Fake: The Scarab Beetle Series: #3 (The Academy) (10 page)

“But how is Mr. Jones related to all of this?” I asked. I pointed to the tax documents. “This family is upper middle class at worst, barely rich at best. If he made a secret underground cell phone service, wouldn’t he be really rich?”

Marc shrugged. “The cash may be in an offshore bank somewhere. And if it’s only a local cell phone service, then it’d be a limited market.”

It still didn’t add up for me. It was early in the morning and I was hungry. My brain wasn’t working. Or something about this didn’t make sense and I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Help me out here. He’s got some secret underground cell phone service and he never even spends the money he earns from it? That’s really far out there.”

Axel let out a slow breath between his lips. “Whatever it is, we don’t need to worry about that just yet. We just need to find this core, and if that fails, we’re at least giving time for the others to work on our alternate plan.”

“To do what?”

Marc smirked. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“Shut up, I’m still new to this.” I stopped a moment, thinking. “So the bad guys are looking for leverage to make Corey do the work they want. So they’ll be looking for me...so you’ve got me out there looking at stuff out in public.”

Marc nodded. “Yup.”

I thought about what an alternate plan could be and just started making it up. “So if you guys cart me around while we look for this core, some of your other people will watch to see who is tailing us?”

“Bingo,” Marc said, his grin broadening. This was a good change. At least he was distracted from being mad. “Corey goes into a secure location so they can’t access him. So even if they think they’re looking for Brandon, they can’t get to him. So they’re left with you if they think you’re the girlfriend. If we can’t find this core, we’re hoping someone will still look for you and we might be able to figure out who they are and where they’re hiding out at.”

I twisted my head, looking out the windows, trying to look for cars following. The sun wouldn’t be up for a couple of hours yet, but I didn’t see any headlights. “But Kevin and Raven are with Corey. So who’s following us? More Academy people?”

“You don’t need to know anything about them,” Marc said.

“How am I supposed to know who are the bad guys and who are the good guys if they catch up with us? If you don’t tell me, I’ll guess.”

“Go ahead and guess,” Marc said. He crossed his arms, his eyes challenging.

Despite the sparring between us, this was something of a relief. I was starting to wonder if my previous assumption of him being mad might have been a mistake. I admired a lot about him, even though at times he was chauvinistic. He was a street smart, ex-thug, now working for the good guys. His hair brushed to the front, the glint in his eyes; he looked like a rock star to me. Badass and smug, but despite my pushing him away at times, he was always right there.

A random car rolled out from a side street, turning right a block ahead of us and driving on. “Is that them?” I asked. I wasn’t really guessing. I was just going to point out every car until he said who was who.

“Let’s try to not talk about that so openly,” Axel said. “It doesn’t matter who is on our tail. Our job is to pretend they don’t exist. We shouldn’t be pointing them out. Talk about something else.”

“Like the Academy?” I asked.

“No,” Marc said.

“Sure,” Axel said at the same time.

Marc frowned and shook his head. “Not right now. Not yet.”

“She’s ready for it,” Axel said. “If she’s asking, we should tell her.”

“Why can’t you tell me?” I asked.

Marc shifted in his seat, stretching and fiddling with the box. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said. “It’s that you don’t trust us. If I tell you certain secrets and you get pissed off at me, there’s nothing to stop you from going to someone like Blake or your brother and telling them everything.”

I was going to say I wouldn’t do that, but the truth was, I’d already told Blake things because I was uncomfortable with them. Trust was hard to earn if someone kept secrets all the time. I folded my arms, sitting back, staring out the window.

Marc returned to the paperwork, flipping through some of the files. “Maybe we should find a way to ask the wife. Maybe she knows about the cell phone service and hasn’t told anyone. She’d know where it was.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell her about it,” I said quietly. “If there was a secret money account with a possibly illegal underground cell phone service, would you tell your wife? It didn’t look like she got control of a bunch of money even though he died. She’s still in the same house. If I got a billion dollars in a Swiss account because my husband died and left me an illegal cell phone service, I’d move at least to Isle of Palms, maybe Kiawah—probably out of the country.”

Marc sighed. He pressed a palm to his face, rubbing. “Okay, I was just thinking maybe we should have a team keep an eye on her. Just in case they turn to her next. She’s got kids and all.”

I wanted to kiss Marc right then for being so sweet, protecting a family he didn’t even know. He was right. This team might target the family, if they hadn’t already. “Can you get more Academy people to watch the house?”

“We could do that,” Axel said.

Marc started sending a text from his phone.

“But now what?” I asked. “Isn’t he a landlord or something? Maybe he keeps this core at one of his properties. Or at least at work.”

Marc nodded, but kept his eyes on his phone. “The most obvious is probably the most likely.”

“So we break in and check out the place?” I asked.

“Maybe. We need to scope it out, first. Go through that trash.”

“Do we have to?”

“Cover our bases,” he said.

I dug through the trash, avoiding clear plastic bags that looked like they were for bathrooms and bedrooms. Two were stuffed with paper. I opened one, and noticed little Jones got a D on his spelling test.

The other must have been from an office. Gum wrappers, old mail. I flipped through the mail, mostly ads, some for high-end credit card applications. Among the envelopes, there were invitations to parties, some thank you notes. “Should we check out his friends? Wouldn’t one of them might know what he was up to?

Marc lifted his head, read the address on one of the envelopes I held up and nodded. “First, let’s scope out the office. If we don’t get any leads from that, we’ll check out his friends.”

We fell into a silence. I pretended to read documents, but my eyes were hurting trying to read in the car, so I opted for staring out the window and when that didn’t ease the headache, I sat back with my eyes closed. Marc quietly thumbed his way through the documents, learning what he could.

After a few moments, I started passing out. I caught myself and sat up quickly, moving to stay awake.

Marc pulled his attention from a file. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’re sleepy, go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep.” I didn’t. I wanted to be awake. Last time I fell asleep, bad things happened.

“Liar,” he said. He dropped the file and shoved the box to the floor. He snagged my elbow, and tugged. A few locks of his brown hair fell forward into his eyes as he looked at me. “Come on, Bambi. Relax a little.”

I didn’t know what he was doing at first, and thought he just wanted me to sit back a certain way. Then he tugged again harder and I nearly face planted into his lap. I caught myself just before my nose knocked into his thigh.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Shush,” he said. He pressed his fingertips over my eyes so they would close. “Sleep.”

“I’m going to get kidnapped by jerks and you want me to sleep?”

“You’re not getting kidnapped,” he said. “Now shut up and get some rest while you can.”

“But...”

“We’re going to check out this office, but it isn’t open. We’re not going to break into it right now. We’ll wait until someone comes and opens up and check out the place. That’s probably a good thing. We’ll lay low and let these guys chasing you catch up with us. We’re executing both plans at once this way.” He dropped his hand onto my head, urging me to relax against his leg. “Sleep and I’ll wake you up if anything interesting happens.”

“It’s a good idea,” Axel said. “Do it now, while you can.”

I grunted, but I really was tired. Stress was weighing heavy. I wanted to stay awake for Brandon. He was more than likely terrified in some trunk, or held at gunpoint to break into a core that he had no idea how to begin. How long could he fake being Corey? I felt like I should stay awake for his sake.

I also knew that if I was too tired to kick someone’s butt, I’d be no help at all.

As I started to pass out, Marc kept his hand by my face, and a gentle thumb traced a soft spot right behind my ear. When I split my eyes open just enough to peek up at him, he was staring out the window, his head propped up in his other hand. Something was bugging him.

As I drifted off to sleep, I knew he was worrying about Brandon.

HEAT

W
hen I woke up again, the sun was up. The car was parked and my face was buried in Marc’s thigh. I was tempted to remain. Numbness was welcome when I was sure chaos would follow. One more moment lost in the fog of sleep was tempting.

Marc’s hand was pressed against my face and at first, I thought he was trying to wake me. But as I stretched and got up, he moved quickly, breathing in sharply and turning his head. There was a red mark on his cheek. He’d been asleep, too.

“Some lookout you are,” I croaked, and then swallowed thickly.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he said. He stuffed his fingers into my hair and shook it around to tangle it more.

I slapped his arm away and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. The driver’s seat was empty. We were alone in the back of the car. We were in a parking lot, with other cars on either side, making it harder for me to figure out where we were and what was going on. “Where’s Axel?”

Marc sat up more, scanning the area. He pointed. “Over there.”

It took me a minute to figure out what he was pointing at. We were surrounded by a strip mall I hadn’t been to before. Different sections of the Charleston area had different styles and feelings. By the look of the brightly painted architecture and the ritzy signs and all the palm and palmetto trees and sand in spots, it felt like Isle of Palms.

I could see through a big window that Axel was inside the rental office we’d been on the hunt for. The sign overhead read “New Palm Realty” and displayed pictures of fancy beach homes in the front window. The office was lodged between a Chinese restaurant and a designer handbag store.

Inside New Palm Realty was a plump woman sitting behind the desk. Axel was standing in front of her, talking and motioning with his hands. He was wearing a black jacket and jeans that showed off his butt. We were dozens of feet away, but I could tell the woman’s line of sight was currently fixated on Axel’s crotch.

“What’s he doing?” I asked.

“Scouting,” Marc said. He slumped back. “Must have spotted an opportunity. We’ll have to wait here until he’s done.”

The woman’s eyes lifted from Axel’s waist to his face and her face became animated as she spoke to him. There was no way to figure out what they were talking about from this distance.

My flip-flops had fallen off. My body was sore. I tried to find a comfortable position without lying down again. I stared out the window, watching Axel continue his conversation. The woman he was talking to was in her mid-forties, looking none the worse that her boss wasn’t there. Business continued without Mr. Jones. I wondered if his wife owned it now.

I swallowed hard and stretched again, blew out a breath and sat back. I didn’t like waiting. I was hungry, and needed coffee to wake up. I wondered where Brandon and Corey were. I was paranoid that Brandon was already dead. Maybe the German figured out they’d made a mistake. Maybe he had them both and was torturing them.

Marc leaned against the far edge of the seat, looking out the window, avoiding me.

I may have rested and gotten some energy back, but I could tell something was still bothering him. I was ready to get this part over with. “I give up,” I said. “What’s going on?”

Marc turned his head and did that wrinkle between the brows look. “What?”

“You’re mad about something.”

He cocked his head. His mismatched eyes confused. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

He grunted, scrubbing a palm over his face. “If you mean having to sit in a car while someone has Brandon over a barrel? No, I’m not happy.”

“Is that all?” I asked, staring him down. I was willing to believe that was all it was, but I wanted to be sure.

He faced me full on, his eyes searching me, like he wasn’t sure how much to tell me. His lips tightened.

“You’re angry about something. You’ve been glaring since...I don’t know. Since the fountain,” I said.

Marc’s face froze then, like he wasn’t sure. “I don’t need to fight with you.”