a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) (29 page)

“Bet he told you to watch me.”

Officer Cavanaugh stepped back and assumed a wide stance, hands resting on his belt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Merlin licked my chin, his little body quivering with pent-up energy. I rolled him on his back and rubbed his belly—thought it might calm him down some. Didn’t do much for him, but my heart stopped racing, and the tension in my chest eased. All that happy puppy energy gave me something to focus on besides Adam’s temper.

His Crown Vic spewed gravel as he pulled into Marcy’s driveway. He shot me a glare as he jogged up the front steps to meet the detective who’d just stepped out of Marcy’s house.

My fingers curved around the door handle, but Officer Cavanaugh shook his head. Damn. I could have attempted an escape, but getting out of the car held repercussions I probably wasn’t ready for. Marcy could show up any minute, and facing her tonight—not a happy thought. ’Course she could be in the house, injured or dead. I shook my head. Nope. The paramedics or coroner would have showed up by now.

Not more than thirty seconds passed before Adam strode toward my car, his expression grim. I sucked in a deep breath to prep for the onslaught of his temper.

Officer Cavanaugh kept his eye on Adam, backpedaled in double time when he got a tight nod in response.

The car door flew open. “Out,” Adam barked.

I didn’t even think about it, just grabbed Merlin and stepped onto the pavement.

“What the hell?” He pointed at the mop of gray fur in my arms.

“Merlin,” I explained, rubbing the little guy’s head, then chanced a glance at Adam’s face. Still grim. Adam doing grim was not a sight for the faint of heart.

I hugged Merlin tight to my body and buried my nose in his soft fur. “Marcy’s dog,” I mumbled.

Adam shook his head and ran his hand along the back of his neck, loosening his collar. “Follow me.” He spun on his heel and marched toward the house.

I had to do a combo walk-jog to keep up with him.

“Adam, I—”

He held up his hand to stop my chatter and kept walking.

I followed him onto Marcy’s porch. The proximity of possible food had Merlin lurching out of my arms and toward the front door. Adam caught him in a single swoop, glared at me and shook his head.

“I have to bring you in, El.”

My knees went rubbery. “You’re going to…arrest me?”

“Huh,” he grunted as he ran his hand along Merlin’s back. “Why would I arrest you? You do something illegal?”

My hands went to my hips, and a flash of attitude poured strength down my spine. “You just said you have to bring me in.”

“Into the house, Everly, not the station.” He tucked Merlin under his arm and angled his head toward Marcy’s living room as he held the door open for me.

The inside of the house was battered, bruised, and bleeding from internal injuries. The living room was littered with remnants from Marcy’s life. Sympathy hollowed my belly. Even if she was trying to kill me, I hated that someone did this to her home. That she’d see it looking like a grenade had exploded inside. “Who did this?”

Adam huffed. “That’s what you’re gonna tell me.”

I shook my head at him and took a few steps back. The sofa had been shredded, pictures ripped from walls, and pages from her books were strewn around the room. That last observation about did me in. I have a deep and abiding respect for books. Nancy Drew got me through childhood, and my current to-be-read stack grew with the proclivity of baby bunnies, not to mention the hundreds of novels I had stored on my iPad.

Adam dug in his pocket, pulled out a crisp, white handkerchief, and handed it to me. “El? What the hell is the matter with you? I need you in working order. Now.”

“Working order,” I stammered, trying to figure out where the tears had come from. I rubbed the handkerchief over my cheeks and tucked it in my pocket.

“Yeah. Why’d you think I brought you in here?” he asked, tossing me a pair of latex gloves. “Touch something.”

“Touch? You want me to touch—”

“Now,” he cut in, switching Merlin to his other arm. “We have Marcy at the station, but Monty can’t keep her there without reason.”

“Monty?” Probably one of the officers working with Adam. I shook my head, and pulled the tight latex over my fingers. He wasn’t making sense. I reached for Merlin, snuggled him against my chest, and headed for the kitchen.

Adam grabbed my arm. “What the hell?”

“Merlin needs food. I’ll touch things as soon as I feed him.”

“Merlin,” he said, hot on my heels, “can wait. I have to get you out of here before somebody starts asking questions I don’t want to answer.”

I located what was left of Merlin’s kibble, poured it in a pile on a relatively clean section of the kitchen floor, and turned to face Adam. “Okay. I’m ready now. You just want general impressions of who did this? Right?”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze moving back and forth between Merlin chowing down his dinner and me standing there in complete control of myself. I didn’t bother to explain how important a single act of normalcy was to my psyche after I’d been hit with too much adrenaline.

I made a slow circle of the kitchen until I reached the back door, and then rested my fingertips against the doorknob. “Adam?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out a small, spiral bound notebook and pen. “Whatcha got?”

I ran my fingers along the door, some of the broken shards of glass, and fragments from the cupboard doors. “Okay.” I faced him and sorted through the images in my mind. “There were four guys—make that four people. I can’t be sure of gender because they wore ski masks, but their body language and size indicate guys.”

“Dress?”

“Jeans, t-shirts, sneakers. Nothing remarkable.” I slowly made my way down the hall and into the bedroom.

“Any of them seem familiar?”

I rested my fingers against the shredded mattress. “No. There’s nothing familiar, but—”

He stopped writing, met my gaze. “But what?”

“There’s no anger.”

He looked around, mouth open. “Did you look at this place? Took a lot of pissed off to do this much damage.”

“Yeah. But there’s no anger. These guys were doing a job. Following orders. There is absolutely no emotion coming through with the images I’m getting.”

Merlin ran into the bedroom and circled around my feet. I picked him up and was rewarded with a couple sloppy puppy kisses.

“You’re telling me this was a professional hit.”

“What?” I handed Merlin to him. “Hold on to Merlin. He shouldn’t be running around in this mess. Could cut his paws.”

Adam sighed. “Pay attention. If there’s no emotion, this had to be a hired job.”

I nodded, my mind already in the living room. The shredded books triggered another flood of emotion, as memories of spending hours alone with Nancy Drew surfaced. Okay then. Another trip to my childhood home was in order, and I really needed to finish going through my parents’ papers. This emotional stuff was getting old, and it cropped up at the
worst
possible times.

I didn’t find anything new as I touched my way through Marcy’s living room. Shortly after that, Adam called it a night and walked me to my car. “We’re not done with this,” he said as I slid behind the wheel. “I expect an explanation as to why you’re here. Tomorrow morning. Seven sharp.”

I nodded. Couldn’t argue with him since he was right. It’s such a pain when that happens.

As I pulled away from Marcy’s house, I grabbed my cell and punched in Adam’s number. Busy. I counted to ten and tried again. “I just got rid of you,” he answered in his best big brother voice. Made me smile. He wasn’t all
that
angry with me.

“What’re you gonna do with Merlin?”

Silence. “Merlin?”

“Marcy’s dog,” I said, impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Woof.”

“You’re still holding him.”

“Uh. Yeah. Like you said, lots of glass on the floor. Marcy’ll be in a hotel tonight, so I’m gonna drop Merlin off soon as I’m done here.”

“Okay. Just wanted to be sure you weren’t leaving him there by himself.”

“Right. Seven a.m. My office.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I tapped End, and the phone rang immediately, flew from my hand, and landed on the passenger seat. By the time I grabbed it and pushed Talk, I was a little testy.

“Bad time, Sunshine?”

Mitch. I immediately pulled to the side of the road and shut off the engine.

“No. Just a long day.” I filled him in on everything that had been going on, censoring my part in certain events.

Naturally, he picked up on it. “About what you’re not saying. We can get into that tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You’ll be home tomorrow?” I wasn’t sure I was ready for the Security Clearance Discussion quite yet. “Um. You got my message, right? About my sense of touch coming back?”

“Got it. One of the reasons I’ll be over tomorrow afternoon.”

“So, are you okay with it?”

Silence.

“Mitch?”

“Yes. I’m okay with it. Can’t believe you asked that.”

I fiddled with the edge of the steering wheel. “It’s just that it complicates things and I—”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call you when I get in. So,” he changed the subject, “where are you? Exactly?”

I looked around. “Parked by the side of the road near the fair grounds. Why?”

“I thought we should give the phone sex a try.”

I swallowed. Audibly.

Laughter spilled over the line. “Couldn’t resist. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Sunshine.” And with that he was gone.

I grinned all the way home.

It was quiet when I pulled into my driveway. Either Annie was with Sean, working, or Adam hadn’t had a chance to call her yet. In any case, it meant I had the rest of the night to myself.

I was too keyed up to sleep, so I poured myself a glass of the leftover Rock Rabbit and inhaled the clean, fruity fragrance drifting from the glass. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but I enjoyed the scent…and the rich flavor that melted like chocolate over my tongue.

I made my way to the shower, dropped my clothes in a heap, and stepped under the spray. Merlin’s doggy licks needed to be washed away since they’d left my skin smelling like kibble. Also, I did some of my best thinking in the shower. I lathered my body with Light Blue gel, the crisp citrus scent spreading through the bathroom and clinging to my skin. Soothing. Normal. I decided that no matter what happened with Marcy, I would keep track of Merlin’s well being. Not that I wanted a dog. Nope, not me.

I dried off, rubbed Light Blue lotion into my skin and tossed on a lightweight, cotton sleep shirt. I snuggled under the covers and plumped a couple pillows behind my back so I could drink my wine and go through the infamous stack of envelopes one more time.

Now that my sense of touch was back, I needed to be more careful about how I handled the envelopes. I peered at the one sitting on top of the stack without touching it. The postmark was over ten years ago. It must have been sitting on my mom’s desk before she and dad went away on that last trip.

I sipped my wine, strength for whatever images might pop up. As much as I loved my mother, she kept her work separate from our family life. I couldn’t remember her having any women friends. It was just her, my dad, and me. And work. Both of them were away working most of the time. No telling what sort of personal correspondence Loyria Gray might have had sitting on her desk, so I didn’t know how to prep for whatever was in the envelope.

Not wanting to pick up any images from the other envelopes, I used the bottom of the wine glass to nudge the top letter askew from the stack.

Another sip of wine.

I set the glass down and closed my fingers around the envelope. The first image was cloudy, and a spike of panic shot through my chest. Had my ESP gone wonky again? No. Old images often weren’t as clear as recent ones. Somehow, I thought this would be different, the mail being attached to my mom and all.

I shifted the envelope so I could hold it in both hands, allowing it to rest lightly against my fingertips.

Dropped it.

Damn. Who the hell was the tall, dark-haired guy? His face was coarse with heavy brows, and he had hard, brown eyes. Streaks of silver ran through the hair at his temples.

Not. My. Dad. I had inherited his red hair, and he had kind, blue eyes.

Okay then. Probably someone my mom worked with.

I reached for my wine glass with unsteady fingers. Did I want to know what this letter said? To pry into my mom’s past? The gnawing pain around my heart said no. I could burn the letter, and leave the information in the past where it probably belonged.

I took another sip of wine, then set the glass down, aligned it just so on my nightstand.

But what if their accident hadn’t been an accident? Neither my curiosity nor my sense of responsibility would allow me to burn the letter. I tore it open, fast, like ripping off a bandage, then slipped the single sheet of paper from the envelope.