Under Control (8 page)

With confidence, she headed down the sidewalk, moving with the midday pedestrians headed out for a late lunch or a bit of fresh air before finishing the rest of their days.

The street wasn’t a main one in the city but was filled with small businesses. She passed two pubs and a carpet store before she spotted the sign she was looking for. Pacific Pools and Spas.

Her heart skipped and shot off faster than ever. The authorities were turning the world upside looking for him. Surely the employees were wary of talking about him. Why would she say she was looking for him?

She’d rehearsed it a handful of times on the ride over but the words were gone, vanished with her nerves.
Guess I’m winging it.

She fixed her gaze on the front of the shop. Big glass windows filled with doll-sized model pools and a display rack of water treatment supplies. What the hell had Blaine been thinking to start this mess? He’d been a crappy boyfriend, but she’d never for a minute guess he was sick and dangerous.

Pausing outside the business, she fought her inner urge to bolt. Then her phone vibrated. It hadn’t taken long for the guys to find that note.

Scooting to the side of the façade, she shot off a response to Gabriel’s text chewing her out.
The eagle has landed.

Seconds later,
You’re getting spanked for this,
appeared on her screen. Excitement prickled through her body. Jeez, she had to get a grip. She was losing it.

Switching off her phone and dropping it into her handbag, she approached Pacific Pools and Spas. When she opened the door, the familiar scents of the place that had clung to Blaine hit her full-force.

Her pulse pounded in her temples, and she resisted the desire to massage them. She stared at the guy leaning against the front counter, speaking with a woman.

The man looked up. His face blanked for a minute before recognition dawned on him. “Jayla. Haven’t seen you forever.” His tone was reserved. He’d know what she was up to, and she’d prepared for it, expecting belligerence and refusal to answer questions. The workers of Pacific had probably been questioned several times by the police or harassed by the media. Nobody wanted to have an arsonist working for them.

She put on her best understanding smile and approached with her hand extended. “Hi, Alan. Good to see you again.” She’d attended a small office gathering at Christmas last year. His wife had made a killer crab dip, and Jayla would have liked to drop the whole bowl in her purse and make a getaway.

“How’s Shelly?” she asked, pumping his hand.

Wariness showed in his eyes. “She’s fine, thanks for asking. Look, I know what you’re here for.”

She inwardly winced at his harsh tone but called on any acting ability she might have buried deep inside. “So you know I’m working with my company on a claim filed concerning one of your pools?”

His face contorted as her words sank in. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before one of my guys didn’t adhere to codes. Come into my office.” He waved a hand toward the door behind the front desk.

She skirted the desk, throwing a quick “hi” to the secretary. Following Alan into his office presented a brand new feeling of dread in her. She didn’t want to be enclosed in a small space with a man she was pretending to investigate. One of the first things she’d learned in her job was people took offense easily, especially when accused of a wrongdoing.

“Please sit.” He took a seat in his own ragged vinyl office chair.

Taking the seat across his desk, she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “Thank you for sitting down with me, Alan.”

He stared at her. “You aren’t here to ask about Blaine?”

She shook her head. “You know what he did to me the other day, I’m sure. But this is another matter.”

Alan looked skeptical but tensed at the mention of the other issue. It wouldn’t surprise her if he was more concerned that he was facing a lawsuit than he was about his asshole employee using pool chemicals to start fires around the city.

She pushed out a controlled breath. “I’m here on behalf of Mutual Insurance. We received a complaint last Wednesday.” A day Blaine would have been working. “Apparently one of your employees came to check the levels of the owner’s pool and several items were missing when he left.”

“Stop right there. We have the owners sign contracts stating that they’re responsible for all their property while we look at their pool.”

“Yes, but a few of the missing items might interest you.”

“Why the hell would that be? I don’t care what they are. My guys didn’t take them, and I’m not reimbursing anybody.”

The house of cards that was her story wobbled. If she didn’t deliver this next lie perfectly, Alan would see through her charade. She pulled out her phone and flipped through a few bogus screens before pulling up the document she’d drafted on Joey’s computer and sent to herself.

She held out her phone for Alan to see.

“A length of rope, a bucket. What the hell kind of claim is that? Why would my guys steal rope or a bucket?”

“The owner didn’t think anything of the missing items until she saw on the news that the fire on Sixth Street originated in a bucket outside of the building. Rope was discovered half-burned, obviously used as a fuse.”

“Oh my God.” Alan’s face went deadly pale.

She dropped her phone into her purse again. “I can see you understand how sensitive this information is. We don’t want the press getting ahold of it and splattering Pacific Pools and Spas across the papers.”

Alan stood so fast his chair shot backward. “Look, Jayla, I don’t know anything about this stuff. It’s all on Blaine, and I haven’t seen him since that Wednesday.”

“But surely he’s come by for his check?”

“Direct deposited.”

She stood too, feeling cowed by the difference in their heights. She needed to get back on top of her game to finish this role. “He hasn’t come to work and nobody’s seen him?”

“No,” he barked. “You can tell your insurance people that we have no liability in this case. Our contract protects us.”

“Do you have a copy of your contract I can take back to them?” She had no use for it, and would crumple the paper and toss it straight into the first garbage can she passed. “And maybe you can provide me with a schedule for that week?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He started rummaging in his papers and came out with a few sheets. “I’ll just have Paula photocopy these and you can be on your way.”

That wasn’t a hint.

“Alan,” she said when he reached his office door. He spun back, agitation written all over the lines of his body. His shoulders hunched, and she almost felt bad for playing him this way. But it was life or death for some poor victim. “I lost touch with Blaine after we broke up. He moved, and I wondered if you might know his address now?”

He eyed her, and she realized she’d pushed her the limit of believability. “You want to go visit the man who tried to blow you up?”

“Well no.” She forced a laugh and then dropped her gaze to her fingers, which she twisted and untwisted as if stressed. Hell, she
was
stressed. “I thought maybe I could talk some sense to him, get him to give himself up before anything else leaks out. I’m only thinking of blow-back on you.”

His eyes bulged. “On me? I didn’t hand him those chemicals and tell him to go make a bomb or burn down buildings. This isn’t my fault.” His voice pitched louder.

“Oh I know. That’s why I need to speak with him.”

“Fine. I’ll find his address after I get these copied.”

Within minutes she walked out of Pacific Pools and Spas with the only information she’d walked in for. Blaine’s address.

Because she was headed over there.

Before Gabriel and Joey sent out a rescue team—or
became
a rescue team—she gave them a check-in text. They didn’t need to know she planned to visit Blaine in his own lair. They only needed to know that she was okay and on the move.

She hailed a cab and gave Blaine’s address. Part of her feared walking into her own demise. He wanted her dead, and his failure to kill her meant that he’d been identified. If she’d died, everyone would have believed she was some crazy woman or even connected her with the arson. But she’d screwed up his plans, and that would make him angry.

The cab crawled through the city, and her mind had precious time to wander. Of course, she wasn’t thinking of what to say or do if she found Blaine. Her brain was firmly back in Gabriel and Joey’s home.

In their bed.

She must have replayed the entire scene a dozen times already.

Four rough hands on her body, two steely cocks to play with. God, it was the best experience of her life. Whether or not it was temporary insanity was another thing. Surely she was suffering from some type of post-traumatic disorder.

But if she’d met Joey, say at the bar, and gone home with him? Would the outcome have been the same? They were gorgeous men, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off them. Their lives intrigued her, and she wanted to know more.

If she was honest with herself, she liked being part of their world.

While the cab made its slow way through town to Blaine’s apartment, she did some quick research on her phone. She looked up his mother’s address and his sister’s phone number. If his apartment turned out to be a dead-end, surely his family knew of his whereabouts. Of course, the cops would have thought of this too, and they’d be just as harassed as Alan had been.

But she had ways to wheedle information from people, and she planned to pull out all stops.

As they passed a certain building, a memory struck. “Stop the cab please!”

They came to a halt, and she quickly paid her fare and gave the driver a big tip. Then she hopped out and strode toward the coffee bar. She and Blaine had come here often because one of his old friends was a barista. With any luck, the woman would be working right now.

As soon as Jayla entered and caught a deep whiff of coffee-scented air, she drew gumption up from the soles of her boots. She had more acting to do, and this time she would play a victim of the media.

When it was her turn in line, she smiled at the woman behind the thick granite counter. “Hi, Abby.”

Shock crossed her features, followed by a jerk of awareness. Maybe she’d been tracked down by the cops and questioned too. “I don’t want to talk about any of it, Jayla. I just want to work in peace.”

Jayla spread her fingers over her chest. “Oh my, you aren’t thinking I’m here to… God, no. I can’t wait to get away from that crap! The cops have been on my back for days.”

She looked at her warily. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop for a coffee. I can’t believe you’re working this shift!”

“Well…okay. What can I get you?”

She placed her order, and Abby moved to gather a paper cup and write her name on it. Jayla tugged on her earlobe. Since the blast, she’d discovered that tugging her ear helped lessen the ringing. While she watched Abby create a thick foam over her drink and add a lid, she thought of her next move.

Most of what she’d done so far was off the cuff. But she had to watch she didn’t slip and ask questions about Blaine.

“Here you go.” Abby passed the cup over the counter.

She smiled widely. “Thank you. You make the best coffees. I’m so glad I ran into you today.” Leaning over the counter, she pitched her voice low. “What a mess I was in. What I need is a good dose of caffeine to soothe my nerves. You can’t believe the crap the media and cops were putting out there. God, you’d think I’m a Kardashian or something.”

Abby blinked. “You mean you didn’t tell the police all those things?”

She gave a short laugh. “I can’t keep up with all that was leaked to the press, but I do know that two interviews I read were
completely
wrong.” She couldn’t help but wonder if Gabriel and Joey would be surprised by her skill with lying. It was probably best if she kept it from them.

Right now, they were probably devising ways to get her back and deliver that spanking Gabriel promised.

“I don’t believe all that’s being said about Blaine,” she whispered. “He’s such a good guy. I don’t have to tell you how upset I was when we broke up, but I don’t wish anything bad on him.”

“I hear you,” Abby said, tilting her hip to rest against the counter and talk.

Jayla took a sip of her coffee. It
was
good, but she made a show of savoring it. When she opened her eyes, she pitched her voice low. “Have you…seen him at all?”

Abby shook her head. “I think he’s gone into hiding. I have no idea, because our mutual friends haven’t heard from him at all either. A group of us thinks he’s trying to clear his name.”

“I hope he’s not putting himself in danger.” She opened her eyes wide in mock concern.

Abby was sucked right in. “He’s pretty smart. He knows he can’t go home or go to work. They’ll be watching those places, waiting to catch him.” Shaking her head ruefully, she said, “I hate that this is happening to him.”

“And to me. I had to come clear across town to get a coffee without people harassing me with questions.” She’d gotten a few tidbits of information—enough, maybe. He hadn’t been going home, but she had no delusions that he was trying to clear his name. No, he was probably hunkered down, plotting his next fire or bomb.

A shiver of unease ran down her spine and seemed to freeze the blood in her veins. She took a fortifying sip of coffee. “If you hear from him, maybe you’ll give me a call? I think you have my number from that group message that time.”

“Yes, I do. Take care, Jayla. Come back whenever you like!” She fluttered her fingers and moved to take another order. Jayla fled the shop as fast as she could go without looking like a wild woman. She burned to run like hell.

Once she was outside, she swiped her hair out of her eyes. In her years investigating insurance fraud, she’d never used her acting skills this much. It sickened her that she even had the gift of lying, but she wasn’t going to question it now. She knew enough to head to Blaine’s apartment with confidence.

Reaching into her purse, her fingers brushed her cell, but she searched for another object. Her fingers rested on the cool metal tool, a trickle of her unease left her. When she broke into Blaine’s house, she wouldn’t be facing down the man who’d tried to kill her.