Page 19 of Ride the Lightning
Avery slowly slid his hand inside the bag. It felt as intimate to Jonah as if the younger man had ghosted his fingertips over his bare flesh. Avery snagged a few caramel-covered corn snacks before retreating. “Let’s see what the fuss is all about,” he teased, popping one into his mouth. “Mmmm.”
“Now you get it,” Jonah said before tossing back a handful of Bugles.
“What rattled you so hard that you went home and got drunk?” he asked. “Is it me? Have I finally driven you to drink?” Avery asked.
“Why? Is there an office bet on that too?”
“Jonah,” Avery said somberly. “I’m serious.”
“God, no,” Jonah said. “I’m sorry the thought even crossed your mind.” He gestured for Avery to sit down in the chair across from him, offering his bag of corn snacks again. Avery smiled but shook his head. “I received some terrible news about a friend on Monday night. She has terminal cancer.”
“Oh, Jonah. I’m so sorry,” Avery said, reaching across the desk and covering his hand. Jonah was momentarily stunned because it was the first time they’d had skin-on-skin contact.Jesus. How was it something so innocent made his pulse race and left him breathless? A buzz much stronger than awareness sparked along his spine, and he thought he saw the same reaction in the hazel-brown eyes staring back at him. Jonah had to battle the urge to rotate his wrist and lace his fingers with Avery’s.
“Thank you. It really threw me for a loop. Marla seems so indestructible.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Avery asked.
Let me count the ways.“There might be.”
“Anything,” Avery said breathlessly.
Pulling his hand back, Jonah made a fist beneath the desk. He wanted to hold on to the sensations Avery brought forth in him a little while longer. “It depends on how my meeting goes with Trexler this morning.”
Avery blinked. “Meeting with Trexler?”
Tearing his eyes away from Avery’s, Jonah checked the time and swore. “I’ll have to explain later. Trexler’s expecting me in five minutes.” He reached inside his middle desk drawer and pulled out the interoffice envelope containing his notes about the discrepancies in the Ison case. “Wish me luck,” Jonah said, pushing back from his desk.
“Um, good luck.”
“Don’t eat all my Bugles, Avery,” Jonah tossed over his shoulder on the way to the door.
“Yes, sir.”
Jonah made the short walk to Trexler’s office, arriving with a minute to spare. His assistant Tabitha looked up from her computer and smiled at him.
“He’s just finishing up with a call, and he’ll be right with you,” Tabby said.
“Thanks,” Jonah said, searching his brain for small talk to engage in while they waited. Weather was always a safe bet, so he went with it.
“Spring is my favorite time of year. I love seeing all the flowers in bloom.”
A big smile spread across Tabby’s face, and Jonah knew where the conversation was headed. “So, who sent Avery flowers?”
“I don’t know,” Jonah lied. “Avery didn’t say, and I don’t pry. They just appeared on his desk sometime after lunch yesterday.” Then Jonah realized he hadn’t seen the colorful bouquet on Avery’s desk this morning, but it made sense that he would want to take them home.
The door behind Tabby opened suddenly, cutting off their conversation. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Agent St. John,” Trexler said, offering an apologetic smile, which made Jonah uneasy. The man scowled, belittled, and frowned at him. He never smiled at Jonah, and he sure as hell didn’t apologize.
“It’s no problem, sir,” Jonah said.
“Won’t you come in? I’m sure you have better things to do than gossip with Tabby.” His assistant stiffened and broke eye contact with Jonah. Trexler didn’t wait for a response; he spun on his heels and headed back into his office, expecting Jonah to follow.
Jonah rapped his knuckles on Tabby’s desk, pulling her gaze back up to meet his. He winked and smiled, hoping it would ease the sting she felt from her boss’s crass treatment.
Closing the door behind him, Jonah entered Trexler’s lair. His boss was already seated at his desk, waiting impatiently for Jonah to begin. Trexler looked as debonair as always in a black suit, light blue shirt, and a striped tie. Not a hair was out of place. Trexler had ten years on Jonah, and it had started to show.
“What did you wish to discuss with me?” Trexler asked, interrupting Jonah’s thoughts. The man leaned back against his chair and studied him carefully. A half-smile tugged at the corner of Trexler’s mouth, reminding him of a cat waiting to pounce. Worse, it was the same smug expression Oscar used to wear when he knew he had the upper hand. Jonah’s unease quadrupled.
“I stumbled on to a closed case I feel was poorly investigated at best and criminal misconduct at the worst,” Jonah said. He opened the interoffice envelope and pulled out the summary of facts he’d typed, then slid it across the desk to Trexler. “I’d like permission to request official files so we can determine if the investigation should be reopened.”