Blonde Demolition

Chapter 10: Trey On the Prowl

Trey watched from behind a fire truck.

Hiding chafed at him, but he couldn't give himself away.

Mallory had a story for her past life, but that didn't include her ability to defuse a bomb.

Her retirement had happened when he'd been away on assignment. She'd been in the hospital and their boss said he must go. He'd jetted off to some Godforsaken country to what turned out to be nothing.

No terrorists. No one related to the cell he and Mallory had tracked for months.

Then she was gone and they wouldn't tell him where.

He'd thrown himself into his work but it hadn't erased her from his life. Nor from his heart.

Bile rose to gag him.

She wouldn't blow his cover, but he should be in there with her. Her escape from the madness should have included him. And he'd want to know why it didn't.

He walked the perimeter of the three bays, found no one, but realized at the last second as he dialed his phone that the acoustics in the place were too good.

As he stepped outside, the person answered.

“This is Trey."

“You've taken long enough to report itn."

He'd had nothing to report. His gung-ho bleeds red, white and blue boss couldn't fathom that not everyone fought for a cause. Not everyone had the energy. Not everyone could keep up that life.

Trey shook his head as he walked among the rides that would be populated with screaming kids. They'd be covered with ketchup or cotton candy, a smile so broad you'd think their faces would break. The joy would bubble out of them.

He aimed to make sure that mirth didn't turn to sadness. Because for right now, it was still his job.

“I'm having a little trouble convincing her," Trey said.

He'd forgotten how stubborn she could be.

“What tactics have you used?"

Electric shock? Cattle prods? “I asked her. Plain and simple. The direct approach."

“I think it's time to use your considerable charm."

Trey sighed. “It won't work on her. She's immune."

A chuckle flitted through the phone. “No one's immune. Remember that lady from Uzbekistan?"

“That was different." Trey didn't want to remember what he'd done since Mallory left. “She isn't like the others."

“She's a woman. You're a man. I'll give you more time, but we have a deadline. Our latest intelligence says he's going to move this month. It's high season for carnivals."

Trey knew he told the truth. He had to do what he could to get Mallory on their side. Or, well, . .he would think about the “or" later.

His heart raced and his palms sweat from the surge of adrenaline. “I have to tell you something. She defused the bomb."

“Not surprising," he said as if he'd wanted her to.

Something niggled at the edges of Trey's brain. He didn't like that his boss was so casual about it.

“She's in talking to detectives, right now. I can't get close enough to hear."

“The reports I've read about Mallory Sage is that she's a good soldier. She'll tell her story then send them on their way. She's spent enough time in deep cover."

The man had a point. Maybe he worried too much. He didn't like questioning his instincts. “If you think so."

“Jeez, yes. I wouldn't be trying to bring her back into the fold if I thought she couldn't handle it.

The statement rang false. This guy would sell his own mother to stamp out terrorism.

“Okay. I'm gone."

Trey snapped his phone shut, not feeling any better about the situation. He leaned against the wall not relishing hiding his large frame in Mallory's compact car.

Again.

***

Booth dusted off his kit. He'd retrieved it from a crawl space behind a closet in his bedroom. Well-hidden. Unless you knew it was there you'd never find it.

It was a modified suitcase. He'd had it custom made. The case held all of the tools of his trade.

Chefs had their knives. Artists had their paints and brushes.

Hired killers had just about everything else in their arsenal. Booth had strangled people. Poisoned them and shot them. All the while making it look like an accident.

Or suicide.

That might be my best bet.

Everyone thought of Mallory as dark and twisty inside anyway. Might be a small leap to believe she killed herself.

He eyed his tools. He hadn't used them in a few years.

No one knew the real reason he'd stopped.

No one would either.

***

“And that's my story," Mallory said.

The detectives seemed to buy it and she wondered why this had been so easy. She'd never done a test run, but the words danced off of her tongue.

She'd worked in law enforcement and when they called the number on her business card someone would swear she had been a member of the Williamsport, Ohio, Police Department and that she'd been on the bomb squad.

Didn't matter that someone sat in an office with multiple scripts in front of them and answered the phone based on which line rang first. And that that office was nowhere near Ohio. She wasn't even sure where it was located.

Her fingerprints would come up in the computer as retired law enforcement if they went that far.

But instead, the two detectives stood and shook her hand as if she were one of them. Or maybe as if she were more than they were since she defused bombs. She was used to that attitude.

Then they left.

She sat at Jesse's desk, lowered her pulse, made sure if anyone saw her they would have no idea she'd been under stress.

Mallory made her way to her car with the hope that Trey was fast asleep in his hotel room. This time she checked in the back seat. He lay there folded up like a human origami. She yanked open her back door.

“Get out."

“Shh."

“No. No one's here, but the deer. Get out. I'm not doing battle with you tonight.

He'd come and disrupted her fire company's fundraiser. He disrupted her plans to search for her parents. He'd disrupted her well-ordered life.

After Trey unfolded his frame, he stood close enough for her to smell him. He'd showered after working all day. Her head buzzed from his proximity.

She stepped away and cursed herself for her weakness. She wanted to forget that terrorists existed. Forget that bombs in amusement rides existed. She wanted to forget Trey existed.

Her blood went back to racing in her veins. “I'll give you my answer tomorrow."

She slammed the door and started the car, never looked back at Trey.

He'd just have to wait.