Read Do You Believe in Magic? Online
Authors: Ann Macela
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Contemporary
Do You Believe in Magic? (16 page)
He had a grim expression on his face, but his tone was mild as he sat on the couch. “We need to talk about Brenner.”
“Kevin? Oh, ick.” She made a face.
“I agree, but I spoke with Herb and Bill Childress this afternoon to let them know how the dinner went. We made some decisions.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to meet him ‘accidentally’ Thursday night, talk about my money woes, and let him hire me to hack for him. If we make the deal, I’ll bring him to my house next week and get into Brazos. Herb is setting up a dummy database of customer files, since we think that’s where Brenner’s been trying to go. I’m going to get as much information out of him as I can, especially whether he’s on his own or doing this on orders from someone at NatChem. We’ll record everything—audio when we meet in the bar and both video and audio at my place. And Bill will make the arrest, probably the next day, after he talks to his boss and the DA. This means you need to keep things from Tamara for just a little while longer.”
Francie frowned as she calculated the timing. “That’s almost two weeks before you can catch him. You can’t do it any sooner than that?”
“Unless he calls me directly, we couldn’t see how. If I’m going to meet him seemingly by chance, the bar is our best bet, but he only goes there for sure on Thursday, from what we know. We didn’t see how a double date for the four of us would give him the opportunity or the privacy to make me an offer. And the time lag will make him even more desperate and more forthcoming about the scheme, we hope. Do you see any other alternative?”
Francie thought while she moved a chair, then leaned on the back of it and shook her head. “No, not really.”
“Did you talk to Tamara today? Did she say anything about last night?”
“She stopped by this morning on her way to the grocery store. You impressed her last night, and she mentioned going out together some other time. She said Kevin liked you, too. He talked about being envious of your ability with computers. She didn’t mention if he said more about the ‘big deal’ he has coming up.”
“Well, it’s a start.” Clay rose and crossed over to her as she straightened up. “When can we get together again? I have to meet with some clients Monday night. How about Friday night? I’ll tell you how it all went with Brenner over dinner.”
“I don’t think that’s really necessary. You’ve got your intro to Kevin now. Why continue to bring me into this?”
He frowned. “We need to maintain the fiction, Francie. It will look funny to Tamara if we stop seeing each other now, and she’ll undoubtedly say something to Brenner.”
“Okay,” she sighed. She could probably take one more “date.” “Dinner on Friday.”
He chuckled. “Don’t look so glum. This will all be over soon, and we can move on to other things.”
He lowered his head with obvious intent, but this time she avoided him with a quick step to the other side of the chair. “No, Clay.”
“No, what? No good-night kiss?”
“No. I told you how I felt about the situation. Last night you wouldn’t let me get a word out before you left. I’m telling you as plainly as I can, no kisses, no touching. Let’s both keep clear heads and concentrate on catching Kevin. I dread every contact I have with Tamara, and I don’t need or want more aggravation.”
“If that’s the way you want it.” His eyes were silver ice and his voice lower than usual.
“Yes, it is.” The words were no more out of her mouth a moment when a sharp pain hit her right in her middle under her breastbone. She gasped, looked down at her chest, and rubbed the spot.
“Are you all right?” he asked, with an odd quirk to his lips.
She raised her gaze to his face. The ice had melted, replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. She almost thought he looked victorious, but for what?
She nodded. “Fine,” came out in almost a croak. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Let me know what happens with Kevin.”
“Will do.” He walked toward the front door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Are you playing in your league on Tuesday?”
“Yes.” She followed him and leaned on the door after he opened it.
“Good. So am I. Maybe we’ll see each other. Play well.”
“You, too.”
He gave her a little two-finger salute and a wink, and he was gone.
She closed the door as a wave of relief washed over her. That was much better than last night. She’d resisted him and come out intact. She could get through this situation by being strong. She turned out the lights and headed for her bedroom, still rubbing the painful spot at the end of her breastbone—or was it right over her heart?
CHAPTER TEN
Monday night Clay went to dinner with some clients, and by the time he returned home, it was too late to call Francie. Reviewing the weekend, he thought he’d made some progress with her. Her friends liking him had to count for something.
She was, however, even more into this “don’t touch me” and “don’t kiss me” business. In fact, she seemed to be hardening her position. And not in the way a certain piece of his anatomy was “hardening.”
At least, if her gasp and obvious pain Sunday night was any indication, the good ol’ soul-mate imperative was at work. Now, if the SMI would just hurry things along.
Tuesday at the Y, his team demolished the opposition, a luckless bunch at the bottom of the league standings, and he was able to make the last ten minutes of Francie’s game. He watched her feint and drive to the basket with a fluid motion. Damn, this woman was good. Her team was well coordinated also, running plays, feeding the ball to the open man—whoops, make that “open woman.” A couple of the women, Francie included, made some sweet shots his own teammates might envy.
A fellow team member of Clay’s sat down next to him on the bleachers. “You should have a layup as good,” he teased Clay as Francie sank another two points.
“No, Hansen,” Clay answered. “
You
should. She’s playing your position, the center.”
You
should. She’s playing your position, the center.”
“Damn,” Hansen said as Francie blocked a shot with a high jump and a long arm. “I need to meet this babe. We would have great things to talk about, like all sorts of
moves
.”
moves
.”
Clay almost growled as he turned to glare at his teammate. “Lay off, buddy. She’s taken.”
“Oh, yeah? By who?” His eyebrows raised in question, he looked at Clay.
“Me.”
“Oh.” Hansen cleared his throat, watched the action on the court for another minute, and grinned at Clay. “Then you sure can pick ‘em, Morgan. Good luck.” He gave Clay a slap on the back and left.
When the game was over, Clay met Francie as she came off the court. “Good game,” he told her.
“Thanks,” she replied, wiping off her face and neck with her towel. “How did you do?”
“We won easily. Want to grab a bite?”
“I’m sorry. I’m going out with a few women from the team.”
“Oh, right, you always do that. What about tomorrow night?”
“Tamara finally decided last night she had to upgrade her accounting software and she wants a laptop for home. She and I are going out to look for it all on Wednesday evening.”
Why hadn’t she told him that earlier? “What about Brenner? Is he coming with you?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. She didn’t mention him.” Her eyes opened wide as if she had finally caught up with his thoughts. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about Kevin. Do you think he’ll try to get back on my computer?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’ll hang out over at Brazos tomorrow, just in case. What’s your schedule?”
“I’m going straight to her shop after work, and we’ll leave for supper and the computer store after she closes up. I expect we’ll get home around nine thirty.”
“So, we can expect him early, if at all.”
“Let me know, would you, if he’s been there.” She shuddered and twisted her towel around her hands. “I hate the thought of his being in my apartment, looking at my things, touching them.”
“This will be over soon, Francie.” He paused, then spoke. “But you have to do something for me until it is. Let me know where you and Tamara are every night.” He could hear the exasperated tone in his voice, and from the look on her face, so could she because she paled, then flushed.
“I said I’m sorry, Clay. I’ll warn you of our every move,” she answered with her own edge. “Wednesday I’ll be with Tamara, Thursday I’ll be home, and Friday I’ll be with you, keeping up pretenses. I don’t know where Tamara will be on Friday. I don’t know where either of us will be on Saturday, but she and I will set up the shop software on Sunday. Is that good enough for now?”
He knew that her answer came straight out of embarrassment since she’d missed the connection with Brenner and out of frustration with the entire situation, but he couldn’t think of a way to mollify her without making it worse. He didn’t want to give her any excuses for not seeing him. “That’s fine,” he said mildly. “I’ll give you a call Wednesday night after ten to let you know if he’s been in your place.”
She folded her arms across her chest and hunched her shoulders. “Okay.”
One of her teammates came up to them. “You ready to go?” the woman asked, looking Clay up and down.
“Yep,” Francie answered. She introduced her friend to Clay, and they exchanged greetings. “I’d better go,” Francie told him.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said and watched the two women walk away. Damn. If he hadn’t stopped by the game, would she have told him about her computer shopping and wide-open apartment in time for him to mount a defense? Or, even if she thought about Brenner, would she have continued her avoidance tactics, not even wanting to talk to him on the phone?
How could she be avoiding him so much? Why? Her date with Tamara should have given her the perfect “excuse” to call.
A painful question struck him: despite all the evidence, especially her rubbing an itchy breastbone, was this woman really his soul mate?
Soul mates were supposed to practically fall into each other’s arms. Look what had happened to his own sister and her husband. What was going on with Francie? How could she be resisting him?
He walked toward the men’s locker room, rubbing the spot on his chest that was alternating between an itch and an ache. Maybe what he was feeling was not the attraction of his soul mate, but heartburn. Either way, he was going to have an ulcer for sure before this was over.
Wednesday night when the phone rang in Francie’s apartment at ten fifteen, she jumped, then scrutinized the instrument with trepidation. She had acted like such an idiot yesterday with Clay, not realizing the opening she had given Kevin. She had been so embarrassed. But she had to talk to him now. Sitting at her computer, she had activated the program that displayed Kevin’s shenanigans and had been studying his keystrokes. All the evidence proved he had been there again.
With a heavy sigh, she picked up the handset. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me.” Clay’s voice came over the line, vibrated her eardrums, and resonated in every cell in her body.
“He was here again.”
“Yes. Have you called up the little application I left on your machine?”
“I’m looking at it now. You threw him all over the place, didn’t you?” She had to admit Clay could play Kevin like a fish on the end of his line. In fact, as she’d noticed before, Clay’s skill with the computer seemed almost magical. But she didn’t tell him that because his ego certainly didn’t need stroking. She did ask, “How do you do it?”
“Magic.”
“Oh, really.” She couldn’t help the sarcastic tone. What was it with Clay and this magic business? But wasn’t it just what she had been thinking?
“I’ll show you some time,” he said with a funny note in his voice she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t sarcasm. Teasing? No, it was more like he had a secret. But she didn’t have time to follow up because he was speaking again.
“Bill had one of his people take some photos of Brenner at your place again. From what the cop could see, Brenner was fuming when he left. He ran over a curb and almost had an accident. Did he do anything to your apartment in his frustration?”
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