It’s good to hear from you, Gretel. Yes, I told your father I thought the October 8-K was suspicious. Cedrick had discussed the acquisition of two small suppliers to me in July, but the 8-K listed three. When I asked whichcompany had been added and why, no one would give me an answer.
I’d be happy to speak with you further. I’m so sorry for your loss.
She pushed the blankets off and got to her feet as silently as she could. The rest of the house felt still as a church, with everyone else asleep after their late night. Jamey in particular had been out late, disappearing in Liam’s car and then returning a couple of hours later, looking disheveled with suspicious red stains on her clothes but promising she’d found some more documents that might help.
Gretel crossed the wood floor noiselessly, throat tightening as her eyes fell on the dining table, still covered with their work from the night before: her dad’s laptop opened in front of two chairs where Liam and Aisha had been searching for clues; the nearby pile of financial data and files from Stone Solutions that Diesel had made sure to neatly organize and stack; the handwritten delivery list that Jamey had appeared with the night before.
Gretel reached the table and carefully tugged the handwritten delivery list closer, gaze on the wordsMetallic Tailors, circled with its question marks.
“Where there’s murder, there are other crimes,” she echoed under her breath. “You really think an obsessive weirdo like me doesn’t know all about shell companies?”
Jamey had likely disagreed with every word Gretel had ever written onEyes on Empaths. But when the worst had happened, Jamey and her friends had been there for Gretel, made sure she had company and a warm place to sleep, given their best efforts to solve her parents’ murders.
She scratched out a note on a spare piece of paper, then carefullyclosed her dad’s laptop and tucked it under her arm. She grabbed up the records, and two minutes later, she’d packed her few items away and was slipping out Jamey’s front door.
As she took her seat in her car, she pulled Vivian Marist’s business card from her purse.My personal number, Marist had said.Call anytime.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Gretel muttered, dialing the number as she pulled out of Jamey’s driveway and into the street.
Dawn had finally arrived, setting the truck’s snow-covered windows and windshield aglow with a silvery sheen. Grayson knew damn well that they couldn’t stay in the forest forever; they needed to get up, try to get the truck running, and get the hell back to civilization. And they would.
As soon as he managed to let go of Reece.
“Wecan’t,” Grayson said against Reece’s mouth as their lips locked on to each other yet again. “We got to get out of here.”
“But what if I’m still a hypothermia risk?” Reece was fully on top of him, his smaller, slighter body a heavenly weight on Grayson as he lay on his back flat against the seat. “Shouldn’t you just stay right here and keep me warm?”
Grayson groaned, even as he was unable to resist running his hands over that soft skin. “I don’t think we got far enough from the lab to relax. There’s gonna be a response team.”
“There sure is.” Reece arched into Grayson’s touch even as he shifted to kiss the sensitive skin of his throat. “But I’ll handle them.”
“You can’tthrallfolks just so we can keep fooling around.”
“I really can.”
Grayson tightened his arms around him. “Mr. Davies.”
“You really think the formal name treatment is going to turn meoff?” Reece lifted his head, and then pressed one long, lingering kiss to Grayson’s lips. “Fine,” he whispered, like hehadn’t just left Grayson dazed and dizzy. “Let’s see if we can fix the truck.”
It took a few more minutes, but finally they emerged from the sleeping bag. As Grayson had suspected, their clothes were still damp, despite being spread out on the dash in an attempt to dry them. But it turned out that under the truck’s back seat, Reece had kept not only the sleeping bag they’d bought on their trip to Vancouver but also Grayson’s backpack from that same trip, which still held enough of his purchases that they managed to get a full set of dry clothes each.
Grayson had always kept basic safety equipment on hand, but in the few days Reece had the truck, he’d also acquired an emergency battery charger and a specialized diagnostic code reader. Grayson scraped the windshield and windows as Reece examined the damage.
“Flat tire first,” he finally said. “Then we’ll try and get the engine running.”
Grayson had changed a flat more than once but never on a steep and snowy mountainside, so he shut his mouth and followed all of Reece’s directions as they jacked up the truck and changed out the punctured tire for the spare under the bed.
Wheel in place, Reece popped the hood. “I think this tough girl mostly took cosmetic damage,” he said, sounding pleased as he scanned the engine. “With any luck, we’re dealing with a drained battery from the lights running while we were unconscious.” He raised his head. “Can you get behind the wheel?”
“Really?”
Reece gave him an amused look over the engine. “So you can start her up when I tell you. And then you can move right back into the passenger seat where you belong.”
“The hell I will,” Grayson muttered under his breath, squeezing himself into the driver’s seat with difficulty, set as it was for Reece’s much shorter frame with no power to move it back.
After one false attempt, the V-8 finally kicked in with a deep rumble that shook the trees.
“Yes,” Grayson heard Reece crow. He dropped the hood into place, looking over it to Grayson. “She’s going to need a body shop for those dents, but she’ll get us back to Seattle.”
