Slow Burn

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2015 Michelle Roth

ISBN: 978-1-77233-409-8

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Melissa Hosack

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

Josh Jameson once said, “There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book.”

This book is dedicated to you, dear reader. Thank you for choosing to turn the page.

SLOW BURN

Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators, 2

Michelle Roth

Copyright © 2015

Private Detective Rick Diamond took one last swig of his coffee and then stared regretfully at the empty cup. He wished he'd gotten a double. It couldn't be helped, now though. This was his first day undercover as an intern at Cynertex Manufacturing, and it was only a few minutes until he had to be inside. He glanced at his watch and then dialed his nephew and business partner, Mike.

On the fourth ring, Mike finally picked up, his voice groggy. “H'lo?”

“It's Rick. Get your ass up, kid. You've got a meeting in forty-five with Dean Sorenson. Insurance fraud. Why didn't you set an alarm?”

“Morning,” Mike grumbled. “I did have one set for fifteen minutes from now. I'm at Cass's and sh— Sonofabitch, Roddy! Get down. Fuck!”

“The dog still giving you shit,” Rick asked, after the cursing died down.

“Yeah.” Mike grunted. “He just jumped directly onto my ball sack. The devil beast has radar.”

“I'll light a candle for your nuts,” Rick said sarcastically. “Listen up, kid. I'm about to head in to Cynertex, and I can't bring my phone in with me. If you need to get a hold of me for any reason, call HR and have them page me. Try not to burn the office down, please.”

Mike didn't respond to his statement. He merely asked, “Explain to me again how a forty-eight year old intern is even remotely plausible?”

Rick sighed. “We went over my cover, you smart ass. Remember?”

“I know. I know. I'm just busting your balls, because, really. How often do I get to do that?”

“Don't be late for your meeting. The last thing I want is Dean crawling up my ass.”

“G-God dammit, Roddy! Sit,” Mike yelled in response.

“Enjoy your morning, kid.” Rick cackled as he hung up, suddenly feeling much better about his new internship.

A few weeks ago Wallace Chase, the CEO of Cynertex, approached him for a meeting. The specs for one of the products they'd been working on for months had been leaked to a competitor. Just days before the launch of the product, their competitor had beaten them to market. Cynertex predictably lost millions. Since they were one of the largest companies in the Toronto area, that boded well for no one.

Now, they were on the cusp of developing a revolutionary new building material that was almost entirely fire resistant. For the first time ever, it was lightweight, affordable, and even moderately attractive, Chase had claimed. If he was even remotely close to correct, then his company would revolutionize the architecture industry for decades to come.

Rick was being installed as a new intern in the department where the product was being developed so he could locate the leak. As he slipped out of his vehicle and then locked the door, he wondered whether his cover was actually plausible. He
was
a little too old to be an intern. Plus he had that 'don't fuck with me' look that most people associated with police officers. That made sense though, considering he'd been one during his time in the U.S.

Too late now, he figured, as he walked toward the entrance. As he approached the door, he hurried forward to open it for the cute brunette woman next to him. She gave him a vague smile and a thank you without looking him in the eye.

Shy little thing, he mused. Gorgeous though. He watched the subtle sway of her hips as she walked toward the bank of elevators with regret. There definitely wasn't any time for that.

After he checked in at the desk, the human resources office sent a young woman down to help him through the “on-boarding” process. He'd filled out what felt like seventy forms last night. In order to make it look as authentic as possible to all parties involved, he was actually becoming an employee. That meant applications, tax forms, and the whole nine yards. They'd even made him sign a non-disclosure agreement.

As if he'd have the foggiest idea what the hell these people were doing in the lab. That didn't really matter though. He was there primarily to listen and to watch. Someone was leaking some very important information, and it was up to him to figure out who it was.

It was almost noon when all of the paperwork was finally complete. He'd gotten a security badge and an entry card for the parking lot. Then he'd been taken directly to the lab where he'd be working for the next few weeks.

The first person he met was his direct boss, Marty Thompson. He judged him to be in his late twenties. Rick pegged him immediately as one of those guys with a Napoleon complex. When he had reached out to shake his hand, the poor kid had taken it in a death grip and puffed himself up so he looked bigger.

Rick was kind of used to that, though. At six foot six, he was more often than not the tallest person in any room. He was built, too. After Marty had taken him on a quick tour, he'd been shoved into an office with some packets of paper that needed stapling. This, he could do.

He wondered whether the majority of his job would be like this. That definitely created an issue. He couldn't really keep his eyes and ears open if he was cloistered in an office, now could he?

It had been almost two hours of continuous stapling before he saw another human soul. He looked up when he heard someone clear their throat. He was surprised to see it was the woman from this morning.

“Hi,” she said, smiling. “I'm Tessa Fitzsimmons. I wanted to introduce myself. I'm one of the lab techs.”

When he stood and then moved to extend a hand in greeting, he realized how tall she was. She must be somewhere near six feet herself. That was kind of refreshing. He was used to being a foot and a half taller than most women.

She reached out and shook his hand.

“Rick Dante,” he said smoothly. “The new intern.”

Tessa studied him and asked, “Intern? Um … okay.”

Rick smiled and explained. “Career change.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, still looking a bit mystified. “Anyway, I figured I'd say hello since Marty has you tucked away in an office. I'll see you around.”

“I'm sure you will. Nice to meet you, Tessa,” he said, smiling. Not as shy as he'd thought.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of stapling and photocopies. Slowly but surely, he managed to meet the majority of the lab. They all poked their head into the office at one point and introduced themselves with the exception of about three or four of them. The tips of his fingers were numb from sorting.

As he headed toward the elevator for the day, he wished he'd given this particular job to Mike. At least he was a little under six feet tall. Maybe he wouldn't have intimidated Marty into filing duty all day. He had several paper cuts. God knew, his own secretary, Lara probably needed a raise.

“Hey,” a voice yelled. “Hold the elevator!”

Automatically, his arm reached out to grab the door.

A slightly harried looking Tessa joined him inside. “Thanks.”

“Everything okay,” he asked, watching her closely. She seemed incredibly frazzled.

She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and frowned. “Marty called me into his office. And… just… be glad you're not a woman. That's all I'll say about that.”

“Tessa,” he said, frowning at her words as he pressed the button for the lobby. “That's unacceptable. You need to report him.”

“It's hard enough being a woman in this field without being labeled as a troublemaker,” she said in annoyance. A moment later, she added, “Thank you for the concern.”

Rick had obviously hit a nerve with his suggestion, so he just gave her a nod and looked away. Marty was clearly a weasel, but did that mean he was capable of selling secrets too? That would require some looking into.

Tessa broke into his thoughts and asked, “So. What did you do before this whole interning thing?”

“Christ,” he said, laughing. “Don't remind me I'm a forty eight year old intern. Please. Before this, I was MP in the military before I got shot. It tore up some muscles in my back and destroyed a knee.”

Her eyes widened and she said, “Jesus! That's awful!”

“Yeah, lying in a hospital bed got me thinking maybe I needed a safer career, so I went back to school.”

While his entire story wasn't true, there were grains of truth in it. It happened when he was twenty-three. And he'd been a cop with the City of Detroit. The thing he found in doing undercover work like this was that it was much easier to tell a warped version of the truth than to make things up completely.

She considered him briefly and asked, “Why Cynertex?”

“Why not,” he asked. “I'm actually looking to join the forensics lab when I'm through with school, but I really wanted to have some practical experience under my belt. I think I may be relegated to stapling though.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and said, “Marty's a little bit of a hard ass. He'll wanna show you who's boss. You're probably right.”

“If all else fails, I can fall back on secretarial skills, I guess.”

In the time since they had started conversing, they made their way to the parking lot. When she stopped by a little red hatchback, she said, “This is me. Night, Rick. Welcome to Cynertex!”

“Thanks. Have a good night, Tessa,” he said with a wave.

He headed toward his own car, completely regretting the fact that he was undercover right now. He'd be very interested in getting to know Tessa. She was completely his type.

Tessa was tall, but not lanky. He really loved a woman with curves. She had long brown hair. Her face hadn't been covered in makeup. He hadn't even been sure she was wearing any at all. She had warm brown eyes and a beautiful smile.

He figured she was in her mid-thirties. Which meant she might be a little too young for him, or maybe he was a little too old for her. But none of that mattered anyway, because he wasn't here for social hour. He was here to find out who was selling company secrets.

Hopefully tomorrow would be more fruitful. Today the only thing he discovered was that he was more into mousy women than he thought and that his boss was a dick. Tomorrow he'd need to start scoping things out.