ACCORDING TO PLAN (8 page)

I decided it was payback time and shrugged, levelling a bored look
at Tony. “Don’t make me use this. I might shoot off something you think is
important.”

The words hung between us and I heard Tank choke back a laugh. Tony
didn’t know I was a crack shot. My range instructor called me a freak of
nature.

Tank shifted his attention to the smaller man lying on the ground
to my left. He’d rolled over onto his back and Tank could now see his face. “Vinnie
Malone, what are you doing with Anthony again? Keeping company with him is
hazardous to your health.”

Vinnie’s eyes bulged and sweat poured down his face. Standing near
the car, I kept the gun trained on Tony. I wondered again how Tank knew these
two guys. My attention pivoted to Tank and Vinnie, but they were talking in low
tones.

“…this information does not make me happy Vincent.” Tank’s voice
had risen in anger. “You need to give me a name ‘cause when the cleaners get
here it won’t go good for you, if y’all catch my drift.”

I thought Vinnie was going to puke. Fear rolled off him in waves.
At least I wanted to think it was fear. I was
not
going to be the one to
check if it was something else.

Eeeww
.

“Aw Tank. I can’t. He’d cut off my balls if I ratted.”

“Vinnie, he can only cut off what’s left after Shelby’s shoots ‘em.”
Tank said.

Vinnie turned as grey as the concrete he lay against and looked at
me. I waved a salute with the gun. I could almost see the wheels in his brain
turning as he weighed his options. Decision made, he took a deep breath and
began. “I only talked to this guy on the phone. I never met him. We was to take
the girl and her car to this warehouse on Industrial Road. That’s all I know. I’m
just the driver.”

“So, who gave him your names?”

“I don’t know, honest.”

Tank shook his head. “That’s not good business, Vinnie. You should
always know who gives your name as referrals. So you can reciprocate.” He
looked over at Tony. “That means return the favor. Vinnie should always get a
name, right Tony?” Tony nodded unenthusiastically, his eyes never leaving the
gun.

Tank squatted down beside Vincent, grim-faced. I didn’t recognize
this man looming over Vinnie. He’d grown bigger, if that was possible and
menacing. His face turned hard, like granite and his voice dropped to a deadly
whisper. “Vinnie, you could find yourself in a lot of trouble. In fact, you
could end up hog-tied in an alley waiting for someone to take you away.” He
leaned closer. “Take you away somewhere quiet, where no one will hear you. Do
you understand what I’m telling you?”

A bead of sweat slowly made its way down the side of Vinnie’s face
and disappeared under his collar. Visibly shaking, he nodded yes. Tank
straightened, but not before he patted Vinnie’s cheek, hard. “That’s good. We’re
going to get to the bottom of this.”

Just then two nondescript black SUV’s pulled into the alley. Four
beefy men in matching dark suits and shades piled out followed by a lean,
angular man. My first thought was, this is so
Men In Black
. With quiet
efficiency they brought Tony and Vincent to their feet and escorted them to the
waiting SUVs.

Tank took the Glock from me and brought it to the man I assumed was
Neil, who said, “You did it this time, Steele. You blew your cover. I hope she
was worth it.”

I didn’t hear what Tank said, but Neil gave a physical start, then
turned and stalked off. I had a strong suspicion Tank hadn’t been too polite
with the man. Wrong move, if he’s your boss.

Throughout all of this, a tow truck backed in and an older male
exited, calmly winching the Blue Bomb to the back of the truck. He then threw
the door Tony ripped off onto the flat bed portion and I watched him take my
baby away.

A loud backfire, followed by a series of clunks had me turn and
peer down the alley. What was Regis doing here?

“Are you ready to go for a ride?” Startled, I turned to see that
Tank had returned and he flashed me a cocky grin. If he was in trouble with
Neil, he didn’t show it. He threw his arm around my shoulders and steered us
toward his motorcycle.

I picked at the splinter again and asked, “Did you see Regis? I
heard his car.”

“No. Are you sure it was him?”

“Oh yeah. I’d recognize the sound of his old junker anywhere. It’s
the stuff my nightmares are made of.”

That, and being sold into a slavery.

Tank shrugged. “Maybe he got side tracked by the detour signs like
you. Come on, let’s go home.”

I checked over my shoulder to see what was happening, but Tank
turned my head back and said, “Keep walking. Nothing you’d want to be a witness
to.”

I shivered and for the first time with Tank’s arm around me, not
from anticipation.

Chapter Twelve

“Ow, ow,
ow
!”

“Stop being a baby, it’s just a splinter.”

“No it’s not. It’s the size of an HB pencil and it hurts.”

I sat at the kitchen table while Tank crouched before me and
removed the offending sliver of wood with a pair of tweezers. With a satisfied
sigh I looked up and found him watching me. Eyes smoldering, lower lip caught
between his teeth, he scorched me with that one quick glance. Never taking his
eyes off me, he slowly released his lower lip before raising my palm to his
mouth.

Oh my.

Heat pooled low in my belly when he pursed his lips and softly blew
on the tiny, open wound. The hairs on my arm stood on end and an electrical
energy shot straight from my hand to the center of my feminine core. Fascinated
by his lips, I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

He leaned toward me. Would he kiss me? My lips parted in
anticipation. Flickers of disappointment stung my pride when all he did was
reach around and grab the first-aid kit. He applied some ointment and a Blue
Dinosaur Band-Aid. Had I finally pushed him completely away? Utterly
embarrassed, I tugged my hand, but he wouldn’t let go.

His firm lips pressed above the Band-Aid and I closed my eyes.
Kisses feathered the inside of my arm and my breath hitched when he paused at
the nape of my neck. The warmth from his body was tangible, the scent of his
aftershave and cologne tangy sweet with a hint of musk.

When I opened my eyes, Tank filled my vision. He was a hair’s
breadth away from my mouth. If I moved even an inch I’d touch his lips with
mine. I started to sway forward then caught myself. Tank was not who he said he
was, and I needed a lot of answers to a lot of questions.

I scrambled to collect my thoughts as I pushed at his chest. “Slow
down, cowboy. We have to talk.” I stood and eased around him, toward the
kitchen island.

Tank remained in a crouched position for a few seconds more before
rising to his feet. There was visible evidence he’d been affected by our
closeness. Towering over me, he took up a lot of space in my little kitchen and
I was sorely tempted to drag him up to our bedroom. Instead, I busied myself
putting away ointment, and Band-Aids and… stuff.

I hesitated when he came up beside me, but instead of hauling me
into his arms, he started washing the dishes, which had been left so abruptly
this morning. I grabbed a towel and began drying. While we worked in
companionable silence, my mind whirred into overtime.

I kept replaying what Neil said. “You blew your cover. I hope she
was worth it.”

Was cover had he blown, and was I worth it to him?

As I put away the last dish, I heard the fridge door open and
turned to see him holding a beer. He grabbed a second bottle, silently asking
me if I wanted one. I nodded and took it from him. Drink in hand, I followed
him to the living room where I curled in the big easy chair and waited while he
paced.

He took a long draw from his beer, pushed a hand through his hair
and rubbed the back of his neck. The last time I’d seen him this jumpy was
right before he met my family. Finally he stopped pacing and faced me.

“You’ve obviously figured out I’m not a P.I.” He chuckled when he
saw me roll my eyes.

“Duh!”

“I can’t give you a lot of details, I work for N.S.U.” He must have
caught my puzzled look. “Name’s not important. It’s a small agency within a
larger government branch. They recruited me right out of the military. Three
years ago I came here on a job with my buddy Caleb and ran into Ben Grady. We’d
all gone through basic together.”

He finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Ben’s
the one who insisted we go to the beach party where I met you. You kinda fell
into my arms and I couldn’t let go.”

At this beach party, Regis once again stalked me. When I’d gone to
leave, as in run screaming, I’d stumbled into a solid wall. The wall turned out
to be Tank, my knight in tattered jeans. Panicked, I begged him to pretend he
was my boyfriend. What started as a ploy to get rid of Regis, ended up as reality.

“When that job was done I requested to stay here and make this my
home base. The P.I. thing was an excellent cover. It gave me an excuse to ask a
lot of questions and not stick out in the crowd. So they set me up with a
legitimate business and let us go to it.”

That explained all the business trips, without me. The business
trips I’d been convinced were for Tank to meet someone else. “You could have
told me. I would have understood.”

“No, darlin’, I couldn’t.”

I finally voiced the fear which burned in me. “Did you leave me for
another woman?”

Did I even want to hear the answer?

Tank sat on the coffee table and leaned toward me. “No. I didn’t. When
I left and made you believe there was someone else... it cut my heart out. We
have an agent, who’s been deep undercover in a crime syndicate for over seven
years. The operative got wind my activities had spooked one paranoid pain in
the butt, so I had to disappear for a while. If Carlos had become serious about
checking me out, he’d have found you. Making it look like we split was the only
way I knew to keep you safe.”

Tank was a good actor. He’d fooled me and everyone I knew.

“Well... It so happens that my ‘
problem’
met a…premature
death in New York.” Tank chuckled at my reaction. “Not by me. He apparently was
making some extra bucks his boss didn’t know about and that was okay. But he
was using the extra dough to buy gifts and trinkets for the boss’s mistress and
that’s not okay.”

Tank reached out and took hold of my hand, kissing the Band-Aid on
my palm and then each finger individually. Between each sizzling kiss he spoke
slow and soft. “I’m back for good.”

Thirty thousand questions scrambled around my brain and it didn’t
help that all my girly parts were waking up with his kisses. As much as I
wanted—no—needed Tank to hold me tight and let nature take its natural course,
we had to square away everything that happened the last few days.

I needed answers, not sex.
Liar
, my libido growled, I needed
both.

I pulled my fingers from his warm grip, snatched up the empty beer
bottles and carried them into the kitchen. I turned to go back to the living
room and ran into the solid wall of his chest.

Déjà vu, just like when I met him the first time on the beach.

Big hands reached out and steadied me. My palms slid across his
muscled torso on their own accord. It would be so easy to stand on tiptoe, kiss
him and forget all the questions racing around my hormone driven mind. Sweep
them under a rug and look at them later.

I lifted my hands off his forearms. No. We were going to finish
this talk and I had to keep a clear head. Stepping back a pace, I leaned with
my back against the kitchen island. He gave me a look that promised more, but
wisely, Tank slid around to sit on a stool at the island and waited.

I rubbed my forehead, thinking about what Tank had shared. He hadn’t
left me for another woman, but he also hadn’t trusted me enough to be honest
and tell me the whole truth. It was as if I were a ribbon twisting with each
new puff of air. If it was safe for Tank to come back to me why did someone try
to kidnap me? I asked him that very question.

“I’m not sure. I think it has more to do with Harrison.” He
answered.

“Harrison? Is he part of the crime syndicate?”

“No, Harrison got in
way
over his head with someone we’ve
come to refer to as the ‘Big Boss.’ He tried to use his daddy’s influence to
squeeze out of it, but Big Boss wouldn’t let him go. I’ve been in contact with
Harry for a couple of months now and we finally got everything in place so he
could turn states evidence against this elusive piece of dirt.”

While Tank spoke, I began fitting the pieces together in my mind.
But my puzzle still had gaping holes in it.

“How did I get involved in all this? You told me he was a suspect
in a murder.”

“I know. We figured Harry’s phone was tapped, so we had him call
his parents weekly and talk about Lulu. Through Dango, my buddy with the L.A.P.D.
whom you met just recently”—I rolled my eyes—”we created a cover story of Harrison
getting friendly with a call girl and going A.W.O.L. when he was implicated in
the murder. To make his disappearance look and feel legit we had Raymond call
you to report him missing. We actually have Harry stashed away in a motel.”

That explained the strange vibes I’d gotten from the Grants. It had
all been an act. I knew it!

Tank continued. “That way when I showed up to nose around it wouldn’t
look suspicious, given our history.”

While I digested this information, I replayed everything that had
transpired over the past couple of days. “I went to L.A., searched Harrison’s
condo and it was all for nothing...the hooker outfit...the call girls—” I
stopped midsentence. “The call girls. I talked to some hookers. They knew Lulu
and Harry. How can that be?”

“I overheard you tell Polly you were going to find some hookers on
the street so I had to rustle up some ‘girls’ for you to talk to. I owe huge favors
to a couple of our female agents. The cars driving by were other agents making
sure you believed them.” He pushed to his feet and paced like a caged animal. “I
don’t know why I haven’t heard anything yet.”

My eyes widened as a realization hit me. “If I intercepted a coded
confirmation would I understand the message?”

He stopped pacing. “Probably not. Why?”

“Well, this morning, while you were in the shower, I answered your
phone by mistake. The message was,
enter a four digit code from your computer
or something like that. I forgot to tell you in all the excitement.”

He looked grim as he pulled out his laptop and placed it on the
kitchen table. He waited, impatiently tapping the sides as it booted up. I watched
as he opened file after file, entering codes and scanning information as it
flashed across the screen. He pulled out his phone and entered some numbers,
then went back to his laptop. Fixated on the various emotions crossing his
face, I knew exactly when he reached the ‘ah ha’ moment.

Then his brow furrowed again.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

His gaze remained vacant for a long moment and then he smiled. I
knew in my bones he did that to reassure me. He shut the computer down and
asked, “Do you want pizza?”

“Pizza?” I stammered.

“Yeah, I’m starved.” Tank grabbed his jacket and threw it on.
Shoving his laptop back into his leather saddlebag, he tossed the strap over
his shoulder and headed down the hall to the front door.

One minute we’re talking about spies, secret information,
undercover operatives and he wants to go for pizza?

He called out. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes, forty-five
tops. Do you want everything on it?”

From the kitchen I yelled back, “Yes, no, wait... No anchovies.” I
hated anchovies. Too salty and they made me bloat. I heard Tank roar off on his
motorcycle and idly wondered how he’d carry the pizza home. I started to put
the empty beer bottles in the recycling, then stopped abruptly.

He wasn’t going for pizza. He was going to meet someone.

Geez, Tank. When will you trust me?

I grabbed the keys and ran out to my car but the empty driveway
reminded me that I didn’t have a car anymore. It had been towed. Stomping my
foot in frustration I watched the tail lights of his bike turn the corner.

He’d be miles away before I could get Aunt Tillie’s 1964
Austen-Healy Sprite started. Shoving the keys into my pocket I turned to go
back into the house. Tank better have a good explanation when he got home. A
glint in the waning sunlight caught my attention. I paused when I saw, to my
left, what looked like a copper wire snaking across my driveway leading into
the neighbor’s shrubbery.

I don’t know what happened first, the deafening sound or the sudden
force of wind that threw me to the ground. Immense heat seared my neck and arms
and a piercing, sharp pain slammed near my temple.

Everything went black.