The Black Sheep and the English Rose (19 page)

“I think, given what's going on a few hundred yards from here, that it's better if we leave as little a paper trail as possible.”

She didn't argue. He had a good point. He usually did. She'd like to believe she'd be thinking more clearly if he wasn't around, but the fact was, they did make a good team. They both had sharp minds and strong instincts, but they followed up on them in different ways. He made her think differently, which wasn't such a bad thing. “What do you propose we do while we wait?”

He grinned.

Okay, he also made her think about that. A lot. Which should bother her more than it did. Visions of their plane ride swam through her mind, so she swatted his arm in defense. Of all of it. “Insufferable.”

“I didn't say a word.”

“You didn't have to.” She started walking in the direction of the industrial park. And the fire.

“Now, Jane, honey,” he sang out from behind her, “don't go off in a huff.”

“Don't honey me. Or Jane me, for that matter,” she said. “And I'm not in a huff. I simply think we should use this time wisely.”

“And that means go rubbernecking at the scene of the crime? I hate to tell you this, Red, but you stand out. And if you open your mouth, you're downright unforgettable.”

She turned and batted her lashes at him. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She faced front and continued walking. All the better to hide her smile.
Unforgettable, hmm?
“I have no intention of letting anyone see me, much less hear me. Given my success rate in my field, I'd think you'd give me at least that much credit.”

He easily caught up to her and walked along beside her, his long legs more than matching her marching stride. “Field. Job. You really see your recreational pursuits as an occupation, don't you?”

She really just had to stop talking to him all together. In fact, she was already realizing just how bad an idea her new plan was going to be. If she'd been thinking with her head instead of with every other part of her body, she'd have found some way to get out of his range for a few moments, pull out her own little personal digital assistant, and get her own damn car.

She'd purposely kept her little unit hidden as Finn was far too clever for his own good, and the last thing she needed was for him to get his hands on that little gold mine of information. To anyone else who happened across it, it would appear quite generic. The main screen would lead to nothing but personal numbers of friends and business associates, with a Foundation business e-mail and file folders all tidily lined up.

Only Finn would know to dig deeper. Not only that, but he would know how. Or find someone who did. Likely one of his own partners. She doubted it would take him any time at all to unlock the information and private files she'd encoded on her little unit. Which was why it was staying right where it was, secreted away in an invisible lined pocket of her skirt. It was a miracle he hadn't found it on the plane. Even worse, she hadn't even thought about it at the time, only later, when she'd been crawling around on the floor, half naked.

She'd thought about raising a signal from the plane after they landed, but couldn't be certain he wasn't standing outside the bathroom door the entire time. The only contact she'd been able to make since meeting up with him was a brief message about her new destination when he'd gone off to get his little bag of goodies.

She tried very hard not to think about that damn bag. Which, she belatedly realized, he was still carrying. She was tempted to snatch it from his hands and throw it into the nearest refuse bin. The plane ride had been fun, but fun time was over. Forever.

“That was a particularly plaintive sigh.”

She didn't look at him, just kept walking. “If it was plaintive, it's because you can be quite wearisome.”

Finn chuckled.

“And I have no idea what you could possibly find amusing about the situation we're presently in, but—”

In the next instant, she found herself spun directly into his arms and being very soundly kissed. By the time she got her senses back, he was already lifting his head.

“What on earth did you do that for?” she demanded, not sounding remotely as put out as she should be.

“Did I ever tell you that you drive me crazy when you get all haughty on me?”

She pushed at him, but his arms didn't budge. “Don't patronize me, it doesn't reflect well.”

“I wasn't patronizing you. I was kissing you. And you were kissing me back, if you hadn't noticed.”

“Reflex action. You caught me off guard.”

He tugged her closer when she wriggled against him. “Felicity.”

She purposely didn't look at him. She didn't know what her eyes would give away at that moment, but she didn't dare risk it.

“Felicity,” he repeated, quietly, but also quite seriously. There was nothing remotely patronizing or even overly patient in his tone.

She stopped struggling and took a small, steadying breath, then faced him. “What?”

He grinned then. “Reflex action?”

She wanted to smack him. She also wanted to laugh. “You're mad, you know that? And not in a good way.” Her lips threatened to curve when his grin didn't abate. She should be quite tiffed at him for toying with her, and yet she couldn't seem to find much mad to grab hold of. Probably because his teasing was always playful, never demeaning. And because he meant it. Every delightful, mischievous moment of it. “Most of the time, anyway,” she finished, then punched at his shoulders when his rich laughter made her snicker. “Oh, you are so incorrigible. I don't know why I put up with it.”

He finally released her, then hauled her right back in and kissed her again, only this time he lingered before lifting his head. And damn if she didn't let him. She might have even sighed a bit, swayed a bit, as his lips left hers. “Maybe that's why you're so reflexively hooked on me. If I was anything less, you'd dismiss me out of hand.”

“I'm dismissing you, anyway.”

His grin simply grew. “Okay. In the meantime, can I check your reflexes again?”

“You don't take me seriously at all, do you?”

“Oh, I take you very seriously. I also take you playfully, demandingly, patiently, and decidedly willingly. In fact, I take all of you. All that you'll give me, anyway.” Then he did the damndest thing. He kissed her nose. The very tip of it. And then the middle of her forehead. Then the highest curve of her cheek. And then the spot just below her ear. It was completely disarming. He nipped the tip of her chin, then dropped the softest, sweetest, most thorough kiss on her lips she'd ever experienced. She was literally reeling when he finally lifted his head.

The only saving grace at all was that he looked a tad disoriented himself.

“What you do to me, Felicity Jane,” he said, his voice a bit more gruff now. “What you do.”

She couldn't have formed words even if she'd tried.

“Let's go check out this fire,” he said, “from an anonymous viewpoint.” Then he took her hand and set off across the lot, toward the buildings a row behind the burning one.

And, still reeling, she let him.

H
er hand felt all too right tucked into his. So Finn focused on the flames ahead and not the ones licking at his heart.

“Won't we be just as obvious ducking down a row of darkened warehouses? And what about the car Rafe is sending?”

“Weren't you the one who thought we should look into this?”

“Yes, but—”

“The car will wait for us.”

“If even one official comes in or out of here and sees a town car idling at the curb…”

He squeezed her hand and pulled her a little closer so they bumped hips. “Give me and my guys a little more credit than that,” he said, parroting her earlier words, but with a hint of a smile. He was a little surprised she hadn't pulled her hand away. He was sure it was only a matter of time. So he held on while he could.

“Point made,” she said wryly. “My thinking was to get close enough to overhear what the firemen are saying, but it would depend on the size of the crowd.”

“Not sure there's going to be much of one out here, other than the crews working the fire and maybe some media.”

“And maybe Julia,” Felicity said. “It's her building, after all. Maybe they called her.”

“Or maybe she was already here.”

He felt her shudder slightly. “I hope—you don't think she was in there, do you? I mean, the stone isn't worth killing for.” She looked at Finn. “Your guy…he wouldn't—”

“My guy, meaning my partners? Or meaning my client?”

“Client,” she said, as if she couldn't believe he'd even question that.

He held her hand a bit more tightly. “No, he wouldn't. His is a convoluted story, but it checks out. He has documentation no one else would be privy to. The sapphire is definitely rightfully his. Not so much the setting it's currently in, that's not the original. But the stone itself, yes.”

“Okay,” she said easily. “Anyone else we could think of?”

“You mean besides Reese?”

“He wouldn't.”

“No, I don't think so, either,” he agreed. “Not in this case anyway.”

“Finn.”

“Anyone is capable of anything, given the right motivation, but hurt or not in this situation, I don't see him reacting to that degree. He might be ruthless, but I think that's just business. And murdering people is bad for business.”

She didn't respond, but she didn't pull her hand away either.

“So the fire serves what purpose, then? Killing Julia would be counterproductive to anyone who wants the stone.”

“Maybe the intent isn't to kill, but intimidate.”

“And risk her or the sapphire in the process?”

Finn shrugged. “Maybe they knew she wasn't on premises. Or maybe it's someone who was tracking her and Reese together and doesn't know she's not working with Reese any longer. They might have sent a warning that no longer mattered, as she's no longer planning on coming out here anyway. If the local agencies haven't gotten a hold of her, she might not even know.”

“All possible, even probable,” Felicity said. “So, if it's not John, then who set the blaze? Not her client, I wouldn't think.”

“Do you think Reese knew there was another player on the field and didn't tell us? Never mind, don't answer that. Of course it's a possibility.”

“Maybe it's his back-up client,” Felicity mused. “If they'd made a deal and she double-crossed him, that would force Reese to renege on that deal. Maybe someone isn't all that happy about losing out on the opportunity and decided on a little payback.”

“Seems like if there was a chance of the buyer being that upset, Reese would have gone after the stone himself to honor the deal. Which makes me think they didn't have the back-up plan entirely set up yet.”

“So, following that line, and the fact that John assumes she's going ahead with altering the satyr as planned, then she's setting it up anyway, just on her own. Which puts us back to square one, with no one else on the playing field with a grudge to bear. Except John. And, I agree with you, hurt or not, I don't see him doing something like this. I doubt he'd send us out after her, knowing what we'd stumble across.”

“Then we're back to intimidation,” Finn said. “If the back-up knows he's dealing only with Julia now, maybe he's angling for a better deal.”

“Because she's a woman and whoever it is would conclude she doesn't know what she's doing?”

Finn smiled. “I'd never say that.”

“You didn't have to. And…point taken. Given the way men think, it is possible.” She huffed a little, mostly for show.

“We are an incorrigible lot,” Finn replied.

“Your accent is atrocious.”

Finn just kept smiling. “This is nice.”

“The bickering, you mean?”

He tugged her closer, then lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “The partnering.”

She didn't say anything, but she didn't exactly move out of his personal space. He considered that a step forward.

They slowed as they reached the scene of the fire. The crews had cordoned or taped off the surrounding area, and other than crossing the line, which would be quite conspicuous, there was no way to get close without going around the front of the buildings where everyone was assembled. There was still a fire going, but from what little he could see, and gauging on the level of activity, it was mostly out.

“Looks like it was mostly contained in the center of this row.”

Finn started edging them toward the front of the building, keeping them in the shadows of the warehouse that ran perpendicular to the area where the fire was. They passed a sign posted on a grassy median at the entrance to that section of warehouses. Finn got closer so they could read it.

Felicity pointed. “Julia's number, right there.”

They both turned and looked down the long row. It didn't take a lot of calculating to deduce which one was on fire.

“I don't think we're going to be able to get much closer without standing out,” Finn said. “There isn't a lot going on other than the firefighters. No media trucks.”

“I guess it's only a big deal to us.”

“And Julia.”

“And whoever set the fire.” She looked to Finn. “Should we try and contact John?”

Finn shook his head. “We do this our way. I appreciate the lead, but we're not doing this for him.”

“Agreed. But perhaps his reaction would be telling.”

Finn thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. “I say we play this our way and keep this to ourselves. Without a face-to-face, it would be next to impossible to gauge if he's hiding anything, and I don't want to inadvertently give anything away if he is, in fact, involved in this somehow. If he wants to follow up on his own, he's more than capable of it.”

She didn't argue that. “So, what next, then?”

“We go find our car, and I'll put Rafe on seeing what report he can get on this fire. See if arson is suspected or confirmed.”

“And that no one died.”

“No medical personnel here, other than the fire trucks, and the EMT they bring with them. We didn't hear any sirens earlier. More importantly, no coroner's van, either.”

“An ambulance could already have taken off before we got here.”

“Rafe'll find out one way or the other, but I'm betting if there was a fatality here, or even serious injury, some news outlet would be on the scene.”

“True.” She skipped a little to keep up with him as he increased his pace. “So, we're off to where now?”

“We're off to find out if the rest of Rome is burning.”

“Shipping docks or gallery first?”

He paused for a second and pulled out his iPhone. “You know, to save time, Rafe could probably find out…” He trailed off and tapped in a message to Rafe to find out if there were any emergency calls to Julia's other addresses. “I'm having him check her home address as well.”

“We're going to check on her clients, then? See if we can figure out who the buyer is?”

“It's the only thing we have to go on at the moment, until we hear something back from Rafe on the fire, and whatever else he can dig up.”

They reached the entrance to the industrial park, and Finn tugged her hand and kept going across the street, into another industrial park. Behind the first row of warehouses there was a row of dumpsters. Idling quietly behind them was their town car.

Once settled inside, Felicity said, “Who is on the list?”

Finn punched the file up, skimmed it again…then held it out for Felicity to take. She lifted a brow in surprise, but he continued holding the unit out to her until she took it. If he was going to talk the talk about her trusting him and letting guards down, then he had to walk the walk himself.

“Any of those names ring a bell or mean anything to you?”

Felicity was quiet as she carefully reviewed the list. “Nothing that stands out to me.” She looked up. “They're sorted by proximity and the amount of business they've conducted. Which takes precedence?”

“Considering the scene we just left, I'm giving edge to proximity. Everyone on that list has the funds to make the purchase.”

“Maybe we should cross reference and go to the one who hits first on both lists?”

Finn nodded. Just then his unit beeped. “Incoming file, should be from Rafe.”

She immediately went to hand it back to him, but he just said, “Click on the icon next to the message.”

She held his gaze for an extra beat, then did as he said. Her eyes widened a bit as she read.

“And?”

She glanced at him, then patted the seat next to her and went back to reading. “It'll be faster if we both go over it together.”

Finn slid over to the opposite seat, thinking a lot of things went better when they did them together. She leaned into him and held the unit between them.

“It was Julia's warehouse. Says here that early reports suspect arson. Too early to know anything else like why or how. They're checking her insurance to see what she might have to gain from it burning down.”

“No other reported guesses on who else might have had an axe to grind,” Finn said as he continued to read.

“But take a look at this,” she said, and tapped the screen. “There was a break-in at the shipping dock location. Nothing reported stolen or damaged. Just a routine check after an alarm going off. But when you add in the fire…”

“Which they'll put together shortly, which means we have to find her before they do.”

“No statement by her or anything mentioning her name in the official reports so far. And nothing going on at the gallery or her home address,” Felicity noted. She looked up at Finn. “How does your guy get all this information? I mean, the fire isn't even out yet.”

“I'm fairly convinced Rafe could hack into NASA and chat with the astronauts if he were so inclined.”

“Do you have a bit of a boundary issue with him, then?”

“No. He keeps it legal. He's just…creative.”

“I see.”

Finn wished he saw.
She
was asking about boundary issues? “What is it like?” he blurted out.

She shifted to look at him directly. “What is what like?”

“Working alone. I mean, Mac, Rafe, and I go our separate ways with cases far more often than we work together on one, but we give each other input all the time, utilize each other's strengths, maximize skill sets. I don't know what I'd do without them, but I'd certainly be less productive and a lot less successful. I'd be far more limited in the types of challenges I could take on.”

“I imagine so,” she said, a bit warily. “And yet you were…operating solo in these kinds of endeavors before you set up shop with them. Bogota and Prague both were before then.”

“I know. That's what drove me to create Trinity. I was in the midst of dismantling my father's estate, on extended leave from the district attorney's office, when I heard about the situation with Angelo and his wife's family's ancestral jewelry.”

“Bogota.”

“Yes. I thought I could help. I tried regular channels, but even with my background both legally and personally, I couldn't get anything set in motion.”

“So you took matters into your own hands. Literally.”

“I did,” he said, but he was thinking,
I took you into my own hands, then, too.
“And nothing was the same after that.”

“But you didn't get the diamonds back.”

“Exactly.”

Her expression shuttered a bit, but he pressed on.

“I knew, even then, that I could have helped. I just needed broader resources. I wasn't as prepared as I should have been.”
Though nothing could have prepared me for you.