Page 7 of Only the Devil
“Not watch. Bad word choice. Just be nearby. I won’t be in your hair. You won’t even know I’m around.” He tilts his head. “Come on. This is a sweet gig. Don’t take it from me.”
Thanks to his shades, I can’t see his eyes, but he’s still got this puppy dog look about him. A flash of our first conversation comes out of nowhere. We’d been standing around with FBI and local cops swarming the place, and he’d been making small talk because he worried I was going into shock. All things considered—it was nice. He didn’t have to do that.
Sweet gig?
“You’re going to play Call of Duty all day long,” I say, divining the truth.
“I know you’re a badass and can protect yourself. It’s not like a protective detail is coming out of your paycheck.”
“What’d Rhodes do? Rent an apartment across the street for you to stay in?”
“Directly across the street. Furnished. I told you. Sweet gig.”
“How’d they find a place across the street?”
“Someone within KOAN knows the owner. It’s KOAN by the way, not Rhodes. I work for KOAN, not Rhodes.” He says it like it matters–because it does. “I don’t think the condo is typically a rental. Just sits there for when they have business in town.”
My hotel stay is racking up a bill on my credit card, and I’m about to spend the afternoon apartment hunting, which will be a bigger hit on my finances. I don’t actually want to sign a lease, as I’m hoping to uncover what’s needed to put the slime away pretty quickly.
I stop walking and turn to face him fully, hands on my hips. “How big of an apartment did Rhodes rent? Is there room for a roommate?”
Jake’s expression shifts, that slow smile spreading across his face like an early morning sunrise. He tilts his head, studying me with new interest. When he speaks, his voice drops lower. “You mean a girlfriend?”
I lift my chin, meeting his challenge. “Roommate.” The word comes out clipped and final.
“Actually, Rhodes is hoping you’ll stay with me. He’s convinced this guy you’re looking into is bad news. And, based on what I’ve read…” He lets it hang there and takes a long sip out of his straw.
“Which guy?” I ask, wondering if Rhodes has found more than I have.
I found a connection to this place, but I took the job on the inside to better understand the players and to figure out exactly what they’re doing, because Alvin Reed was onto something when he was building the class-action suit. I have his scribbled notes and a partial list of names. And that day, when I sat on the sticky linoleum, clearing his stuff out before the new tenants took over, I gained conviction. He’d been onto something, and I owed it to the man who practically raised me to follow it through.
“Phillip Sterling. The head honcho. His company, Sterling Financial, has financial ties to the Middle East and Europe. Guys got friends in high places. If there’s more to it, if he’s got ties to some of the darker sides of finance, MacMillan might be onto something when he worries about you.”
I sip my iced latte, considering, and conclude this will wrap in two weeks tops and Rhodes can afford to waste his money. “Tell you what. I’ll take Rhodes up on the free place to stay.”
He grins, but there’s a tell—relief. The soldier wants permission to help.
“And if you want to hang out and play games all day, be my guest, but you gotta keep the toilet seat down and clean up your mess. And no more of this bullshit about being my boyfriend. I doubt we’ll run into Ms. Weaver again, but if you meet anyone else…you’re a friend, my yard guy, my mechanic, I don’t know, insert your career of choice, but not my boyfriend.”
Chapter 3
Daisy
On Thursday morning, first-day jitters flutter in my stomach, but I’m careful to get ready quietly since Jake is asleep right outside my bedroom door—and some skills never leave you. I perfected sidestepping my mother’s moods.
The apartment KOAN found has a slightly deceptive two-bedroom description. In reality, it has one bedroom with an attached bathroom, plus a landing with a view down to the open kitchen and living area. Jake insisted on taking the fold-out sofa on that landing.
Do I feel guilty? Yes. I know I’ll wake him every morning getting ready, and he’s sleeping in an open loft with nothing but air between him and kitchen sounds. Still, he insisted that staying together makes his job easier, and if all goes well, this is temporary.
With one last look in the mirror, I lift my backpack, and slowly turn the knob on the bedroom door, only to discover there’s no one on the sofa.
Huh. When he said he’s up early, he meant it. I wonder where he brushed his teeth.
My boots clunk down the carpeted stairs, and as I approach the kitchen, I find the answer. Jake’s toothbrush and toothpaste are sitting neatly on a paper towel beside the sink in the half bath that’s tucked beneath the stairs. I’ll tell him to use the main bathroom—he’s doing me a favor as much as I’m doing him. I don’t know that the realtor would have found me a month-to-month lease with immediate availability, and I didn’t want to keep paying for a hotel.
I also shouldn’t plan on visiting the Java Mama every day, but on account of it being my first day, I skip the coffee pot and head out the door, checking my phone on the way. There’s a text from Rhodes waiting.
Rhodes
