Read Armed With Steele Online

Authors: Kyra Jacobs

Armed With Steele (21 page)

“W-what did Frankston say?”

A grin snuck out across my face. “He laughed. A full out, knee-slapping, rib-busting laugh. I thought I’d blown it for sure. But then he straightened up, held out his hand, and thanked me for my honesty. Said it was the most refreshing answer he’d heard in a long time.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Nate shook his head and smiled. “I’m proud of you, agent Hartley. A lesser woman would have tucked her tail and run.”

Trust me, it’d certainly crossed my mind.
“Maybe.”

“So, did he give you any indication of when you’d hear from them?”

“He said they’d decide by the end of the week.”

Nate patted the frame of my car door. “Then, I suggest you get caught up on your other work while you still have the time.”

* * * *

“Shit!”

I watched, helpless, Thursday afternoon as the last few sips of my coffee spilled across the paperwork on my desk. Too much time in front of my laptop the past few days trying to keep both my handsome partner and Maxwell Office Solutions out of my head had made me stiff and clumsy. I dashed toward the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

My cell phone rang as I contained the spill.

“Hi, sweetheart. Just thought I’d call and say ‘hello.’”

I rolled my eyes.
Just called to say hello
was mother-speak for
checking to see if you’re still breathing and haven’t succumbed to the devastating fact that your best friend is still in a coma
. “Hi, Mom.”

“You haven’t called in a few days. Is everything going okay? How’s Grace?”

One question at a time, Ma…
“I’m doing fine, just been really busy with work. Taking a break now to clean up the mess I made on my computer desk.”

Silence. “I’m coming over.”

“No!” My gaze shot over to the napping mutt on my bedroom floor. How would I hide Brutus? “I mean, why? I’m fine. Really!”

“Jessica Ann Hartley, don’t you lie to me! You never clean your desk!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Contrary to what I’d told Michael Frankston earlier in the week, I was not an obsessively organized neat freak. That every square inch of the area’s most organized administrative assistant candidate’s desk was covered with papers, folders, pens, scissors and paper clips didn’t bother me one bit. Organized chaos had always been my MO.

“Mom, I’m only cleaning because I spilled my coffee.”

“Coffee? This late in the day? You really should watch your caffeine intake, dear.”

I gritted my teeth. “Yes, Mother.”

“So, how’s Grace doing?”

My eyes shifted from my messy desk to the photo of us on my dresser. “The same. Matt thought her hand twitched in his yesterday, but I think it was just wishful thinking.”

“Are you still going to visit her?”

I sighed. “Every day, Mom. Every day.”

“You poor thing—it must be so lonely, being in that house all alone. Thank goodness for your officer boyfriend. How are you two doing?”

I scowled, frustrated I couldn’t let her have it for spreading rumors at Macy’s. But it was my lie, and now I had to deal with it. “He’s…fine. Great. We see each other a few times a week. Look, Mom, I really need to go. There’s a show coming on that I’ve been watching lately, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Oh? What’s that? What channel?”

They just keep coming.
“It’s about home improvement. On channel two-forty-something or something. Love ya.”

I hung up, closed my eyes and counted to twenty. I knew her incessant questioning stemmed from a desire to stay connected, but the woman drove me mad sometimes!

15…16…17…

You and that temper of yours.
Nate’s words echoed in my head.

Nate.

Dammit, Mom, why’d you have to go and get him stuck in my head? I opened my eyes and sighed.

The street outside filled with the sound of neighborhood children exiting a school bus, and I glanced out my bedroom window. Ominous, dark clouds now marred the previously unblemished afternoon skies. Rain, according to The Weather Channel, was imminent. Precipitation pending or not, I was now desperate for a distraction.

“What do you think, Brutus? A quick walk?” I stepped closer to the window to get a better look at the thick clouds rolling in. “Maybe get a little fresh air before this supposed storm arrives?”

Brutus lifted his head off the floor, but otherwise remained stationary.

“I’ve got
treats
,” I said in a sing-songy voice.

A streak of white and tan tore out of my room.

I threw on some jogging pants, a long-sleeved top and my sneakers, then headed for the back door. Brutus paced beside his leash, little doggie butt doing a happy dance. I tossed him a treat, snapped the leash onto his collar, and we headed outside.

The sky was now completely overcast, and the air thick with pre-rain humidity. I cast an anxious glance skyward and considered calling off our walk. But I needed the break. My brain was fried, and to make matters worse, now Nate was roaming around in there.

“We’re gonna have to hurry, buddy.”

Our neighborhood was an older one, with homes built in the 50’s and 60’s. Houses were modest; yards were small. The few lots like ours that had detached garages had even less of a backyard than the rest. That meant for us, though, less mowing—which neither Grace nor I minded in the least. It also meant we had a smaller area to rake in the fall, which was definitely a plus. Large, sweeping silver maples and giant oak trees loomed over most yards. Their limbs swayed now, beckoning us to turn back.

But I was on a mission. Needed to get the adrenaline flowing through my system if I was to have any chance at being productive the rest of the day. And since Maxwell still hadn’t called, I had nothing else to do but work, work, work.

As we neared the end of the first street, a strong gust of wind kicked up a few early-season spent leaves. Brutus scurried between my legs.

“Some guard dog you are.”

I bent down to unweave his leash from my ankles. Another gust bowed the nearest trees farther, and I decided it might be best to take the short loop through the neighborhood today. Just a few more blocks, and we’d be home before the sky opened up and we got wet. I tossed Brutus half a treat, watched him inhale it in one gulp, and then guided us across the street.

We had the sidewalks to ourselves, what with the rain pending and all. It gave me time to decompress, clear my mind. And for once, Brutus seemed content to trot along beside me instead of jerking me back and forth across the sidewalk as he explored every new scent his sniffer detected.

Two blocks from home, I felt a small, wet drop hit my cheek. I picked up our pace. We could still make it in time if we hurried.

As we approached the last intersection between us and home, a tall brunette approached from the side street, jogging at a slow, labored clip. I pulled Brutus into the grass to give her more room, but instead of passing, she stopped a ways back from us to catch her breath. Gauging from the newness of her perfectly color-coordinated jogging outfit and the way her well-endowed chest was heaving, jogging probably wasn’t something she did all that often.

I tightened my grip on Brutus’ leash. Chesty and I exchanged a quick glance and a nod. Then I turned my attention back to the road we needed to cross. The coast clear, I stepped forward. Brutus, however, pulled in the opposite direction. I gave his leash a small jerk, but he ignored me. Continued to stretch his no-neck in the direction of the jogger.

“Come
on
,” I said, tugging harder, but Brutus was having none of it.

A large raindrop hit the sidewalk in front of me. And then another a few feet from that. And another. And another.

“Brutus, if we don’t get going we’re gonna get—”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the jogger’s head whip around. “Brutus?” she repeated, and his tailless behind began to wag madly. Her eyes shifted from the dog to me and narrowed. “
You
.”

I glanced right and left, hoping she was referring to someone else. But there were no other idiots out in the coming storm. Just me and my stupid, borrowed, traitorous guard dog.

And then I knew. Knew exactly who this evil-eyed stranger was.

The one person in the neighborhood I needed to avoid.

But as my dumb luck would have it, here we were on the same street corner at the same time on only the second walk I’d taken in months. I’d left the house trying to escape from thoughts of Nate, only to come face to face with his ex-girlfriend.

What were the odds?

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Katie walked forward and scanned me from head to toe. “So you’re the other woman.”

“Excuse me? I don’t know what you’re—”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” I could all but hear her claws come out.

Larger drops of rain began to dot the sidewalk. I grimaced as one caught me in the eye.

“Look, Katie, is it? I’m not anyone’s ‘other woman.’ This was all just a big misunderstanding.” I chuckled nervously. “See, my mother—”

“Your
mother
was bragging to some other old broad at Macy’s about how her daughter was seeing a cop. A cop who just happened to have the same name as
my boyfriend
.”

I tugged on Brutus’ leash, wanting to get away before things got really ugly. But he remained at her feet, butt waggling away. She ignored him and kept her dagger eyes on me.

“Nate and I are
not
seeing each other.”

“My ass.”

Is clearly the reason you’re out here jogging in the first place.
“We’re not. He’s helping me get to the bottom of…a little problem I’m having with my roommate. That’s all.”

She threw me an incredulous look. “You really expect me to buy that? After all the nights he spent over at your place?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nate’s never stayed over at my place!” Something told me I should try to shift the focus away from me and Nate, but how? And then it hit me: how do you fix a lie? Why, with another lie, of course!

I shrugged and looked down at my nails. “Besides, it’s not him I’m seeing. It’s Charlie.”

“Oh, yeah?”

I wrapped the leash around my hand and discreetly gave Brutus another tug. Damn if that dog didn’t do one hell of a boat anchor impression. More drops of rain painted the sidewalk around us, and a clap of thunder boomed in the distance. The storm was coming, and we should be going. I just needed to find a way around one really ticked-off brunette. “Yeah.”

Katie crossed her arms, oblivious to the rain. “Then prove it.”

Now she was beginning to piss me off. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

She reached up and poked my sternum with two thick acrylic nails. Nails painted, of all colors, blood red. “Prove it,
or else
.”

“Or else what?”

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Or else I send you on home with a broken nose.” She withdrew her fingers and used her other hand to crack a fist full of knuckles.

Suddenly, I wasn’t nearly as worried about getting my eyes clawed out as I was about getting punched in the face.

I glanced over at the intersection and debated trying to outrun her. She was obviously worn out. But I abandoned the idea. It was too risky—my luck, I’d trip and it’d be game over for my poor schnozz. Plus, I had no guarantee that I’d get Brutus to make the run with me. And even if we did make it home before she caught us, Katie would know exactly where I lived.

Not good.

I turned my head back to meet her gaze. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

Katie reached down into the top of her shirt and retrieved a cell phone from the industrial-strength strap of a lime green sports bra. She wiped it on her pant leg, flipped it open, dialed, and then held it out to me.

I choked back a mouthful of bile and took the phone from her, then gingerly held it with as few fingers as possible up by my ear. “Who—?”

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