Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (8 page)

He looked down at her. Even with those beautiful legs in heels, she still stood a good four or five inches shorter than he was. Her eyes blazed, full of fire right now. He’d hit a nerve.

“I’m not using you,” she spat.

“Yes, you are.” He matched her anger in his retort as he put his nose within an inch of hers and glared back at her. “And I walked right into it without a clue. Maybe you could have warned me, huh?”

As they stood there, facing each other down, the birthday party group burst out of the door behind them. They laughed as they stepped into the parking lot, arm in arm.

“Okay, missy. Game on. You wanted a show, you got it!” he muttered under his breath.

Trev put his hand behind Sophie’s neck and pulled her to him, kissing her hard and quick, or at least he intended it to be quick but it wasn’t. His mouth pressed against hers, forcefully burning into her own. Surprise hit him hard as he felt the need to search every section of her mouth, exploring and enjoying the moistness of her lips. The scent of her skin up close intoxicated him. He trailed his other hand up her side, resting it briefly against her rib cage then grasped her tightly as the kiss ended. “That should do the trick,” he whispered against her mouth. Reluctantly he released her, turned, and started walking toward her car. She stood still and watched him move away.

Then he did exactly what she had done to him inside. He turned with a smile and said, “Are you coming, Soph?” Her mouth opened and she stared at him, her breathing short. Behind her, Callie let out a loud wolf whistle. Sophie’s eyes burned into him. He was amazed at how much bigger they got when she was angry. He walked toward her car and stopped. His hands shook and his lips burned. He waited for her to follow.

“I have a question for you, Mr. Trevor Adams.” Her voice was low and husky as she approached. She waved her car keys, and added, “Did you think that was funny? And … ” She hesitated as she noticed their location. “How did you know this was my car?”

Trev surveyed the royal blue charger she pointed to, then glanced around the parking lot. He ignored the first question. He grabbed the keys she waved in his face and dangled the silver Dodge emblem on them in front of her. “I guessed. It’s the only Dodge in the parking lot except for that truck at the back.” He pointed at an old truck with the grill half-missing, and one fender a different color than the other. It looked like it wouldn’t move. “You don’t seem the type to drive something like that so this made sense.”

“That’s pretty observant of you.” She reached for her keys.

He lifted them out of her reach. “Nope. Sorry. You don’t need to be driving right now. There’s a gas station two blocks over that’s open all night. They have coffee and food, and a little room to sit. Let’s go there and you can show me those reports you talked about.” He glanced around, noticing that her friends were all gone. The streetlights splashed silver streaks across her hair and cheeks and she looked even more beautiful standing there challenging him.

“I don’t really feel like it, Trevor. I just want to go home.” She sighed and let her shoulders drop.

“Then I’ll drive you.”

“No!” She flashed another angry look at him.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know you. I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“It’s
your
car,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but. Oh, okay, let’s go get the coffee.” She started walking toward the street corner to cross.

“What about the reports? Do you still want me to look at them? Or would you rather we just drop it now?”

“You have the keys. They’re in the back on the floor.”

Chapter Five

Gas stations in downtown Houston can attract all sorts of interesting people at late hours, basically the kind of people one should stay away from. For the general public, it’s not a safe place to be after dark. The gas station was lit up like a circus, making it easy to manage.

In the far corner, two people argued … apparently a lovers’ spat. They tried to keep their voices down but not very successfully. After a minute, the girl stormed out and the guy followed. At one of the tables in the small dining area, a guy, the only other person left in the place, had his head down. He looked to be sleeping — or passed out. The gas pumps outside had no customers. The attendant, a very thin man with dark, receding hair watched them warily from behind a Plexiglas window over the counter.

Trev purchased two large coffees and moved to a table as far away from the sleeping guy as possible so that he could keep an eye on him. Sophie followed.

Trev looked at the reports and listened as Sophie explained what she found and why it didn’t seem to make sense. Nothing surprised him. Except her. She wasn’t at all the person he thought. The bureau thought.

“I see what you mean. It sure doesn’t look right to me either, but I can’t really tell anything without looking at the database and seeing the transactions in data form. Can you get me a copy?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was tired and drained. “Maybe this isn’t necessary. I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I don’t want to waste your time anymore.”

He glanced nervously out the window as a white Toyota pulled up to one of the gas pumps. The loud thumping of the music in the car reverberated such that he could feel it in his bones. He dropped one hand into his lap. His firearm fit snugly in his ankle holster. If he had to, he wanted to be ready. He bent his leg back under him. It frustrated him not to carry the firearm as he normally would. A young Hispanic man stepped out and started pumping gas. Trev watched him as he spoke to Sophie. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty concerned about it before.” He switched his eyes to her face so that he could observe her expression. She wanted to be rid of him.

“That was before … ” She mumbled. Her eyes fixated on his mouth. If it weren’t for the guy outside, he’d find it fun, perhaps.

He continued to watch her intently and waited for her to finish her sentence. Her face changed to a rosy red and she looked away from him, gazing out the window to the street. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the young man slide back into his car and leave. He’d only pumped a few dollars of gas. Probably just enough to get him home for the night. It reminded him of high school and his first car. He’d done that at least a hundred times. Pumped just enough to get home, burning up his last few dollars. Trev relaxed and pulled both hands up to the tabletop.

Sophie let out a weary sigh. “You know, I’m pretty tired. Let’s just call it a night for now, please?” She got up from her seat, gathered up the papers, and walked out.

Trev rushed out to step in beside her. He held her keys out to her. She reached for them without looking at him. He slipped his hands into his pockets and they walked the two blocks to her car silently. A brown Chevy Malibu whizzed by with two people in it, rushing to make the light as it turned yellow, then red. Once it passed, the streets remained empty as they strode back toward her car. She walked like it was a foot race. That was probably a good thing for this time of night. Best to get off the road as fast as possible.

“Sophie.” He broke the silence when they reached the parking lot where her car sat alone. “You’re upset and it’s late, but you need to keep this in perspective. Forget all the other things tonight that led up to now. They don’t matter. What you found in those reports could be pretty serious.” He kept his voice low, but sincere.

“No, it’s probably just a mistake.” She dismissed him with the wave of a hand.

“It’s not a mistake. At least, I really don’t think so. If what I think is true, you could be in trouble. Don’t take it lightly. Get me the data.” No asking this time. If she didn’t get it to him, he’d find another way. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Okay. Okay.” Her voice was exasperated as she unlocked her car. She didn’t look at him when she stepped in. “I can get it to you when you get back from your trip next week. I’m beginning to wonder why I got you involved in this to begin with.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my profession, it’s to stick with your instincts. Too late for regrets now. I’ll be back in town Thursday afternoon. I’ll pick you up at five outside your building, unless you still have a problem getting in a car with me?” He tried to smile.

Sophie ignored his attempt at humor. “I’ll see you Thursday.” She left.

He wanted the data now before anything else went wrong, but it would wait. He watched her drive away and turned to walk toward his apartment. He didn’t want to hear Nate or the others ranting about the kiss right now, so he didn’t bother to check in, but he appreciated the car trailing after her from a distance. After what she told him and what he knew happened to Bob, if she wasn’t part of it, then danger trailed her. From everything he’d seen so far, she wasn’t involved.

Chapter Six

The jacket draped over the back of the chair unleashed a gentle smile from Sophie as she brushed her fingers across it. Yes, it wasn’t the most flattering color or style — she preferred bold and classy, whereas this jacket was more rumpled and comfortable. However, the sentiment behind it embodied her transformation over the past couple of years since her mother passed.

She reminisced about the bright red coat worn throughout her mother’s illness. It had been unseasonably cold in Chicago and that jacket became a staple of every visit to the hospital as the cancer progressed. At the time, she considered it not just utilitarian, but a symbol of bravery and resiliency. Afterward, it became painful to look at. She remembered the discussion with Callie vividly a few months post-funeral. A new staff member, Callie and Sophie had yet to find a comfort with each other. Sophie needed to talk though, and Callie just happened to be present at that moment.

“I can’t even open my closet without seeing the red coat I wore to the hospital every day. It’s a constant reminder of how different she became from the strong, dynamic woman that raised me. I doubt I’ll ever wear that beautiful coat again.”

“Then we need to do a wardrobe intervention!” Callie exclaimed as they stood in the hallway at work. “I’ll be at your house tonight at seven and we’ll take care of that coat. It’s time for you to get a new start.” She wasn’t referring to the coat but that was a good beginning.

Callie showed up at her house that night right on time. They took the red coat to the shelter and donated it, then went on a shopping trip for a replacement. The goal was to get something so completely different that it would be the beginning of Sophie’s new start … her solo start. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived at the stores, closing time loomed less than an hour away and the choices were slim. Thus, after a short while searching for something in the few remaining open shops, Sophie gave up … but not Callie.

When Callie had something set in her mind, she didn’t stop until she achieved the goal. That’s what Sophie liked about her. And admittedly, they were very similar in most situations. As Sophie sat in the food court at the mall, sipping a tea, Callie presented her with a bag from one of the shops. Inside rested the brownish tan coat that eventually became Sophie’s staple. They celebrated by going out for coffee and dessert. The coat wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t flattering, and definitely the most god-awful color Sophie had ever seen. But, for some reason, it delivered a perfect transition from the bold red garment. Most importantly, Callie gave her a chance to go out and enjoy herself; to stop thinking about the fact that her only living relative would no longer be a part of her life. They made a pact that they would take a night out at least every other week just to keep each other sane. Sophie was never so thankful to find such a friend. It amazed her that they had become so close in such a short time.

Trevor’s thoughtfulness in returning the jacket was commendable. The sentiment around the jacket far outweighed the appearance. It was symbolic, now, and Sophie admitted herself a sucker for symbolic gestures.

Of course, he didn’t know what the jacket represented, but still he wanted to return it, and she appreciated the gesture. Her hand went to her mouth, remembering her last encounter with him. He could have just put an arm around her or held her hand. That would have been sufficient. But he kissed her. Boy, did he kiss her. Just thinking about it made her nerves turn to Jell-O.

Her mother would have thought him boring, too straight-laced and stiff. Brianna Henderson abhorred anything stiff or straight-laced. She typified the word rebel. After all, she had raised Sophie on her own, despite the many potential alternatives that came her way. Sophie admired that she’d never given so much as a thought to the men that came around. Brianna was beautiful and smart, a tenured history professor at the university — something that came with hardship. She was also the first and only black female professor for the first five years of her career at the school. She maintained that position by knowing which battles to fight as well as which ones to walk away from. She was a champion for change, but in a way that didn’t come off as abrasive or challenging. What Sophie didn’t know until right after her mother died was the source of that strength. It resided, in part, due to Sophie’s father’s influence.

Sophie had always thought her father left them during her toddler stage. That’s all she knew and Brianna hadn’t corrected her. When Sophie met her dad again after the illness took most of the vibrancy from her mother’s eyes, anger bubbled under every word and gesture between them. If they hadn’t been in the hospital room with her mother at the time, Sophie probably would not have given him a minute.

“Honey, do you remember when we went to New York to live with your Uncle James?” Brianna prompted in a weak raspy voice, with this strange man’s hand holding her mother’s.

“Not really, I was only four or five at the time. I remember us being in a great big apartment and a big, white, four-poster bed in my room with a pink ruffle around the top. I remember Uncle James being a very kind man and taking me to the park on the weekends. That’s about all I remember.”