In a Fix (9 page)

Damn, I was getting sick of the hair-ruffling, head-kissing routine.

Maybe it was the Scotch doing my reasoning for me, but I decided this was a fine time to do something about that. So I reached up, dragged his face down to lip level, and planted a big one right on his mouth. I called upon some of my recently acquired job-related expertise and kissed him for all I was worth, slowly and thoroughly, working my body closer to his.

I pulled back before he did, which was somewhat gratifying. He looked totally stunned, which I chose to take as even more gratifying.

“Hey, Mark,” I whispered, savoring a power I’d never before felt around him. “I think your gerbil jumped.”

His eyes widened, and I could swear he was blushing under his tan.

“Good night,” I said before he could respond, and laid myself down on my bunk, my back to him. He didn’t say anything else, but a minute later a pillow and a blanket landed on me. I smiled. For once I’d gotten the upper hand with Super Spy.

*   *   *

The frigid shock of a piece of ice jerked me upright. I shook my T-shirt away from my back and glared lightning bolts at Billy.

“There. That ought to do it,” he said, removing himself to a safe distance.

Mark shook his head in wonder. “You are a brave, brave man.”

“Just a hungry one. If we don’t leave soon, I know we won’t have time to stop for breakfast,” Billy said, with emphasis on the final word.

“Breakfast?” I said hopefully, and yawned, tugging the oversized shirt down over my knees. I had ditched the pants during the night.

“See? She’s easily distracted from her murderous impulses by thoughts of food, especially if her brain hasn’t started functioning for the day.”

“Good to know,” Mark said. “Come on, Ciel. If you don’t hurry up, it’ll be daylight and you’ll have to put on Benjamin again.”

I dragged myself to the head. Anything to avoid that aura. After making quick use of the facilities, I did a cat-wash at the sink. Mark kept extra toothbrushes in the cabinet, thank goodness. Post-Scotch morning mouth was not a sensation I wished to live with for long.

Once I was clean, and as clearheaded as I was going to get before ingesting massive quantities of caffeine, I realized I didn’t have anything to wear. Shit. I did not want to assume Benjamin again just so something would fit—it would feel like putting dirty clothes back on after a bath. Yuck.

“Mark!” I hollered as I opened the door, holding a towel in front of me for decency’s sake. “I need—”

He was standing there with a small stack of clothes balanced on one hand like a waiter’s tray. I recognized them as some I had left on the boat after a day trip with Mark, my parents, and Thomas the previous summer. It was the spare set my mom had insisted I bring, she being sure I would fall off the boat at some point during our outing. She’s such a worrywart. (Okay, so I did fall off, but only once, and I dried off in the sun after Mark pulled me out of the bay, so I didn’t really need the change of clothes.)

“Bless your mind-reading little heart,” I said, and closed the door in his smiling face.

Mark’s face … smiling … lips …
Oh, shit!
Had I really?

I had. Goddamn Scotch. I knew I hated it for a reason. It was a treacherous drink, an
evil
drink, and it made people do stupid things. How was I going to look him in the eye again?

Chin up, that’s how
.
Face it head-on
. I slipped into my jeans, T-shirt, and green hoodie.
You look him right in the eye and …
I swallowed 
… and you pretend it never happened. Act like you don’t remember
.

Yep. Selective amnesia: the better part of valor.

I went back out to the main cabin, looking everywhere but at Mark. “Didn’t I leave some shoes here, too? I can’t wear Billy’s. They’d fall off my feet.”

“There—in the net,” Mark said. Nothing unusual or awkward in his voice. Good. This might work.

I found my old docksiders and slipped them on, sock-less. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Mark led the way. Billy got to the exit next, but stopped short of leaving. To play the gentleman, I thought, and let me go ahead of him. I should’ve known better. As I got closer, he puckered up and held out his arms.

“What are you doing?” I asked, not bothering to hide my exasperation.

“Waiting for my good-morning kiss. You gave Mark a good-night kiss. Fair is fair.”

“You saw?” Mortification now complete.

He shrugged. “Heard a thunk. Had to investigate.”

“Ass.” I slugged him as I passed. “That’s for the ice cube.”

“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his arm. “Sheesh. You are so grumpy before your coffee.”

Chapter 8

My company headquarters is located on the third floor of an old office building in the heart of D.C. I rent office space from my brother. As with my condo, no way would I be able to afford the primo location without the family discount. I think it’s Thomas’s way of keeping tabs on his little sister, and I should resent it, but he’s so damned nice about the whole thing I mostly don’t. Still, as soon as I was financially able, I’d be saying toodle-loo.

The only drawback to the current arrangement is that I’m surrounded by lawyers—no offense to anyone in the legal profession. If lawyers can be offended, that is. Thomas claims not; I’ll defer to his expertise.

When we got to the building, Mark pulled around back and parked in Thomas’s reserved spot, which took some major cojones. Nobody but my brother ever parked there, on pain of … well, I don’t know what, because to my knowledge no one has ever dared try it.

Billy unlocked the back door and quickly disarmed the security system. There was no sign of forced entry. Ditto the door to my suite, with its simple brass plate reading “Ciel Halligan, Facilitator.” (I still felt a burst of pride every time I saw that. My business might be small, and currently holding on by a financial thread, but it was
mine
.) When Mark punched in the code to open the door, I didn’t bother to ask how he’d come by it. Obviously, my life contained no secrets.

We passed through the tiny reception area, straight back to my office, which is minimally but tastefully furnished with leftovers from the lawyers who’ve moved to greener pastures. The dark, heavy wood of the antique desk, along with the burgundy leather chairs, gave an air of ancient reliability to the place, or so I told myself. It sounded better than “stuffy.”

First thing that caught my eye was the rock. In the middle of my desk, atop a piece of cream-colored parchment, was a smooth, black stone. It was about the size of my palm, with some sort of symbol carved into it. Mark zeroed in on it immediately. He gave me a questioning look.

“Well, it sure wasn’t there when I left for the Bahamas,” I said.

Mark stopped me when I would have reached for it, snapped a few pictures of it with his cell phone, and sent them whizzing off into cyberspace. Using a tissue from the box in my desk drawer, he lifted the rock by its edges and examined it more closely. “Looks Norse to me,” he said. “Probably wiped clean, but we’ll let the lab guys check it anyway.”

“What does the note say?” I asked, my stomach rerunning the sick feeling I’d had at my condo.

Billy read it aloud, leaving it where it was. “‘Dear Miss Halligan, please give this to Miss Worthington, as a token of our regard.’ That’s all, and then it’s signed with the same symbol as the stone. Now, what could that mean, do you suppose?”

Mark’s phone buzzed; he listened for a minute before disconnecting, placing the rock back on top of the parchment at the same time. “It’s a rune. Mannaz—the equivalent of the letter ‘m.’ It means ‘man.’”

“But why leave it here with me?” It didn’t make sense.

“Somebody wants Trey to know they’ve been following Mina. It’s a threat.” Mark’s mouth was grim, his eyes cold. He was pissed. “Howdy, check your files. See if anything’s missing.”

The room where I keep my backup computers and paper files was tiny, more like a large walk-in closet, and something in it was different. Not ransacked, like my condo, but disturbed. “Someone’s been in here,” I said.

Billy gave the room a once-over. “Yeah? Looks all right to me. How can you tell?”

“I’m not sure. But something is making the hair on my arms stand up.” I scanned everything, floor to ceiling. My eyes stopped on the bottom drawer of the last filing cabinet on the wall opposite the door. I pointed to it.

“There. It’s not quite closed. I always close the drawers all the way.” I shrugged. “It’s one of my things. So, unless one of you left it partially open after you were through pilfering my files…?”

“Nope, I’m not that sloppy,” Billy said, unapologetic.

Mark didn’t grace the suggestion with a response. Of course
he
wasn’t careless. He took a pen from a half-full box on one of the shelves and used it to open the drawer. The files looked the same as always—tidy. I may be a little messy at home, but I keep my office organized.

“I don’t see anything missing, but you better check for yourself.” He handed me the pen.

“Why bother? I’m sure you know them as well as I do.” I smiled sweetly. I think. Maybe I just bared my teeth.

“As a favor to me,” he replied, taking me by both shoulders and pushing me down to drawer level.

“All right, all right.” I shrugged his hands off, trying to ignore the tingle they left behind, and was as careful with the pen as he’d been. Damned if it would be my fault if the perp’s prints got smudged.

“Everything seems to be in order,” I said minutes later, after a careful perusal.

“Doesn’t really mean anything,” Billy said. “They probably made copies and put the files back afterward. Or faxed themselves copies from the handy little machine right there, like I did.”

I stood, planted my hands on my hips, and looked from one to the other. “We are going to have to have a talk. You can’t just treat my office like—”

“Later.” Mark took me by one of my jutting elbows and hustled me back into the main office. “Somebody’s coming.”

“Geez, what do you have, super hearing?”

He pushed me toward my desk. “Sit down and look busy,” he said quietly, and slid back into the file room. He left the door open a crack.

I finally heard it—footsteps in the corridor. Who would be coming in at this hour of the morning? Cleaning staff maybe, or some newbie lawyer trying to rack up billable hours.
Or whoever left the rune, still here in the building,
I thought, grateful I wasn’t alone.

The door to my reception area opened. “Ciel? You here?”

Ah. Thomas.

“Yeah. Come on back.” I met him as he came into my office. He pulled me into a bear hug instead of giving me the usual peck on the cheek. Medium tall, medium build, medium-brown hair. Gorgeous face. Why did all the men in my life have to be better-looking than me?

“What are you doing here so early?” I said when he relaxed his hold enough for me to breathe.

“I heard about the bungalow.” He held me away from him, examining me from top to toe. “Are you all right?”

“She’s fine. I told you I was going to drop her at your place after we checked her office. You could’ve waited,” Mark said when he and Billy joined us.

Thomas gave them both a hard look. “And I told you to keep Ciel out of your business.”

“Our paths crossed unexpectedly,” Mark said. “I had Billy keeping an eye on Ciel after I found out about her involvement with Mina Worthington. I was there, too, so she was never in any real danger.”

“Oh, yeah? Nearly being blown up isn’t real danger?” Thomas tended to puff up into full grizzly mode when he perceived a threat to his baby sister. I know it’s because he loves me, but it’s annoying as hell.

“A little close for comfort, you have to admit,” Billy said matter-of-factly to Mark, and ignored the flinty glance that followed. I guessed we weren’t going to bring up my close encounter with the kidnapper.

“Don’t worry. She’s officially uninvolved now,” Mark assured Brother Bear. “You take her for a few days while Billy and I get a handle on things.”

“Excuse me?” I turned on Mark and jabbed him in the chest with my finger. It might have made more of an impression had my fingernail been long enough to be felt through his shirt. “I am not an object to be passed back and forth between you
men
.” I swung back to Thomas and poked him, too. “Just because I rent space from you doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do. You’re not my father.”

“Shall I get him on the phone? Or maybe Mom? Would you listen to them?” God, I hate that reasonable tone lawyers invariably fall back on.

“No, no, and no! I can make my own plans and take care of my own problems.” I stopped short of stamping my foot.

“This isn’t your kind of problem, Ciel. Let Mark handle it.”

“Mina is
my
client, so she is, de facto, my problem.” I didn’t stick out my tongue either, but I wanted to. It is incredibly difficult not to revert back to childish behavior when you’re surrounded by the Boys Club.

“And you can deal with her any way you like, with Mark’s permission.”

“Uh-oh. Probably could’ve phrased that better, Tommy boy.” Billy was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, a smile playing at one corner of his mouth.

I rounded on him, finger out and at the ready. “And
you.
You’re no better than the nanny twins. Sneaking around, spying on me like I’m some incompetent boob who can’t keep herself out of trouble.”

He stood up straight, raising both hands in the air. “I surrender. You’re absolutely right, I couldn’t agree with you more. Men are pigs. Girl power!”

Grrr
. I stomped around to the back of my desk, drawing power from its massive proportions. “Get. Out. Of. My. Office.”

All three of them looked at me for about a second, and then went on as if I weren’t there.

“By the way, whose piece of shit is in my parking place?” Thomas said, his tone deceptively casual.

“That would be Mark’s,” Billy said. Mark changes cars the way most people change socks. Makes it harder to keep tabs on him, I guess.