Worst Date Ever (Scandals #3) (15 page)

“Can we move to the living room?  This could take a while.”

“Sure.”

I slid my wine glass over for a refill of encouragement and clarity. He topped it off and pushed it back. He picked up his glass and the rest of the bottle, and we settled on opposite ends of the sofa. He looked at me expectantly.

“So when you saw me the other day and saved my laptop, I was up seeing Michael on business.”

“Yeah, you said you were helping him with marketing.  And, I assume, you were registering for the service then.” He maintained his smile as he waited for me to continue.

“It wasn’t a marketing meeting.  Michael is, as you know, being prosecuted for murder and identity theft, and he has retained my company, Scandals Investigations, to help his attorney defend him.  Obviously, you’ve Googled me, so you know all about our agency.”

Cody nodded and made no attempt to apologize.  I was glad he didn’t because I would have known it was a dishonest response.  After all, I had done the same to him after he became a suspect.

“Is he innocent?”

It was a direct question, but the concern on his face was genuine. 

“I’ve gone through his cell phone and his other records, and I’m convinced he was a victim of cybercrime.  The evidence doesn’t clear him, but it shows that someone else probably sent the text message because it pinged off several more towers than necessary before it arrived on her phone.”

“Good…I’ve known Michael for a few years, and he’s good guy.  He would never kill anyone…especially Tamara.  He was crazy about her.”

“Do you think he would steal people’s identities?”

Cody took another drink of wine which he swallowed slowly as he considered his answer.  “I can’t imagine why he would do anything to jeopardize his business.  He has a blast running that website and the mixers.  He complains all the time about his customers leaving the service, but then smiles and adds that ninety percent leave because they’ve found true love.  He always tells me that I should be in that ninety percent.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I’d consider it…if I met the right woman.”  His eyes twinkled and that smile drilled through me until I swore I was sweating.

“Uh…I’m digressing.  So, you don’t see him messing up his business to steal a few identities?”

“I don’t.”

“How about you?  Would you steal someone’s personal identity and sell it on the deep net?”

Cody stiffened and a mask dropped over his facial expression.  “Do you have to ask?”

“I’m sorry, but yes.  There’s a lot of evidence that points toward you.”

“And you think I could set up my best friend and kill his girlfriend?”  His eyes were cold and reflected his disappointment in me.

“To be honest, you have the skills and the brains, but no, I don’t think you did any of those things.”  I studied his face for a reaction.  “However, I think there’s someone out there who wants it to appear like you did.”

He looked skeptical, but curious. “Why would you believe it wasn’t me?”

I met his gaze steadily.  “Actually, there’s no good reason.  You don’t need the money, but you might be bored and are planting BOTs to amuse yourself.”

“BOTs?”  In spite of his attempt at anger, the idea caught his interest.

“Yes, very intelligent ones.  They’re efficient, hard to detect and created by a genius.”

His guard slipped a little and the corners of his mouth twitched.  “That part sounds like me.”

“Your humility also comes to mind,” I scoffed.  “Then there was the possibility that you were doing it for revenge of some sort.  Maybe Michael stole the woman you loved?”

“Tamara?  She’s my cousin.”

That was new information. “I didn’t know that. It wasn’t mentioned in any of the reports.”

“Probably because no one but Michael knew.  She was my mother’s sister’s daughter, so our last names are different.  Her family transferred to Austin when she was about six or seven, so I hadn’t seen her in a few years.  We re-connected when I moved here.  I was glad she and Michael got together.”  He stared into the dark red liquid in his glass and swirled it slowly.  “She was very special.  Kind, sweet…beautiful inside and out.”

I smiled, relieved there was one more piece of evidence that exonerated him.

“With Michael and me eliminated, who’s next on your list?”

“That’s the problem.  We don’t have a clue.”

“You want me to help you figure it out?”

“Actually, I need your computer.”

“For what?”

“Because you probably have a BOT, too.”

“Damn!” he muttered.  “I’ll run a scan and destroy it.”

“Oh no.  That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do.”

“Why not?  If it’s gobbling up my code, my new game could get stolen before I can finish it.”

“I want to run a couple of my own programs, track the BOT and follow it to its master.  My goal is to mirror his computer so I can find out who he is and stop him.

“So you think all the information is passing through my computer?”

“I’m sure of it.  But unless you let me inside, the trail ends here.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he asked.  I knew how proprietary he felt toward his programs and his computer’s contents.  It was like I was asking to look inside his soul.

“Unless you’re afraid of what I might find.”

He didn’t hesitate.  “When do we start?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

After he accepted the fact that this was the right thing to do, Cody relaxed.  He gave me a lesson on how to caramelize the sugar on the Crème brûlées.  He had set them on the counter so they would get to room temperature, then he showed me how to sprinkle the granulated sugar on top and spread it around by rotating the ramekin.  He dumped the excess onto the next one and added more sugar until it, too, was completely covered.

“Now comes the fun part,” he declared as he lit the torch and adjusted the flame.  “Run it over the top in circles and don’t let it stay too long in one place.  When the sugar melts and gets a light golden brown crust, it’s done.”

He handed me the torch, and I slowly moved it over the Crème brûlée.  “It smells like cotton candy.”  I loved cotton candy.  It was one of those coveted treats when I was younger that I only got to share.

“That’s perfect.  Now, do mine,” he told me.

I slid him a sideways look, and he gave me that adorable crooked grin.  “Somehow you made that sound dirty.”

“Just giving you a cooking lesson,” he responded innocently.

I torched his dessert, then we left the mess for later and took our Crème brûlées out to the patio so we could watch the moon rise over the east end of the city.  Maybe it was the wine or the excellent meal or the gorgeous man sitting next to me, but I had had one of the best evenings of my life.  Plus, there was the prospect of working closely beside him for several days and nights as we set a BOT trap.

“This is really good,” I told him, actually meaning the whole date, but focusing on the Crème brûlée.  “I’ve never had this before.”

“It’s my guilty pleasure,” he admitted.  “My mom taught me how to make it.  In fact, she taught me how to cook most of what we ate tonight.  I think she secretly wanted a daughter.”

I laughed.  He couldn’t be further from a girl.  I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to have a mother teach me anything.  I knew if I dug too deeply into that pit, I’d get depressed, so I changed the subject.  “Liberty’s in love with your game.”

“
Medic Maze
?”

“Cute name.  But in Liberty’s case, it should be called
Death Maze
.  She keeps killing patients or running over people with the ambulance.”

“I guess she can rule out becoming a doctor.”

“I’m trying to help her study for her GED so she can go to college.  Right now, she has no idea what she wants to be, but she’s bright.  And a very fast learner.”

“You’re no dummy yourself. I saw your IQ,” he admitted.

“To be perfectly honest, I lied about it…it’s actually higher.”

“Who lies about their IQ and lowers it?”

“Someone who wants to be sure you were interested and not scared off, that’s who.”

“I’m not that shallow…but I have to admit that higher actually interests me more.”  He finished his dessert and poured the last of the bottle of wine into our glasses, splitting it between the two.  “Which brings me back to your profile.  What else isn’t true?”  He made it sound like a joke, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about my dishonesty.

I guess it was time for a little confession.  “I don’t really like BMX.”

He shrugged.  “Not a deal breaker.”

“I’m not very athletic, and I hate watching basketball.”

“Okay, I can compromise there. Maybe just the Final Four?”

“Don’t have a clue what that is, but that sounds fair,” I agreed.  “Oh, and not really a fan of NASCAR.”

He shook his head.  “That’s too bad.  We could have been so happy together.”

I punched him in the arm.  “But I’m pretty good at skeet shooting.  And I had a 190 average in bowling at college.”

He looked impressed.  “I thought you said you weren’t athletic.”

“I’m not.  Those were the physical education courses I was required to take.  Besides, they’re both very mathematical and methodical.”

“I’m not giving up on the NASCAR thing.”

“Dream on.”  I laughed.  I couldn’t remember ever having this easy, bantering relationship with a guy.

“So, what’s the next step in your plan?” he asked.

“I expect it will take at least 48 hours of observation after I set up the mirror program.  I need to watch the stolen data actually being delivered to your computer, then leaving and, finally, the information arriving at wherever it’s going…in real time.  Then with some statistical analysis, we can figure out where the money is coming from and where it’s going.”

“And it has to be done on my computer?”

I nodded. 

“That means you’ll be spending the night,” he surmised, his lips curving into a grin.

“Me…and Liberty.”

“Jeez…how am I supposed to seduce you with your sister here?”

I gave him an amused look.  “I thought we’d agreed that this would be a seduction-free zone.”

“I was hoping you would change your mind.”

“Did you get a special deal on extra toothbrushes?”

“What?”  He blinked in confusion.

“I don’t know that I can trust a man who keeps a supply of toothbrushes in anticipation of having women spend the night.”  I was trying to keep it light, but I had never been good at flirtation.

“Is that what you think?” 

I didn’t want him to see that the thought upset me, so I just shrugged and ducked my face, letting my bangs hide my eyes while I pretended to take a drink.

To my surprise, he stood, took my hand and pulled me out of my chair.  “Follow me.”

He left me no real choice since he didn’t let go of my hand.  We walked down the hall, through his bedroom and into his bathroom.  His bed was neatly made, but there were a few items of clothing hung over a chair and an abandoned pair of Nikes on the floor.  The bathroom counter was mostly empty except for a half-empty tube of toothpaste, one toothbrush in a holder, a glass and a bottle of after shave.  He pulled open a drawer and pointed inside.  Next to a comb and brush, a razor and an extra pack of blades was a single toothbrush, still in its original packaging.  He took it out and handed it to me.  Stuck on the side of the wrapper was a sticker that said, “Compliments of Dr. Black.  Don’t forget to brush.”

“Not exactly a cache of toothbrushes,” he commented.  “I just got it last week after my annual check-up.”  He flashed his white teeth in an over-sized smile. “No cavities.”

I didn’t know quite what to say, but I was feeling pretty foolish. He must have seen my embarrassment because he hooked his finger under my chin and lifted my face so he could look into my eyes.

“I’ve gone on a lot of dates, but I can count the number of women I’ve brought home on one hand.  And the number I actually asked to spend the night is even less than that.”

My heart pounded in my chest.  I wanted to believe him and think that I was, somehow, special to him.  I hadn’t ever been special to anyone, and I was tired of being invisible in the crowd.  “I just don’t want to be another notch on your bed post,” I admitted.

Abruptly, he tugged me along behind him, back into his bedroom.  He waved his free hand toward the wooden headboard posts.  “Look…no notches.  I’m not that guy.”

“But you’re brilliant and gorgeous…and a fireman.  I’m sure girls throw themselves at you all the time.  Why would you ever be interested in someone like me?”

He stood in front of me and, again, I was compelled to meet his gaze.  His eyes twinkled as he asked, “So you think I’m gorgeous?”

“Is that all you picked out of that?” I snorted.

Cody laughed out loud.  “You’ve got to understand something about me.  Outside, I may be passable with a few muscles and all my hair and teeth, but inside, I’m still the skinny, geeky kid I was who got bullied in high school.  I never went to a prom or even had a date until I was in college.  My goal is not to sleep with every woman in Austin.  I’m looking for that one person who makes me laugh and challenges me and…,” he hesitated, searching for the right word, “…and fits.  You know what I mean?  I want someone who likes who I am for the right reasons.”

A lump had formed in my throat, and I realized I was dangerously close to tears. 
Tulsa Wiggins did not cry
, I reminded myself.  If he was putting on a show, he deserved an Oscar because I bought it, hook, line and sinker.  I didn’t know how to let him see that I understood him all too well.  I had walked in his shoes.  I knew what it felt like to be picked on because I was too smart and too funny looking.  It was painful to admit, even to him, so I chose to make a joke of it.  “But she has to like NASCAR, right?”

He must have sensed my discomfort, and he took a step back, opening up a safe space between us.  “She’s got to at least be willing to give it a try.”

I suspected that statement was a lot deeper than it seemed. 

He looked at the clock on his nightstand.  “I hate to end the evening so abruptly, but I’ve got to be up in about five hours.”

“We can start our surveillance on Monday, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, I’ll be home around eight a.m.  I’ll get you and Liberty set up in the retinal scanner.”  He glanced back at the bed.  “I’ve only got one bedroom furnished, so…”

“We’ll bring sleeping bags,” I hurried to tell him as I handed him back his spare toothbrush.  “And our own toothbrushes.”

“Too bad.”  He gave me a grin that was more wistful than flirtatious.

We walked to the front door.  “Let me help you clean up the mess,” I offered.

“I’ll just throw everything in the dishwasher.  It won’t take me but a minute.”

He opened the door and we almost stepped on a paper plate holding four cupcakes. 

“Amanda delivered.”  I picked the plate up and pulled back the plastic.  “They smell good.  I’ll take them home, unless you want them.”

“Nah, I’m good.  We usually have some sort of dessert at the station.  Our favorite is a hog malt which is just a lot of ice cream mixed with anything we can think of to add.”

“Sounds fattening.”

“Hey,” he protested as he patted his flat abs. “We work it off.”

I couldn’t argue with that.  His body was to die for.  He followed me to the elevator and reached around to push the down button, then waited for me to enter when the elevator arrived.  When he stayed with me as I crossed the lobby, I remembered his promise to escort me to my car.

“You don’t have to walk with me.  I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you will.  But if anything happened to you before I had a chance to convince you that I’m one of the good guys, then I’d never forgive myself.”

I already knew that.  I just didn’t want him to be disappointed when he found out that I wasn’t.

Sundays were usually spent around the pool or out on the boat.  John packed us a fantastic lunch, and it felt good for us all to get away from the real world for a while.  Lake Travis was still suffering from the extended drought in the area.  The water level had dropped over forty feet, drastically reducing the size of the once massive lake that wound its way through twenty-nine miles of Texas Hill Country. 

The boat, which had been our father’s, was basically a big, flat deck with rails mounted on pontoons, perfect for large groups of people.  It had engines powerful enough to pull a skier and a removable awning to provide protection from the harsh summer sun.  The temperature had, for the last few days, topped one hundred degrees, and it was predicted today would be the same.  I had been shocked to learn that a typical summer in Austin had about a dozen days in the triple digits, but the last couple of years had had up to ninety.  Even Killeen who had been living in Phoenix complained about the heat, especially now that she was pregnant.

Of course, even in the beginning of her fourth month, she looked stunning in a bikini with just the slightest mound of a belly. On most people it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but Killeen was a well-toned athlete with ridiculously flat abs, so she’d better rock that bikini while she was still able.

I had never mustered the nerve to wear a bikini, but I thought my black one-piece with a halter top and cut-outs down both sides was risqué enough.  Jenny was in a modest two-piece, but even that was a little more skin than I put out there for the world to see.  Liberty, too, wasn’t used to showing off her body, so she had chosen a modest tankini.  We four girls lounged on the bow, soaking in the sun before it got unbearably hot while the boys fished off the back.  From the hoots and howls, I knew it was unlikely that any fish would lose its life today, although it sounded like the boys were having a great time trying.