As Fate Would Have It Page 5

  "Or maybe they would… but not in a bad way… in a good way… or rather, if that is good. Is that good? No, wait, I don't want to know. They are clean… well, dirty since they were in the laundry… but clean besides that… not that I looked… I was looking…"

  Rye bit his tongue hard, shaking his head. Turning, he walked out of the room, leaving Brie alone.

  Watching him go, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Absently dumping the detergent in the water, she quickly tossed in the thong, shutting the lid immediately after. Lowering her head, she lightly banged it on the metal. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Just great. He must think her a babbling moron that has an obsession with men's underwear. Did that make her just as much a pervert as he was? Was thong evaluation equivalent to mannequin fondling on the perversion scale?

  The sound of choked laughing disrupted her thoughts. Nice to know I am providing room, board, and entertainment for my houseguest. Muttering under her breath about wrapping that thong around his neck and squeezing, she marched back toward the kitchen. "I will not kill him… yet."

  Chapter 12

  Rye prided himself on his control. Not once did he crack up at Brie's reaction back in the laundry room. It was all he could do to leave the room before exploding into gales of laughter. The look on her face at being caught, her embarrassed stammering that followed. Oh, if he only had a camera at that moment. He promised himself one thing, though. Next time she did laundry, he was going to make sure he popped in for the entertainment.

  Dinner went well, considering he worked hard to decidedly think of anything but Brie. First of all, he was afraid she would actually stab him with her fork if he started to mention the thong incident. Not that he was truly afraid of her. But, he could never live down from his cop buddies having to go to the emergency room for antibiotics due to an infected fork wound. Secondly, if he recalled the sight of her cute little rear scurrying away from his mannequin stunt, Bam Bam would take note. He already suffered through one cold shower today.

  They ended up watching a little television before mutually agreeing it was time for sleep. Rye caught himself listening to the soft sounds of Brie getting ready for bed. The water ran for a couple of minutes, followed by footsteps. A tiny creak of the bed springs and all was quiet. He could easily picture her, curled up on her side, snuggling under the covers. That brought up his next question. What did she wear to bed? Purposely, she had remained in her day clothes, he was certain of that. But now, was it the mauve outfit? Or even the baby doll that had caused her face to heat like a freshly cut ruby? Feeling a familiar ache, he forced his thoughts in a different direction. Sleeping with an erection was never an easy thing to do.

  The sound of a car door slamming woke him from a light doze. Glancing at the clock, he blinked twice to read three am. Rolling to his side, he forced his eyes back closed. That lasted a whole second before that little voice that made him a good detective started nagging. Some called it instinct, others just a knack. One guy on the force even thought it was a throwback, primitive reflex. Whatever it was, it proved correct each and every time. Sliding out of bed, he peeked between the curtains of his window. Sure enough, there was a man dressed in a closely fitting suit being beckoned into the front door of the Gomez house directly across the street.

  That wouldn't be necessarily a suspicion in itself. After all, sometimes things do happen in the middle of the night. Maybe there had been an accident or a family emergency? Close friends could have flown in, their flight delayed or cancelled, thus making them arrive at such a late hour. However, the style of car and license plate said differently. A Jaguar sedan stuck out like a sore thumb. Add to that the plates reading New York and a little bell went off inside his head. They were a thousand miles from that state and, from what he saw of the neighborhood, no one could remotely afford such an expensive car. Rich and luxurious were a far cry from Brie's neck of the woods.

  He quickly shucked on a pair of jeans, buttoning them as he silently headed to the front door. Taking just a second, he first slipped on his sneakers. Not wanting to disturb Brie, he took an extra moment to pull the door shut with only the tiniest of clicks. Slipping behind a large shrub, he melted into the shadows, planning his course of action.

  A second car's lights flashed his direction, forcing him to squat deeper behind the shrubbery. As they turned into the same drive, Rye absolutely knew something was up. A middle-aged, dark-haired man stepped out. Turning, he quickly swept the area before moving up to the front porch, leaving his Lamborghini behind. No sooner had he quietly knocked than the door opened, letting him slip inside.

  Waiting a few more moments, Rye cautiously crept from the bush to the large tree, ever watching in case someone would walk out or even pull the shades to peek in his direction. Deciding the coast was clear, he dashed across the street, hunching behind the still warm car. Keeping his eyes locked on the porch and front window, he slid to the far side, peering in the window of the car.

  An attaché case resting on the passenger's seat caught his eye. He was far from an expert, but he just knew a man didn't carry such a thing for no reason. The car and suit alone would be enough to flaunt money. No, this was something else. In fact, the turn number lock just under the handle hinted at a need for secrecy and security.

  Glancing at the door once more, he took a few more steps in order to peek inside the Jag. No case in this one. In fact, it was clean, stark clean. Not even a straw wrapper lay inside. Either this was a rental or brand new.

  The sound of a door handle being turned caught his attention. Making an instant decision, he took the chance to race across the street, nearly leaping behind the bulky bush once more just as the men stepped onto the porch. A couple of handshakes and they strode to their cars as the front door closed behind them. Watching the Lam pull out, Rye focused hard on the license plate. With the illumination of the brake lights, he was able to make out the first three letters, TCY.

  Waiting for both cars to leave, Rye watched the house for another long moment, making sure he hadn't been spotted. From experience, he knew that people participating in questionable acts didn't care for snoops. Besides, in no way, shape, or form would he ever put Brie at risk. Whatever was going on across the street, he would find out and take care of it. Alone.

  Deciding enough time had lagged and it was safe to return to the house, Rye gently turned the front door knob, ever cognizant of waking Brie. Slipping quickly inside, he shut the door behind him before something hard smacked him in the head.

  "Ow! Shit!" Grabbing his head, he moved to prevent the next blow, snaring a small wrist in his efforts.

  "Get out! Or… Or… Or you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life!" She tried to bring her weapon down once more, only to be stopped just short of her mark.

  Rye stared at Brie in utter amazement. She was attacking him? He pulled her arm back down, looking at her weapon. With a boot, no less? Although, come to think of it, that had hurt like a bitch. Giving her a little shake he grabbed her other arm. No telling what else she had in her defense arsenal. "Brie. Stop it. It's just me."

  She stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open. Slowly, the tension eased as she recognized his voice. "Rye?"

  Somewhat relieved that she quit fighting, he responded, "Yes. It's me. Now what in the hell are you doing up? What the shit did you think you were going to do with a damn boot?" He didn't dare to mention her less than intimidating threats. No, he wanted to live a good long time. He liked his parts just the way they were, too.

  She lowered her head initially before jerking it back up, anger making her eyes spark. "I was protecting myself, you lizard. Would you rather I had a butcher knife?"

  Lizard? Now, that was a new insult he hadn't been called before. The thought of her with a real weapon did send a chill down his spine, though. "Ah… no. For once, I am thankful that a boot was handy, even if it was a steel-toed one at that." Releasing her completely, he stepped back, taking his time to lock the door. By the time he turned back,
he saw she had dropped the makeshift weapon on the floor.

  Rubbing the back of his head once more, he had to ask. "I hope you don't treat all burglars in such a fashion. Shit, you are lucky to still be alive."

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Brie glared back. "I'll have you know, I've never been robbed in my life. And, I do have a brain, you oversized cousin to a Neanderthal. Yes, I even considered it was you making all the racket out here. Thus, the shoe instead of the machete." She shook her head. "Don't tell me, you sleep walk?"

  She was too inquisitive for her own good. "I thought I heard something and decided to check it out." Well, that much was true. Yet, he kept a careful eye on her hands and the distance from them to that damn boot.

  With a sigh, Brie turned and marched back to her bedroom, muttering under her breath, something about unlucky stars. Rye watched her go, a slow smile crossing his face.

  The deep blue shift. That was what she had chosen to wear. It looked even better on her than he thought. With a groan, he watched her close her bedroom door before heading back to his. Might as well make a phone call to headquarters. Maybe they would catch a break on that partial plate number. One thing was certain: after seeing Brie in that outfit, he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

  Chapter 13

  Rye woke at his usual time, dawn. After years of working day shift, his body tuned to that schedule like clockwork. No matter how hard he tried, sleeping in didn't happen often. Now, if he had a sexy little woman sharing his bed, he might not be up. He chuckled at his own play on words. Up, yes—out of bed, no.

  Still smiling, he grabbed the portable phone from its cradle on the bedside table, punching in a familiar number. Flopping back on the bed, he waited for his call to be picked up.

  "Marlan."

  "Hey, buddy. How are things at the slave pit today?"

  "Taylor, you son of a bitch. Calling to rub it in that I'm working and you're being a lazy ass?" The low voice held a hint of gruffness mixed with amusement.

  Rye just grinned. Tyler Marlan and he went all the way back to grade school. They were teammates and rivals then. Now, they were best friends. Ty had followed him into the police academy and to the precinct. "Now, would I do that?" Of course, he would.

  "So, fess up. You got that hot lady in the sack? Got laid, didn't you? Calling me to crow about it?"

  Rolling his eyes, Rye just smirked. He considered correcting Ty's belief for just a second. Nah. It was much more fun to let him believe he wore himself out with hot bed activities every night. "I was always a quick study, man."

  "You jackass. Throw the rest of us a bone sometime, will ya?"

  Chuckling, Rye just shook his head. To hear Ty tell it, you would think he had a harem lined up at his beckoning. Nowhere near the truth, but not something he argued about too doggedly. "Yeah, whatever. Hey, did you happen to get anything on that partial plate I called into Gary last night?"

  Shuffling of papers carried across the phone line. "Believe it or not, we actually had a hit."

  "Damn, really?" Sitting up in bed, Rye listened intently.

  "Couldn't believe it from just a partial, too. But, the computer kicked out your description and number just a little bit ago. Seems there aren't too many Lams with that license out there." A few more papers crackled, then he continued, "Came up registered to Ramiro Valenzuela. Ring a bell?"

  Rye thought for a minute. "Heard of it, but can't say why right off the bat."

  "Seems he's a slippery one. Thought to have his hand in everything from money laundering to high end theft. Never been able to get anything on him, though. He covers his trail too damn well. The thought is that he's a go between, more of a middle man."

  Rye nodded, still listening. "Wonder what he's doing here?"

  "My guess? Setting up connections. Maybe planning a job or two. You know the old idea of doing your tricks well away from home. No one would think of anything around here."

  Recalling the night before, Rye thought out loud. "Well, maybe Rafael Gomez runs things from his cozy little home and Ramiro is his gopher. Even if this is a new relationship, it still reeks. If I could just get a solid connection…"

  Ty snorted. "Been tried, buddy. Surveillance out the ying yang, and still nada. They are nothing if not careful."

  A slow smile appeared on Rye's face. "Well, this time just might be different. I'm sitting pretty in the catbird's seat and they don't have a clue." Making a quick decision, he finished up. "Hey, thanks again, buddy. Let me do some nosing around. I'll talk to the chief in a day or so, depending upon what I come up with."

  "Taylor, watch your back," Ty cautioned in a hard voice.

  Laughing, Rye closed the conversation, "Always, man."

  Hanging up the phone, Rye started making plans. He quickly slipped on his jeans, tossing a plain medium blue t-shirt over his head. As soon as socks covered his feet, he strode out of the room, ready to face the burglar boot buster otherwise known as Brie.

  Finding her in the kitchen, he paused at the end of the hall. Leaning against the wall, he smiled, watching her dance to the music from a nearby radio. When her voice sang along, it took all his willpower combined with a sharp bite to the tongue to keep from laughing. Hell, she could have just sung last night. That was more likely to kill a robber than clobbering him with a boot. Her off-key voice carried across the room. Pouring juice into a couple of glasses, she wiggled her hips in rhythm to the tune.

  Smiling wickedly, Rye stood back on his feet, taking a couple of steps before speaking. "Damn, vixen."

  Brie's jerked her head up, locking on his face. "Oh, ummm… how long have you been standing there?" A bright stain of red flowed over her face.

  He shrugged in answer. "Not long." Her voice could peel the paint from the walls. But, those lower body movements… now those would make his dreams for a few nights. He could almost picture her on top, swiveling her hips in time with his…

  "Are you hungry?" Brie asked, placing the juice back in the fridge.

  Oh, she had no idea. Taking a seat, he shifted this way and that, attempting to ease the pressure in his jeans. Taking a bite of toast, he watched her for a moment more. "What are your plans today?"

  Brie chewed and swallowed her forkful of eggs. "I need to run by and get my hair trimmed. Thought while I was out, might pick up a few more plants for the backyard as well."

  Nodding, Rye did a quick calculation in his head. "I need to swing by my house for a couple of things. How about I drop you off to get your hair cut? I should be back by the time you are done. Then, we can stop by the nursery for those plants if you like." He tried to ignore the way her tongue licked the bite of yogurt off her spoon, cleaning it completely; flicking back over for that last tiny bit. Damn. He was hard just from watching the woman eat.

  "Sounds like a plan. I was thinking of leaving right after breakfast, if that's okay?" She watched him take a bite before her eyes met his.

  "Sure."

  * * * *

  An hour later, Rye dropped her off at the hair salon, then returned to his house. This worked out perfect for him. The less Brie knew the better, and knowing her, she would certainly want to know why he was bringing his surveillance equipment to her house. Explaining that would take a little creativity. He just hoped it didn't come to that. As far as she knew, he just enjoyed gazing at the stars.

  Checking his watch, he dropped the supplies in the trunk, then headed to Brie's home. If he moved quickly, he could have it unloaded and back at the hair salon in just the nick of time. That would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to drag it out in front of her prying eyes.

  So, he broke a few speed limits. Being a cop had some advantages, namely knowing where they had radar guns. Couple of side streets here and there, and he was pulling into Brie's driveway. Grabbing the stuff, he hurried it into his room, tucking it into his closet for later. Dashing back out, he hopped back in the car and within minutes pulled up in front of the salon with a few ticks to spare.

  Brie walk
ed out, smiling at him. "Wow. You are punctual." Climbing in the passenger's seat, she buckled her belt. "Get what you needed?"

  "Yep." Leaving it at that, he pulled out into traffic, taking the next corner for the landscape supplier.

  Chapter 14

  Brie washed her hands thoroughly, getting all the dirt out from under her nails. She and Rye had ended up purchasing half a dozen new perennials. She would have gotten more, but the others didn't look nearly as healthy. So, she volunteered to plant them this time, especially as it was only that handful. To her surprise, he agreed.

  He must be up to something, she decided. Otherwise, he would have done the "manly" thing and dug holes for her. Instead, he literally bounced in eagerness to start doing whatever he needed or wanted to do. Shrugging, she dried her hands, turning the faucet off with her towel. He was certainly entitled to his own devices while he stayed with her. Goodness knew she didn't need him to provide entertainment or stick to her like a shadow the entire time. In fact, Rye was probably doing some personal business or maybe calling his family. That made sense. She understood that he always kept in close contact with everyone. At the moment, he was probably sitting on his bed, chatting away with his Aunt Sally or maybe even his parents.

  A soft thunk followed by a curse caught her attention. Too loud for the phone. Hmmm. What's he up to, exactly? Curiosity got the better of her. Okay. She wouldn't spy on him. Nope. More like… just making sure he was fine. That's it. Being a good roommate, showing concern. If she just happened to find out what the dickens was happening at the same time, so be it.

  Slowly and quietly, she moved along the hallway, sliding along the wall to avoid gaining his attention. Taking a deep breath, she stopped at his doorway, then slowly but surely peeked around the corner.

  The sight had her staring for a long moment before her brain kicked into place. Rye stood on the far side of his bed, a medium-sized telescope before him, aimed directly out his window. One hand still held the wrench he had used to assemble the device. A pair of binoculars sat perched on the comforter. The shocker hit when she realized that he stared into the long tube, not up toward the stars, but straight into the Gomez's bedroom window. Her mouth dropped open as she waited for him to adjust the angle to point toward the sky. It didn't happen. Instead, he used the focus to get a clearer picture of the target before him.