Racing the Hunter's Moon (Entangled Bliss) (3 page)

When they were finally finished, both cars had new tires. Along the way, women had asked questions, learned answers, and relaxed enough to chat with one another. All in all, it was a great morning.

Betty sidled up to Alice as the women swarmed around the tables, chatting and picking up tools. “Are we still on for this evening?” There was only a week to go before the Meadowsweet Vintage Rally, a yearly event that Mark had decided to enter this year, with Betty going along as navigator. Over the past few weeks, it had become a routine for Betty to join Alice and Mark for dinner, after which Betty and Mark took a drive out around the countryside.

The three-day rally covered a vast distance, with timed stages, and they were working on improving their communication and time around the first stage. Every night, Betty clutched a map and stopwatch in the passenger seat, and Mark drove as she provided commentary, reminding him of the twists and turns that were coming up. When he’d originally entered the race, it was with the intention of taking Alice as his navigator, but that had fallen apart fairly quickly. Nothing destroys a couple’s relationship quicker than driving together.

Leonora and Charmers had entered too, and she was determined to get close to Charmers on this trip.

“We sure are. I can’t guarantee what sort of a mood Mark will be in, though. He’s out at his sister’s today—she has him installing a security light above her front door.”

Mark’s sister, Susan, had taken one of their car maintenance classes. She was a strong, independent woman. Like siblings the world over, Mark and Susan irritated each other without measure. They argued about everything, but deep down, when it mattered, they were there for each other.

“She could easily pay an electrician to do that, rather than ask Mark,” Betty said. Mark worked long hours; he didn’t need his weekends cut into.

“She could, but she mentioned to Mark that she needed one, and of course, he volunteered.” Alice smiled. “He said it was an easy half hour up a ladder, and she’d be crazy to pay someone to do it when he could without breaking a sweat.”

Her cell buzzed, and Alice pulled it from her pocket. “Speak of the devil…”

While Alice took the call, Betty walked to the table and talked to their class. “Okay everyone. Are there any more questions?” The group shook their heads. “In that case, we’re done. Thank you all for coming today.”

Alice finished up her call and joined Betty. The group clapped and swarmed around them, thanking them for taking the time to teach them the basics.

Alice looked pale and worried. “That was Mark.”

…

Joe was eating lunch when the phone rang. He put the oversize sub down, swallowed, and answered. “I need a favor.” Joe’s only friend in Meadowsweet, Mark, sounded exhausted. He’d met Mark the first week he arrived in Meadowsweet, and enjoyed his company. The lawyer was open and honest, and despite Joe’s reticence to get close to anyone, they’d become friends.

“I was putting up a security light outside Susan’s house yesterday, and I fell off the goddamn ladder and broke my arm.”

“Oh, you’re kidding me.”
Who’d joke about a thing like that?
Joe rubbed at the back of his neck and reworded. “That’s desperate, man. Was it a bad break?” He’d broken his arm once. Or more accurately, had it broken for him. A memory burned through him of his father shoving him aside as he tried to get between him and his mother. Alcohol sometimes made the old man’s eyes unfocused, but not this time. He’d stalked toward Joe’s mother with cold intent evident in the hard, clenched line of his jaw and the anger blazing in his eyes. When he’d raised his hand, Joe had pushed his mother aside and taken her place.

“It’s not too bad.” Mark’s voice jerked Joe back to the present. “It was a clean break, and they’ve put on a cast. The problem is I’m driving in the rally next week.”

“Oh yeah.” They’d talked about it often enough. Mark was fanatical about his car, and taking it on the vintage rally was something he’d been really looking forward to. “I guess you’ll have to ditch that. There’s no way you can do it with your arm in plaster.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Mark paused for a moment. “If it was just me, sure, I’d pull out. But we’ve been promoting it as the team from Under the Hood. Alice, Mel, and Betty have done a lot of publicity about the race. A lot of clients have gotten involved, and there’s a gang of clients ready to wave us off. There’s a whole social media campaign in place. Being involved with a vintage rally is a great way to get the word about the garage out, and more than that, it’s fun. From Meadowsweet, the rally continues up into the mountains.

“It’s a three-day rally. The first night there’s a dinner with a charity auction. For the second, there’s a black-tie event and a lavish casino night where all the profits also go to charity. Tuxes, ball gowns, the whole deal. The last leg brings the drivers back to Meadowsweet on Friday. The Hunter’s Moon Festival happens Friday night, and there’s a huge party. The community really gets into it.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“You know me. I don’t let anyone get their hands on my baby. Most people around here have no clue how to use a stick shift, never mind driving an MG competently. Each team must be one man and one woman, so I need a male replacement. There’s only one person I would consider. And that’s you. I know it’s a big ask.”

A memory of one of their previous talks floated to the surface. “Isn’t Betty your navigator?” He was flattered that he was Mark’s first choice, and even though three days and nights cooped up with Betty keeping his hands to himself held little appeal, he wished he could say yes, and help a friend out. But he couldn’t. He had to stay on Charmers, couldn’t risk letting him out of his sight for a moment. “I don’t know…”

“Would you come to dinner tonight? To discuss it? It would mean a lot to me,” Mark said.

Rejecting Mark’s proposal over the phone was impossible; he’d have to turn him down face-to-face. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

He heard Mark blow out a relieved breath. “Great, come over about seven, and we’ll run through everything over dinner.”

Joe hung up and called his boss, Michael Bond. The previous night he’d passed on the information about Charmers’s Carlisle identity and he was eager to find out if they’d tracked down bank financial records.

“We hit pay dirt, Joe,” Michael Bond said. “From what we can tell, Alexander Carlisle is his real name. The paper trail is clean and clear. We’ve identified deposits that match the amounts and dates of some of his previous scams, and a couple of checks from other women who haven’t come up in our inquiries before.”

Adrenaline flooded Joe’s veins. “Is one of them Christine Tremaine?”

“Yes, that’s your contact’s mother, right? He took her for a hundred and twenty-five grand.”

Joe whistled. “That’s a hell of a lot of money. I hope we can persuade Tremaine to testify.”

“She has to testify. The only other way we can tie him to the account is if he makes another deposit we can trace.”

“What about the bank? Can’t they identify him?”

Bond made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “It’s an offshore account. Set up online. There was no human interaction, no one to see his face.”

“So we need to catch him in the act—see him run with someone else’s money. Or get proof positive that he and Carlisle are one and the same.”

“Yes. There’s one other thing.” Bond’s voice lowered. “I know you want to get this guy, but we have a problem,” Bond said. There was the rustling of papers. “Leonora has a son—Josh De Witt. Currently serving in Afghanistan. Due to finish up his deployment in two weeks. He’ll be heading straight home to Meadowsweet.”

The clock was ticking. Once Charmers knew that Josh De Witt could visit his mother soon, he would take what he could and get out of there.

“He must be aware of this and he’ll be trying to finalize the con,” Bond said. “We have to wrap and get a team in place for extraction this weekend. You have to get him on the hook before then.”

Joe’s hands tightened into fists. “I need more time—”

“Time you no longer have, Joe.” There was regret in his boss’s voice. “This guy is clever, he specializes in small-time scams, and the largest amount he’s managed to con out of anyone is the sum he managed to get from your informant’s mother. We need to either catch him in the act now or persuade the Tremaine woman, or someone else whose money has turned up in the account that he might have conned, to testify. Be careful. If he realizes you’re onto him, he’ll run again.”

Chapter Three

At six forty-five, clutching a bottle of pinot noir by the neck, Joe climbed out of his truck and started walking to Mark’s door.

A flash of lights from a car parked a little way up the street caught his attention—then the inner light went on to reveal Betty, scooping the air with her hand in a come-over-here wave.

He sidetracked to her and opened the passenger-side door.

“We have to talk,” she hissed urgently. “Get in. I don’t want anyone to see us.”

Joe held back a grin and did as she asked. “You mean Charmers?” Mark and Alice’s house was on the outskirts of town in an area that Charmers didn’t visit, and they were following him, not the other way around.

“It’s always wise to be cautious. There’s no need to draw attention to ourselves.”

“So, what’s up?”

“It’s about the rally,” Betty spoke fast. “Alice phoned me and told me you’re going to stand in for Mark, and we need to get some things straight if we’re going to be spending days and days together—”

“I’m not going to do it. I need to keep focused. Need to keep watching.”

Betty grinned. Mischief sparked in her eyes. “Oh. So you’re going to stay here?”

“Like I said…”

She flicked a strand of chestnut hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “I’m guessing that you don’t know as much as you think you do about Charmers’s whereabouts for the next few days.”

Joe was instantly alert. “What do you know?”

“Say please.” She looked different tonight. A section of her hair was fastened up at the back, in a half-up, half-down style that emphasized the curve of her cheekbones. He peered closer in the dim light cast by a streetlamp. Her eyes looked different too, sort of mysterious. Maybe it was the dusky shadow on her eyelids, or mascara. There’d been a TV ad a while ago with a sexy voiceover talking about smoky eyes. Yeah, she was definitely going for that.

Her low-cut black top had some sort of silver thread woven through it, making it glitter as she moved. The air was scented with her perfume, something warm and spicy. Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “Please.” His voice sounded strained to his own ears.

“Leonora and Charmers have entered the rally. They’ve entered Leonora’s Rolls, and we have it in the garage right now, getting it serviced ready for the trip. If you want to keep an eye on him, you’ll have to take Mark’s place.”

She looked so damn pleased with herself, Joe’s head ached. “I told you, I don’t want you involved.”

“You don’t have any choice. Believe me, the thought of being stuck in a car with you for days doesn’t set me on fire either, but we both want the same thing and we’re going to have to work together to achieve it.”

“I work alone.” In Mark’s house, the upstairs light went out. They were going to be late. “We should go in.” He reached for the door handle.

She touched his arm. “You can’t on this one. There have to be two people in each car, and there is no way I’m letting you switch someone else into the navigator’s seat. Mark and I have been practicing for ages. If you want Charmers you’re going to have to work with me. Like it or not.”

Having a hothead like Betty along added an element of unpredictability into the mix that made nerves clench in his stomach. She wasn’t a trained agent, and what’s more, she seemed determined to hold her ground and not back down no matter what the circumstances. Part of him admired her for her tenacity, recognizing it as a trait that they shared.

Completing this assignment, bringing Charmers to justice, was all that interested him. He couldn’t let anything get in the way of a satisfactory outcome. The imminent arrival of Josh De Witt on the scene made it imperative he stay with Charmers and Leonora on the rally—whatever was going down would happen soon. She was right; he’d have to work with her. He breathed in deep and exhaled through his mouth. “Okay.”

“There’s one more thing.” Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip. “He saw us—you had me pretty well shielded, but he would have registered you were kissing someone.” She rolled her lips together and swallowed. “So we’ll have to pretend to be a couple.”

…

He stood by the car as she grabbed her bag from the back and locked it. Took her arm as they walked to the front door. In black jeans and a black shirt open at the neck, he was vitally male, and her insides flip-flopped at his nearness.
I’m going to have to kiss this guy.
That wasn’t going to be a problem—but making sure she didn’t start wanting it for real could be.

“He probably didn’t even notice us,” Joe said. “I really think you’re overreacting.”

“You said yourself he suspected me of following him.” Betty’s jaw clenched. “We were so busy staring at each other, we don’t know what he did when he walked past us. He could have checked both of us out. Anyway, a couple is less likely to draw attention than two strangers working together.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone.” She shot him a glance.

“You definitely watch too many movies.”

And doubtless read too many books. In reality, there was nothing unusual with a driver and navigator on a rally who weren’t involved romantically—her relationship with her previous driver, Mark, was totally platonic, wasn’t it?

“If he noticed us, he’ll think we’re a couple already,” Betty insisted. “If we only start behaving as if we’re hot for each other at the starting line, Mark or Alice could blow our cover. So we should make it look as though we’re getting involved from here on in so there’s no possibility of tipping him off.”

“So try to look as though you like me.” Joe reached out and tucked an errant strand behind her ear. Her skin tingled at his touch and she breathed in deep, trying to center herself.

“Well, try to act likeable. Otherwise we won’t be fooling anyone.” Betty plastered a smile on her face as the door swung open.

“Hi!” Alice opened the door wide and spied the bottle Joe held out. “Oh, pinot—perfect!” She stepped close and kissed him on one cheek and then the other, then did the same to Betty. There was a question in her eyes. An ooh-what’s-going-on-here question. “Did you two come together?”

“We arrived at the same time,” Betty said.

“Hi!” Mark walked up the corridor behind Alice. “Come on in.”

Mark’s arm was in a sling, and he sported a bruise on the side of his face.

“Ah, poor you.” Betty reached for Mark’s free hand and squeezed it. “That must hurt. Were you high up the ladder when you fell?”

“High enough,” Mark said. “Luckily I landed on grass. I came down hard on my whole right side, but nothing else is broken. I’m taking the rest of the week off work, and Alice is going to drive me back and forth next week. Business is slow at the moment so I can do a lot from home.”

“You’ve only just gotten over that punch to the jaw, too.” Two weeks ago an irate husband, furious at his wife’s divorce lawyer, had stormed into Mark’s office. Mark restrained him quickly, but not before he received a punch to the jaw.

“Yeah, I’ve been attracting a lot of bad stuff recently. Let’s get something to drink.” They followed him into a large room set up with a seating area at one end and a dining area at the other. “What do you think of the new table and chairs?”

Betty walked over and ran a hand over the smooth wood of the oval table. “Gorgeous.”

“All Joe’s work,” Mark said. He picked up an opened bottle of wine, but Joe took the bottle out of his hand.

“I’ll do that.” Joe filled four glasses and handed them out. His fingers brushed her hand as he did so, sending a flurry of shivers up her arm. “I have the other two chairs you ordered made, and I’ll deliver them tomorrow.”

“The minute I saw the table in the Furniture Nook, I just knew it would be perfect here,” Alice said. “Your work is selling really well there.”

Joe nodded. “They’ve put in an order for a replacement set. I’m pretty busy.”

She didn’t know much about him, except for the fact that he was an accomplished carpenter, an FBI agent, and damned sexy. Betty took a sip of her wine. Finding out more was a priority.

“I’ll just check on dinner,” Alice said.

“I’ll help.” Betty followed Alice into the kitchen and closed the door. “Okay, there’s a problem.” She grabbed Alice’s arm and pulled her to the window on the opposite side from the closed door. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you this morning but Joe is the kissing guy.”

“Joe—”

Impatience made Betty’s voice sharp. “Yes. Joe. He’s the guy who stopped me following Charmers.”

“God. Does he know about Operation Charmers?”

Betty shook her head. “No. I’ve told him about my mother, and that I’m trying to find evidence, but nothing more than that. He’s an undercover FBI agent, and wants me to keep his secret, so you can’t tell Mark.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“It gets worse. We have to pretend to be a couple because Charmers saw us together.” Her head ached with the complexity that Joe’s involvement had brought to the situation. She’d had a plan, and now that plan was in danger of being compromised. She wasn’t sure what to do, what way to turn. The experience with her mother had taught her caution—Charmers had slipped through the net before.

“So you’re going to have to kiss him for real, and stuff?” Alice brightened. “I think you and Joe would make a great couple. Maybe when all this is over, you could be a couple for real.”

“Alice, for goodness’ sake…”

“Mark thinks you’d be good together too. He’s been pushing me to introduce you. That’s why he took me out the other night, so you could meet him at Mel’s when he delivered the bed.”

Matchmaking was in Alice’s blood, but the fact that Mark was just as bad was a surprise. “Mark was trying to set us up?”

“What can I say, he’s a romantic. Like me.” Alice opened the oven, poked at a casserole, and closed the door again. “I know you’re not thinking of romance right now, but keep it in mind. He’s a nice guy.”

“A nice guy who’s lying to his friend,” Betty retorted. “There’s no way I’d ever be involved with a man like that, a man who hid his real identity.” Her mother’s experience with Charmers had made her cautious of men who said one thing, and hid their true intentions.

“You’re not exactly being honest either,” Alice said. “And if he’s undercover, he has to lie; he can’t just come right out and let everyone know what he’s up to. Anyway, he’s told you now, there’s no reason not to trust him.”

“I’m only giving him information at the moment on a need-to-know basis.” She’d shared everything with her ex, and he’d made the decision to interfere and fire her private investigator. Joe might well decide to take matters into his own hands, to squeeze her out—there was no way she’d blindly trust him.

“Dinner’s ready. Help me carry, and we’ll eat.”

…

It was good to get a home-cooked meal. Alice surreptitiously cut Mark’s meal into bite-size pieces and the glance that passed between them as she handed it over was full of warmth and love. What would it be like to be so close to someone else? Joe’d always been a loner. He’d had a couple of relationships, one with a member of the bureau, but neither of them had survived. He’d let himself believe it was the pressure of work that had sounded the death knell, but both of his previous partners had broken up with him for the same stated reason. He didn’t share himself. Didn’t let them know the man inside. Didn’t reveal his past.

Sharing a nightmare was supposed to steal its power, but he couldn’t stand the thought of receiving pity for the hell his father had put him and his mother through. And even though it wasn’t logical to blame a child for the beatings his mother had sustained, shame still lived deep in his heart that for so many years he hadn’t been able to help. Hadn’t been able to make it stop.

“Have you always wanted to be a carpenter?” There was an edge to Betty’s question, an undertone as she was well aware that carpentry wasn’t his main means of making a living.

“I sort of fell into it by accident,” he answered honestly. “I learned some in school, did it as a hobby mostly. I didn’t apprentice with anyone, but I collected tools, and took a few night classes.”

The shelter that he and his mother moved into had nothing except what people gave them. The furniture was secondhand and shabby. Often badly repaired. The only other man allowed in the shelter was the janitor, a man Joe’d thought of as old, even though he must have only been in his early sixties. He taught Joe how to renovate the furniture in his workshop in the back garden, which held his collection of tools. Being there, working on restoring what was broken, gave Joe some kind of peace. If only his broken mother could be repaired so easily.

“You’re very good at it.”

“I enjoy it.” The feel of the wood, the satisfaction of creating something with his hands, had always been fulfilling. “I like creating.” He placed his palm flat on the dining table, remembering the hours of care and attention he’d poured into the task while building a credible cover. His day job wound him tighter than a drum, but working with wood unraveled him. “The cabin is a perfect place to work.”

“You and that cabin are a match made in heaven,” Mark said. “It was a stroke of luck I was in the Realtor’s that day…”

“Mark’s family roped him in to help with a relative’s property,” Alice explained. “He was what, your great-uncle?”

Mark nodded.

“So, Mark’s great-uncle was too old and infirm to live in the cabin any longer, and he had a love of carpentry, and a fully stocked workshop. He didn’t want to sell—I think the old guy wanted to believe he’d be able to go back to live there someday—but leaving it empty wasn’t a good option,” Alice explained.

“So I was at the Realtor’s—seeing if I could find someone to rent it,” Mark said. “And there was Joe, a carpenter looking for somewhere to rent. It was the perfect solution to both of us. We worked out a temporary lease on the cabin—he gets a workshop out of the deal, which is perfect for his job, and I get to keep fishing in my favorite stream.”

“Yeah, they say they’re fishing, but I reckon they just sit there drinking beer,” Alice teased. “Mark took Joe out to see the cabin that day and they’ve been friends ever since. Once we saw Joe’s work, we decided to buy the table. He’s working on chairs to match.”