Off Course, page 17
“It’s definitely worth seeing,” Decker said.
Holly’s eyes widened. “You’ve been?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a…” He glanced down and away before finishing with, “A friend who lives in Chelsea.”
“Do you visit them much?” Becs asked.
“No. Only once.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze as he shifted the topic and looked at Holly. “I took the subway to the memorial. It’ll take your breath away, that’s for sure.”
Becs grabbed her phone and pulled up Brantley’s number to send him a text.
I doubt it means anything, but I recalled a convo with Decker. He mentioned having a friend who lives in Chelsea.
His response came quickly.
Any chance he gave you a name?
Unfortunately, no. Like I said, I’m sure it’s nothing, but he seemed kinda … off when he mentioned them.
Guy? Girl?
He didn’t say.
Feel free to research and see if you can find something. Let us know if you do.
OK.
Becs set her phone on the desk and looked at the computer at the same time it dinged with a notification from the messenger app.
JJ: Good question on the accounts, Becs. I’ll follow up with Z. I asked him for the information yesterday. If he doesn’t have it, I’ll bypass him.
Becs: Let me know if you need me to run with it. I’m happy to.
She leaned back and stared at the computer. Most of her job entailed a lot of back and forth, digging deeper into each layer they uncovered until something made sense. Unfortunately, in this particular case, whenever something started to, it went in an entirely different direction.
With a sigh, she looked at the clock. It was a little after five, so she should probably call Kaye and check in to see how Carly was doing. Before she picked up her phone, she remembered New York was an hour ahead, meaning it was only a little after four in Texas. She would give it some time before she called so she could talk to Carly when she was ready for bed.
Until then, she would do a little research on what was in Chelsea.
***
“You’re welcome to sleep here,” Slade offered as Evan stood near the door.
Evan had come to Slade’s hotel room, hoping he could convince them to let him sleep on the sofa. Turned out Atticus was sleeping there since the room didn’t have two beds. For a brief moment, he considered sleeping on the floor but changed his mind as soon as the thought formed. If he did, he would likely be in a world of hurt tomorrow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d crashed on anyone’s floor. College, maybe.
“I’d offer to trade,” Atticus said, looking up from his phone. “But I don’t wanna weird Becs out. She’s cool and all, but I don’t really know her.” Atticus’s gaze swung to Slade, and he grinned. “Then again, you’re the one who’s got the hots for her. Maybe you wanna give it a shot.”
Evan looked at Slade. “What’s he talking about?”
“Nothin’,” Slade said quickly.
Was Evan crazy, or was Slade blushing?
“He couldn’t take his eyes off her last night.” Atticus laughed. “Then again, half the guys in that club were starin’ at her in that dress.”
What dress?
Slade shook his head. “Trust me when I say it ain’t like that.”
Atticus laughed. “Are you scared of her or what?”
Evan waited for Slade to answer until he realized Atticus had directed the question at him.
“What?”
“You obviously don’t want to sleep in her room. Did she do somethin’ to freak you out?”
“Of course not.”
Atticus sat up, looking between Evan and Slade. “Seriously. I’m happy to talk to her. I can be polite when I need to be.”
“No,” Evan said quickly, getting to his feet. “It’s cool.”
He picked up his bag and headed for the door. He was being an idiot. The last thing he wanted was for the team to think he had a problem with Becs. It was bad enough Luca was openly treating her like a leper. If they thought Evan was bothered by her, someone might start to get the wrong impression.
Truth was, Evan didn’t have a problem with Becs. His problem was that he liked her, and at the moment, he wasn’t sure where things stood between them.
“Well, if you change your mind, you can grab a patch of carpet,” Slade offered. “We can get extra blankets and pillows.”
Evan nodded as he opened the door and stepped into the hall.
He knew Becs was on the sixth floor because that was the button she’d pressed in the elevator earlier. As he started down the hallway toward the stairs at the end, he shot her a text, asking for the number. Her response was immediate and contained only the room number, which he figured didn’t bode well for him. She was obviously upset after their argument on the street earlier. In all fairness, he could’ve handled it better, but he’d panicked when she’d gotten defensive.
Or maybe he was the one being defensive. Evan was a rational man. If he were wrong, he could admit it. And in this case, he honestly couldn’t say. He hadn’t liked a woman in so damn long…
He walked slowly, trying to come up with a way to smooth the waters. They had to work together, and as close as the team was, they would pick up on the tension immediately if he didn’t fix this.
Perhaps he should consider pushing Becs in Slade’s direction. Although his partner had rejected the idea, Evan knew him well enough to see the interest on his face when Atticus mentioned her name. They were certainly a far better pair than he would make with Becs. For one, they were the same age. Evan was eight years older than her. He had no business wanting a woman that much younger.
He arrived at Becs’s room. Evan lifted his hand to knock, then dropped it, pacing away from the door.
If he hinted that Slade was interested, he could see her reaction. If she was keen on the idea, Evan could nudge her in that direction.
So what if the idea of her with Slade made him want to put his fist through the wall? Becs deserved someone who wasn’t battered and broken, and Evan had been that way for so long that he’d gotten used to it. She deserved someone who would worship at her feet, and Slade was the kind of guy who would put his woman before all else. There were things in Evan’s life that took precedence over everything else. And he wasn’t talking about Sophia, although she was at the top of his priority list. No, there were other things. Things that would certainly interfere if he ever let himself be in another relationship.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to the door. This time, he let his knuckles meet the wood.
“Yes, hello,” Becs said as she opened the door.
At first, Evan thought she was talking to him, but then he saw she was holding her phone to her ear.
“My name’s Gladys Overwith, Decker Bromwell’s assistant. I’m looking at his credit card statement, and it looks like he stayed at your hotel the last time he was in Chelsea. I think there might be a problem. It looks like he was charged for two rooms. Can you confirm that for me?”
She walked away, so Evan stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have that information. Mr. Bromwell…” She laughed softly. “Well, to be honest, Mr. Bromwell’s not very good at keeping track of his receipts. I know he likes to stay there, so there’s a good chance he’s stayed more than once.”
Evan watched as Becs paced the room, her phone to her ear.
“July eighteenth?” She stopped walking, a frown marring her forehead before it cleared, and she continued. “Now that you mention it, that does sound about right. Can you tell me how many nights he stayed? I only expected him briefly, so the charge seems high. That’s why I thought he got charged for two rooms.”
Evan watched as Becs listened to the person on the other end of the phone. She walked over to the desk and began jotting something on the notepad.
“Yes. Uh-huh. Can you tell me this? Did he check out through the in-room system or at the desk?” She laughed, and while he could tell it was fake, he doubted the caller could. “He’s always telling me they didn’t give him a receipt. That’s his excuse for not giving it to me.”
She laughed again, smiling as she stared at the wall and listened to the caller.
“At the checkout desk. I knew it. I’m gonna have to water down his coffee for a week as payback. I knew he lost the receipt.” Becs laughed again. “That’s perfect. Thank you.” She stood tall. “Actually, yes. If you’d send me a copy of that receipt, that would be great.” She rattled off the email address. “Yes, thank you. You, too.”
She disconnected the call and grinned.
“Gladys Overwith?” Evan prompted.
Her grin widened. “Yeah. You know. Glad it’s over with,” she enunciated slowly. “Gladys Overwith. It’s a name we use when calling for information that we probably shouldn’t be privy to.”
“And the email address? Is it real?”
“Yep. We can thank JJ for that. It comes in handy at times like this. He would’ve been suspicious if I didn’t want a receipt since I’m reconciling Mr. Bromwell’s credit card statement and all.”
Evan set his bag on the floor by the door.
“It only took four calls for me to find the right hotel.” She leaned over and jotted more notes on the notepad.
“Right hotel for what?”
“Where Decker was staying. In Chelsea.”
Evan frowned. He got the feeling there were details he was missing.
“Oh, sorry.” She took a breath and sat in the desk chair. “I recalled a conversation we had at HQ. Me, Holly, Luca, Darius, and Decker. We were talking about places we wanted to…” She waved a hand. “Never mind. That’s not important. Decker mentioned he had a friend in Chelsea. I only remembered it because he seemed off when he said it. Like, he didn’t mean to mention it at all. But he did, so I thought I’d see if that friend was what brought him to New York this time. I still don’t know if they were, but I did find out he checked into the Holiday Inn on July 18th and checked out on August 1st. He stayed for two weeks and checked out himself. At the front desk. Which means he likely wasn’t under duress at the time.”
Evan had to admit that was quite a bit of information she’d managed to obtain with a very simple question.
“I need to let Brantley know. I think we should go over there and check it out.”
“Let’s go,” Evan said.
“What?”
“You and me. Let’s go check it out. If we find something, we can call Brantley and tell him.”
Becs stood slowly, her grin growing wider by the second. “Seriously?”
“Sure.”
Her eyes danced with excitement. She morphed from being pretty to being downright gorgeous right before his eyes.
Evan felt that strange churning in his stomach. Suddenly, pushing her in Slade’s direction seemed like the worst idea in the history of ideas.
Chapter Eighteen
If Atticus didn’t know better, he’d say Slade was acting weird. Like the kind of weird that made it awkward to be around him.
“Hey, are you pissed that I told Evan you like Becs?”
Slade shot him a sideways glare.
“Look. I didn’t mean to blurt it out. Sometimes shit comes outta my mouth before I can think it through.”
“I don’t like Becs,” Slade said, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed.
Atticus backed up a step, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Got it. You don’t like her. I’ll never mention it again.”
He exhaled and dropped his hands, considering taking the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator while the air chilled to negative temperatures. It was safe to say Slade was definitely acting weird. Or if maybe not weird, he was acting very … unSladelike.
But then the doors to the elevator opened, revealing, guess who? Becs, who Slade doesn’t like, and Evan. Woohoo.
“Fancy meetin’ you here,” Slade said. “Where’re y’all headed?”
Atticus stepped in and to the side, leaving space in front of the doors as he waited for one of them to answer Slade.
Becs looked at Evan.
“To Chelsea,” Evan said flatly.
“Chelsea?” Slade glanced between the pair. “To do somethin’ fun?”
“To chase down a lead.”
“No shit?” Atticus stood up straight.
Chasing down a lead beat going to the hotel bar with Slade, whose attitude was snippy because he didn’t like Becs.
Sure, Atticus could’ve gotten past that part, but that wasn’t his only issue with the man. A small part of him was still a little pissed at Slade for his reaction at Moonshiners the other night.
Atticus smiled at Becs and Evan. “Want company?”
“Sure,” Evan stated, his eyes straight ahead as though looking at them would cause physical pain.
“Are you sure we didn’t interrupt somethin’? Slade asked.
Becs’s smile was forced at first, but then her expression softened. “Not at all.”
“Who came up with the lead?” Atticus asked, simply because he thought they all might suffocate from the awkward tension if he didn’t.
“Becs did.” Evan nudged her arm. “Tell them.”
Atticus listened as Becs told a story about a conversation she remembered having with Decker and about how she’d called several hotels pretending to be Decker’s assistant, attempting to reconcile his credit card charges.
He remembered plenty of times he called someone, pretending to be someone he wasn’t, to chase down a criminal who’d skipped out on their bail.
While Becs talked, they headed through the hotel lobby and out to the street.
“Cab or subway?” Becs asked.
“How far is it?” Atticus inquired.
“About two miles.”
“I’m game for the subway,” Slade answered.
“Me, too,” Atticus chimed. He’d never been on the subway before. He figured now would be a good time to check it out just to say he did.
They walked two blocks to the 7th Avenue station, then underground.
It was exactly as it was shown to be on television. A little dim and a lot dirty. Atticus couldn’t help but think about all those fictional crime shows when someone would get shoved to their deaths off the subway platform in front of a train.
Perhaps he should apologize to Slade one more time before they get to the platform.
The blue line was the one they wanted, and since they didn’t have passes, they had to pay. It took only a few minutes before they were waiting on the platform for the mass transit train to arrive. When Slade stood behind him, Atticus imagined himself flying through the air after Slade shoved him from behind. Flying, flying … then splat.
Okay. Maybe he would step this way. Just a little.
Slade glared at him briefly before turning his attention to the tracks.
The awkwardness from the elevator had followed them, hovering like a dark cloud over the city, threatening to burst at any moment. Rather than attempt to lighten the mood, Atticus checked out the people hanging out down there. There were more people than he’d expected. Then again, he was in a city of millions, and being that it was Monday night, they were most likely on their way home for the evening.
The train finally arrived, bringing with it a wave of hot air that passed through in a rush. Atticus grinned. No, Death, you can’t have me today.
“What’re you smilin’ about?”
“You didn’t shove me in front of the train.”
Slade’s eyebrows slammed down. “What?”
Atticus smiled again, then whispered, “Win.”
They joined their fellow passengers inside. Atticus and Slade remained standing, leaving the seats for those needing them. Evan sat, but he suspected that was because Becs looked uncomfortable. As soon as his butt hit the seat, Becs was next to him.
If something wasn’t going on between those two, the four of them were going to emerge at their stop to find pigs flying through the city. And whatever it was, they weren’t on good terms at the moment.
Then again, Atticus had noticed the tension at HQ for a while now. At first, he thought it was Luca who’d caused it. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Drama seemed to be a theme for the task force.
The Penn Station stop took eighteen minutes to get to, with a couple of stops along the way. He wondered how long it would’ve taken by taxi, considering all the other cars on the streets were attempting to go in the same direction and often weren’t going anywhere at all.
“So what’s the plan?” Slade asked as they emerged from the underground tunnel and back into the daylight. Thanks to all the shadows thrown by the buildings, it wasn’t very bright.
“We’ve got four blocks to go,” Becs informed him.
“I meant once we get there,” he clarified.
“Oh.”
Evan looked at Becs. “It’s your lead. You make the call.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment, then looked at Slade. “Why don’t you and Atticus check out the restaurants and bars nearby? Decker checked out of the hotel, but that doesn’t mean he left the city.”
“And you think he’s in Chelsea?”
Becs shrugged. “He said he had a friend here.”
“At least we’ve narrowed it down some,” Slade mused.
Atticus didn’t bother to tell Slade that Chelsea was a neighborhood that spanned something like five hundred acres. Or so he’d read on one of the brochures he’d grabbed in the hotel lobby.
So, yeah, they’d narrowed it down, but it was still too big for the four of them to cover. Not without checking into more long-term accommodations first.
Becs was looking at them as though she wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“You’re right,” Atticus said when it was clear Evan and Slade were going to keep the constipated looks on their faces. “We’ll split up and keep our search to a two-block radius of the hotel. I’ll go south. You can go north,” he told Slade. “We can meet up back where we start from in what? An hour?”
“Hour and a half,” Slade said.
Atticus nodded. “Hour and a half. Got it.”
