She Does Know Jack (6 page)

So why hadn’t he
or she been caught yet?

Shaking her
head, she retrieved her phone from the vent and walked into her bathroom.
Turning the shower on for noise cover, she called her uncle.

“Hello, hun. I
heard you did very well,” he said with a smile in his voice. “How’s the
investigation going? Have you spotted any of the notepads?”

She snorted.
“Yeah. I’ve spotted five of them so far, including the one in my room. All of
the contestants have access to them.”

“That doesn’t
help.” He sighed. “Have you gotten any of your hunches yet?”

She shook her
head, turning to face the mirror above the sink. “Only that they’re all hiding
something. And, well, I know you said you checked the crew but…”

“But what?”

“Matthew’s
cameraman, Phil. Are you sure he checked out?” She chewed her lower lip.

“Yes. Honest,
hun. Phil is fine. Why, what did he do?”

“Nothing.”  Just
a hunch. Her shoulders dropped. She was usually right. What if none of her
hunches panned out on this case?

“Maybe it was
just first day jitters.” His suggestion filled her with little hope.
“Seriously, don’t worry about the television crew. They’re clean. So is Jack’s
crew. They’re also pulling double duty as the escorts.”

“I gathered.”
She nodded, not that he could see her. “So who’s the walking barn door?”

Uncle Franco’s
chuckle echoed from the phone. “That would be Jack’s right hand man,
Rodriguez.”

“Good to know.”

“Did you get to
talk to Matthew?”

“Yes.” She
nodded to her reflection. “We had a private talk, and we’re on the same page.”

“How did your
meeting go with Jack? I know you don’t like deceiving him.”

“I don’t, Uncle
Franco. I hate it.” Especially since they actually had a past, even though the
former Ranger was unaware. At least, he appeared not to recognize her. She
frowned, unclipping her hair. “But it seemed to go well.”

Except when I
almost failed his test.
She’d been so close to kissing him. So damn close. She
could almost taste the heat, feel the velvety glide of his tongue… Thank
goodness common sense had kicked in and overridden her hormones
and
the
memory of his hot, talented mouth.

“That’s pretty
much what he told me a few minutes ago.”

Her hands
stilled. “You talked to him?”

“Yes. We discuss
our findings every night, so I
had
to question him about the
new
girl.”

She licked her
suddenly dry lips. “What did he say about me?”

“He said you
seemed all right for the moment, but he wants to feel you out further.”

The clip dropped
from her fingers and clanked in the sink. “What?” Once upon a time he’d gotten
a very in-depth feel of her.

“You know, talk
to you some more.”

“I see.” She
closed her eyes, and ordered her pulse to slow down.

“You might as
well get some sleep.”

Her lids slowly
opened and she sighed. “I’ll find a way to search the girls' rooms tomorrow.”

“Okay, just be careful,”
her uncle warned before he hung up.

Brielle sneered
at her reflection. “No involvement with anyone on this show. None.” She pointed
a finger at the mirror. “Been there. Done that. Bad mistake. None,” she
repeated, then turned off the shower and re-hid her phone.

Fifteen minutes
later, she fell asleep to the image of smiling blue eyes and a baseball cap.

T
he first full day at the mansion dawned
bright and sunny. Morning rays sliced through the gap in her drawn, taupe and
cream curtains, and spread a glowing line across Brielle’s coordinating
bedspread. She stretched and sent up a silent prayer that breakfast would keep
the contestants occupied long enough to allow her to investigate their rooms.

She’d just
stepped out the shower and was towel-drying her hair when a knock sounded at
her door.

“Coming,” she
called, slipping into her blue silk robe before opening the door.

Carla leaned
against the doorframe, looking bored. Danni clutched an apron and bit her lip
to keep from grinning, while Mandy held something behind her back. A frying pan?
Brielle’s heartbeats quickened. The girl wasn’t stupid enough to attack her in
front of the others or on camera, was she? Camera? Adrenaline cooled as her
mind rejected this visit as an attack.

“Okay, what
gives?” She glanced at the trio of cameramen behind the girls and tightened her
sash.

“You do,” Carla
spoke up, thrusting a spatula at her. “New girl gets to cook breakfast today.”

Brielle raised a
brow. “Is that right?”

“Yep,” Danni and
Mandy agreed, handing her the apron and pan. “I can’t wait to see what you cook
up.”

The threesome
ushered her down the stairs and into the kitchen without giving her a chance to
get dressed. When she turned to ask them what they’d like, a deserted kitchen
and swinging door met her gaze.

“Okay, western
omelets it is.” She examined the contents of the massive stainless steel
refrigerator, its steady hum and the ticking wall clock the only sounds to keep
her company. “So much for my morning exploration.” She pulled out a green
pepper and onion, and began to chop, trying her best to ignore the cameraman
standing in the corner.

“Mmm…smells good
in here." Mandy breezed into the room a few minutes later and dropped
Brielle’s mic-pack on the table. “I brought your microphone down. Bill hates it
when we forget to put them on.” She rushed to the door. “I’ve got to finish
getting ready. See you in a few.” The room grew quiet upon the blonde’s
departure.

Alarm bells went
off in her head. The woman had just been in her room uninvited. Great. Now she
had to examine her own room after breakfast all because of a stupid mic.

Not bothering to
hide a sigh, Brielle set the knife down and walked to the table. “Heaven forbid
the world doesn’t catch all my words of wisdom.” She rolled her eyes at the
smiling cameraman, then attached the pack to her belt and microphone to her
lapel. “Welcome back to cooking with Brielle. I apologize for the silence, but
we were experiencing technical difficulties.”

Several
uneventful minutes later, she removed the last of the omelets from the stove
just as the trio of fully dressed suspects waltzed into the kitchen, along with
their cameramen. At least the kitchen was huge, otherwise, a sardine can
comparison would’ve been in order.

“You girls have
great timing,” she said, placing the egg-filled platter on the table, next to
bagels, toast and fruit.

“Yeah, we’re
good.” Mandy smiled, spreading cream cheese on a bagel before loading an omelet
onto her dish.

“And capable of
many things.” Carla exchanged a glance with the others before reaching for a
piece of fresh fruit with her red-tipped fingers.

Brielle longed
to run upstairs to get dressed, but her investigative nature kicked in.
Grilling the suspects through small talk could provide her with some important
insight.

“Now, why
doesn’t that surprise me?” She smoothed her robe over her hips before she sat
on a stool.

Everyone
laughed.

Loading her
plate with toast, omelet and fruit, she began questioning. “Okay, you know what
I do and how I got on the show. What about each of you?”

“I’m a teacher
from Virginia who hopes to one day become a principal,” Danni answered first,
flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I know it’s not as glamorous as these
two, but I’m happy.”

Brielle took in
the woman’s simple, white, short-sleeved blouse and tan capris and thought she appeared
conservative but seasonal—like a teacher.

“I’d hardly
consider Mandy’s profession glamorous. She just has to keep her hands still.”
Carla smirked before a spoonful of grapefruit passed her red lips.

“A hand model
is
glamorous, too. There’s lights, and cameras, and sometimes I get to wear
diamond rings and bracelets.” Mandy stiffened under her aqua-cashmere sweater
and white jeans. “And it gets hot under those lights. When I’m done with a
shoot, I have to go straight to my favorite spa in Arizona to relax. I’m
looking forward to returning there when this show is over. They have the best
mud-baths and massages.” She sighed and picked up her discarded bagel, her
annoyance with Carla apparently forgotten.

Brielle transferred
her gaze to the conflict-loving contestant. Dressed in an ivory halter-style
sundress, Carla regarded her lazily. “What do you want to know, ballerina?”

Her brow rose at
the dance reference. The chick was baiting her, really? Not wise. “I know
you’re a porn star.”

Mandy laughed.

Carla’s gaze
never left Brielle’s face, but it did narrow. “Adult film actress.”

“Sorry, my
mistake.” She nodded, biting into her toast.

“I don’t see
what’s so funny,
Handy Mandy
. Once I make enough money, I plan to open
my own production company; then I can get on the other side of the camera.”
Carla transferred her gaze to the blonde. “What are you going to do? Take mime
lessons?”

“Oh, I always
wanted to do that.” Mandy jumped off her stool to pretend she was trapped in an
invisible box.

Brielle and
Danni laughed outright, while Carla shook her head and continued to dig at her
grapefruit. Their revelations seemed to fit her assessment of their characters.
Maybe Uncle Franco was right. Maybe her judgment and intuition weren’t off and
her past mistake on that other show was just that—a mistake.

Confidence
seeped into her shoulders and her chin lifted.

However, she
wasn’t foolish. It didn’t matter how charming the women were, they were her
suspects, and according to Uncle Franco, her
only
suspects. Still, she
wondered about Jack.

Brielle sipped
her juice and contemplated removing him from the list. There’d been nothing in
her uncle’s notes to exclude the man. And yet, her uncle had cleared him. She
trusted her uncle’s judgment; it was hers she questioned. Especially since she
was attracted to the former Ranger.

Damn, her head
was beginning to ache. She eyed her orange juice and wondered if it was too
early to add vodka.

“That wasn’t
bad, ballerina. Sorry to eat and run, but I’m out of here.” Carla slid off her
chair and sauntered toward the door.

“Me, too,” Mandy
exclaimed on her way out of the room, their camera-toting shadows one step
behind as they left her with a mound of dishes.

She pushed
thoughts of her case aside and focused on the kitchen. Expecting the third
contestant to follow suit, she was pleasantly surprised when Danni started to
clear the table.

“You’ll get used
to them. They do that all the time.” 

Working
together, Brielle discussed the show with Danni and discovered just how
uncomfortable the process made the teacher. The woman was semi-shy and less
confrontational than the others. But sometimes, it was the quiet ones you
needed to watch.

She’d just put
the last of the dishes into the washer when Mandy burst into the room.

“Come on, you
two,” the blonde said. “Bill’s here to tell us today’s activities.”

“Great.” Brielle
glanced down at her minimal attire. “But, it’ll have to wait until I pop
upstairs to get dressed.”

“Okay, but
you’ll still have to walk past him to get to the stairs.” She giggled, then let
the door go. The squeaking hinges echoed Brielle’s frustration.

“I can see it’s
going to be one of those days.”

Danni sent her
an apologetic look, and Brielle smiled, knowing she’d been through worse. Squaring
her shoulders, she followed Danni into the living room, and stopped dead.

Bill was not
alone.

Jack lounged in
the chair next to the producer, hands behind his head, a relaxed expression on
his handsome face. As his gaze settled on her, he raised a brow and slowly
smiled.

“Oh.” Brielle
blinked, surprised as well. The jury was still out on the pleasant part. Maybe
if she’d been wearing more than a silk robe. For the first time in her life,
she had an attack of modesty. Which was completely and utterly stupid. The man
had seen her naked. Sort of. He’d seen
Ariel
naked. And despite the couple
pounds she’d gained, it was still her he’d seen. Just a thinner version. And
damn, she really had to fight the urge to use her arms to cover her chest.

And that ticked
her off.

Red-faced, Bill
leaped to his feet and had the decency to look away, but not Jack. Hell no. With
a broadening grin, the bugger slowly lowered his arms to fold them across his
chest and stare openly at her.

Dodger
.

His gaze raked
her from head to toe, lingering on her tingling parts, turning her knees to
jelly and her heart into a Hemi engine. And she didn’t even want to discuss her
nipples. Traitors.