Blonde Demolition Read online

"No, but as long as they don't run the ride they'll be fine."

  She slid out also. Someone approached them, gun in hand.

  "I have a bad feeling about this," Mallory said. "Too many people. Couldn't have been just from a security guard finding us. Someone tipped them off."

  "Maybe the same someone who tipped us off," Trey said.

  "On the ground, face down. Hands above your head."

  They did as they were told. The disembodied voice handcuffed them and then yanked Mallory to her feet. She stumbled when the man pushed her forward. "Be nice," she mumbled.

  He pulled her close to his face, his warm cigarette breath wafted into her nose. "Like you were going to be to those kids who would have blown up?"

  "I was defusing the bomb. Check my tools. I've already—"

  "Shut up. We got a tip you'd be here."

  "Yeah? And we got a tip there was a bomb here. Someone is playing all of us for fools," she said.

  He didn't respond, just pulled her along, then jammed her into a car. Trey landed beside her. Someone opened the driver's door.

  There were shouts.

  "Hold on," the man said from the front seat.

  "What the hell's going on, Greg," Trey said.

  "Just hold on."

  The tires squealed as the car lurched backwards. The car spun, throwing Mallory against Trey. His hands were behind his back so he put a leg over her.

  She leaned into him so they would hold each other stable. She felt his warmth infuse into her. His familiar scent put her hormones on overdrive. She was still not willing to admit to being attracted to Trey.

  The pair shifted as one across the seat as Greg Villa turned the car the other way.

  Trey murmured in her ear. "This is my boss, Greg Villa. You spoke to him on the phone."

  "Right."

  She would worry about formal introductions when they were all going a slower rate of speed.

  "We've almost lost them," Greg said. "I'll take you guys to a safe house."

  Mallory's stomach rocked back and forth with each turn and she just wanted to be still. It didn't matter where.

  "You don't think there will be an APB out on us?" Mallory asked when the car straightened for a stretch.

  She shifted away from Trey.

  "Don't go," he whispered.

  She jammed herself against the opposite door and glared at him in the dark.

  "You forget my night vision is impeccable."

  She grimaced at him. "Good."

  Greg finally spoke. "No, those weren't the police."

  A chill ran through her veins. They'd been set up. "It looked like a real bomb. I sensed it."

  Greg chuckled. "Oh, it was a real bomb. If you'd been blown up, all the better for them. We'll talk more when we get to the house."

  "Did you call a bomb squad?" Mallory asked.

  "On its way."

  He turned up a dirt road and slowed the car. They climbed a few small hills before a house appeared in a clearing. A bevy of spotlights lit when they approached. Greg stopped the car. He opened both doors and unlocked their handcuffs. Mallory rubbed her wrists.

  "Greg Villa."

  She shook his hand. "Mallory Sage."

  "Your reputation precedes you."

  She glanced over the car at Trey, who shrugged. He wasn't innocent in all that, but she had never expected him to gossip about her. "Okay."

  Greg moved to the front door.

  Mallory held back waiting for Trey. "What did you tell him?"

  "Nothing but the truth, honey."

  "I think he may be expecting someone larger than life. He'll be disappointed."

  "Oh, Mal, you are larger than life."

  He brushed a hair out of her face. She flinched. She didn't want him to be tender or even likable. This job would be hard enough and made worse if she had raging hormones to keep in check.

  "We'd better get inside," she said. "We probably have a lot of ground to cover."

  Mallory had disappeared.

  Booth had looked all over the firehouse. No one had seen her. She didn't answer her home phone or her cell phone. He hadn't left any messages. He should have. She would have expected that of him.

  He sat in his ratty recliner, his hands shaking. He'd never had a job tank. Rubbing his hands on the arms of the chair, he reviewed his options. He hadn't put a tracking device on her car.

  First mistake. Who knew her old partner would whisk her away?

  Could his contact in DHS help? He shook his head. Then he'd have to admit he lost her.

  No, that won't work.

  His hands continued to shake. Worse than usual. As much as he wanted to convince himself, he knew the truth. The truth about the job. The truth about why he shook.

  His hands weren't shaking from adrenaline.

  The inside of the house was early flea market. Nothing matched and everything worked. At least nothing was ripped or stained. The loveseat was upholstered with a brown and yellow plaid material that should have been banned in the seventies.

  "Charming." Trey nudged Mallory farther into the room.

  "At least no one is arresting us for crimes we didn't commit," she said.

  She felt a little naked without a purse or her car. She sat and folded her hands on her lap. Trey stood beside her chair, his arms crossed. Greg turned on more lights.

  "I think we can see just fine. Get to the point," Trey said.

  The anger in his voice was restrained. Mallory wasn't in her best mood either. "What's going on?"

  Greg sat across from them in a light-blue velvet wing chair. "Those weren't cops."

  Mallory glanced at Trey and then back to Greg. "We got that. Who were they?"

  "My guess is whoever tipped us off, gathered that army and convinced the fire company to help had something to do with Paul Stanley."

  "That's not a big leap. Why?" Trey settled himself on the arm of the loveseat where Mallory sat. She shifted away from him, reluctant to make contact.

  "You got too close. Maybe they figured we know exactly what's going on," Greg said.

  Mallory's gaze ping-ponged from Greg to Trey. "We don't?"

  "A lot of what we think we know can't be confirmed."

  Mallory stood, moving away from them. She had to clear her head. "I only came back because I was under the impression you all knew the deal. I've signed on for this one gig. Nothing more and frankly if this operation isn't as advanced as I thought, maybe I shouldn't be here."

  "You're in now. I'm sure Stanley watched from somewhere. He knows your face. You aren't safe," Greg said.

  "And neither is anyone you're with," Trey added.

  Jesse. She had to protect him.

  She frowned. "So I'm stuck. Where do we go from here?"

  Greg rose. "Right now, things are hot. You're going to have to lay low for awhile."

  Lay low? I can't sit still, not take action. This guy has no idea what he's asking of me.

  "For how long?"

  "At least a week."

  Her mouth dropped open. "A week? I have a fair to run."

  Trey put a hand on her arm as if to stop her.

  "No, Trey, he can hear what I have to say."

  "Mallory, don't."

  The steel in his look made his point.

  "Fine. I'm using the bathroom." She stalked out.

  When Mallory returned, Trey sat alone on the loveseat. He patted the spot next to him.

  She shook her head, then settled on the chair Greg had occupied. "What?"

  "He's lying."

  "Greg? Your boss?"

  "Something about this doesn't sit right. I've had operations go screwy, but never had anyone step in while it was happening. I don't know how he could have found out."

  "You don't trust your boss?"

  "I don't think he's doing anything bad, but he's definitely not going by the book. He didn't leave us with weapons."

  Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the room. "Maybe there are some around here and he forgot to tell
us."

  "Possible, but doubtful. I've checked the drawers in here and there's nothing," Trey said.

  A thought niggled at the edges of her mind. Trey was right. Something else was wrong too—Greg telling them to stay there. "Well, I'm not sitting here for a week."

  "Me neither. We'll have to start out tonight when it's dark."

  "Do you know where we are?" she asked.

  "Sourland Mountains. A hundred years ago, this place was a summer home. The town isn't as far as you might think but it'll be pitch black."

  The idea did not sit well with her.

  I'll have to trust him. He's my only choice. My only hope. "Fine. Let's do it."

  "There's some trail mix and I found a backpack. I'll carry it."

  "I can take a shift."

  Trey frowned. "You're out of practice. Just let me do this and don't argue."

  She didn't have the strength. The idea that more than one person had double-crossed them weighed on her. Two days ago, her life had been simple. She hadn't viewed it that way at the time, but all the details for the fair seemed easy to sort out at this point.

  No one chased her. No one arrested her.

  "We'll give Greg a few minutes just in case he expects us to bolt."

  "Good point."

  She sat with one leg under her, while her other foot tapped the coffee table. The seconds passed like minutes. Trey reached across and grabbed her foot. "Stop."

  "Sorry." She tucked both feet under her.

  Under the best of circumstance, she wasn't patient. "Too bad there's no TV. We could lose ourselves in something mindless."

  His smile became predatory. "We could do that."

  He strolled to her until she raised her hand. "You stay over there."

  He stepped closer, his smile not dimmed. "Afraid you can't resist my charms?"

  "Stay over there."

  She didn't want to tempt fate. She wasn't sure how good her resistance would be. Especially since she was out of her element—or at least out of the life she'd chosen and back into the life she'd left behind.

  Trey chuckled, a sound that rumbled from the depths of his toned body. "Chicken."

  "No, I'm not."

  "Has Jesse asked you to marry him?"

  She shrugged. Jesse had asked her a thousand times, but she wasn't about to share that with Trey.

  "I don't see a ring," he went on.

  She ignored him and his line of questioning. "None of that is your business."

  Trey sat on the coffee table right in front of her. Close enough for her to breathe in his scent.

  "And how long do you think a guy like Jesse will wait around for you?"

  "I'm doing this assignment and then I'm done."

  "You don't think that once you get another taste of this life that you won't want to come back? Think of the adventure. The intrigue. The doing something for the greater good."

  "You forgot people shooting at us. The great hours and being stuck in the middle of nowhere with you."

  "I'm not so bad. At least at one time, you thought I was okay. We used to spend a lot of time together."

  "Used to. Past Trey and it's going to stay there."

  "You think? You think I'm going to let you go this time? Without an explanation?"

  That thought scared her more than bombs or terrorists. What if he wants to know why I left? Not the stock answer she and the organization had come up with. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

  "You'll just have to live with the way things turned out," she said.

  His gaze locked hers in a vise. He reached out, brushed away a hair from her face.

  Part of her longed to lean into his hand, to feel his warmth and draw from it.

  The rational part knew just how much of a mistake that would be. "No."

  Trey pulled away his hand, though she knew he wasn't done.

  "You don't see this as a second chance for us?"

  "No, I see it as unfinished business with a terrorist we failed to put in jail. That's it, Trey."

  "Your eyes say something different."

  "Does that line work on many women?"

  His smile saddened. "I only need it to work on one."

  CHAPTER 11

  Booth stood in his backyard, which sat away from his neighbors. He was out in the country and no one would think twice about a gunshot. Tin cans lined the top of a log. The gun threatened to slip out of his sweat-slicked hand.

  He hadn't pulled the trigger yet.

  He remembered why he had gotten out of the business. He wanted to laugh. Like a gun dog gone soft, he couldn't pull the trigger. He didn't have the heart for it.

  More like, he didn't have the balls for it.

  The last person he killed had stared at him. That face haunted his dreams. His hand shook. He looked down on it like a child that had disappointed him.

  "Damn." He'd have to think of another way to kill Mallory.

  Going through the woods was rocky and downhill. Her eyes were as wide as they could be, still she could not see a thing. The night was like ganache. No animals scurried past. It was as if the forest held its breath.

  She clung to Trey as her lifeline, gripping his hand until her fingers ached. After a few minutes, the act seemed natural. She'd depended on Trey in far more threatening situations.

  Trey broke the silence. "Now might be a good time to cover some lost ground." His voice floated darkly and seductively.

  Leave it to Trey to bring things up when she had no choice but to listen.

  "What ground?" she said.

  "About us."

  "Trey, there is no us.'"

  "There was."

  "But there isn't now. Aren't you the one who doesn't like to backtrack? Look ahead, not behind. Isn't that what you always said?"

  "Really nice to have my words thrown at me."

  She stumbled and his grip tightened. "You brought up this subject."

  "I just want to know why you left."

  The question stopped her. He tugged her to keep going.

  She sighed. "It felt like the right thing to do."

  His chuckle rippled through her, putting her off balance. He was dead serious and yet he could laugh.

  A study in contrasts. That trait of his had seemed fun and sexy in the beginning. Maybe even a little dangerous. In the end he'd kept her off balance. With nothing to lean on, she'd collapsed.

  Then she'd left.

  "You go through life with hunches and feelings and never really make a decision."

  Her breath stopped. Leave it to Trey to have a laser sight into her psyche.

  "It's kept you alive. Those are well-honed instincts. But in other areas of life, you need something more substantial."

  "Why? I've done just fine so far."

  He stopped and she ran into him. "Do you really want to do just fine your whole life?"

  She stared at what she thought was his face. "Wait a minute. If I said there was a bomb in these woods, you'd believe me. No questions asked."

  "Yes."

  "So why can't you believe that I can do the same thing with the rest of my life? Know when to stay. Know when to go. Know who I should be with."

  "Because you leave everything to chance. You don't make decisions about what you really want. You play it safe."

  "Maybe what I want is to be safe."

  He kept walking. "But is that living?"

  The woods opened onto a parking lot and now she could see the glow from the nearby town. Mallory let go of Trey's hand and stopped to rein in her anger. "You're not perfect either."

  "I never said I was."

  "No, you didn't. But you never believe that you're wrong."

  He sighed. "We need to get to a phone."

  She stormed past him. The subject was closed until Trey decided it was open again.

  "You have a plan?" he asked.

  "To find a phone and call Jesse."

  "Bad choice. Don't get him involved."

  She faced him. "Why? So you don't h
ave competition?"

  "Mal."

  She scowled. "Trey, just walk."

  Trey's thoughts bounced around his head. Based on her reaction, he'd touched a sore spot. That made him even more curious about why she left.

  But now they had a bigger problem. The nearest phone was a mile away.

  They walked in blessed silence until they reached a gas station.

  "I have someone I can call," Trey said.

  "Yeah?"

  He'd forgotten how stubborn she could be. He dialed the phone and kept an eye on her.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted something that made him cringe.

  "Hide," he said.

  She ran behind the gas station.

  A cop car pulled up and parked next to him. The window rolled down. "You need some help?"

  Trey chuckled. "No, Officer. Had a fight with my wife and decided to walk it off. I walked a little farther than I thought and I don't want to walk back."

  "You think she'll come get you?"

  "Oh, she's probably worried about me by now."

  The cop gave him a knowing smile. "Want me to wait until you connect?"

  "No, thanks. I know she's home."

  The cop nodded and drove away back in the direction of town.

  The phone rang on the other end as Mallory came out of hiding.

  A half-asleep voice answered.

  "Sherry?"

  "Trey?"

  "Sherry, I need your help."

  "What else is new?" She sounded more awake now. "What can I do?"

  "We're at a gas station in Biggin Hill, I think."

  "There are about six gas stations in Biggin Hill."

  "This one's a mom and pop on a back road," he said.

  "Oh, I know it. I'll be there."

  She hung up and so did Trey.

  "Sherry?" Mallory asked.

  "Old friend."

  "I bet."

  "She's all we have at this point. Besides, she's a former narcotics detective from Jersey City. Can't trust the organization."

  "Never thought I'd hear you say that." Bitterness tinged her voice.

  He tried to impale her with his gaze. It was better than shaking her, which was what he wanted to do. "You have to tell me what happened. Why'd you just up and quit doing what you were good at?"

  She shook her head, her hair taking on a strange glow under the light. "Never mind."