Page 42 of Lethal Illusion (Six Points Security #8)

According to an FBI database, the creep’s gun had been reported stolen more than six months ago, so that was a dead end.

No luck with the area hospitals either, which meant he hadn’t gone to one for treatment of his shattered knee.

It was possible he’d sought help at a doctor’s office or urgent care center, but finding him among the thousands of medical facilities across the country would be next to impossible.

Sloane sat at her desk, rubbing the tension that was building in her temples, as she redirected her efforts to digging into the lives of Sierra’s known family, friends, business associates, former lovers, former friends, and anybody else who’d happened to get sucked into her orbit.

The list was ridiculously long, and she put a number of the searches on autopilot while she worked on her daily tasks.

For once, the office wasn’t cold enough to make penguins shiver, most likely because Nina fiddled with the thermostat when the guys weren’t paying attention.

Sloane leaned back in her chair and brushed a few strands of blonde hair away from her face, annoyed that she hadn’t found time to change it back to its usual color.

But her goal was to stay as busy as possible, because it kept her from thinking too much about Navarre.

In all her life, she’d never felt that intense of a connection with a man.

Sure, the sex had been electric, but the emotions had added a level of intimacy she hadn’t experienced before.

Just thinking about it sent a blast of heat through her body.

His taste, his touch, the way he said her name when he came were indelibly etched into her brain.

She missed it, missed him…so much, it ached in her bones.

But their one-night love affair was over now, just as they’d agreed.

Really, it was for the best. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

She refused to be one of those clingy women who chased after a guy who obviously didn’t want her in return.

It didn’t matter that she missed him; she needed to move on with her life.

In time, things would go back to the way they were, and she’d finally stop wondering about what might have been.

A chime from the computer alerted her that one of the searches had yielded results.

Curious to see what it was, she minimized the task she’d been working on and opened the search window.

The information looked promising, so she dug deeper, hacked through a firewall and into a treasure trove of databases.

And when she finally hit pay dirt, her jaw just about hit the floor.

Buzzing with excitement, she picked up the phone and called Nina. “I found the creep. His name is Gerald Porter, age thirty-seven. Former Navy, no wife or kids. He’s a quote-unquote security consultant for Adamantine Tactical Security Solutions out of Phoenix.”

“Great job!” Nina said. “I knew you’d track that prick down.”

“Oh, it gets even better.” Sloane brushed a piece of lint off her plain black T-shirt. It felt good to wear her own clothes again, though she’d chosen to wear backless shoes until her blisters totally healed. “One of Adamantine’s clients happens to be Chloe Aleo.”

There was a pause. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who’s Chloe Aleo?”

Sloane had forgotten how little attention Nina paid to celebrity gossip.

Kind of ironic, considering her sister-in-law was a hotshot Hollywood actress.

“She’s the ex-wife of Chad Aleo. Sierra allegedly had a fling with him while they were filming All or Nothing.

According to the rumor mill, the affair broke up Chad’s marriage. ”

“Okay, yeah, I remember hearing something about it. That was years ago, right? And she’s just now getting around to seeking revenge?”

Sloane shrugged, even though Nina couldn’t see her. “Who knows? Maybe she waited this long so no one would suspect her.”

“I can’t imagine holding a grudge that long, or taking it that far. I mean, seriously, it must have cost a small fortune to hire those guys.” Nina made a sound to convey her disgust. “Therapy would have been cheaper.”

After ending the call, Sloane sent a copy of her findings to the management team, and they could decide how to proceed.

Those kinds of decisions were above her pay grade.

The evidence was circumstantial at best, not enough to convict Chloe in a court of law.

But there were other means of holding her—and the security company who’d agreed to kidnap Sierra—accountable for their actions.

Knowing the Flints, those means would be swift, creative, and executed in a manner to make all parties involved deeply regret their recent life choices.

Finished, Sloane checked her phone and found a notification that her bank account had received a deposit, and she knew it could only be her bonus for acting as Sierra’s body double.

She tapped her foot against the floor as she opened the banking app.

Sure, she knew how much the deposit was—she’d already calculated how much it would be after the government took its cut—but after everything she’d gone through, she wanted the satisfaction of seeing that big, fat, juicy bonus in her account.

She logged in her credentials. The screen loaded and—

“Holy crap.” Sloane’s heart stuttered. She leaned closer to the screen, as if it might make the numbers appear different. That couldn’t possibly be right. Somebody must have made a mistake—a huge one—and if that were the case, she wanted it fixed immediately.

Normally, she would have gone straight to Larissa, but one of her daughters was sick with the flu and she’d gone home early to take care of her.

With that option off the table, she left her office and hurried down the hall.

She found Austin sitting at the desk in his office, dressed like he had an important meeting to attend, speaking on the phone.

His gaze caught hers, and he held up one finger to signal for her to wait.

She stood in the doorway, her gaze averted, trying her best not to eavesdrop on his end of the conversation. All the while, her anxiety grew with every tick of the clock on the wall behind him.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two, he ended his call.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he set the receiver back on its cradle. “What can I help you with?”

“Uh…yes. I think there was a mistake with my bonus.”

Concern plain on his face, he sat up straighter in his chair. “Not enough?”

“No, it’s exactly what I expected it to be. But there’s a second deposit, a bigger one.”

“Ah.” He smiled, as if that explained everything.

“I’m sorry; I meant to tell you about it this morning but I got sidetracked.

That second deposit is from Sierra. I sent her staff a full report detailing the events that took place in North Carolina.

She felt terrible about what happened and wanted to compensate you for your trouble. A tip, so to speak.”

“A twenty-five-thousand-dollar tip?” She hated that her voice shot up a half octave, but this kind of thing didn’t happen to her on a regular basis. Or ever.

“Garrett’s was bigger, though I’m not at liberty to say how much,” Austin said.

Last she’d heard, Garrett was out of the hospital and recuperating at home. He’d be in a cast for eight to twelve weeks, but a full recovery would take much longer. And if there were any complications, all bets were off.

Austin‘s phone rang again. He checked the caller ID and transferred the call to voicemail. “She also asked if you’d be open to working as her doppelganger in the future but said she’d understand if you declined.”

She didn’t blame Sierra for what had happened, but she was still surprised that Sierra wanted her to continue working as her body double. “Do I have a choice?”

“Absolutely. You were hired based on your computer expertise, not for who you resemble. I’d rather you not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

Considering what you went through last weekend, you have every right to say no, and I won’t hold it against you.

If you’re not open to it, just let me know and we’ll start searching for a replacement. ”

“Can I have some time to think about it?” She didn’t want to make a snap decision that she’d later regret.

Truth be told, she had mixed feelings about the experience.

On the one hand, it was kind of fun to dip her toe into the world of the rich and famous.

It took cosplaying to a whole new level.

And, of course, the pay was spectacular.

It was hard to turn down that much money.

But then there was the whole ambush thing, and getting chased through the wilderness by bad guys with big guns. That part definitely sucked.

And then there was Navarre. Agreeing to future jobs meant she’d probably be working with him again, and she wasn’t sure she could handle the baggage that came along with it.

She didn’t regret their time together, but every time she saw him, she remembered the feel of his hands on her, his mouth on her, exploring every square inch of her body until—

She slammed the door on those memories before they ventured into more dangerous territory in front of her freaking boss. Talk about inappropriate.

Thankfully, Austin didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t let on. “Of course. Why don’t you think about it over the next day or two and let me know when you make a decision?”

Everything was back to normal. The scents of oil and metal tinged the air as Navarre worked on the pistol that had been sent to the armory for maintenance. After all, it was going to be awhile before Garrett would be in any condition to use it again.

In the meantime, Rosario had been reassigned to work with Chung and Reyes. Last he heard, they were flying to New York with Ryan and Vicky, where Vicky was scheduled to appear as a guest on one of those late-night talk shows.

Navarre carefully lifted the slide from the frame and inspected each component, noting subtle signs of wear and a recoil spring in the early stage of fatigue. With meticulous precision, he cleaned each part, using special solvents to dissolve the grime and a soft brush to reach into crevices.

Three days had passed since they returned from North Carolina, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Sloane.

He’d crossed a line that should have never been crossed, and every second of that night kept playing in his head in a continuous feedback loop.

The way she’d looked. Her scent, her touch.

The soft, sensual sounds she made each time she came undone.

God, he was such an idiot. This was what happened when he let the little head do his thinking. Now everything was fucked to hell and he didn’t know how to fix it, or whether it could be fixed. For the time being, he was keeping his distance to avoid making matters worse.

Maybe things would blow over in a week or two, and life would go back to normal.

Yeah, right. And maybe he’d win the Powerball next week.

Even if he did, he’d still be miserable.

A knock on the door provided a much-needed distraction. He glanced up at the security feed and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Jackson’s muscular frame standing in front of the doorway.

He pressed the buzzer that disengaged the lock so Jackson could enter the room.

Jackson claimed he was feeling fine, but Navarre had seen him moving stiffly when he didn’t think anyone was watching. Luckily, his wife Essie had taken a couple of days off work to help him through the worst of it.

“You ready for lunch?” his friend asked.

“Yeah, hold on a sec.” Navarre jotted down the parts he’d replaced and adjustments he’d made to the pistol. He’d finish the rest of the work this afternoon, and test-fire the weapon the next time he went to the range. He glanced up to find Jackson giving him an odd look. “What?”

Jackson closed the armory door behind him, a sign that whatever he wanted to discuss was serious. “Talk to me, man. You ain’t been right ever since we left that motel.”

Leave it to Jackson to cut to the heart of the matter.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean he had to be honest about it. This wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss, not even with his closest friend. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Jackson slowly shook his head. “Seriously, that’s how you want to play it? Come on, it’s me, man. Cut the shit.”

Navarre straightened. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but considering how stubborn Jackson could be, he didn’t see an easy way out of it. At least they were in a secure room where no one could overhear them. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about we start with the truth?” Jackson’s eyes bored into his. “What’s going on with you and Sloane?”