Razor's Edge (6 page)

“No, that's not what I'm saying. I knew the two guys Kurt had tailing me right after we broke up were his friends. I recognized them. When I saw the skinny guy, I made an assumption that he was doing it again. I was wrong.”

“What if you're wrong about the coincidence part? What if the skinny guy is the one who did this?”

“Then it's no different than a stranger doing it, because I don't know who the skinny guy is. Neither does Kurt. I always knew when he was lying, and he wasn't this time.”

“So, the fact that your house was broken into—twice—and you have a guy following you—again—doesn't bother you at all?”

“Of course it does. I'm just not sure that one thing has anything to do with the other. Neither am I convinced that the skinny guy had some nefarious purpose. He might have just thought I was hot. It does happen.”

Tanner's eyes darkened as they slid down her body and back up. “I definitely believe that.”

Something inside Roxanne relaxed and heated under his gaze. She didn't normally think about the men she worked with as anything more than friends, but if Tanner kept looking at her like that, she was going to start. And that was a supremely bad idea.

She took a long step back and headed to her car. “I need to change.”

“Change the subject, you mean.”

“That, too. Stay if you want to stay. Go if you want to go. Either way, any discussion about my private life is now officially over.”

 

 

Jordyn Stynger could barely stand. Her head pounded with the remnants of her punishment, but she had to block it out. There was no time to waste giving in to the pain.

At least it was mostly over now. The throbbing ache was nothing compared to what she'd suffered for the last three days.

She shoved the memory from her mind and forced her shaking hands to work long enough to get the car started.

Deactivating three layers of security had taken time, and she didn't have much before her mother would realize she was gone. If she couldn't get to town and back before that happened, she was going to spend a lot more than three days in the white room next time.

The idea of it made the bile rise in her throat and her hands shake even harder. A wave of dizziness swept through her, and she gripped the steering wheel tight, praying she could keep the car on the private road. If it came back all dented up, her mother would figure out what Jordyn had done.

A woman's life was at stake. Jordyn couldn't afford even a small mistake right now.

Heedless of the breakneck speed, she raced to the nearest town and parked in front of the tiny library. It had once been a house, but had been converted in the sixties. Several bikes were propped against the wall, reminding her that school was out for the summer.

Jordyn had heard that most children were allowed summer break, but having been educated by her mother, she had had no such thing as a vacation. Norma Stynger was all about discipline—a fact Jordyn would have a hard time forgetting for many weeks to come.

She wrenched the door open, feeling her muscles twinge with the motion. She hadn't moved much in three days, and it was going to be a while before her body forgave her for it.

Cool air poured over her face, and, until now, she hadn't realized she'd forgotten to turn on the air-conditioning in the car. She'd been so focused on getting here, she hadn't noticed the growing heat inside the vehicle.

The smell of old books and coffee hit her, making her stomach heave dangerously. She came to a rocking stop, swallowing hard to keep herself from vomiting.

“Can I help you, ma'am?” came a concerned voice from behind her.

Jordyn turned and saw the woman who'd spoken. She was plump and had a kind, grandmotherly face like some of the characters Jordyn had seen on TV. Reading glasses hung on a beaded chain around her neck, and her arms were full of books. Her expression was filled with worry, making Jordyn realize she hadn't done a thing to straighten her own appearance in three days. She was probably a total wreck.

“I need to use a computer.”

The librarian glanced at the only three PCs available. A kid sat at each one. “I'm sorry, but they're in use. Have a seat and I'll get you the list so you can put your name on it.”

Defeat beat at Jordyn, making her head pound harder. She pulled in a deep breath and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “I can't wait. I'm in a hurry.”

The older woman frowned. “Are you okay? You don't look so good. Let me call someone to check you out.”

“I just need a computer for two minutes. It's important.”

The woman must have taken pity on her. She lowered her voice and said, “You can use the one behind the counter, but then I have to insist that you sit down for a few minutes, okay?”

Jordyn nodded and sat. She'd agree to just about anything if it got her the Internet access she needed.

“Do you have a library card?”

“No.”

“You have to have a card to use the equipment. I'll go get the paperwork from the back room. Stay right here, okay?”

Jordyn doubted that was what the woman was going to do. There was too much worry in her expression—too much suspicion. Chances were the librarian was going to the back to use a phone to call the police.

Rather than argue, Jordyn nodded and hoped she looked compliant.

As soon as the woman was out of eyesight, Jordyn bolted behind the counter to use the only available PC. The librarian had left without implementing any security procedures, leaving open the Web site she'd been using to shop for shoes.

Her e-mail program was also open.

Jordyn didn't question her good fortune or the woman's lack of caution. She used the librarian's e-mail account to send the message. She deleted all traces that the message had been sent, then hurried outside on shaking legs.

She had fifteen minutes to make a twenty-minute drive before the loophole she'd put in the security system closed and she was locked out of the compound. If she wasn't back by then, her mother would know what she'd done, and she'd be right back in the white room before the day was over.

As weak as she was, Jordyn didn't think she'd survive a second punishment.

R
azor was in trouble. The fact that she couldn't seem to see it, or preferred denial didn't sit well with Tanner.

He spent the next three hours stewing while they cleaned up the carnage left behind. The more he saw, the angrier he got. There was thousands of dollars in damage, and just sweeping up the broken glass wasn't going to cut it. Much of the carpet in the house was ruined. Some of the hardwood floors were gouged, as if someone had tried to pry them up. The drywall in several rooms had been bashed in and pulled away from the studs.

Part of him was convinced this act had been motivated by revenge—the kind a pissed-off ex-boyfriend and his buddies might commit if they got drunk enough. But the rest of him questioned that. Not only had furniture and walls been destroyed, but the destruction had continued. If someone wanted to ruin a mattress, slashing it was enough. They didn't also have to gut it.

Unless they were looking for something.

Over and over, he saw signs that whoever had done this had ripped up floorboards and torn down walls in search of something.

He thought about bringing it up with Razor, but she seemed to wilt before his eyes as she moved from room to room, repairing the damage she could.

“That's enough,” she finally told him, sounding defeated. “This is going to take us hours. I'm calling in a repair crew to see if they'll haul off the junk as well.”

Tanner dumped a dustpan full of broken glass into the trash bin and wiped his hands off on his jeans. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

Razor looked at his jeans and frowned. A second later, she was marching across the room toward him. She now wore the workout clothes she'd had stashed in her trunk. That wide cuff bracelet was out of place next to the clinging gym shorts and tank top that showed off every feminine curve. The long length of bare legs showing nearly drove him to his knees. All dressed up in her designer clothes, she was a knockout, but dressed down like this, she was so much more alluring, because a man like Tanner felt he might have a shot.

Sure, it was a crazy notion, but there was no accounting for hormones.

“You're bleeding,” she said, looking down at his legs.

Sure enough, a bit of blood was smeared across his jeans. He checked his hands and found a small cut he hadn't noticed. “It's nothing.”

She took his hand in hers and turned it toward the light. Her fingers were gentle and soft against his skin. He stared at the top of her head, holding very still, letting her do what she wanted.

“I don't see any splinters,” she said. “It doesn't look deep. Does it hurt?”

His voice seemed to disappear for a moment before he regained the ability to speak. “No. It's fine. I'll just wash it out.”

Still holding his hand, she stared at him with the oddest look on her face. “Thank you for helping. You didn't have to do that.”

Tanner shrugged, being careful not to pull away from her grip. He liked her touch—the feel of her skin on his. Sure, it was just his hand, but he was acutely aware of said hand and the warmth of her fingers against his. “I didn't mind. Besides, it beat chasing you all over town.”

Her cell phone rang with an imperious chime. She let go of him and looked at the screen for a few moments, frowning in confusion. “It's from Jake, only it's not his e-mail address.”

He was still mourning the loss of her touch, which made him slow to process what she'd said. “Jake?”

“My best friend. He's in the military, and I haven't heard from him in three months. The last letter I sent him was a few weeks ago. He never responded.”

“Where is he stationed?”

“Afghanistan. I don't know what he does, though. He never likes to talk about it.”

That meant he'd probably seen some action. Heaven knew Tanner didn't like talking about the couple of close calls he and his buddies had had over there.

He nodded to her phone. “What did he say?”

Her frown deepened until her expression was a mix of fear and skepticism. “Burn everything. They're coming.”

“What?” That didn't sound good. Heedless of bad manners, Tanner stepped behind her to read the ominous text over her shoulder. All he saw was a bunch of garbled words that meant nothing. “It doesn't say anything.”

“It's written in code we used when we were kids. That's how I know it must be from him even though it's not his address.”

“Code?”

She turned to face him. Her cheeks turned red, but he couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. “My parents didn't like that I was friends with the hired help, so we slipped notes back and forth, hiding them in vases and the central vacuum tubes. We were worried we'd get caught, so we made up a secret code.”

That short explanation hit Tanner like a blow to the stomach. Not only did it tell him that her parents had been dicks; it also made him wonder how lonely she must have been to risk angering them just so she could have a friend. But all of that he could have shrugged off. The part that really bothered him was that her friend was using that same secret code now, sending ominous messages from an e-mail address not his own. Why would he do such a thing?

“What does he mean?” asked Tanner.

“I have no idea. Maybe it's some kind of joke. He used to play pranks on me all the time when we were kids.”

Tanner seriously doubted that was the case now. “Does he always write to you in code?”

“Not since we were kids.”

“Could he be in trouble?”

Roxanne was standing close enough that he could smell her skin and see her bottom lip waver for a second before she controlled it. “I don't know. Maybe he told me something in his letters he shouldn't have.”

“Is he the kind of man who would spill classified information?”

“Not purposefully. But if there's something in his letters to me that would get him in trouble, I need to do what he asks. He sent me a box of things a couple of months ago and asked me to store them until he got back.”

“You're going to burn evidence? Do you have any idea how much trouble that could get you in?”

“I don't care. He's my best friend. I owe him at least that much.” She turned and scooped her keys from the kitchen counter. “Let's go. It's going to take me some time to find his letters in all those boxes, and I want this finished tonight.”

Tanner grabbed her arm before she could run off without thinking about this. “If he did something wrong, it's not your job to cover up for him.”

She looked at where his fingers wrapped around her arm, right above the thick band of her bracelet. Beneath his fingers, he could feel her pulse speed.

Against his better judgment, he let his thumb slide across her wrist, grazing the smooth satin of her skin. Goose bumps rose along her arms, and Tanner had to fight the urge to rub his hands over her to warm her.

Roxanne's voice dropped to a near whisper. “I know him. If he broke the law, he didn't know he was doing it.”

“Then he's not the kind of man who would ask you to become an accomplice, either. You need to slow down and think. Do you really care about him enough to go to prison for him?”

Her golden eyes flared with determination. “I love him. I'd die for him if I had to.”

Whoa. Okay. So maybe they were more than just friends.