Rooted in Danger (Blackthorne, Inc.) by Odell Terry

Author:Odell, Terry [Odell, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-04-19T03:00:00+00:00

~~~~~

Fozzie forced himself to face Torie. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes held countless questions. He waited. Ten breaths later, she shook her head in puzzlement and grabbed her books, then disappeared into the bedroom. The door closed short of a slam, but he didn’t hear the click of the deadbolt. Did that mean she wanted him to follow?

Bloody hell. Women.

Okay, so he should have been honest with her from the get go. He hadn’t actually lied. Merely left off some bits and pieces. But hell, he’d as much as admitted he cared about her. Why had she stormed off? She could have thrown her arms around him and thanked him, right? After all, he was using his vacation time to watch her arse. She didn’t have to know he was doing it because he cared about more than her curvy arse, nice as it was. He was definitely not going into that L-word territory again. What difference should it make? She’d been in trouble, and he wanted to make sure she was all right. That’s what he did and not only on the job.

Crap.

He flipped the laptop open and swigged his beer while he waited for the search engine to reappear.

Might as well drain the results of the first bottle. He set the beer down and went to the small bathroom off the kitchen. On his way back, he noticed a scrap of paper on the floor. Must have fallen out of Torie’s books. He bent and picked it up. A sealed envelope with Torie’s name on it. He looked at the closed door. Maybe he’d give her a little more time to herself. He laid it on the desk and entered Abbott’s name into one of the databases Blackthorne subscribed to. And waited. This was what Jinx loved to do. Fozzie wondered if things at Blackthorne had calmed down enough so he could grovel and get Jinx to do some of this research.

No way. The boss would never approve, and getting Jinx in trouble wasn’t going to do either of them any good.

The screen flickered, and he turned his attention to his search results. He grabbed the pen from the desk and searched for a notepad. When he couldn’t locate one nearby, he jotted notes on the back of the envelope he’d found. Abbott had done time. He’d have to check to see if that connected him to Palmer. He tried to ferret anything out of the man’s employment history that was food-related. Although the jerk could be a truck driver who delivered stuff to restaurants anywhere in the country.

This was getting him nowhere, unless down the road to a nagging headache counted. He glanced at the closed bedroom door again. Then at the sleeper sofa. So, he’d have a headache and a backache. Unless he apologized. Women expected that. Even when you hadn’t done anything you thought was wrong. They’d pick up on something. Hell, Torie apologized for everything. She probably expected it.

He logged out of the search, pushed his chair back and crossed the room.

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