Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (7 page)

He got up and started down my little hallway. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"To
get you some juice
. You're obviously having some weird internal monologue
and I don’t want you to dehydrate
."

I sank back on the comfy pillows and
avoided looking
down at my ruined dress while
trying
to process it all. A few hours ago
,
I had a dull job and a cute boss. Now I had a cute secret spy detective boss, was witness to a murder (though not the actual act, thanks to
the photocopying chore) and...
and what next? I just didn't know.
My imagination always stopped at the fun bits.

Adam
returned
with
a glass of
orange juice
and thrust it into my hands. "Drink," he ordered.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked, taking a sip.

"I'm going to stay with you until I'm sure you're okay
;
then I'm going to file my report."

"Are you sure you aren't going to call the police?"

"Absolutely, and neither are you. My team will deal with this. Keep drinking. I don't want you to go into shock."

I slurped another mouthful and tried to think things through. Was I supposed to go into work tomorrow? Should I go back to the agency
and ask for a new assignment
? Pull a sick day and stay in bed
,
wallowing in fear? Decisions, decisions.

"You need to be
at
work tomorrow," said Adam
,
answering my unasked question. "Do everything like norma
l. Turn up at your usual time—late—
" I scoffed at that
,
but really, he was right. I a
lways ran ten minutes late. "
—
W
ork normally. Don't do anything that isn't your normal routine. Don't give anyone a reason to suspect you know anything about what happened. I'll take your statement and you can't discuss it with anyone. Understand?"

"Yes
, but w
hy do I need to act like nothing happened?" I asked. "Why are you watching Dean anyway?
What was he up to?
" I waited while Adam had his own internal monologue.
Out of the frying pan
,
into the fire, I thought as I continued,
"C'mon, Adam. You know I'm going to dig anyway. This isn't just about Dean. What else is going on?"

"Fraud," he said at last, watching me closely. "There
are
millions of dollars in fraud going on at Green Hand and we're gathering evidence for the prosecution.
We suspect fake policies are being cashed in.
"

"And that's what got Dean killed?"

"Maybe."

"Not my report?"

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, Adam said, "No, your report has something to do with it."

I mustered indignation.
"I am not involved in fraud. I'm a temp!"

"I know. We ruled you out already."

"Well...
thanks. I guess."

"No problem.
We know the fraud is an inside job. Someone is leaking information out of Dean's department and that person is probably connected to Dean's murder."

"Really?" I must have sounded quite incredulous
. I mean,
the images of
Bob, Anne, or any of the other
inmates
as
fraudsters,
corporate spies
or
murderers
w
ere
n't exactly the most
fea
si
ble
.

"Yes, really. That's why I was assigned there. To get close to the staff and find out what's going on. Lucky for me, a job came up. The whole transfer was a set
-
up to get me in."

"So you're staying?" I sipped my
juice
and felt my eyelids tugging. I yawned and looked at my watch. It wasn't
late
. There was no way I could possibly be tired. I yawned again and set the
glass
on the table
, blinking hard
.

"Absolutely. Listen Lexi, where's the..."

My head swam and I started edging to my feet,
pushing my hands against the couch for a boost,
barely able to concentrate on what he was saying. "Adam, I don't feel too well,"
I sa
id. I stood up and swayed. Two
Adam
s
reached for me.
Then the world went black.

Chapter Three

The last thing I remember thinking before I passed out was
the bastard drugged me.

Waking, I stiffened
,
then cranked one eye open, first ridiculously grateful to be alive, then frightened, because I was alive and Adam had drugged me.

I opened the other eye and looked around, familiarity greeting me. I was in my bedroom, cocooned under my quilt and somewhere nearby, something awful
made
a hideous shrieking noise. I stuck out an arm, shivering as the cool air hit me and slapped my hand around the nightstan
d, finally finding my alarm. Fumbling, I switched
it off about two seconds before I was ready to hurl it against the wall.

The quilt felt strangely cozy against my skin and just as I was thinking about snuggling under for an extra nap,
and that this had all been a really sucky dream, I stopped and
peeked under the covers.

Like I feared, my dress
was
gone and instead
,
I w
as wearing
my shortie
pajamas
,
The ones with the duck print.

M
y cheeks heat
ed
.
It wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare and it was real.
Not only
did
Adam ha
ve
the audacity to knock me out and
tuck me
into
bed
,
but he'd
also
ap
p
a
rently undressed me and
put me in my PJs
!
And, I realiz
ed with horrifying clarity, my bra
was missing
. I froze.
Did
he
get
a good look? Co
p
a feel? Or done some kind of amazing feat of eyes-closed undressing
and dressing? My cheeks pinked.
Yep. I think we all know the answer to that one.
After all, h
e was a man.

A cursory glance around my room showed me that my dress wasn't just gone, it was missing. Maybe he
took
it for evidence? I groaned and struggled up on my elbows, feeling like my head was remarkably clear for someone who had been knocked out. It took me
another minute or two to realiz
e
I wasn't alone in my apartment. Footsteps padded between my living
room and kitchen. S
omeone
was
humm
ing
a song.

Sliding out of bed, I grabbed my short
,
silk robe from the armchair, wrapped it around me, and
scanned the room
for a weapon. I grabbed my lamp, popped the plug out of the socket and softly
tiptoed
to the partially open
bedroom
door.

Ducking my head out
, I shrieked blue murder when
I spotted
Adam
walk
ing
towards me.

"You're awake," he said simply
,
when I got a grip.
He smiled
and
looked pleased.

"You drugged me!" I raised the lamp and bent my knees, ready to spring forward and whack him hard if I needed to.

"I had to.
” He stood still. I noticed he
was drinking
from my coffee mug.
Of all the nerve!
“
You were freaking out and asking me too many questions and I had to go out. I needed to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid." See
?
I said he was
distrustful
, didn't I? Never
believed a word I told him
.

"How did you get back in?" I asked.

"Took your key."

"Did you sleep here?" In. My. Bed? My heart thumped.

"On the sofa," Adam
corrected
.

"Did you take my clothes off?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

"Eyes open or closed?"

"Closed."

I narrowed my eyes. "Really?"

"Well, yours were closed
!
"

"I am
so
embarrassed!
"

Adam’s lips curled upwards in a smile.
"Don't be. You
r
underwear
matched
."

"I know that. I'm just embarrassed you took my clothes off after drugging me. Does the PD
offer
seminars on that?"

"Of course not. Normally
,
I'd shoot you first." He rolled his eyes. "Kidding. Coffee? Very nice underwear, by the way. Pink. Cute."

I looked at him like he was a total idiot. "No, thanks."

"It's not drugged,
"
he promised, though he didn’t look exactly sorry.

"I'll make my own." A
s
I pushed past him to do just that, he sidestepped and somehow pressed
us
against each other
until
I couldn't move.
His proximity made my knees weak as I inhaled the scent of limes
wafting from
his skin. Perhaps
if I swooned just a little bit…
Hang on!
What was I thinking?
He drugged me and
now
I was thinking he looked mighty fine
?
"What time is it?"
I snapped,
feeling my face beginning to
flush.
I sniffed again. He smelled suspiciously like my shower gel.

"Seven. You need to get ready for work."

"So do you."

"I'm
ready." He was
too
, smug jerk
. He'd
already
changed his shirt and tie and even shaved.
Most likely
in my bathroom.
I sniffed
again
. He smelled like my toothpaste
too.

"If you'd drugged me
a little
less,
maybe I’d have
been ready by now too."

"I'm sorry."
Adam
replied as he
ran a hand down my arm, his eyes sparkling.

"Fine." But I was going to stay mad at him on principle. "Do we have to go?"
Wouldn’t it be te
e
ming with the police and crime scene investigators
?
I wanted to ask.

"Yes, we need to look normal, but..." He leaned forward and brushed some
stray
hair
s
behind my ear,
allowing
his fingers
to linger on
my cheek.

"But what?" I asked, looking up at him, straight into his blue eyes,
which were
piercing in the early morning light. I wondered what would happen if I stood on
my
tiptoes,
and
lifted
my chin up
ever so
slightly... T
hen, I remembered
…
I was supposed to be mad at him.
And he was still my boss… I think.

"Would you mind leaving the lamp at home?"

I'd forgotten about the dangerous weapon I
was wielding
,
so I handed it to him
. I
gave him a little push backwards so I could
pass him and go
into the kitchen
to
make a rousing cup of coffee
—
my morning drug of choice.

As I clattered around in the kitchen
,
pulling out a mug and sugar
,
and searching through the cabinets for anything edible, I found it hard to
stay
mad at Adam, if that
was
even
his real name
. He hadn't left me alone at the office. He hadn't left me to the mercy of the murderers and he
did make
sure I was safe all night. That had to count for something when I
weighed
it
against
the drugging. But
after
I thought about that
,
I decided that the open
carton of juice needed pouring down the sink and the open
bag of coffee may as well go in
to
the bin
too.
I'd buy a fresh, untampered bag later.

I showered
,
with the
door locked,
and dressed quickly in black pants, a
blue blouse and low heels. W
hen I came out of my bedroom, Adam was lounging against the wall, waiting for me.

“Where’s my dress?” I asked. “And my heels?”

“I got rid of them.”

“Is that legal?”

“Strictly speaking, no.” Adam paused as I inhaled crossly. “Do you want things with Dean’s blood on them, tying you to the scene?”

“No.”
             

Actually, despite the fact we witnessed a murder, had to escape
unnoticed
from a building with two psychos in it,
and knowing
he drugged and undressed me, it was
really
quite nice to go to work with someone.
However
, it was mildly embarrassing to run into Lily as she
left
the
building
at
exactly
the same time,
uncharacteristically early
for her.
She ran
her eyes over Adam
, and
then g
a
ve me a not very subtle wink, but I got over that pretty fast. He even bought me a muffin and a real coffee on
our ride
in
,
seeing as I refused to drink or eat anything
unsealed
that
he
might have
had
contact with
in my kitchen, which, unfortunately, meant pretty much everything.