Melinda Di Lorenzo - Undercover Refuge

It was all a game. Rush knew it. He was sure the other man thought of it that way, too.

But the difference between his awareness and mine is that I actually know what the object of the game is. He just thinks he does.

Rush adjusted his ball cap and met his boss’s eyes, deliberately avoiding a glance in Alessandra’s direction. No need to make an overt acknowledgment of her presence. If Jesse Garibaldi had something to say about her, he would.

“So. I missed our meeting,” Rush stated instead.

Garibaldi chuckled, then nodded toward the redhead. “Actually, it looks like you brought the meeting to me.”

Rush flicked a quick, indifferent glance in the woman’s direction. “I always thought you preferred brunettes.”

“Hey!” Alessandra protested. “I know what you’re implying, and I don’t—”

Garibaldi cut her off with another laugh. “Relax, Al. I’m afraid Rush’s manners are a little lacking, and his humor’s off-color.”

“You mean he’s a giant jerk?” the redhead snapped.

Now Rush did turn to face her, raising an eyebrow and speaking before he could think to stop himself. “A giant jerk who followed you into a hole in the ground just to save you.”

He tensed and waited for her to point out that he’d fallen in. Maybe to point out his somewhat foolish assumption that he’d thought she was tailing him through the woods. Instead, she scrunched up her face a little and turned to Garibaldi. Which irked Rush in the same way her nickname had. The two obviously knew each other well.

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to insult your friend. Even though he insulted me. ”

“Did he really jump in there to save you?” Garibaldi replied. “Sure doesn’t seem like his style. In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen this man do something that wasn’t to his own direct benefit.”

Rush snorted. “How am I supposed to get ahead if I’m always thinking about someone else?”

“True enough,” his boss said easily, then smiled at Alessandra. “Want to explain how you wound up in the hole in the first place?”

Rush stood back and waited—again—for the redhead to tell Garibaldi what had happened. Instead, she more or less left out his part in the events. She explained that she’d been lost, and that the final wrong turn had resulted in disaster.

Rush wanted to narrow his eyes. He had a feeling she was deliberately leaving out any mention of unintentional stalking and accusations of hit man status. He just didn’t know why. She sure as hell didn’t seem like the type who’d be interested in saving him a bit of embarrassment. Not that he couldn’t or wouldn’t play it off if she brought it up.

But still...

His gut told him she was hedging around the exact circumstances for some other reason. It made him more than curious, and he was so busy musing over it that he all but tuned out what Garibaldi was saying. It was only a very specific sentence that drew him back out of his own head and into the conversation.

“...so the two of you should be nice and cozy in the cabin,” his boss was saying. “It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

Rush felt his forehead crease. “What?”

“You hit your head on the way down, Atkinson, or what?” the other man asked.

“Feel like I must’ve,” Rush muttered.

He glanced at Alessandra. She had a strange mix of emotions on her face. She looked nervous and apologetic, and both of those were laced with a hint of defiance. It only made Rush frown harder.

He sighed. “Sorry, boss. Back it up. Who’s staying in a cabin? And why?”

Garibaldi gave him a truly speculative look, and Rush straightened his shoulders a little, cursing the fact that he was giving the other man a reason to question even a single aspect of his cover. He couldn’t afford doubt. He needed his so-called boss to trust him. To rely on him. To give him access to whatever the hell he was working on, so that Rush could catch him in the act and promptly throw him in jail.

It was Alessandra who broke the silence by clearing her throat and speaking up. “Jesse was explaining that things are pretty busy in town now that tourist season is in full swing. He’s got some business associates staying at his place. Which he forgot when he invited me up for the week.”

“Total brain lapse,” Garibaldi confirmed. “Anyway. I feel terrible, but Al drove five hours from up near Seattle, and I didn’t want her to turn around and drive home, which is why I texted—or tried to, anyway—directions to one of my private mountainside cabins instead.”

Rush said nothing. His mind was momentarily overloaded with more questions and concerns. There was pretty much zero possibility that Garibaldi had “forgotten” the hordes of people in town. The man had his fingers in every piece of tourism pie in all of Whispering Woods. From the five-star lodge to the seasonal rentals throughout the town to the companies that ran off-road tours in the summer and taught ski lessons in the winter, there wasn’t a single damned thing that didn’t have his name attached to it somewhere. He even owned 90 percent of the real estate along Main Street. It was all a front. A clever way to hide the money he brought in through his drug smuggling business. But he was far, far too smart to be genuinely unaware of the things that allowed him to do what he wanted. So why would Garibaldi invite a “friend” into town, only to not be able to offer her a place to stay? Who was she to his boss? Who was she, in regard to his boss’s business?

A shadowy lick of wrongness crept in, and Rush had an urge to roll his shoulders to rid himself of it. He forced himself to stay still, though, and spoke in a dismissive voice. “Still not seeing what this has to do with me.”

Alessandra’s cheeks were a bit pink. “Jesse thought I might be more comfortable with a tour guide.”

Rush went silent again. The lick of wrongness became a roar of malcontent that demanded attention. Every other oddity aside...why would his boss invite this woman here only to immediately pass her off? Rush kept his lips pressed together until Garibaldi clapped him companionably on the back.

“Told you I had a special assignment for you, didn’t I?” said the other man.

This time, Rush didn’t hide his grimace of dissatisfaction. “Not in the slightest what I had in mind.”

Garibaldi’s eyes turned sharp. “Maybe not. But it might be just the leg up you are after.”

Rush didn’t like the dirty tingle down his spine. He’d made no secret of his desire to move up in Garibaldi’s world, but he couldn’t think of a good or pleasant reason for this particular assignment to help that along.

He turned to Alessandra, expecting her to be an ally in the protest. After all, she’d come a fair distance only to be handed over to a stranger by the very man she’d come to visit. But if she had objections, she didn’t voice them. The oddity of it struck Rush almost as hard as the feeling that something was very wrong. He tapped his thumb against his knee. Just once. Then nodded.

“All right,” he said slowly. For show. Like he was doing everyone a favor. “I’ll do it. I’ll play tour guide. But it damned well better be worth my while.”

He spun on his heel, grinding his teeth together with very real frustration. Dirt kicked up around him, but he didn’t let the need to cough take over. He didn’t look to see how closely Garibaldi, Alessandra and Ernest followed him, either. Though he wished he could.

He wanted to spin, wipe the speckles of dirt from his face and demand to know what the hell was going on. He knew too well that any kind of reaction would’ve been out of place with his projected persona. If Garibaldi was testing him, he wanted to pass. So he just kept going, shoving his way through the woods with vigor.