a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) (31 page)

“How do you figure?” I glared at him. “It knocked me on my butt. And he was dead, Adam. If I touch these pictures—” I waved my hands around— “I’ll pick up what he was feeling when he stuck them on the wall. It’s different.”

I spun on my Jimmy Choo heel and marched from the apartment. Adam followed, closed and locked the door behind us. I stopped, looked back at him, needing to see his expression.

“It’s okay,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “The guy was—”

“Twisted. Seriously twisted.”

The trip back to the station was silent. Adam’s disappointment hung heavy in the space between us, and he dropped me at my car with a reminder that I had him on speed dial for a reason. I turned to wave and remembered the letter in my handbag, quickly pulled it out and chased after him. Good thing he checked his rearview mirror because Jimmy Choo does not design footwear with marathon racing in mind.

“I forgot about this.” I handed him the envelope through the car window. “It’s been sitting on my mother’s desk for years.”

He took the envelope from me, slid the letter out and read it. “What’s it mean?”

“Haven’t got a clue. I thought you might be able to help.”

His aura sparkled with a warm, green glow. “You’re asking me for help?”

I crossed my arms and tapped out a rhythm with the toe of my shoe. “I can take it to Pierce instead.”

Adam ignored me, read through the letter again. “I’ll make a copy for the cryptographer.” He held my gaze. “Then I’ll get it to Annie. She and Pierce have resources I don’t have.”

“That works for me. I planned to run it by them anyway.” I waved him off and headed for my car.

My cell rang as I backed out of the parking space, and I huffed an irritated sigh. I wanted time to prepare for Mitch’s homecoming and…caller ID flashed restricted in bright red letters? I usually don’t answer those calls, but my finger slipped, and I pushed Talk by accident.

Katelan’s voice came over the line, tense, strained. “El, are you busy?”

“Busy?” I parroted back. Katelan called to make appointments, not to ask if I was busy.

“I was wondering if you could meet me at The Barton Group office in Raleigh? We’re in the new building on Moore Square.”

Good thing I was still in the parking lot since my attention was not on driving. “I guess so.” I checked the time. Mitch wasn’t due for two hours. “Is something wrong?”

Katelan’s breath hitched. “I think so, and I’m not sure what to do about it. Hold on.” There was some noise and talking in the background. “Okay. We’re going to break for lunch in about thirty minutes. Can you be here by then?”

My stomach growled at the thought of lunch. The smoothie hadn’t done much to fill me up. “Sure. Give me the address.”

I couldn’t find a parking space outside The Barton Group, so I had to use a garage several blocks away, which made me several minutes late. Katelan paced the lobby. One look at her suit—red, fitted, deep vee at the neck—made me glad I’d dressed in my one and only designer sundress. At least I looked like I belonged in the same office.

“Thank God you’re here.” She grabbed my arm and hustled me out the door.

“What’s going on, Katelan?” Her face was rice paper pale.

“I’m not sure. But we have to get off the street.” She ducked into a café several doors down the block, and plunked herself at an empty corner table.

I pulled out the chair across from her and slowly sat, hands folded on the table to keep from touching her.

Fear clouded her eyes. “There was a package.” She stopped, shook her head. “I don’t even know if this is confidential or not.”

That one I could help her with. “As your coach, I’m required to treat everything you say as confidential.”

“Okay. Yes, I know that. Justin North. We’re working on the negotiation today.”

My ears perked up, and I inched forward.

The server chose that moment to deliver menus and take our drink order. My curiosity wanted her to go away, but my stomach wanted her to bring food. Preferably soon. I opened the menu and scanned my options.

“He had a package.” Katelan’s voice shook.

I set the menu down. “Is that unusual?”

“No. It was, is, an envelope.” She ran her finger over the table drawing the dimensions on the wooden surface. “It slid off the desktop when he was looking through some papers and caught my attention. You know how it’s been with me and packages ever since you gave me that assignment?” she whispered behind her hand.

The server reappeared at our table. I ordered a Cobb Salad, and Katelan asked for a bowl of chilled asparagus soup, then I gave her my full attention. “Exactly what are you trying to tell me?”

“I know what’s in the package, and I think you should touch it.”

“What? Justin North is in that building,” I said, blindly pointing in the direction of the building. “He knows I don’t work for The Barton Group.” Lame. I couldn’t explain that North thought I was a society deb on the verge of getting married and buying a house from him.

“We could do it before he gets back from lunch.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “If we hurry.”

The server set our food on the table and I dug in, afraid Katelan would suggest we leave before I got a chance to eat. It was delicious. Or maybe I was just starving. “What do you think is in this envelope that’s so important?” I asked around a bite of avocado.

“Pictures.” She rolled her eyes. “Of two women. Together.”

“Some men like that sort of thing.” It wasn’t a good time to mention that I knew both his wife and his mistress.

My fork slipped from numb fingers. Oh no. No. No. No. I did not want to see pictures of Terri McGraw North and Marcy Blaine together. Like that.

“El, are you okay?”

I nodded, forked up a bite of salad, and took a swallow of Diet Coke.

“Maybe I’m wrong and he’s just into lesbians, but something feels very off about that envelope. I thought the information might help you with…however you’re connected to North.”

My eyes dilated. I couldn’t see them, but I know they did. Surely she didn’t think I was having an affair with Justin North. Eeuuw. “I’m not
connected
to North. Definitely not.”

A smile softened Katelan’s intensity. “I know, silly. But I still thought you might want to get a look at the pictures.”

“And you figure this idea of yours doesn’t have confidentiality issues?”

“There’s no conflict because the package and the pictures have nothing to do with The Barton Group or the negotiations I’m working on.”

She looked quite pleased with herself.

My curiosity was about to get me into trouble. Again. I nodded at her, dug some money out of my wallet, flipped open my cell phone, and pushed speed dial for Adam. No way was I sitting through another lecture.

He didn’t answer. Wasn’t that just like a cop? Insisted you keep them informed, then poof, unavailable. I left him a detailed message outlining my lunchtime agenda at The Barton Group while Katelan and I walked back to her office.

“It’ll be best if we sneak in through the back door.”

She had a point, but… “Tell me your office isn’t on the twenty-third floor.”

“Second. And the door to the stairs opens into an alcove off the conference room. Mr. North’s chair is the second one from the end, and the package is under his chair. You can’t miss it.”

By the time she’d finished her description, we were standing on the second floor stoop. Katelan pulled the door open, peeked in, then quickly slid into the alcove. I followed—a little less gracefully—and checked out the conference room. “Empty.” I mouthed.

Katelan nodded and strolled to the head of the table while I scooted over to North’s seat. She picked up a stack of papers, then gave me a barely perceptible nod indicating I was in the right place.

I started to bend over and reach for the package when a door opened behind me.

“Ms. Gray, I’d recognize you anywhere.”

TWENTY-THREE

I plastered a surprised look on my face
and turned to meet him, hand outstretched. “Mr. North, what a surprise.”

Katelan sounded like she’d swallowed a golf ball and was obviously not going to be of any help whatsoever. I fluttered my lashes at North, and thanked whatever force had guided me through wardrobe selection that morning. At least I looked the part he was expecting me to play.

Our palms connected, and I curled my fingertips around to make contact with his skin.

Oh, yeah. It was good to be me.

Images of how the negotiation had been going, and more importantly, images of Mitch and me in his office flashed through my mind. They were pretty fuzzy. I hoped that meant his memory was, too.

Then there were the images of the envelope, him opening it, the sensations of fear and anger. But I didn’t get a look at the contents. I hate when my fingers show me everything except what I most want to see.

“Have you and Mr. Hunt had time to look over the properties I suggested?” he asked as he fumbled with his chair, moving it away from the conference table.

Didn’t he know about the explosion? Surely Adam had questioned him—or not. This was a really bad time for me to be out of the loop. I made a stab at an intelligent response. “I wandered around by myself, but Mitchell is just getting back today. I expect it’ll be the first thing on our agenda.” I waved my hand in a society-girl-flip.

He bent to pick up both The Envelope and a folder that had been tucked under his chair. I pretended to slip and “accidentally” gave the chair—one of those over-sized jobs with armrests and wheels—a push, hard against his arm. Everything flew out of his hands and landed on the floor in a jumbled mess.

“Oh, my. Sometimes these shoes just slide right out from under me.” I kicked my foot back to show off my shoe. Thank you, Jimmy Choo.

His eyes followed the movement and his tongue darted out moistening his bottom lip.
Yuk
. I planted my foot back on the floor and bent to pick up the envelope. His gaze traveled to my backside. Yuk
and
eeuw.

When my fingers came in contact with the envelope, a smattering of images filled my mind. Well, damn. Good thing I’d turned away from him before my internal monitor caught the flash of the pictures. Marcy and…Danielle Chambers…were in flagrante delicto. Could not control my wrinkled nose.

I straightened and handed him the envelope. “I’m so sorry. Some days I just can’t seem to control myself.”

He gathered the spilled papers together and snatched the envelope from my hand. “No trouble, Ms. Gray.”

I glimpsed Katelan from the corner of my eye. She was moving toward us, and I spun around to face her. “I best excuse myself before I cause any more mischief.”

Something had to be done about the expression on her face. Inscrutable it was not. I pulled her to me, air-kissed each cheek, then grabbed her hand and gave it a subtle yank.

“Ahem.” North.

Damn.

I tossed a smile over my shoulder. “Mitchell and I will be getting back to you soon. I promise we will.”

“Ms. Gray?”

I batted my eyelashes. “Yes.” Right this very minute—not my favorite choice of words.

“What were you doing here?” He waved his arms to encompass the conference room. “This is a private meeting with exposed confidential materials.”

He was
so
right about that.

Katelan tried to pull her hand free. I hung on tightly and began swinging our arms. “Why having lunch with Katie Ann.” I flashed her a grin. “I so wanted to see where she worked.”

North glared at Katelan. “This was supposed to be a secure conference room.”

“Please don’t blame Katie Ann, Mr. North. She told me I couldn’t come to visit.” I pushed out my lower lip in a genteel pout. “But I insisted. We’ve been friends, well, just forever and I want her to be my maid of honor, and I asked her over lunch, and she said yes, and I just had to see where she worked.”

His eyes were starting to glaze over so I figured it was time to stop with the Southern belle routine and get the hell out of there before my Jimmy Choos lost their magic. I wiggled my fingers at him, and tugged Katelan into the hall and around the corner before I let go of her hand.

She stared at me open-mouthed. “What was
that
?” she asked, stabbing her finger in the general direction of the conference room.

“More than I bargained for when I came up here on a simple touching expedition.”

She shook her head. “Who
were
you in there?”

“Uh…Rambo El.” I jabbed the down arrow to call the elevator.

Another head shake. “I don’t think so. More like you’ve-lost-your-mind, El.” She gave her whole body a deliberate, visible shake. “Okay. I have to get back in there and go to work—” she took a breath—”like a normal person. But you owe me an explanation. And I want to know exactly what you saw in that envelope.”

Right. The pictures. “As soon as I can, I’ll fill you in.”

We parted with a hug and I stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, the shaking started. Damn. I clung to the sleek, metal elevator wall. I’d have to ask Annie why there was always a delayed reaction with the adrenaline rush-slash-shaking thing.