Protected by a Dangerous Man Read online

  Corbin was adding coffee grounds to his coffeepot, which sat on the stove. He owned a machine that brewed the espresso from colorful capsules, but he seemed to prefer this way, the old-fashioned way.

  He glanced at me. “If you’re hungry, I can whip up an omelet.”

  “I’m thinking I’ll go back to bed,” I said.

  “That’s probably a good idea. No need for you to sit through this.”

  I wrapped my arms around his torso and laid my cheek on his back.

  His masculine scent made my heart beat faster, but it was also comforting and familiar. I stood there longer than I’d intended, just enjoying his warmth and strength.

  When I released him, he turned and pulled me into his chest. A long breath sighed out from deep inside me. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  “Wake me if there are any developments,” I said. I caught a glimpse of the time display on one of the ovens. Barely three in the morning. If I wanted to be fresh to deal with Neil’s bullshit, then going back to bed was probably a wise decision anyway.

  Not that I expected I’d be able to sleep very well.

  “I’m sorry about all the stress,” Corbin said.

  “It’s hardly your fault.” I licked my lips. “Are you going to have to leave town again because of this?”

  “God, I hope not, but I don’t know.” He sighed. “Probably.” His coffeepot began to bubble, and he turned off the stove.

  I started to leave, but Corbin pulled me back. He tilted my chin up and pressed a scorching kiss to my mouth. When he released me, I swayed a little, dazed.

  “Sweet dreams, baby.”

  In the bedroom, I closed the door, not taking care to be quiet. I wanted Corbin to know he had complete privacy.

  And… I felt… not good, but better as I got into bed. The secrecy with his office was going to send me to the loony bin, but tonight it was right to give him space to deal with things.

  I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake, that he hadn’t really wanted me to stay with him. But that wasn’t the impression I’d gotten.

  Corbin was a loner.

  He didn’t have a lot of friends, and we never entertained. Being an undercover assassin had probably put a crimp in his social life. Still, he’d been out of the business for months before this mess with his ex had started up, and he hadn’t shown the slightest interest in socializing.

  I kicked the clothing I’d picked earlier over to Corbin’s side of the bed. That was lazy, but he wouldn’t be back in the room anytime soon.

  I should have brought my phone, I thought. Rob would have given me updates. But then my twin would have wondered why I was asking, and I didn’t want to get into it. Not now. There would be plenty of time later on to humiliate myself by admitting how scared I was of losing Corbin.

  In any event, however things turned out, I’d know soon enough.

  Then I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what was happening on the other side of the world or what Corbin was thinking.

  Chapter 7

  At just after eleven in the morning, I set out for our temporary office, which wasn’t far from Corbin’s condo.

  Of course, that wasn’t a coincidence. As our landlord, Corbin had included a clause in the lease stating that he was responsible for providing accommodations during any renovations or building repairs.

  If I’d known he’d stuck that in there, I would have insisted he take it out. But Dad had been the one to sign the lease. Heaven knew what other goodies Corbin had snuck in.

  The temporary offices were at the edge of the downtown area. Stroop Finders had the entire second floor of a good-sized building. All our furniture, files, and computers had been moved over and reassembled. During the relocation, Rob and I were in LA, investigating JD’s murder, but I’d been happy to learn that I’d gotten my own office, as had Rob and our dad.

  The large parking lot was full of familiar cars. Funny how having a bright, modern workplace made employees want to come in and use their desks, though every day there were fewer cars than the day before.

  Erin, our pixyish receptionist, greeted me with a wide smile when I walked through the door.

  “You have mail,” she said. Her desk was covered with stacks that she’d sorted.

  My pile was one of the smaller ones, but I tried not to take it personally. “This all came today?”

  Erin shrugged. That was fine; I didn’t really care.

  Rob joined me as I walked past his office on the way to mine, which was at the end of the hallway. “I went by the post office and picked it up,” he said. “They’re holding our stuff until the renovations are finished. Dad thought it would be easier than forwarding it and risking letters getting lost.”

  “Is Dad here?” I hadn’t noticed his sedan in the parking lot, but I hadn’t been looking for it, either.

  “You missed him by thirty minutes.”

  I winced. “Did he say anything?”

  “Nope.” Rob grinned. “And you can thank me for that. When he came in, I made sure your door was closed. He was only here for about an hour, making calls and pretending to look busy. Mentally, he’s already on his next cruise.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  Rob looked confused. “Since eight.”

  “The keys,” I said, groaning. “I’m so sorry.” The temporary offices were a bit of a drive for Erin, so we let her arrive at nine instead of eight. Therefore Rob and I were supposed to take turns opening up.

  “It’s not a problem,” Rob insisted. “I figured you’d have other things on your mind. Little did I know that absolutely nothing would happen. Have there been any developments since?”

  I shook my head. When I’d left home, Corbin had still been on the sofa, staring at the video that might as well have been a static picture. “Actually, I missed all the non-excitement. I went back to bed.”

  Rob looked at me as if I were nuts. “Why?”

  And… now I had to either lie to him or give him embarrassing details about my troubles with Corbin.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly.

  Change the subject. “You’ll be happy to know that I finished going through JD’s business card collection this morning.”

  “Really?”

  “Corbin helped,” I admitted. When I’d gotten up, he’d made me breakfast. We ate in front of the TV, watching the feed. Even though it could have been exciting, it wasn’t. Really, how many hours of staring at nothing, listening to mostly nothing, could a person handle? Corbin had asked if I’d been able to eliminate any of the other people who’d had business cards in the stash I’d taken from JD’s apartment, and the next thing I knew, we were going through them together.

  Rob followed me to my office.

  It was boxy, and most of the windows overlooked the neighboring building, a dentist’s office. Still, it was better than being in an open floor plan with a zillion other people, some of whom had difficulty with the concept of regular showers. With a little attention, it could have been nice, but we’d be back in our own office within a few weeks so I didn’t see the point in getting cozy.

  Rob cleared his throat loudly.

  I dropped the mail onto the desk and turned to face him. “Can I help you?”

  “Um… Did you find anything? In the business cards.”

  I gave Rob the disapproving look he deserved. “Obviously I would have said so if I had.”

  “Every single one of those people has an alibi for the morning of the murder?” Rob asked. “Really?”

  “Some people collect matchboxes, and others collect business cards. Neil says it’s something JD did.”

  “Alibis or no?”

  I scowled. “Some of the cards didn’t even have the name of a person. Many of them were just pointless. He had a card for his sister’s yarn and knitting shop. And for her husband’s paper products company. Other cards were a decade old. I mean, two places went out of business ages ago.”

  Rob crossed his arms and leane
d against my doorway.

  I gestured at one of the two chairs facing my desk. Raising my arm hurt a little, but I was already less sore than when I’d gotten up. “You might as well have a seat.”

  “And here I thought you’d never ask.” He crossed the room with long strides and plopped onto a chair with a grunt. One day he was going to do that and it would collapse.

  “What was Jennifer doing at your place last night?” I asked. “The truth.”

  “Business first,” Rob said.

  “Try to distract me all you want, but I’m not going to forget,” I said as I settled into my executive chair, which creaked in a most satisfying way. I felt like I should be plotting a corporate takeover or something, and I was tempted to steeple my fingers. “Fine. Business first. What’d I miss this morning?”

  He waved his hand. “Nothing. What about the painting?”

  Crap. The painting, a nude of JD with a cock-print—what else to call it when someone dipped a cock in paint and pressed it against a canvas?—in lieu of an artist’s rendition of a cock. The painting was titled The Best of Us Both. In other words, a naked JD but with his lover’s cock-print. It was the closest to physical evidence that we had.

  I was supposed to have put it up for sale so we could entrap Congressman Bowlst—or whoever had gone through JD’s storage space looking for it. But legally, I needed the permission of JD’s sister.

  “I forgot to call Sara,” I confessed.

  “Where is it?”

  “In the back of one of Corbin’s closets. Look, using it as bait was a stupid idea—”

  “Your stupid idea,” Rob agreed. “But I can’t think of anything better.”

  “I’ll do it tonight.”

  “If you don’t, you’ll have to open the office for the next week. What about Massimo?”

  “Corbin’s taking us to see him,” I said.

  Rob snapped his fingers rapidly. “Audrey, try to keep up. I know that. We texted about it this morning. But I think we need to strategize how to best confront him. What questions we’ll ask.”

  “What questions I’ll ask,” I corrected.

  “No offense, sis, but he’s been giving you the runaround since day one. Maybe I should take point on this.”

  “Why?” I found myself getting irritated. “You’ve never even met him.”

  “Fresh eyes,” he said, tapping his temple. “Fresh meat.” He splayed his fingers and ran them down his torso while wiggling his eyebrows so hard I thought they might ping off his face.

  “You think that just because Massimo is gay, he’ll be more likely to talk to you? That’s sexist. And stop rubbing your chest. You look like you have scabies.”

  He stopped. “That would explain why I’ve been so itchy since we got back from LA,” he said, a nod to the fleabag motel we’d stayed in.

  “Any other questions? Because in case you didn’t notice, I got a late start today.”

  “So grumpy,” Rob said. “And at the risk of making you even grumpier, let me point out that when we need to squeeze information from a hetero guy between the ages of sixteen and ninety, you tend to talk to them.”

  I skewered him with a glare. “So what? Massimo and I have a relationship. He trusts me. The thing about Massimo is that he’s… touchy feely. He thinks it’s fate that we were on the same plane. He’ll be more likely to talk to me.”

  “Fine,” Rob said. “We’ll question him together.” He bounced lightly to his feet. “Pleasure talking business with you, sis. Good compromise.”

  “Questioning him together is not a compromise,” I said. But I was a moment too late; Rob had left my office.

  He hadn’t bothered closing the door behind him, so I heaved to my feet and crossed the room to do it. On the way back to my desk, I stopped at the sofa that someone had provided. It was large, comfortable, and new. Rob didn’t have a sofa, and neither did our father, so I figured it had been Corbin’s doing.

  That sofa looked like a mighty good place to take a nap, and heaven knew I was tired. In all, I’d only slept a handful of hours.

  Plus I’d been working from home in the morning, right? A quick nap wasn’t a crime…

  But there was too much to do. Rob was right; I needed to devise a list of questions that would get Massimo to spit out the truth. From overhearing Neil’s side of the conversation, I had the impression that the secret was something Neil wanted to keep quiet more than Massimo did.

  Massimo was a nice guy, and extraordinarily attractive, but he wasn’t going to be winning a genius grant anytime soon. Neil… He was intelligent.

  Conniving, too. He’d proven as much on the day he’d limped into Stroop Finders and convinced my dad, who was dead set against letting me do PI work in the first place, that we should take Massimo’s case.

  Perhaps I could use that against Neil. The problem with clever people was that they sometimes underestimated others. Neil had no idea that we’d overheard his conversation, so maybe I could get him to inadvertently let something drop.

  I smiled as I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on the sofa. It had just the right firmness, and it cradled me perfectly.

  Neil… If he thought Massimo was telling us what happened, he might talk, too. He’d want to get ahead of the story.

  As I drifted off, I realized I’d forgotten to ask Rob again about Jennifer.

  Chapter 8

  Thirty minutes later, I woke up feeling refreshed. Optimistic, too, which was enough to make me feel pessimistic. Nothing ever went according to plan.

  After making Rob swear not to question Massimo without me, I sent him to meet with Corbin. My scheme was simple: give Neil the impression that Massimo had talked.

  In the meantime, I headed alone to Neil’s condo to pick him up.

  I hadn’t seen Neil since the night we’d gotten word that Massimo wasn’t supposed to survive being captured in Europe. From what I understood, Neil was relying heavily on sleeping pills to keep himself calm. Even after Massimo had been safely captured by some of Corbin’s allies, Neil hadn’t been able to relax.

  If I’d been in his situation, watching all these events unfold from a distance, I would have been freaking out, too.

  Neil was waiting outside his building. He looked to be in much better shape than I’d expected. Some of the weight he’d shed immediately after the stabbing had returned, giving his cheeks a healthy fullness. When he walked up to my car, I noticed his limp had disappeared.

  “Hi,” I said as he got in.

  A knit cap covered his hair and part of his forehead. It was to hide some of the scars, I knew, but plenty of them were still visible, though the angry redness was fading nicely. He’d gone a little heavy on the cologne, and I wondered if his sense of smell had gotten damaged in the attack.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked.

  “Oh lord,” he said. “I must have changed my outfit eight times. Do I need a haircut?”

  I took my eyes off the road long enough to sweep a cursory glance over Neil, who had pulled off his cap.

  It was true that his hair, which had been short and professional, if not quite conservative, during the time I’d investigated Massimo at Frances’s behest, was now a bit long, the sides covering the tops of his ears. “No, you’re good for a few more days,” I said.

  “You’re an awful liar,” he said cheerily. “Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  “I’ve been told I suck at giving compliments. That’s probably what you’re picking up on.”

  Neil laughed good-naturedly, and I smiled, too. The truth was that I was an abysmal liar, and I’d been told this plenty of times. For my family and friends, it wasn’t even worth trying to fib—I was better off evading.

  “I’m nervous,” he said. He flicked the hair above his forehead with two fingers. “At least this covers some of the scars. Now I just have to grow a full suit of body hair and no one will ever know.” Even though he was characteristically light, a dark hue shaded his tone.

  “Mayb
e you should let the scars show. If Massimo did this, he might have some sort of reaction.”

  “Massimo didn’t do this.”

  “You sound so certain,” I said, stealing another glance at him. This wasn’t a conversation to have while driving. “Do you remember anything about that morning?”

  “No.”

  Liar. I almost said it aloud. “Then how can you know?”

  “I just do,” he said. “I mean, I have an impression of that day, and when I think of Massimo, I don’t have the feeling he was there.” His voice was getting tense. “It makes no sense, but my doctor says that’s normal and even healthy. He says I’ll probably never remember.”

  “Your brain’s way of protecting you from the trauma,” I said. I decided to drop the line of questioning. Neil was too fragile, and anyway I wanted to watch his reactions. “Any progress with your grandmother?”

  “Yes, actually,” Neil said. “We’re going to have brunch on Sunday.”

  “That’s great.” Well, it was great if he was telling the truth. “And you’ll ask her to lay off Stroop Finders?”

  He didn’t answer. When I glanced at him, his arms were crossed.

  “Neil…”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said.

  Even though the situation between the sheriff’s department and Stroop Finders was approaching dire, I hadn’t pressured Neil enough. All those sleeping pills he was taking… Now, though, he was lucid, and I wasn’t having better results.

  It made me think that he’d been intentionally giving me the runaround before, and I felt my muscles beginning to tense.

  As much as I wanted to curse him out, it would have to wait until after the reunion with Massimo. I wanted Neil as cooperative as possible going into this.

  I pulled into a gas station parking lot and stopped next to Rob’s car.

  “What are we doing?” Neil asked, leaning forward and squinting at the modern convenience store. “Don’t tell me Massimo’s living in a bunker behind the refrigerated section.”

  “No. We’re…” I trailed off as Corbin’s SUV appeared in my rear view mirror. “Here’s our ride. You and I will have to be blindfolded. For Massimo’s safety.” I coated my lips with strawberry lip balm.