Page 20

Chapter 19

Mila

“W hat are you doing?”

“Research,” I said, a pencil between my teeth as I opened another browser window.

“That’s the wall?”

The wall in question had been covered with very nicely framed vinyl covers, but I’d taken them down and gently stacked them in the closet.

In their place were a few dozen Post-it notes.

I didn’t glance up. The post-kiss awkwardness was killing me. So I did what I did best. I avoided and evaded.

Jude had given me free rein of his laptop, and we’d dug in.

I’d uploaded all the recordings from the phone to the cloud and was going through them one at a time, creating notes and transcripts, connecting the dots as best as I could.

In this state, it was imperative that I keep busy.

Finding that phone had been a sign from the universe. It was time to get serious.

“I’ve got your deliveries.” He disappeared, and when he returned, he was carrying a stack of Amazon boxes.

“Ooh. Yay,” I said, focused on the screen again. “Can you set up the printer for me?”

“Printer?”

“Yup. And the cork boards should go on that wall.” I thumbed over my shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be resting? Not”—he waved, gesturing to the chaotic state of the room—“whatever this is.”

Halting my search, I lifted my head and narrowed my gaze on him. “We’re building a command center. We need a place to ideate.”

“Ideate?”

“Yes. Work through it all. You said I could order stuff and ship it to your office.”

“I was thinking clothes and things like that…” He trailed off.

“I don’t care about clothes.” I huffed. So maybe I was still in my feels about our kiss. “I care about justice.”

He gave me a tight smile. “Okay, let me get the rest.”

As he stalked out, I tore into the first box. Pushpins, red string, printer paper, ink. Great.

“What’s with the string?” he asked as he set the massive printer box down.

I cocked a brow. “You can’t make a proper evidence board without red string.”

He lowered to his knees and opened the printer box. “So you’re making a murder wall. Like crazy people on TV shows.”

“I object to the use of the term crazy. Being organized is not a sign of illness, Jude. You, of all people, should know that.” I gestured to the wall of bookcases with meticulously displayed books, graphic novels, and vinyl records.

“Touche,” he muttered.

We unpacked, and while he broke down the boxes and hauled them to the garage, I set up our new equipment. I could feel a buzzing sensation under my skin. Purpose. Exactly what I needed.

While Jude broke down the cardboard for recycling, I gazed out the window at the firepit and expansive yard that led down to the edge of the dense forest. If this was my house, I’d probably plant a flower garden and add some of those flat pavers to make a pretty path.

Huh. It was the first time I’d thought about something like that. I wasn’t exactly the domestic type.

“Jude!” I squealed in delight as I saw my friend emerge from the woods. Ripley came running over and pushed her nose against the glass.

“What is it—shit,” he hissed.

We watched as the moose walked around the yard, bending down every few yards or so to graze.

“Isn’t it adorable? I’ve been calling him Sir Antlerstein, but then I realized I don’t know whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

He continued to stare as it meandered around the grassy area. “This is bad,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s an adolescent. They’re even more unpredictable.”

I brushed him off, continuing to marvel at the majestic creature.

“Oh, fuck,” Jude hissed, taking a step back and lacing his fingers on top of his head. “That’s Clive.”

The big one came trotting out of the woods, looking annoyed at the younger one. Or maybe that was just his moose face? Either way it was so cool.

“You managed to lure Clive into my yard.” He yanked his glasses off and cleaned them on his T-shirt.

“Who’s Clive?”

He frowned at me. “He is a menace. A massive bull that is way too comfortable coming to town and wreaking havoc. He made a huge mess at the Fourth of July festival a few years back and recently crashed a wedding.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. “That’s hilarious.”

“It’s not. It’s dangerous. See the big scar on his flank?” He pointed out the window.

I followed his line of sight, taking in a thick whitish scar that cut across the moose’s thick brown fur.

“No one knows how he got it, but it’s always been there. It’s how we identify him. Not that it’s hard. The other moose are smart enough to stay deep in the woods.”

“So he’s the dad? That’s cute.” I watched as Clive nudged the younger one with his antlers, and then they both took off running toward the forest.

“Nature is awesome,” I said with a smile.

Jude rolled his eyes. “Please do not feed that baby again. We can’t have Clive hanging out around here. He could cause damage or a car accident.”

Crestfallen, I nodded. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but I was bored out of my skull most days, and moose sightings were pretty damn exciting.

“You need rest.” He scanned the office supplies and the unassembled ergonomic desk chair lying on the floor.

“Yes.” I huffed. “But my brain doesn’t really do rest. While my body sits around, my thoughts switch to overdrive. I gotta get all the ideas out.”

I was energized in a way I hadn’t been in years. My journalistic instincts had come back online. For so long I’d been living in survival mode, I’d lost my objectivity, as well as my ability to contextualize and work through problems.

Maybe it was the peace of this house or the presence of a person who was willing to do the work with me.

“You know things, I know things, Parker knows things. We’ve got to combine it all and organize it in a way that makes sense,” I explained. “And Owen has been so helpful.”

He frowned. “You’ve talked to Owen?”

“Yes. Willa gave me his number. He’s great. Super efficient.”

With a sigh, Jude shook his head. “If you need help, just ask.”

“It’s fine. Willa said he had the financial records, and apparently Lila is an absolute genius with numbers, so it made sense to go to them for that.” I shimmied where I sat. “Honestly, I may be sexually attracted to the Excel spreadsheet she made. The pivot tables are immaculate.”

Jude burst out laughing. This wasn’t a chuckle. It was a full-blown belly laugh. He took off his glasses, shoulders shaking, and used his shirt to clean them, even though he’d done it only a moment ago. He was a sexy laugher, especially when his ab muscles peeked out from beneath the hem he had pulled up, contracting and releasing. His eyes crinkled in a way that suggested both maturity and intensity.

And here I was, sitting on the floor beside him, arm in a sling, waxing poetic about spreadsheets.

I couldn’t help but give in to laughter too.

It was absurd. All of this. Him. Me. The situation I’d gotten myself into.

Ripley padded into the room, as if to check on us. The silly humans who were on the floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes, losing their minds.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I’m sleep-deprived, and the way you said that—”

“I know I’m ridiculous.” I chuckled, holding my ribs to ease the pain.

“And just, all this.” He gestured around the room.

“I need something to do,” I argued. “And regardless of what Parker says, I have to be ready. Things are happening, and when the shit hits the fan, I can’t be caught off guard. Plus, I can only sit around reading dragon smut for so long.”

His breath hitched and his eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses. “Dragon smut?”

I lifted a shoulder. “Technically it’s romantasy. The smut only involves humans, but they ride dragons.”

He scratched his beard, head tilted to one side. “I don’t want to be pedantic, but dragon smut would probably involve the dragons in the smut.”

A rush of humorous affection for this man washed over me. “Fair. And honestly, the dragons are the best characters in the book.” I threw a packing peanut at him.

“I’ll read it. I love dragons.”

“You are such a nerd.”

He shrugged. “I love reading, especially epic fantasy. And then we can talk about it.”

Cheeks heating, I looked down at my lap. That was so goddamn sweet. Why did he have to be like this, all considerate and thoughtful, after turning me down?

Why couldn’t he have been a good lay with a shitty personality? That was how the universe was organized. There were basic truths about men. Many were dumb, and many were terrible in bed. Some were both. And the ones who were neither were usually narcissists, players, or sociopaths.

Jude Hebert was breaking all the rules, and it was making a difficult situation impossible.

He got up, thankfully sparing me from having to stare at his stupidly handsome face any longer. This room was too small, and I needed the distance so I could focus.

“I’ve been going through the recordings.” I cleared my throat. “Most of it is hours upon hours of stupidity, but I’ve come across a few interesting things.”

I eased myself up to my feet and shuffled to my wall of Post-its. Though my movements were still slow, the pain was lessening every day. “I’ve heard some chatter about Friday the thirteenth. During the poker game, they were talking logistics. They were using some kind of code. But it’s come up multiple times, and then there was a reference to Jason. But not as a person. Like Jason was an object. I was so confused.”

I wound a piece of string around a thumbtack, then looped it around another on the corkboard.

“But then I realized that Jason is the bad guy in the Friday the Thirteenth .”

He hummed. “How does that relate?”

“If you look at a calendar—wait. Do lumberjacks keep track of dates on logs?” Lips pursed, I tapped my chin.

He let out a snort. It was alarmingly cute.

“October thirteenth is a Friday,” I continued. “And I think Jason could be a big shipment coming in that day. There seems to be a lot of activity and planning, so something must be happening.”

I pointed to the maps of the Quebec border where I’d crossed with Razor. The forest around it was privately owned, which meant trafficking without being detected was possible.

“I’ve got to figure out where and how. Then it’s lights out.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay, I’m following.”

“Which is why I needed those financial records. And I’m gonna need more. Parker has done a ton of legwork. Your family too. But I’ve got a different perspective. I know I can connect the dots.”

I trailed my fingers over the Post-its and closed my eyes. I was so fucking close. I could feel it. And while I probably seemed like I’d lost my mind, he was at least listening, so maybe I wasn’t totally gone yet.

“And let’s say, for the sake of argument, you do figure it out,” he hedged. “Then what?”

“Then we go to the police. Or the FBI or Parker. Whoever.”

He dipped his chin. “As long as you promise you won’t put yourself in danger.”

With a hand pressed to my heart, I bowed my head. “Promise. Will you help me?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes. It would be so much easier if he could be my man on the inside, collecting all the business records.

“You’re insane,” he said with a smirk.

Yes . I knew he’d be on board.

I flipped my hair, only slightly regretting the sassy move when pain shot down my arm. “Insanely brilliant?”

“Something like that,” he grumbled.

“You need to trust me.”

He crossed his arms, and I got momentarily distracted by the veins in his forearms, wishing I could run my tongue along them.

“I want to trust you,” he muttered. “But you’re trouble in human form.”

“Eh.” I waved away his concerns and wound the thread around another pushpin.

“Seriously, Mila.” He sighed. “You were literally being shot at less than two weeks ago.”

I took a step closer, looking up into his stormy blue eyes.

His concern, while annoying, was adorable.

Grinning, I patted his bearded cheek. “Jude, if I let being shot at stop me, then I’d never get out of bed. We’ve got work to do. Buck up.”