a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) (18 page)

About a mile from home some idiot driver pulled in front of me. Fear slid down my spine and tightened my muscles. I sucked in an outraged breath, hit the brakes, and the seatbelt bit into my shoulder. “Idiot! You almost smashed my new baby.”

I maneuvered a lane change to keep from bumping into his very expensive rear end, then reached to push my hair off my forehead and wipe the sweat away. Damn all stupid drivers to—whoa.

I’d seen that car in the parking lot at North Construction the other day. Not that I usually notice cars but this one—a gorgeous, deep, cherry red, Mercedes convertible caught my eye. How could it not? I whipped off my sunglasses for a better look at the driver. Sure enough it was Justin North, and it looked like Marcy Blaine was a more-than-casual passenger considering the way her fingers caressed his neck.

Okay, then.

I slid my Oakleys back on, eased off the gas, and let a couple cars cut between us. This was the perfect opportunity for some harmless snooping, and to spend some quality time with my new car. It looked like Justin and Marcy were heading for Highway 64 in the direction of Jordan Lake, and from his dazed expression, reflected perfectly in the rearview mirror, her fingers had found a whole new area to explore.

More information than I needed, and enough to have me wondering about the wisdom of following them too closely. Considering where the bulk of his attention was focused, he could drive off the road at any moment.

The possibility that one of them may well have tried to kill me a few days ago slammed into my sloggy brain. What was I thinking, following them? To who knew where? There was a lot of country out this way and not a lot of people. Plenty of places to hide a body. I reached for my cell again. No way would anyone let me forget it if I didn’t give Annie a heads-up.

She answered on the first ring. “You home?”

“Nope. I’m headed out sixty-four, following Justin North and Marcy Blaine. And I can confirm they have an active sexual relationship.”

“I’m not going to bother asking if you’ve lost your mind, since it’s obvious you have. Why didn’t you call Adam to have him pick up this tail?”

“My mind is in working order. I chose not to call Adam, because I need to feel useful since my fingertips have checked out. Holy macaroni! She shouldn’t be down there, doing that, in an open convertible with the rear-view mirror flashing X-rated images of his blissed-out expression.”

“Way too much information. But probably not much chance they’ll spot you since they have better things to think about.”

“I’m in a vehicle they couldn’t possibly recognize since I’ve only had it for a few hours.”

Annie huffed. “I rang Adam on my land line. Soon as he answers, I’ll send him after you.”

“Um-hmm, good plan. Gotta go. They’re turning onto Route seven-fifty-one.”

I pressed End before she could tell me to back off. Not that I was trying to go all vigilante or anything, I just needed to be useful.

Who was I kidding?

There was no way my curiosity could let go of this juicy opportunity.

THIRTEEN

North and Marcy turned down
a side road off Route 751. I knew better than to follow too closely. I zoomed by, went up to the next turn-off, did a ten-point turn—it was a tight space—and followed them down a single lane road. My maneuvers should have given them plenty of time to put all suspicion of a tail aside. Especially since their minds were likely focused in more lascivious directions.

I scanned the area for a place to pull over and hide my car, because, seriously, I did not want to come nose-to-nose with them if they headed back to 751. Less than a quarter mile in, I spotted the perfect place—a handy turn-off where I could nestle my car in a copse of pine trees while I did some reconnoitering.

It wouldn’t take long to check out a few driveways for the whereabouts of a cherry red convertible, but still, I seriously missed my hinky touch ability. It would be so much easier to touch the road and see where they’d turned. I pulled my hair back and secured it in my sturdiest clip. Now was definitely not the time for a hair mishap.

I closed the car door with a slow push, keeping it as noiseless as possible. It rewarded me with a whispered thunk. New car giddiness took over and I grinned at absolutely nothing.

Head bent, keeping my eyes on the road, I noticed fresh tire tracks leading down a dirt driveway. They were just off the edge of the concrete, and the only explanation I had for spotting them? Fate.

Naturally, I headed down the driveway. Images featuring dead heroines who rush in where stupidity and curiosity lead them, and who are totally oblivious to the evil villain, danced through my head.

I touched the cell phone in my pocket for reassurance that I wasn’t totally alone, then eased my way along the edge of the trees lining the driveway. It was quiet, without the usual chattering squirrels and chirping birds. Time for me to regroup. Did that mean Justin and Marcy had disturbed the wildlife in the very recent past?

The air was fragrant with summer scents—jasmine and dry pine needles that crunched under my feet—but there were no telltale human smells, like Marcy’s perfume, lingering in the air.

My toe caught under a partly rotted log, and I tripped, catching myself on tree before I landed on the ground. My heart pounded against my ribs as I bent to ease my foot from under the log. A dull pain shot through my ankle. “Damn!” Heeled Via Spigas were not the best shoes for this sort of expedition. I rubbed my abused muscles and twisted my ankle this way and that until the pain disappeared. Everything was back in working order, but I palmed my cell and punched in Annie’s number. Didn’t hit Send. Yet. It was an extra level of caution now that running wasn’t an option.

The driveway turned and I crept more deeply into the trees, moving slowly to avoid attention and not damage my ankle with another misstep.

Sure enough. There it was. The tail end of a cherry red, Mercedes convertible with the top still down, and no sign of Marcy or North.

I blew out a sigh of relief. Justin North in the all-together, doing the nasty—definitely the stuff of nightmares. I ran my teeth over my lower lip a few times while I played with the idea of checking out the car. Could be they left something incriminating behind. Or not. Was it worth taking a chance? I glanced at my cell. Annie’s number winked at me with bright green reassurance. I poised my right thumb over Send, and ran my left index finger over the diamond in my navel. Yeah, it was worth it.

I approached carefully, stopped before I got too close. They could have one of those locks that sounds an alarm if anything gets within shouting distance of the car’s interior. My hand moved before I thought, my fingertips brushing the door.

It took a minute before I realized what I’d done. Stupid. My breath caught, but no alarm went off. I blew out, clearing the air from my throat.
No more action without thinking, El. You know better.

I took a couple deep breaths to slow my heart rate, and then ran my fingertips over the driver’s headrest. A clear image of Justin North popped into my head.

A squeal erupted from my throat, and I jerked my hand back.

An image. From my fingertips.

Couldn’t breathe. Heart doing double time. Sucked in a breath and tried it again.

Nothing.

Okay. So if my mind was busy with something else, like getting caught with my hand in the convertible, my fingertips did their thing and images appeared. If I
tried
to pick up images, consciously, my weird and spooky, hinky touch thing remained on the fritz.

Good to know.

In an emergency, if I didn’t think about it, my weirdness was back in working order. Not an overwhelming endorsement. But hey, no complaints here. Partially functioning hinky touch was better than none.

I glanced up at the house. It appeared deserted, as if no one had been here for a while. I eased behind the tree line and circled to the back of the house. Far enough away from any action that I wouldn’t be heard, so I called Annie to check in.

She answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“Wandering around the woods that surround some house with interesting architecture—lots of windows and angles, modern design. Looks out of place here in the woods. North’s car is parked in front.”

I could hear her taking a deep, calming breath. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t wait for Adam, and you’re trespassing on private property…what are you thinking?”

“Not slinking around. I’m walking around like I own the place. Totally safe. They’re way too busy with each other to care about what I’m doing.”

“Uh-huh. That thing they’re busy with, the sex stuff, reaches a crescendo, and then other things become noticeable. Like someone stalking their house.”

“I’m not stalking their house, just taking a stroll through the woods on a warm, summer afternoon.” It was my story, and I was sticking to it.

“And I’m the Energizer Bunny. Have you forgotten that North knows you by sight? That he may well have tried to murder you?”

“Huh. Will you look at that? The side door is open.” I wandered over, peeked around the edge. Apparently having Annie on the phone gave me courage. Or made me instantaneously stupid.

“El. Stay away from that door! You don’t know where these people are, what they’re doing, or if even if they have weapons.”

“Actually, I do.” I whispered. “Open window. Clearly distinguishable sounds of a bad porno flick. I’ll be a lot safer inside where my voice won’t carry upstairs.”

I slipped through the door, skin bristling with prickly fear. North and Marcy wouldn’t be showing up downstairs for a while. And I’d have fair warning, unless they suddenly went silent. A chill crept along my spine. This wasn’t one of my better moves.

“Stop yelling, Annie, and listen. From the sound of things I can guarantee they aren’t paying any attention to me. I’m as safe as anyone could be while engaged in illegal entry of an occupied residence.”

“Get out of the house. Now.” Her voice held that scary razor edge she’d perfected in her sniper days.

Might be best to change the subject. “Where’s Adam?”

“Jurisdictional problems. The county authorities refused to tail North since he isn’t breaking the law.”

“What the hell, not breaking any laws? I was practically blown up last week.”

“Um-hmm, practically is the operative word here. North and Marcy driving out to Chatham county isn’t a crime. No weapons, no B and E that we know of—except for you of course.”

“Ah. Well I get that. Nothing is amiss unless you consider adultery a felony. Gotta go. It got quiet up there.”

I pressed End and shoved the phone in my pocket. No matter what the authorities thought, something was definitely amiss with this scenario. I stood in a small alcove off a beautiful kitchen that looked like it should grace the pages of
Architectural Digest
. Everything was state of the art and eerily perfect. Of course it could just be the situation that was eerie. I was pretty spooked standing in who knows whose kitchen while North and Marcy were happily occupied upstairs. Not so spooked I could ignore the demands of my curiosity, but definitely twitchy.

I slid the edge of my shirt over my fingertips and wiped everything down that I’d come in contact with. A definite sign I was getting better at covert missions. Yay, me. I stuck my head out the back door, didn’t see anything suspicious, so slithered through. Earlier experience taught me that sound carried just fine from that upstairs window, and I’d stumbled on the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop.

North’s voice floated down. “I knew he had a problem at the tables, knew he was in trouble, but the extent of the damage—”

“Personally, he gave me the creeps.” Marcy’s words were crisp with annoyance.

“Cal was good to me. Took me under his wing, helped me get started. TNTs stand behind each other. The gambling—”

“Good to you? Honestly, Justin, I don’t know how you can defend that man. I’m glad he’s dead. Glad he won’t be calling all the time, demanding to talk to you. He was crazy.”

“Not crazy. Sick. It’s like being an alcoholic. Cal pissed off the wrong people.”

“You think they killed him? The people he owed money to?” Her voice rose to an irritating screech.

“No. We’d managed to collect enough insurance money to cover most of the debt. Doesn’t make sense to kill a viable source of income. And Cal wasn’t going to stop gambling. He was a cash cow for them. Now that he’s gone, I think I’m beginning to realize that.”

It was silent for a minute, and so still I could hear the sheets rustle. “Did you kill him?” Marcy paused, her tone hesitant. “When you realized he’d gone bad, was in too deep—”

“No! My God, no. Cal was like a father to me. I couldn’t kill him. Needed to find a way to make him go away, but not kill him. I was forcing him out of the business. Isn’t that bad enough? Damn, Marcy.”

“Well, someone killed him.” Sugary words and Marcy. A disgusting combination that made my skin itch.

“I don’t know who.” North’s voice shook.

“Well, honey, you better find out. They could be after you too, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Muffled sounds drifted down. Kissing? Yep. Time for me to disappear and get this info to Adam. Surely he had forensic accountants going over Jacobson’s accounts.