Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6 (24 page)

Chapter 29

Few things could drag Valene from a deep sleep like the one she’d dropped into, but the smell of fresh coffee was one of them.

Guess it was morning already, which shouldn’t be a surprise since Dingo had brought them to his secret hideout a few hours ago.

She cracked an eye open to find Dingo standing at the end of the bed, thumbing his phone with one hand and holding a steaming mug in the other.

Not a stitch of clothes on.

She amended her list of things that could keep her from sleep and put that image of him on top of the list.

He didn’t look her way or give any indication he’d noticed her when he said, “Stop ogling me.”

She smiled. “Don’t walk around looking like a centerfold for women, and I won’t.” 

Finished with his phone, he tossed it on the dresser and sat next to her. “You want this coffee?”

“Is a frog’s ass watertight?” She pushed up to where she could lean back and dragged the sheet up under her arms.

“Don’t hide the girls.”

She ignored that and reached out. “Give.”

He handed her the mug. “Demanding woman when you wake up.”

Not when she woke up to him. “How long did we sleep?”

“You were out about two hours.” Dingo got up and crossed the room, pulling on his jeans.

Which meant he probably napped less than a half hour. “What have you been doing?”

“Been online looking for information on last night’s event.” He zipped and padded back across the floor.

Evasive as always. She raked her fingers through her hair. “Has my phone rung?”

“No. I’d have gotten you.” 

“What’s going on, Dingo? I can’t take this polite conversation. It’s not like we’re planning a day at the beach. Nothing has changed in two hours, right?”

He walked back over and scratched his forehead. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“How much you’re willing to tell me.”

“About what specifically?”  She could do evasive, too.

“Who are you working for and I don’t mean Charlie?”

Acid churned in her stomach. What was he talking about? “I told you I can’t share anything about the project I’m on.”

“I heard Navarro mention Aram. Who is he?”

“Aram Pavlovsky is in the same field as me, but not in my league, and I say that with no ego. He’s a hustler who closes deals like a demon. He does outperform me right now in that regard.”

“How’d you meet Charlie?”

“He was referred to me a month ago by someone in the northeast. I spent a lot of hours checking him out. He’s very highly respected. What is your interest in him?”

“But he’s not the client you’re contracted to right now.” 

“Where are you going with this, Dingo? If I tell you my client’s name, what are you going to do with that information?”

“Depends.”

“I hate that word. I hate everything about this moment, because it feels like we’re right back where you’re feeding me a line of shit and I’m dancing around your lies.”  She put the mug down and threw the sheet aside, standing. She headed for the shower, grousing, “We never get past this point.”

“I can’t tell you things that have to do with national security, Valene.”

She stopped and turned. “Who are you, Dingo? What group do you work for?”

“I’m an operative. I’m not with any alphabet agency, but I’m on the right side of the law.”

“Is there somewhere I can call to confirm your identity?”

He hooked a hand on his neck. “There’s a number and if you called you would be convinced that person was me, but it’s bogus. I’m not in the system. I don’t want to lie to you. I’m on a case and I’m trying to keep you safe from Satan’s Garden Club, but I need information specifically about you.”

“Why?”

That got her the thousand yard stare.

She could scream but it would only hurt her voice and his ears. It wouldn’t make him give up anything. “I need to think. Let me shower and we’ll talk.”

She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door before he could irritate her any more. Once the water was on lobster-boil-hot, she climbed in and started scrubbing while she figured out her next move.

Smith had been at the event, but he hadn’t spoken to her, so what did that mean? She’d missed her chance with Tinker. Henri was going to maim her even if it wasn’t her fault, but Henri hadn’t contacted her with any information from Geoffrey about the scroll either.

Satan’s Garden Club would come after her again.

Why had that Navarro guy killed Aram?

Poor Aram. She put her head down against the tiled wall and let water blast over her. He’d been a pain in her side, but not someone who deserved to die that way. Had he stuck his nose into the wrong spot?

Navarro hadn’t seemed well informed on the scroll, which meant Aram had lacked information to give Navarro. She went back to scrubbing. Maybe Navarro went after Aram for another reason and lucked into the scroll information.

How had Dingo known to find her there?

Who was Dingo and what was he after? He kept asking about her client, but not the scroll. Smith had warned her Orion Hunters were after the scroll, but Dingo hadn’t really known who they were when he came to her a month ago.

Or had he known and just kept her in the dark, like usual?

He couldn’t be with the Orion Hunters, could he?

She stomped on that thought. Dingo had been working to stop the hunters from destroying this country, and his friends had almost died trying. Dingo might not ever tell her the truth about who he worked for or what he did, but she knew
what
he was–a man with an ironclad moral code.

If she could only get him to level with her on everything else.

She finished showering and toweled off, struggling with one question.

Do I tell Dingo about Smith or not?

What was the worst-case scenario if she did?

Smith finding out and demanding the fifty thousand dollars back. That gave her indigestion.

How would Smith find out?

If Dingo told whoever he was working for.

That simplified her decision. She knew what to do.

After pulling on a pair of jeans, a pink cotton blouse she rolled the cuffs up on, and sneakers, she actually found a small stash of makeup in a vanity drawer, and
score
, there were three shades of concealer.  She managed a decent job of toning down the ugly bruise so she looked a little less battered before she made it up to the kitchen.

Dingo had finished dressing in a black T-shirt, scuffed up jeans, a gray hoodie and boots. He sat at the island and looked up from his phone when she walked in.

She said, “Let’s talk.”

He shoved the phone into his pocket. “About?”

“Everything.” She refilled the mug she’d brought from the bedroom, turned and leaned back against the counter.

He offered, “You start.”

“You keep asking about my client. If you want me to tell you who he is, then you have to explain why you need to know and what you’re going to do with that information. If you give me the I-can’t-tell-you sound bite again, we’re at a stalemate.”

“What if I told you I’d use that information to keep you and other people safe?”

“The only person threatening
me
right now is Navarro. I did not hear or see anything that connected my client and him. Are you saying they’re connected?”

“Possibly.”

At least he hadn’t lied when he could have, but then she’d have made him prove it to her.

He said, “What else did Navarro tell you?”

Her conscience was taking her to task. Dingo had clearly made good on his claim to be here to protect her. But she had no idea who he would tell about Smith if she gave him information. “Give me something, Dingo. Anything. This client is important to me. Tell me why you’re so interested in him.”

“I’ll tell you what I can, but you can’t share it or go running off to confront someone.”

She considered that and nodded. “Okay.”

“And you can’t get mad at me.”

“I reserve that right.”

He looked up to the ceiling in a show of seeking patience, took a moment and brought his gaze back to her. “It was brought to my attention that Charlie is suspected of illegal operations.”

She pushed off the counter. “Your people are investigating my client? Why?”

“Charlie wasn’t on our radar, but after what happened with Navarro, I’m looking at everything connected to you.”

“I told you Navarro only came after me because Aram had called my phone and then he blabbed to Navarro’s man about an artifact that might be the one I’m hunting.”

“Why did Navarro kill Aram?”

“I don’t know. I asked and he said it was just a body he had to put to rest. How is Navarro connected to what your people are investigating?”

Dingo went deathly still. “Let’s get back to–”

“Don’t you dare clam up on me,” she said, slapping the counter. “You can’t trust me, but I’m supposed to believe all this and answer all your questions?”

“It’s not like that, Val. There’s a chance this is all tied together. Your client and Navarro’s group.”

“That’s a leap. Navarro didn’t know about me, or what I’m hunting for, until he found my name in Aram’s phone. Speaking of Navarro, what about your name? Is it really Paddock?”

“Yes.”

“But you couldn’t tell me that seven years ago, could you? You said it was Paddington.”

“I was shielding you–”

“
Stop it!”
she shouted. “Stop shielding me. Stop hiding everything from me. Stop taking risks for me and then saying you can’t trust me! Don’t you get it? I–”  She caught herself before she blundered and said she loved him.

She’d regretted not telling Dingo that when she thought Navarro was going to kill her, but if she said it now she’d regret telling him when he couldn’t give her love back.

He saw her as a responsibility, someone to protect.

Not someone to have as a partner.

Dingo needed no one. Least of all her. The time had come to stop just
telling
herself that and start accepting it as truth.

He looked lost and lifted a hand to her, but her phone rang with Henri’s tune, extinguishing the chaotic tension that had been ricocheting between them.

She reached for her purse.

Dingo put his hand on the purse, stopping her. “Who is it?”

“My ex-husband...” Her words stalled at the look on Dingo’s face.

“What’s your ex got to do with this?”

She was an idiot because her heart did a little dance at the anger in Dingo’s voice. “He’s in a business related to mine and helping me with this project.”

The phone kept ringing. Dingo’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “He knows what you’re hunting for, but you won’t tell me?”

She should have said
a
project. It did sound bad when he put it that way, but he was not going to make her feel guilty. “Yes, he does. He’s been with me for a long time and I need to take this.”

“No. Wait until you see if he leaves a message.”

“Why?”

“Because someone could triangulate our position.”

She snatched her purse away, but waited for her phone to stop ringing. She punched her button for the voicemail and got, “Valene...” Noisy racket. “...the shop in half an hour.” 

“What’s wrong?” Dingo asked.

“The message is broken up. He must have had a bad connection.” She tapped Henri’s number and got a message that the cell phone customer was not answering.

It should have said the cell tower was taking a break.

She ended the call and pointed the phone at Dingo. “You’re taking me to Pasadena now.”

“To see your ex?”

“Yes.”

“How long were you married?”

“I don’t have time for this. I need to go!”

“Answer me, Val.”  Dingo wasn’t budging.

She made a sound of disgust and irritation balled into one surly growl. “A year, give or take a few days. Satisfied? Can we leave now?”

That drew a frown on his face as if confused, but only for an instant, then he produced a set of car keys from his jeans pocket. He walked to the door for the garage, slowing to lift a black duffel bag from the floor before he opened the door.

“Do I get luggage, too?” she quipped.

“This isn’t luggage. It’s a go bag and if you want to go with it you need to get your ass moving. Wouldn’t want to keep your ex waiting.”

What?

Dingo–the man who shared nothing, wanted no ties and acted as if he was here just to keep her safe–had a burr up his butt about her being married?

She clamped down on the sudden rush of happiness she felt at what sounded like a spurt of jealousy.
Don’t be stupid.
Allowing that idea to take root was the road to misery.