some honesty. She'd always been that with him. Aside from her past, that is.

  Because she'd taken an oath. And she didn't go back on those.

  She looked away from Jesse. "Oh, you mean Trey?"

  "Don't be coy with me."

  She brushed her wet hair into a ponytail. At least she was dressed. Maybe she didn't have to tell him. Maybe Trey would go away and her life would be normal. "I thought you weren't the jealous type."

  "Not jealous. Just want to know if he's competition."

  Mallory laughed as she turned to face him. "No, I'd like Trey to leave as soon as he can."

  "Were you lovers?"

  "Yes. In a past life."

  Jesse nodded. "The life you keep secret. You in the mob?"

  "Do I look Italian?"

  He shrugged. "Anything is possible."

  She sat on the edge of the bed. "I'll tell you everything as soon as I can."

  "Promise?"

  She would put off telling him as long as possible. "Promise."

  With the fair closed, Cal drove home. He lived in one of the many townhomes in the former farm community.

  The phone seemed to eye him when he put his keys on the kitchen table. He imagined that it pulsed with anticipation for the call he wanted to—no—had to make. He remembered Marsha's mother's name, so he dialed directory assistance. Staring at the phone number he wrote down, he wet his lips. "This is nutty."

  I have to know. Marsha was the most obvious to have had a baby.

  He dialed. Each ring pushed up his blood pressure. He settled on a creaky kitchen chair. He hung up before anyone answered.

  He'd faced a lot of bad guys in his day, but it hadn't prepared him for facing something from his past. Did I make a mistake not tracking Marsha down? Maybe there was more to her 'Dear John' letter?

  He gripped the receiver, dialed again.

  On the third ring this time, a woman answered. "Hello."

  Cal's mouth went dry. His lips moved. No words came out.

  "Hello?" the woman repeated.

  "Mrs. Tanner?"

  "Yes, who is this?"

  "Uh, Cal Stedman."

  Silence as the woman drew in a long breath. "Well, aren't you a blast from the past."

  Cal relaxed. She didn't hang up on him.

  "You remember me?"

  "Yes, I do."

  Cal shifted on the chair. His legs were tired. His heart beat rapidly. "Is that good or bad?"

  "It is what it is."

  "What's your role in all this?"

  The bomb squad detectives had cornered Trey and now he sat in the firehouse office.

  They asked the questions. He gave them a phone number. They refused to call. He refused to talk.

  They'd been at the same standstill for half an hour. He itched to leave and make a report. No way would he blow his cover for these guys until his boss said he could. The operation was too important. Too big if they caught the big fish. "I'm not saying anything until you call that number."

  "And what if we don't call that number? How about we arrest you on suspicion?"

  "Then I'll call that number with my one phone call and they descend on your local law enforcement asses and bail me out."

  One detective left and the younger of the two remained. He sat across the desk from Trey. The young man swiveled like a child in his dad's office chair.

  Trey had no plans on making a break, nor did he relish jail. Being in the slammer wouldn't blow his cover, though, so that might be the best option.

  His thoughts turned to Mallory leaving with her lover. His eyes dropped closed. He'd messed things up with Mallory and now she had herself a normal, calm guy. One that came home every night. One that gave her affection, warmth and stability.

  The other detective came back. "You're coming with us."

  "Did you call?"

  "Yep. And I don't like the answers I'm getting."

  Trey stood. The young detective searched him and dragged him to their unmarked car.

  His head smacked on the side of the car. "No need to be so rough."

  "If you're a terrorist, we'll be even rougher."

  The man's grin would have sent a chill through a lesser man.

  At least now, he'd have time to think about how to get Mallory back into his life. And what he would do when he retired.

  Fresh out of the shower, Mallory returned to the fairgrounds with the intent of looking for Trey.

  She found out he'd been arrested.

  "I didn't trust that man, anyway," Jesse said.

  She bit her lip. Now was the time to explain to him. She should have done it at her house, where they had privacy. "Jesse, we need to talk."

  "What? The guys are grilling up burgers since they thawed them...we can't have them tonight?"

  "You can have dinner later. We need to talk."

  "Mal, I'm starving."

  "I know you are and I'm sorry, Jesse. I have to tell you something and it can't wait."

  Jesse glanced at the food tent where some firefighters had gathered, then followed her to the office. He plopped on his chair as if he'd been put on a timeout. "Speak. Before I pass out. I'm sure you're hungry too."

  "I am, but this is more important." She paced the office for a moment. Just say it, say the truth. "What I'm going to tell you has to stay between us."

  "Mal, you know I can keep a secret."

  She wasn't sure of that at all, but she wanted to trust him with her secret, with her life...just trust him. "I mean it, Jess. No telling this to your buddies when you get a few beers into you."

  "Fine, I get it."

  "I didn't work as a cop before I came here. I lied to you about that."

  "Okay, fine."

  The phone on his desk rang. "Let me get this. I'm waiting for a call from Pierce about specs for our new truck."

  She turned away as he took the call.

  "Mal."

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  "It's for you. Wouldn't give his name."

  She took the phone from him and clutched it so tightly her knuckles were white. "Hello?"

  Somehow she knew what this was about. She didn't know the name of the caller, but she knew this call would come. At least she'd made her decision.

  "Mallory Sage? This is Greg Villa. I think you've been expecting my call."

  "Yes, I have."

  "Can you talk there?"

  "Sort of. I may need to call you back." Jesse had to hear this from her lips. He needed to hear the truth about her past and that she'd been lying to him all this time.

  He stood as if she'd dismissed him. "I'm going to eat."

  She sighed when he left. "Go ahead. I'm alone."

  "I'll cut to the chase. Are you in?"

  Her heart pounded and her breath stuck in her throat. "I'm in."

  She would never forgive herself if she didn't help. She could not turn her back on her skills, her gift, as some people put it. If she could save one child, it would be worth it. What would she be giving up?

  Shrugging away that thought, she listened to her orders. The phone clicked off without a goodbye. The move didn't surprise her because her last boss had never gotten personal either—all business.

  Now to find Jesse.

  "Mal, come eat something first." Jesse filled a plate for her under the food tent.

  He was right. She would do better on a full stomach. So she sat. The talk around was of war stories from past fairs and past fires. The old-timers told the younger members they had no idea what it was like in the old days. The youngsters insisted they had it harder.

  Her thoughts turned back to her own concerns. All their words washed over her as she
thought of Trey in jail. She wasn't worried, she just felt bad. And now I'll have to bail him out.

  Emotions swirled in her mind, making her head spin. I have to get Jesse alone. When she'd devoured her food, she turned to him. "I have to go. Walk me to my car."

  They reached the parking lot. No one stirred out there. The fair workers had been released and had either gone to a bar or back to their hotel rooms.

  Jesse turned to her. "You look grim."

  "I have to go, Jesse."

  "Go where? The party's just starting."

  She shivered, despite the muggy New Jersey evening. The weatherman had predicted thunderstorms. Even a hard July rain held no guarantee of relief from the sweltering air.

  "I have to—" She stopped. Now or never. "I never finished telling you what I used to do."

  "Okay, I'm all ears." He leaned against her car.

  Judging from his posture, she didn't think he expected anything earth shattering. But her news could break his world into a million pieces. Her decision already disrupted her life. He was innocent in all this. He'd just fallen in love with the wrong person.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I worked for an organization, a secret one. It's part of Homeland Security."

  He didn't blink.

  "They want me back. I can't talk about the case."

  Jesse paced away from her. "Do you have to go far away?"

  He didn't even question that she went back. He didn't ask why or how or who as if he understood more than she said. God, I want to love him. "No, the threat is in New Jersey."

  "Is that all you can tell me?"

  "Yes."

  He turned back to her. His face grave, not angry. "Then do what you have to do."

  "That's it? No interrogation?"

  He snorted. "Would you like me to beg? That would embarrass both of us."

  "No, but—"

  "Mal, I know you well enough to know that you're going to do whatever you want to do—regardless of my opinion."

  He wasn't wrong and she hated that he knew her so well. It meant he'd been more invested in their relationship than she was.

  "I may not be here every night for the fair. I need someone to take over for me while I'm gone."

  "Oh, right. Don't worry. We can run this thing. At least we can since we got the workers back. I guess you can't tell me about that either."

  She went to him and put her hand on his face. He hadn't shaved that morning. She rubbed her fingers over the whiskers, liking the sound. "No, I can't and you have the patience of Job."

  He chuckled. "No, I just need to understand. I get it, Mal."

  His smiled, the look on his face assuring her that he understood.

  Relief washed over her.

  Hopefully her job wouldn't take too long. He kissed her and she felt his desperation.

  "Thanks, Jesse."

  He nodded and walked away, looking back over his shoulder every few feet.

  Trey stood when the guard unlocked his cage at the Centre County Jailhouse.

  "You've been released."

  Trey knew his time would come. He'd thought about nothing else, except Mallory and he had to see her, convince her they were a team.

  Not one for open displays of emotion, his jaw nearly hit the floor when he realized Mallory had come to bail him out. She didn't smile. Her features were taut.

  Her game face.

  "Thanks," he said.

  "Just doing my job."

  Putting him in his place. He almost smiled as he signed the paperwork. They walked to her car

  "Are you in?"

  She didn't bother to hide her reluctance. "I'm in."

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "You have a gift, Mal. You could save a lot of people."

  She frowned. "I know that. That isn't the part that bothers me." Her head shook as if she were unwilling to share any more with him. "We have to plan."

  "Right. My motel?"

  "As good a place as any."

  They picked up food for him on the way, then she drove in silence. He assumed she would fall into their past roles. He was wrong.

  She didn't speak until they arrived at his motel room. "Do you know where he is?"

  "Paul Stanley is a pretty slippery guy."

  Her body settled on the edge of the chair. No relaxation for Mallory. "This is me. Not a new recruit. Where is he?"

  He took a bite of his double cheeseburger. "Bernardsville. In the new house he built for his wife."

  "Same wife or did he need a new trophy?"

  "New trophy. Even younger. Younger than his youngest daughter. I would have thought this was New Jersey gossip."

  "I don't read that section of the paper." She snatched a fry from him.

  "No, I guess you wouldn't. Still read the comics?"

  Her intense gaze told him she wouldn't answer.

  "This isn't a trip down memory lane. I'm only back because this guy is still out there waiting to blow things up. And that pisses me off."

  He nodded. "I see." No sentiment in her. A sharp pain stabbed his heart. He embraced it, absorbed its strength. I'll have time to work on her. Maybe not as much as I'd like. "I agree this is unfinished business. I'll always regret not picking him off when I had a chance."

  An eyebrow went up. "You? Regret?"

  His sardonic laugh surprised even himself. "You'd be amazed at what I regret."

  She shook her head. "I would because you don't regret. You only look forward. You have to look back to regret."

  "I'm older now."

  "Only by five years." She snagged another fry.

  "Five years is a long time depending on what you're doing."

  "I've enjoyed my five years. Relatively stress free. No one expected me to have all the answers. No one expected me to save the world. No one lied to me."

  "Hmm. No one lied to me either."

  "You just haven't caught them in a lie. Or don't you count what our boss did?"

  So she's still bothered by that deception. "He was a God and Country kind of guy."

  "What God and what country condone sending someone to her possible death?"

  "We send people to war all the time." He'd finished his sandwich before working on the fries and soda. Neither sat in his stomach well.

  "They choose to join the military. I had no choice."

  She stood. "Let's not go there, okay? Let's concentrate on the task at hand, so I can get back to the life that I'm putting on hold."

  "Now who isn't looking back?"

  She raised a hand to him. "Nothing has changed. Now where can we find Paul Stanley?"

  Nothing's changed...except everything, Mal.

  CHAPTER 10

  An hour later in North Jersey, Mallory and Trey walked into a fair similar to hers. An anonymous tip had come in. They went to investigate. This was also a Marvelous Midways venture and Mallory knew it was no coincidence.

  The clown on top of the fun house sat silent. In the light of the moon, his smile became macabre instead of friendly.

  A thought occurred to her. "Does Bud Cone truly own this company?"

  "He does, but there's a silent partner we're trying to track down. He had a rough time about eight years ago and found an investor."

  "Would it would be too much to hope that investor was Paul Stanley?"

  Trey shook his head. His loose, long hair rustled against his basketball jersey. "If he is, he's hidden himself well."

  "Must have been an afterthought. Maybe his investment initially had nothing to do with his current plans."

  "Possible, but you and I know he calculates every move before he does it."

  "True." That much she knew for sure about her quarry. Like a master chess player. "Now shush so I can find this bomb before the storm hits."

  "A little rain never hurt anyone."

  "Yes, but lightning does."

  His chuckle came to her on the breeze that had just kicked up. The sky rumbled in the distance. The noise could be an idle threat. St
ill, the humidity hung thick in the air and she treaded through it with her mind clear.

  She stopped by the carousel. Too obvious. They wouldn't place it there again? She circled it, but received no vibe. No scent of honeysuckle, that strange phenomenon that signaled her that there was a bomb.

  "You need someone telling you whether you are warmer or colder," Trey said.

  "Yeah, but the only guy who knows is long gone."

  She passed the Tilt-A-Whirl and the fun house. Her feet stopped by the dragon ride. Five or six kids could ride in a circle in each dragon. The screams of joy hung in the night air as if they'd just happened.

  She had to concentrate. She moved closer to the engine. "Here. I need my tools."

  The bomb wasn't in the engine. She and Trey searched under each car until she saw it at the last one. It had more wires than she'd ever seen.

  "Damn." She crawled underneath, while Trey lay down beside her holding the flashlight.

  "It would have blown when the car had some weight in it. Maybe not the first run, but when more kids finished eating and wanted to ride."

  "Bastard," Trey said in her ear.

  "You remember what a hammer is?"

  Trey didn't chuckle. He didn't answer either.

  She took the wire cutters he gave her, not wondering about his silence. She was in the zone. The whole bomb made sense and she clipped wires like cutting threads off an unraveling T-shirt.

  "Freeze."

  The voice came from above and behind them. Floodlights from the fire trucks turned on like a million flashlights.

  "Thought this place had no security?" Mallory asked from between clenched teeth. "Nice reconnaissance."

  "They haven't the last three nights. One of our agents drove by."

  "The agent is either incompetent or lied."

  "Come out slowly with your hands up."

  Mallory squinted at the bright lights, deciding what to do. As far as she could tell, the bomb didn't have a remote or a timer so there would be no harm unless the ride had riders. She could leave it for now in hopes that a bomb squad could defuse it.

  Trey slid out from under the dragon, his hands in the air. "Did you finish?"