Chapter 11: You're Here Again
Trey was waiting for Mallory in her kitchen the next morning. She’d come down in just a robe, thought no one would see her.
She should have known better. Trey didn’t need much sleep
“Your system was way too simple to get past,” he said.
Her house smelled of coffee. He’d figured her system out the second time. Pretty good. “Made yourself at home?”
Trey shrugged in the doorway. “My hostess wasn’t awake to see to me.”
His gaze raked over her.
He didn’t say anything. No bother. She didn’t care. She had all the cards. He needed her. More than she needed him. In fact, she didn’t need him at all. Or want him.
“I need to get dressed.”
He followed her upstairs. His warmth heated up her back he was so close. His breath fanned across the back of her neck.
She entered her bedroom. “Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
His grin grated across her nerves and she resisted the urge to slap it off of him. He assumed she had feelings for him. She didn’t want to, so she didn’t
“Fine.”
She snatched a new outfit and marched into her bathroom, closed and locked the door.
“I could break this down.”
“I’m fully aware of that. I’m hoping you’ll respect my property. And my privacy.”
“Do you have an answer for me?”
“No.”
“No is the answer or you don’t have one.”
She’d shrugged into her clothes, brushed her hair into a neater pony tail then yanked open the door. Trey caught himself on the doorframe and a small smile adjusted his face.
The planes and angles that were Trey softened for a moment. He could laugh at himself, but it didn’t happen often.
“No, I’m not helping you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have to give you a reason.”
He took her arm in his hand. His touch was gentle, but firm, his hand warm, as if a homey hearth burned underneath his skin. “Yes, you do. You have a gift and you need to use it.”
“Let go of me.”
Each word came out distinct as she held back her temper. How dare he tell her what she had to do? He’d lost that right five years ago.
His stare bore into her for another second before he let go. “Come with me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t have to go anywhere with anyone. “Trey, I’m a private citizen now.”
“As long as you get a pension, the government owns you.”
“I’ll give back the pension.”
“Just like that.”
“Yes, just like that. If I’d known I’d be forever beholden to this organization I’d never have taken any money.”
He leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “And what will you do? You have no job skills. No work history other than a made up one and you think the government would keep that intact if you left for good.”
He bluffed. He’d do that if he were in a corner. She had the advantage and it filled her with joy. She fought to keep the smile off of her face.
She checked her hair then wiped a hand down her face. Make him think he’s getting to me. She blew out a breath.
“Nope.”
She walked out.
Trey caught her halfway down her stairs. “Nope?”
“That’s my answer. The government isn’t going to take away my pension. It isn’t going to do anything to me. I’d shout things I know from the highest rooftop.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’re too loyal.”
She chuckled. “And look where that got me.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She hadn’t planned on going down that road. She shook her head. “Never mind. I have work to do.”
“Yes. Catching this bad guy.”
“No, running a fair so a fire company can stay afloat.”
“Seems mundane compared to saving the world.”
As soon as Mallory walked onto the fairgrounds she knew something was wrong. Not the kind of wrong that would result in a bomb, but something was off kilter. It was too quiet. She expected a tumbleweed to roll by her.
No one sat under the beer tent. No workers waited for their assignments. A ghost town had appeared where a fair was supposed to be in seven hours.
A bay door opened, caught her attention. She turned that way. Cal Stedman came towards her, his face a cop face.
“Cal?”
“The cops came.”
This can’t be good. “Problem?”
He rubbed a hand down his face.
“Start at the beginning Cal. Let’s get out of the sun.”
She pulled him back in the direction of the bay he had just exited. He sat on the bumper and took a deep breath and seemed to collect his thoughts. He looked tired which was not his usual façade. “Just a few hours ago, the police came and took away most of the workers. Said they had to check their passports.” He cleared his throat. “I was just cleaning up the litter.”
She squeezed his shoulder. He’d been a cop so he knew the routine, but she bet it was different on the other side of the gun.
She blinked. Would Trey have moved in already? Didn’t seem like his style. “Where’s Jesse?”
“In his office, on the phone. He arrived just after they left.”
“Go home and take a nap, Cal.”
He nodded and then smiled, his game face on. She couldn’t get mad because the cops were just doing their job. But she could get mad at Trey
Jesse sat stared at the ceiling, a phone attached to his ear. He was either listening to a tirade or on hold. His hand shook. She’d never seen him so mad.
“What gives?” she asked.
He put the phone on speaker, dropped the receiver back in the cradle. “INS, I guess. No one is talking to me. Bud Cone’s at the Coleville PD trying to get answers. He insists none of his people are illegal and I’m inclined to agree.”
“Damn.”
“What? You look like you know something,” he said.
He rose and crossed to her as a female voice repeated announcements about the Centre County Prosecutor’s Office.
“No, I don’t know anything. Just because I was in law enforcement doesn’t mean anything.”
“You didn’t get a warning?”
She looked deep into his deep, brown eyes and told him the whole truth. She liked to be able to do that. “Nope. No professional courtesy. Most likely the detectives that were here had not idea this was going down.”
“Do you have an ‘in’ with the prosecutor’s office?”
“I could get in touch with the detectives I spoke with yesterday.”
“Try?”
“Of course. We need this fair to open tonight.”
Jesse rubbed a hand down his face. He showed signs of stress. “Don’t remind me. I’ve seen the bank book.”
She put a hand on his arm. “This may not be the time, but you might want to think about the suggestion to form a district and get a tax base.”
It would mean a steady income, but some loss of autonomy. She didn’t understand their reluctance.
He shrugged. “You know how I feel about that and so does most of the membership.”
“I won’t go there. Let me see if I can find that business card in my car. I’ll call him from my cell.”
A grin broke his face.
“You’re fantastic. Meanwhile, I’ll listen to this lady’s voice on the recording and hope someone answers.”
“Good luck.”