Chapter 7 #2
That was all the answer I needed. While I was sleeping, Eli would be investigating without me.
I helped him unpack the bag of barbecue, deciding to let it go for now.
Eli had in his head that I was going to be like a pet he could tuck away in the safe house and let out for investigatory experiences he could control while he was running the show.
That wasn’t how this was going to work, but I wasn’t going to waste time arguing.
We unpacked dinner companionably, setting it out on the table. Eli slid me an unsweetened iced tea. “You said you didn’t usually drink soda, so I got you this instead.”
“That’s great. Thank you.” I took a sip, happily noting that he’d added a squeeze of lemon. Half the iced tea was gone before I realized how thirsty I was.
“What did you get done on the case while I was sleeping?” I tried again, but Eli just shrugged a shoulder.
“Not a lot. Touched base with Maddox. He’s the one on our team who’s working with the hackers at Sinclair.”
“On Emily Shaw?” I asked.
“On a lot of things,” Eli said, cagily. “Some of which intersect with Emily Shaw. They’re also trying to see what they can find out about your van.”
At the mention of my van, a little of the starch went out of my spine. “Yeah,” I said. “Did they figure anything out?”
“The preliminary tests found explosive residue. Strongest coming from below, from the undercarriage.”
“Whoever I saw coming out from under the van planted the bomb and then took off.”
“Probably,” Eli said.
I let out a long breath. “I feel like such an asshole,” I said. “Because I should be focusing on how lucky we are that no one got hurt.” I reached up to touch the scrapes on my cheek. After a shower and some moisturizer, they weren’t that bad.
Eli watched the movement of my hand. “It could have been a hell of a lot worse. You’re right. You and a lot of other people are very lucky that all the bomb did was gut your van.”
“I’m grateful,” I said, picking up my iced tea.
“But?” he asked.
“But goddamn, I’m so bummed about my van,” I said, my voice choking a little at the end. I shook my head, trying to cast off the emotions tangling in my chest—grief, anger, loss.
Fear too. But it was after all the rest. I still couldn’t really believe my home was gone.
“You said you built it yourself?” Eli asked, raising an eyebrow.
Had I? I thought I remembered something like that from the police station, or maybe the ride there. It didn’t matter.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “I watched a lot of videos. My dad helped me find the Sprinter van. It was just a shell, but he told me, ‘Invest in a good engine. It’ll take you farther.’ He helped me with a lot.
He likes woodworking and carpentry. Neither of us are experts at all.
” I rolled my eyes, remembering how many things we’d screwed up and torn back out, then put in again.
“But we had fun, you know? I was still working my regular job while we built the van, and doing the podcast in my spare time. It was just fun. There was a lot of love in there. And everything was exactly how I wanted it. I worked my ass off to get it right.”
“Tell me about it,” Eli said, picking up a rib and biting in.
I could tell he was genuinely interested, so I did, describing the cool Murphy bed fold-out desk setup I’d created and the small but functional shower-bath.
“Wait, you had a toilet and shower in that thing? It didn’t look big enough. You had it parked on a downtown street.”
“I know,” I said with a grin. “It wasn’t big.
” I eyed him. “You probably would have struggled with it, to be honest. Though there was an outdoor hose hookup, if I was somewhere not in the middle of a downtown area and wanted to stretch my arms while I showered. But yeah, we put in kind of like a waterproof closet and had a portable incinerating toilet set up. I could pick that up, put it outside in the”—I raised my hands to do finger quotes, “hall by the kitchen, and take a shower.”
Eli gave me an appraising look. I’d impressed him.
“That’s pretty sweet,” he said. “I’ve slept in some rough places on the job. There’s something to be said for being able to take your home with you.”
“It saved me a lot of money on hotels, that’s for sure.
Plus, when I was somewhere a little quieter than the middle of a city, it was a great recording studio.
” Abruptly, the weight of loss hit my chest again, and I let out a gust of air.
“Ugh, I had the best fucking equipment too. I’d finally upgraded to the mic I really wanted.
When I find the asshole who blew it up…”
I trailed off, and Eli let out a little laugh. “You’re going to what? Shoot them?”
I glared at him. I couldn’t argue. I didn’t even have a gun, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t completely pissed about what they’d taken from me.
“It’s very possible we’re not going to find them,” he said with more kindness than I would have expected.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I know, but a girl can dream, right?”
“Of revenge and murder? Sure,” Eli said, the side of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Considering whoever did this blew up your home and froze your accounts, that seems reasonable enough.” He picked up another rib. “When this is over, are you going to rebuild the van?”
“Definitely,” I said. “And it probably won’t take as long this time. There are things I’d do differently, so now I’ll have the chance.” I shrugged, struggling to hold on to the bright side.
It wasn’t in my nature to let obstacles get me down, but the last twenty-four hours felt like a pretty big fucking obstacle, and my supply of optimism had a limit.
“How long have you been working for Sinclair Security?” I asked, curious about the man whose side I’d be glued to for the foreseeable future.
“A few months,” he said, and I sat back in surprise.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed you were new.”
Eli hesitated, as if considering what to tell me, and said, “My team used to work independently. There are six of us: me, Maddox, Ryder, Miranda, Shade, and Wren. But we,” another hesitation, “joined Sinclair Security a few months ago.”
“And do you like it?” I asked. “Working for a bigger company? Something more corporate rather than the six of you running the show?”
Eli shrugged and shook his head, but said, “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s different. There are more rules. Cooper and his brothers run a tighter ship than what we’re used to. But they’ve assembled a solid team, and I don’t mind having that behind me.”
“More resources? I could see that,” I said. “I like working alone most of the time. But sometimes, I think it’d be nice to have a team. Somebody else’s brain to pick, you know?”
“Yeah, exactly.” He flashed a quick grin. “Though so far I’ve been dodging the assignments that require a suit.”
I snorted at this. I understood the joy of not having to wear a suit to work, too.
“What’s your specialty?” I asked, trying not to imagine Eli in a suit. As good as he looked in his T-shirt and cargo pants, I’d bet he’d be incendiary in a suit.
“What do you mean?” he asked, obviously playing dumb.
I didn’t dignify his feigned question with a glare. “Well, you work in private security. I’m assuming you have a military background?”
His eyebrow shot up. “What makes you guess that?”
“Statistical probability. And something about the way you carry yourself.”
He nodded. “You’re not wrong. I was Army. A Ranger. Explosives are my thing. I’m not too bad with a keyboard, but not like Emmett or Maddox or—” He cut himself off.
I’d hit a wall, I could tell, so I let it go.
I wasn’t going to find out Eli’s secrets by asking for them, but I wanted to keep talking.
I liked being alone, and I was choosy about who I hung out with.
But even when he was being grumpy, Eli was better company than I’d had in a long time.
“What else do you like, other than hacking and blowing shit up?”
“Mostly it’s stopping things from blowing up, but either way.” The grin he flashed me went all the way to his eyes, lighting them from within.
Hot. Definitely hot. Even if the topic wasn’t.
“I wish you’d been around when that guy was under my van,” I said, knowing even if he had, everything had happened too fast to stop it.
His smile faded. “Yeah, me too,” he said in what I thought was total honesty. “I’m just glad you weren’t inside.”
“Agreed.” I grabbed another rib from the plate between us. We chewed in companionable quiet for a full minute.
“I’ve handled protection before,” Eli said after swallowing. “Not my favorite thing. I usually try to avoid direct client interface.”
I thought for a moment about what he was really saying. “You like digging into the work versus customer service.”
“That’s one way to put it,” he said.
“And I’d bet working with clients means you have to put on that suit you hate,” I smirked at him. I didn’t have a thing for expensive-looking men, but something about Eli’s raw masculinity wrapped in a refined suit was intriguing.
Okay, it was more than intriguing; it was flat-out hot.
“That has something to do with it,” Eli admitted.
“I don’t love getting dressed up either,” I said, “though I’ve learned wearing the right clothes can get questions answered. It’s funny what putting on some reading glasses and a blazer and twisting my hair up will do to make me seem authoritative enough to talk to.”
“Like a costume,” Eli said.
“Exactly.”
For a moment, we smiled at each other in complete accord. Based on that one moment of unity, I tried again. “What’s the plan? What do we do next?”
“You stay here behind that locked door,” Eli said flatly.