Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

She felt Paul jerk in reaction to Dev’s voice, but she didn’t have time to think about that. She whipped open the door and ran inside.

“Dev.” She hugged him tightly, but carefully. “You’re out of the hospital. Are you okay? Are you—”

He laughed and hugged her back as he interrupted her. “Hold on, little cuz. You go too fast. I’m fine. I mend quick, and I’d been better if I’d’a remembered GoodMama’s warning to me. She tol’ me not to go see you, to jus’ call.”

Torie caught her breath. “Oh, Dev.”

“Yeah, call me a horse’s ass. Might as well.” He grinned a bright, wry grin. “She did, and a whole lot more.”

“She told me to watch out for fire, but I didn’t have time.”

“I know.” Dev’s smile faded. “I’m sorry ’bout that.”

“Not your fault.”

“No, but…”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Besides, it’s had some benefits.” Dev turned his dazzling smile toward Pam. “I got to meet this lovely friend of yours.”

Torie looked at Pam’s face and her heart sank. Pam was hooked. Damn. On Dev of all people. This was so not good.

Paul cleared his throat.

“Oh, sorry. Paul, this is my cousin from New Orleans, Devereaux Chance, also known as Dev. And you remember Pam, don’t you?”

“Your cousin?” Paul asked, looking relieved about something. “Pleased to meet you. I heard you were hurt.”

“Dev was cut up pretty badly,” Pam volunteered. “But he’s healed with amazing speed.” Torie saw the sly twist to her smile, just before Pam dropped her gaze. Crap, they were sleeping together. Pam never slept with anyone, she just dangled the lure and the men followed her anywhere.

The fact that she had actually slept with…no, she could not think about Dev in bed with her best friend. It was just…wrong. Not to do it, just for her to be thinking about it.

Cripes. There was that image again, popping into her head. Nope. Not going there.

Meanwhile, the two men were shaking hands.

“So, you’re the attorney, eh?” Dev said, eyeing Paul. “The one that was the best man, right?”

“That was a long time ago, Dev. Water under the bridge.”

“There are some long bridges, where I come from, cher cousine. Plenty of time to dip some water.”

“No, there isn’t,” Torie said flatly. She was not going to referee some stupid male dominance battle, nor let her cousin defend her over long-ago slights. Much as he obviously wanted to, which was sweet. Hadn’t she already dredged up enough of the past, shouting at Paul? “I let the water flow, Dev, and I’ve moved on.”

“Hmmm.”

She glared at him. “Water. Under the bridge. Done. Over. My battles, Dev. Remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, cher. I read you loud and clear,” he said with a laugh. He shot Paul an amused look. “She defends you pretty good, counselor.”

Paul nodded, but didn’t respond. He nodded at Pam. “Pam, long time, no see.”

“All the better,” Pam managed without a smile.

“Pam, you said it was urgent.” Torie redirected the budding blowup. She knew Pam and, new beau or not, she’d always wanted a chunk of Paul Jameson’s hide. It had been Pam who had helped her pick up the pieces of her college life, Pam who had made sure she survived the heartaches. Pam was the one who had introduced her to Todd.

Instantly contrite, and distracted from Paul, Pam responded. “Oh, it is. He got away. I don’t know how.”

“Where’s Carlos?” Now Torie was deeply worried.

“Out hunting him.”

“How did he get out?”

“It was a mistake. He’d been doing so well.” Pam was pacing now, her worry prompting her to move. “I wasn’t ready to move him yet. I don’t have a home lined up.”

“The family in Harrisburg fell through?”

“Yeah, they paid more to someone else, but they got reliable merchandise, you know?”

“But this boy is reliable. We know that. You can’t do all that, and oh…” Torie wanted to cry all over again. It was bad enough that her life was totally screwed. She hated that this little project was going to hell in a go-cart as well. “I had so hoped that home would work and work quickly. Carlos has done so much.”

“Carlos hasn’t minded the work. He used to be a tech, you know?” Pam replied. One part of Torie’s brain noted that she was pitching her voice like Dev’s, and using the same rhythm and speech pattern that her cousin used.

Bad sign.

“Stop.”

Torie turned to Paul, reacting as much to his firm, irritated tone as she did to the word.

“What?”

“What are we doing here that’s a matter of life and death? Who is Carlos, and what or who is he hunting?” Paul ticked the points off on his fingers. “Oh, and last but not least, what the hell do you have to do with it?”

Torie looked at Pam, who managed to look sheepish. Dev had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking amused, but was apparently just as interested in the answer as Paul was.

When she shot a questioning look Pam’s way, her friend shrugged. “I hadn’t had a chance to explain to Dev either. I just told him where to meet me. Carlos nearly took Dev out with a baseball bat before we got him to listen.”

“I thought you said he was reliable?” Torie was aghast. First her cousin was attacked because of her, now this.

“He is, but he’s nervous now. There’s been a lot of…” Pam glanced at Paul. “Snooping around. Neighbors and stuff.”

“Torie, who the hell is Carlos, why is he looking for someone out in the dark, and why are you—” he turned a hot, angry look toward Pam—“involved in finding someone a home? For money?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I sure as hell hope not, because what I’m thinking could get you twenty-five years in jail.”

“No, it’s—”

There was a banging from the back of the house, and within seconds, the door to the living room burst inward. An excited Carlos bounced into the middle of the fray. Torie barely recognized the suave restaurateur in the mud-covered, wild-haired man standing before her.

“Pam, you must, oh—” He stopped at the sight of Paul in his city lawyer suit, and Torie in her business attire.

“Carlos, this is my friend Torie, the one I told you about. And this is her…friend, Paul.”

“You, I recognize you.” Carlos looked at Paul. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Yes.”

“I hate lawyers.”

“So do I,” Paul said, his tone flat, with no hint of humor.

Carlos stood for a moment, considering. Then smiled.

Then laughed.

So did Dev.

Pam rolled her eyes, but Torie smiled. Male bonding was weirder than anything women came up with.

“Where is he?”

“Come, I’ll show you.”

She moved to follow, but Paul blocked her way.

“You are not going anywhere until you answer my questions.”

“I’ll back you up on that,” Dev said, stepping up beside Paul. “I think we’d better hear this story from the beginning.”

“There’s no time,” Torie said, attempting to push past them.

“No.” Paul’s voice was stone hard, and she could see Dev taking on the same stance.

Chapter Eight

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Torie began.

“It’s a dog,” Pam snapped. “Now get out of the way.”

Together the two women pushed passed the gaping men to follow Carlos through the house, out the back door, and into the darkness.

“Well, damn,” Paul said. He turned to Dev. “Did all that cloak and dagger talk sound like they were talking about a dog?”

“Hell, no.”

“Jesus, she drives me insane. You coming?”

“No.” Dev grimaced. “Not this mission, Kemo Sabe. I’ll do more harm than good.”