No Quick Fix: Torus Intercession Book One, page 11
“Stop,” I said, breathing through my nose.
“Then you stop. I have my fuckin’ laptop.”
“Okay then, I sent you an email from Grant Cahill or Cahill Lumber—not sure how it came over.”
There was clicking on the other end. “I see it.”
“Well, I need you to hack the computer it came from for me, because I’m looking for anything about mining that Mr. Cahill is doing.”
“Who are these people?”
“I’m on a job in Montana, and I think the guy our client is mixed up with might be dirty.”
“Data mining?”
“No, regular mining, like for gold or whatever.”
“Ah,” he said, exhaling deeply. “Okay. Gimme a sec.”
At first glance, people would think Huck Riley was a rock star, and if not, then maybe an actor, and after that, a cowboy. He was the guy you stood on the sidewalk and watched walk by. He was that stunning. I had seen normal people lose their shit simply talking to him. Between the dimples and the raspy, smoky sound of his voice, blue-green eyes, thick golden-brown hair, and the body of an Olympic swimmer, he had women falling all over him. I would have as well, but Huck bent one way, and that was for girls. The thing was, though, with the outside being traffic-stopping gorgeous, no one ever suspected that underneath was a scary hacker.
There was silence as I heard more key tapping.
“Where is this computer, Fort Knox?”
“No, it’s his home computer.”
“He’s got some serious security here for a home computer.”
“That’s what I figured. I didn’t think for a second I’d be able to get in fast.”
“You wouldn’t be able to do it at all,” he snorted. “My ten-year-old niece is more techy than you, brother.”
I had no doubt.
“Oh, yeah, here we go. This is brilliant. He’s got video of you sitting at his computer.”
So the man was not so trusting, after all. “Can you delete that, please?” I said drolly.
“Already did.”
“I’m looking for a geological survey that had to have been done in the last few weeks.”
“Why?”
“Because the survey guy was murdered and then fed to mountain lions.”
Silence.
“Huck?”
“Fed to what?”
“You heard me. I couldn’t make that shit up.”
“Holy shit. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but you get why I’m looking into it.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said with a sharp exhale. “Okay, so there’s something here about a possible carbonatite deposit, which would be interesting.”
“And why’s that?”
“Well, because if the geologist suspects some rare earth elements, like say Cerium or Promethium or Yttrium, or something even better, then that could be serious money.”
“How?”
“Well, all those are used to make processors and chips for computers, and they’re basically the building blocks for high-end tech.”
“You’re dumbing this down for me,” I accused him, because he did that to me often. And usually it was for the best. He was a hardware guy all the way. I was not.
“No, it just doesn’t matter, because according to the report I’m looking at, something is there, yes, but there’s no way to know what without getting it out.”
Which is where the mining comes in, am I right?”
“Yeah. Mining, drilling, I have no idea the specifics, but it’s invasive to the environment, without a doubt.”
“Like you’d have to cut down a fuckton of trees to make this happen.”
“Absolutely.”
“Mr. Cahill told Emery that it was a silver deposit.”
“Is Emery your client?”
“Yeah.”
“So he lied, then.”
“Yes, he did.” I sighed because already Emery thought I was second-guessing Grant Cahill. This was not going to go over well, me digging around in the man’s emails, no matter what he was hiding. “Which complicates things for me.”
“I wonder why Cahill would say it was silver instead of carbonatite?”
“I’m not following.”
“I just mean, why say anything at all?”
“Well, he has to say something. The geologist was there for a reason.”
“But if he hadn’t died—”
“He was killed,” I corrected him.
“Yeah, but either way, someone would have seen him, right?”
“Possibly.”
“I’m gonna say, in a small town, that it’s probably likely.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that it’s weird that Mr. Cahill wouldn’t just tell Emery the truth. Why does it matter what’s there, silver or carbonatite or whatever. I’m guessing it wouldn’t matter either way to Emery. Mining is mining, and I imagine that’s what he doesn’t want.”
“Maybe the process for mining one is less invasive than the other, and he’s thinking he could sell Emery on going after silver if that’s easier.”
“I doubt it.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know.”
“True,” he agreed. And then he added, “It’s terrible that this man is going behind your client’s back like this.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Maybe he’ll come clean.”
“He had the opportunity tonight and didn’t.”
“That’s too bad, but either way, carbonatite is mentioned in the report as a maybe but not a for sure. He talks about meeting with this guy—this Peter Bannon—to discuss in more detail so that’s probably what he did.”
It wasn’t concrete and certainly not enough to get Emery to turn on Mr. Cahill. And was that for the best anyway? Just because Andrea Dodd didn’t want mining didn’t mean it was a deal breaker. And why was I thinking that the best thing for Emery was not Lydia? Who was I to say? I didn’t know either of them well enough.
“Makes you wonder how this Peter Bannon ended up dead.”
“And why?” Huck added.
“The why is the sticky part.”
“I would think so.”
“Which is why the police were out here tonight questioning him.”
“You might need to tell them what you know,” he apprised me.
“But Emery already knows Cahill met with Bannon, and that’s all I know too.”
“But you can provide a motive for Cahill to kill Bannon.”
“Maybe. It’s kinda thin if we don’t know what exactly is in the ground, or if it’s actually worth anything.”
“That’s true too.”
“Can you just monitor his email for me, and if anything more is said about the land, you’ll let me know?”
“’Course.”
“Thanks, Riley,” I said playfully, using his last name. “I appreciate it.”
He grunted.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Something,” I countered, concerned now. “What?”
“You’re fine, right?”
“What’re you—”
“I mean, you’re not doing something stupid, snooping around all by yourself.”
“No. I have you for backup.”
“I’m not close enough to be your backup unless you need me out there.”
I thought a second. “Why don’t you?”
“So you do need backup.”
“Are you working?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, then, take a vacation from looking for work and come visit.”
“Yeah, but you’re on a job.”
“I’ve got all kinds of time. The kids go to school. My nights’ll be free.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said, but I could hear the worry in his voice.
“There’s no pressure. If you’re not up for it, it’s okay.”
“I don’t like the idea of you all alone in a place where a guy was just killed and fed to wolves.”
“Mountain lions.”
“That’s so much better.”
I snorted. “It’s a small town. Nothing ever happens here.”
“Famous fuckin’ last words,” he growled at me. “What’d I tell you?”
“Never to tempt fate.”
“You need to listen.”
It had always been my weak spot. “Absolutely.”
“Goodbye,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve got this.”
“Never a doubt in my mind,” I said and hung up.
The girls were both staring at me. “What?”
“I think I’m gonna starve to death,” Olivia assured me.
“You had PB and J,” I reminded her, being as snarky as her sister had been to me earlier.
“Yeah, but that was a billion years ago, and I’m hungry again.”
“There’s an awesome diner that makes shakes and burgers and egg salad,” April announced, looking up at me expectantly, eyebrows lifted.
Crossing the room, I crouched down beside them.
“You heard them earlier; they have some kind of dessert Lydia thinks you guys are gonna like, so how the hell are we gettin’ outta here?”
“Watch the master,” April said, waggling her eyebrows at me.
Olivia snorted. “She’s really good.”
Following them out and over to their father, who was sitting in a circle of chairs with everyone, April tapped him on the shoulder and waited. When he turned to give her his attention, everyone got quiet.
“Dad, I need to go because I forgot, but I have to do some more reading for my vocabulary test on Monday.”
“Oh, but sweetie, we’re having baked Alaska for dessert,” Lydia said cheerfully. “You’re going to love it.”
“As much as the salmon?” Olivia choked out.
I bumped her, and she whined and turned into me, her face in my stomach.
“Kids,” April said, shrugging, making her eyes big.
Everyone chuckled over that except Emery, who met my gaze with narrowed eyes. He knew we were up to something.
“So we’ll just go and get out of your hair,” I suggested with a grin that was way over the top before flicking April on the shoulder and taking hold of Olivia’s hand to lead them back toward the front coat closet.
“Your family is leaving,” one of the men said, and Emery was up and following us as I got the girls’ coats and mine.
“You aren’t fooling me one bit,” he said as the three of us stood in front of him all bundled up.
“What?” I drawled innocently as I pulled Olivia’s beanie down and passed April hers. “Up to? Dude… vocabulary, studying. You heard her.”
“And you?” He put his hands on his hips as he scowled down at Olivia.
“Mr. Ozumi said that if Brann wanted to, he could teach crab manga and bazillion juggling at his school, so he’s gonna show me some moves.”
Emery’s gaze lifted and met mine. “Crab Manga?”
“Small child,” I said, giving him an exaggerated wink.
Reaching up, he slid his hand around the side of my neck and his thumb traced over my jaw. I had no idea if he knew how he was touching me. From the fond expression on his face, not infused with even a trace of lust that I could see, sadly, he did not. But I felt the connection of his gentle touch, regardless, and it went straight to my cock. There was no doubt about it. Emery Dodd could light me up like a Christmas tree.
My breath caught, and I chuckled to hide the cough of discomfort. And before my clothes got any tighter and my skin any hotter, and before I leaned in to give him a kiss goodbye—because I should, shouldn’t I?—I took several steps back. I was leaving and taking his kids. It seemed natural to give him a peck, but before everything got weird—weirder—I bolted for the front door. I had to put some space between us.
“Come on, people, let’s motor.”
He was still standing there when we left.
I had assumed someone would run Emery home at the end of the night, but maybe he’d sleep overnight with Lydia.
Which was fine.
Totally fine.
Utterly fine.
I had no problem with that.
Not a one.
“Brann, are you sick?” Olivia asked me as I drove us to the diner.
“What?” I snapped at her, defensive, wound-up, feeling like I couldn’t breathe.
“You look like you’re gonna barf,” April seconded from the passenger seat.
“What?” I said like she was nuts.
“How come your voice went up so high?” Olivia wanted to know.
“You almost squeaked,” April added, squinting at me.
It was just so weird. I didn’t have feelings, and I didn’t get attached, and definitely was never, ever, jealous before I even got laid!
What the ever-loving fuck was going on?
And fast. Holy fuckballs, fast. I never, ever, ever had any interest in anyone after less than a day. Yes, I’d taken guys off a dance floor and fucked them in a bathroom many times in my life, but this was not that. This was…. I had no idea what this was.
I tried to drag air into my lungs, but my skin felt hot under my clothes even as I shivered in the heated air blowing from the car’s vents.
“Maybe we should pull over in case you gotta throw up,” April said calmly before leaning over to pat my knee.
“I’m not sick,” I grumbled, scowling at her.
She didn’t look convinced.
At the diner, we had to wait, and as we sat there, April beside me with Olivia on my lap, people came by and said good job at the soccer field or good job helping Jenny Rubio or how wonderful I was for helping out Emery, as he’d been alone for so long.
A man and woman sat across from me with their three kids, and out of the blue, the man just struck up a conversation about life in Ursa.
“Don’t mind him,” his wife said, smiling kindly at me. “When you’re the fire chief, these PSAs sort of come naturally.”
It was funny, but I’d had some ideas about Montana before I got there, and the diversity I was seeing wasn’t part of it. The man I was talking to at the moment was black, his wife white; there was Captain Noguchi and Sergeant Tavares, from earlier, and all the little girls at the karate school, who’d been a mix of skin colors and ethnicities. And while it was nice, I wondered if it was the norm, because that would go a long way to making me feel comfortable.
Ever since the Navy, I’d been surrounded by people in every size, shape, and color and found that I functioned best with diversity. It was just another reason why I liked Chicago—lots of different kinds of folks walking around. It was interesting, but the more I was in Ursa, the more I liked it.
“What’s your most regular call?” I asked Chief Parkinson, who had introduced himself and his wife, Carla, to me.
He sighed deeply. “Cats in trees.”
“You’re serious?”
He grunted. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice warehouse fire.”
Carla elbowed him in the ribs, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m kidding,” he qualified and then looked at me and shook his head. So not kidding. I liked him already.
At the booth, I realized the menu was under the glass on the table and when our waitress showed up, on roller skates, I asked her about the special.
“Pot roast,” she said with a smile, “but don’t get it.”
“No good, huh?”
She shook her head. “Have a sandwich or the chicken pot pie or the meatloaf. The meatloaf is great, and so is the gravy.”
“I’ll have that and a huge iced tea,” I replied, turning to April. “Whatcha gonna have?”
“I can have anything?”
I scowled at her. “Within reason.”
“Define reason.”
“Maybe not a chili cheese dog with chili cheese fries, huh?”
“Why?” she asked, grinning up at me.
“Lots of gas,” I explained, grinning back. “Think of all the farting.”
She dissolved into giggling, as did Olivia.
The girls had shakes—April chocolate and Olivia strawberry—and Olivia ordered a cheeseburger that I was amazed at the size of. April got a pastrami sandwich that was bigger than her head. I had to help her clean up the pastrami, and I broke down and had a root beer float, and then we were all miserable on the ride home. To help, we took Winston for a walk, and once we were in, I sent them to take showers while I turned on the TV and flipped through Netflix.
Once they were both done, they joined me on the couch in their pajamas and socks, and I had a kid snuggled into each side with a dog in my lap, when Olivia told me to open Amazon on the TV so we could watch a movie. With how late it was, sometime after eleven, I knew they wouldn’t make it long. We ended up on Home Alone and as I predicted, they were out cold minutes later. Since I didn’t want to wake them, I stayed where I was.
Sometime later, there were fingers combing through my hair, over and over, and it felt really good, tender but with just enough tug to let me know that it was a man touching me and not a child.
“Hey.”
My eyes opened slowly, and I realized Emery wasn’t in front of me, but behind me, and his warm breath on my ear meant that his lips had to be only a hairsbreadth from my skin.
My groan was pure agony.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he said softly, his hand on the back of my neck, squeezing gently. “But if you sleep like this, you’ll be broken in the morning.”
“Compared to some places I’ve slept, this would be heaven,” I told him.
“Oh, I’m certain of that,” he said with a sigh, coming around the couch to sit down on the coffee table in front of me. “But you’re not in combat anymore, so you should treat yourself a bit better, don’t you think?”
I grunted, and his smile was my reward, big and bright, all that warmth focused on me. There was so much genuine fondness, and it was a revelation because no one I’d ever met in my life showed their emotions so easily. He hid nothing, and it was refreshing, as I’d lived most of my adult life around people who either chose to or had to.
“Let me get up,” I said, my voice gravelly because I was only half-awake. “I didn’t mean to fall—”
“You’re fine,” he assured me, hand on my knee for a moment to keep me still.
It was amazing that he could simply sit there and be close to me and not feel awkward about being in my space. Like it was natural and comfortable and not giving him the heart palpitations that it was giving me.
