Sex, Lies and Surveillance (8 page)

“Count me in,” Janey said with no hesitation. “You need me for this. I’m not afraid.”

Nabosny’s laugh was short and sarcastic. “Yeah, I know. Cops don’t make enough, babe. Not by a long shot. All right, I gotta get going—”

Mal slipped into his office before they could find him eavesdropping. With a conscious effort, he unclenched his hands and sat behind his desk, trying to breathe through the sucker punch.

Son of a bitch. He should have seen this coming.

He was damn good at what he did. He should have known.

He wasn’t after Grace and Frank.

It was Janey.

Heart pounding, Mal sat at his desk, waiting for the cop to leave Janey’s office.

His lungs felt like someone had knotted them tight. And he couldn’t get his brain to move past the fact that Janey’d had something to do with his partner’s death.

The logical half of his brain, the part that allowed him to coldly analyze every problem, wanted to arrest her. Take her back to Washington, put her in an interrogation room and hammer her until she broke.

The other half, the part that knew Janey would never be involved in anything illegal, wanted to pound Nabosny into pulp for getting her mixed up in whatever the hell he had going. Which was exactly what Nic had said earlier.

Obviously Nic suspected something was going on between the cop and Janey, something that could put Janey in danger. But she must have hidden it well enough to keep it from her parents and her brothers.

What had the cop had her do that would involve Carabini? Why would the cop go to Janey in the first place and why the hell would they keep it a secret if there was nothing illegal going on? Was Nabosny in it for the money? Was that what he’d meant when he was talking to Janey?

He tried to remember exactly what he’d heard, tried to separate that information into discernable strands. But he kept getting tangled in a knot.

He needed information on Nabosny. Now. He’d need to get Merri to pull files, find out exactly who the guy was. Who he talked to, what cases he was involved in. Who he slept with.

And the bastard better not be sleeping with Janey.

Shit
. Mal closed his eyes.

Yeah, you’re losing it, son. Pull it together or you’re gonna fuck up.

The last time he’d done that, Dev had died.

From the front room, he heard the front door open and close and Mal released the breath he’d been holding.

He’d talk to Janey, get the information without raising her suspicions. And not get sidetracked by lust.

He still sat there minutes later when sudden motion in the hall caught his eye.

Jimmy DeMarco strode past his office on the way to Janey’s.

“Hey, was that Luke?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah,” Janey answered. “He knocked but you didn’t answer. He couldn’t wait around.”

“Damn, I was testing that new explosive and I had the headphones on. Still can’t get the damn thing to detonate.”

“You’ll get it. Just give it time. Luke said he’ll call you later.”

“Good, we’re supposed to go out Tuesday night. You wanna come along—no, wait. I heard you have a date Tuesday.” Jimmy’s tone had a hint of laughter lurking in it. “Maybe we should come with you.”

Janey had a date? What date?

Christ, son. How old are you? Sixteen? Get a grip.

“How did you—no, wait. Don’t tell me.” Exasperation laced Janey’s tone. “I don’t want to know. And it’s not a date. I’m going out with Annie and her new boyfriend, who’s got a friend in town visiting. Not a date. And don’t you
dare
even
think
about showing up. If either you or Nic even show your face within a block of the restaurant, I will take you out to the shooting range and use you for target practice.”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” Jimmy said, and Mal’s mouth quirked at his tone. The guy sounded like an indulgent parent trying to wheedle a decent mood out of a cranky toddler. “We worry about you, Jane. One little look isn’t going to hurt.”

“Absolutely not. The last time I let you guys meet my date, Nic had him in a headlock when he told you he was a gynecologist.”

Mal couldn’t help it. Even with all the shit he need to figure out, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. He knew there was a reason he liked her brothers.

Conversation in the other room fell silent and, moments later, Janey appeared in his doorway.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?”

Yeah, the image of Nic holding some terrified date in a headlock was hilarious.

But there was nothing funny about the sight of her. Lust, need, anger and something bitter, like betrayal, hit him in the gut.

But he could hold on to none of it except the lust. Blue eyes blazing, hands on hips, legs set apart in a fighting stance, she looked ready to take on the world.

“Go ahead, laugh.” She flung out a hand as if flicking at a fly. “But I bet you’ve never had to tell your father to take the bug out of your purse so you could spend a few private hours with a friend. Or have your brothers follow you to a restaurant in full disguise just to keep an eye on you.”

“Hey, that was a perfectly legitimate surveillance.” Jimmy came up behind his sister, sticking one finger in her ribs, causing her to flinch and move out of the way so he could walk through. “We were trailing a suspect, and we lost him in that bar.”

Jimmy winked at Mal before falling into the chair closest to the desk and turning to face his sister. “Anyway, that guy was a jerk. You were glad we were there when he started feeling you up under the table.”

Insane jealousy reared its ugly head. Mal blinked, dropping his gaze to the desktop. The thought of another man’s hands on her made him want to hit something.

With an effort, he turned his attention to Jimmy, the middle DeMarco. As tall as Nic but leaner, he was the only one of the DeMarco children who’d inherited their mother’s sharp Irish features, though he had his dad’s dark hair.

Jimmy looked like a sixties’ reject on a good day, with his disheveled collar-length hair and wardrobe of jeans, Birkenstock sandals and T-shirts, usually with some obscure TV reference. Today’s, however, was a perfectly respectable example bearing the X-Men. At least Jimmy had good taste in comic-book heroes.

“I have a black belt in
ishin ryu karate
and I can take down a man twice my size.” Janey advanced into Mal’s office until she stood before his desk. Placing her hands on top of it, she leaned down, forcing him to look into her eyes. “I know how to break a man’s nose with my elbow and I can shoot out a bull’s-eye at a hundred feet.”

Everything narrowed down to that point of contact, until all he saw was her. The world slowed to a stop as she stared into his eyes. Straight into his soul.

Because he had way too much to hide, he looked away, cursing silently. And the world jolted back on its axis, making him grab for the edge of his desk.

“I know you can take care of yourself, Janey,” Mal agreed, because he was pretty sure this was one of those times when discretion was the better part of valor. “I’m sure your brothers are just worried about you.”

“So that’s what you call chauvinism these days?” Her mouth twisted around the taunting words, daring him.

And he grinned before he could quash it.

“Sorry, buddy.” Jimmy’s laughing tone indicated he was anything but sorry. “Didn’t mean to drag you into this. But since you’re in it now, admit it, man. You
would
do the same thing. The guy was all over her. He was an octopus, for Christ’s sake, hands everywhere.”

Mal looked back at Janey in time to see her blush—though he didn’t know whether it was in fury or embarrassment.

Her next statement left him in no doubt as to which as she turned a molten-hot gaze on Jimmy.

“Let me tell you something, big brother. He’s not the first or the last man who’ll put his hands on me.” She redirected her gaze at Mal. “I’ll decide who and when. And I’ll like it. Hell, I may love it.”

Then she turned and stalked out of the room, her braid twitching down her back like an angry cat’s tail, hands clenched tightly at her sides.

Mal watched her walk away, unable to look anywhere else. Grateful to be sitting down. Still, he swore he felt the hot water he was in rising up to engulf his chest.

Jimmy’s soft chuckle drew his gaze away from Janey’s retreating backside to the man sitting in front of him.

“Gotta love her.” Jimmy shook his head. “Otherwise, I don’t know what the hell we’d do with her. Get Mom and Dad to tell you about the principal’s wig some time. Dad nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh in the woman’s face. She and Annie were suspended a week for that one.” He laughed again as he stood, looking over his shoulder at Mal. “Anyway, come on downstairs. I have something I want to show you.”

Mal didn’t bother to hide his shock. Running with the theme of Jimmy’s T-shirt, Mal equated Jimmy’s lab with Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. The one place he hadn’t been able to search because of the massive safety precautions in place.

Following Jimmy out of his office to the top of the stairs, Mal glanced over at Janey’s office. Her door was closed and he couldn’t help but wonder—all right, worry—that he’d pissed her off. He couldn’t afford to have her angry with him. Not now, not when she was playing into his hands.

Oh, yeah, she’s playing right into your hands, son. You just keep telling yourself that.

Mal jerked his attention back to Jimmy, just in time to catch the code Jimmy entered on the keypad to open the three-inch-thick steel door.

Even though Jimmy worked for the family, he also supplied various government agencies and civilian companies with top-of-the-line intelligence-gathering equipment.

“I broke a glass down here this morning, so if you step on something that crunches, don’t worry,” Jimmy said. “Of course, it could be those microchips I dropped yesterday. But you can’t hurt those.”

Mal opened his mouth to ask a question but it got stuck in his throat when the room came into view.

Holy shit. The Fortress of Solitude had nothing on this place.

The headquarters of DeMarco Investigations continued to amaze him, even after an entire month in the building.

From the street, passersby saw a well-maintained brick facade, not much different from any other building on the block. Inside, the first- and second-floor offices were decorated with understated elegance. No flashy modern furniture with a lot of glass and hard angles. Instead, wood tables and desks, probably antique, and comfortable leather chairs and couches furnished the rooms.

He hadn’t been up to Nic’s third-floor apartment, but he figured it was a normal single guy’s apartment with a big-screen TV, a recliner, a bed and maybe a table to eat at. Maybe.

But down here…holy shit.

No one would ever guess there was a lab to rival anything the government had, packed into the basement of a city brownstone. Merri would kill to get her hands on some of this stuff.

“So, what do you think of this?”

Jimmy stopped by a table on north side of the room, in the center of which sat a semi-assembled bomb the size of a hatbox.
Christ, what the hell—

“It’s got a state-of-the-art timing system and dual controls.” Jimmy picked up a small object that looked like a calculator that’d been out of sight behind the bomb. “My dad’s always complaining that he can’t put one in his pockets and then he always forgets it. I just scaled down a normal-sized one. What do you think?”

Mal frowned and lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “What is it exactly?”

Jimmy looked at him like he had to be kidding. “Dude, it’s a system control for the building. From this panel, you can access the security system, the surveillance cameras, the door locks. It’s basically just a toy, but it’ll make my dad happy.”

Okay, yeah, neat toy. “Hey, Jimmy, what’s with the bomb?”

Jimmy turned to look at the thing like he didn’t know it was there. Then his expression cleared and he shrugged. “Philly police sent it over. Found it in a storage locker at the bus terminal. Their guys looked it over for a few weeks but didn’t understand the timing mechanism. They asked me to take a look at it. I never say no to the police.”

Hell no, the DeMarcos would never decline a request from the police. They were saints.

Jesus, what a cluster fuck.

You only have yourself to blame, son.

Yeah. Thanks for that, Dad.

Mal swallowed a sigh and nodded at Jimmy’s expectant expression. “It’s a marvel.”

The other man’s grin was both self-deprecating and pleased. “Thanks, man, I knew you’d appreciate it, but that’s not the only reason I brought you down here.” He couldn’t hide his excitement as a grin split his face from ear to ear. “I’ve got this new material I’m working with. Wanna see something cool?”

***

Mal walked back upstairs an hour later, still shaking his head over Jimmy’s new project.

Why the government didn’t have that guy locked in some underground desert lab working for them probably said more about his parents’ contacts than it did about Jimmy’s IQ. Because the guy was scary brilliant. And still able to hold a conversation. The only other person he knew who was that smart and still had a minimum of social skills was Merri. They’d be perfect for each other.

On second thought, they’d probably wind up in an argument over wormholes, try to best each other by making one and then disappear down into it to prove their points.

Still shaking his head, he walked out of the stairwell—and nearly bowled over Grace.

“Jesus, Ms. DeMarco.” He reached out to steady her but she’d already moved out of his way. Talk about scary…the woman’s reflexes put his to shame. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, Mal, I’m fine. I’m glad I ran into you. Could you come upstairs with me? I’d like to talk to you for a second.”

“Yes, ma’am.” What the hell could she want? “Did you just come in?”

She nodded as they walked up the stairs to the second floor, where Grace, Frank and Nic had their offices. “Yes, I had a few things to do.”

Christ, he hoped one of those things wasn’t to fire him. The thought popped into his head and wouldn’t leave.

Get your head outta your ass, son, and look sharp. The files she gave you yesterday.

Shit, he’d almost forgotten about those. Good thing he’d taken the time to read them.

After Grace waved him through the door, she closed it behind him

“Have a seat, Mal.” Grace gestured to a chair in front of the desk while she sat in the one next to him. “Did you get a chance to read through Bennett’s file?”

He nodded. “Last night.” Around three-thirty this morning, actually, when he’d finally given up on sleep because every time he closed his eyes, he thought about that kiss.