“Or you can climb in and out the bedroom window.” Amused that his non-talkative sister had sent the brash soldier into a tailspin, Jax bit back any further helpful comment when Roark’s burner phone beeped.
“We can’t sleep twelve hours a day, bébé!” Roark shouted at the phone.
Well, he was probably shouting at the security camera. Ariel only sent texts.
Roark held up the phone. “She says she sleeps days. I can sleep nights. No problem. What about the other eight or twelve hours? Loan me airfare to your ranch. I can handle desert.”
“The ranch has no phone reception, no wi-fi, remember? Tell Reuben and Ariel what you need, and they’ll help. Once you’ve got the goods on your dad or whoever, we can all work to put him away. When you’re out of danger, you can start making money to take care of whatever needs taking care of, all right?”
“None of this is all right! I just wanted food and to hook up to the internet for an hour. How da hell did I end up in a cage?” He waved at the camera as if to erase what he said. “Sorry, bébé. But I need space.”
In Afghanistan, Roark had been kept in a cage and had developed pretty severe neuroses. But comparing the bungalow to a prison was a little extreme.
“Look, Ariel obviously trusts you. That doesn’t happen often. She needs help adjusting to this place as much as you need a place to stay. You won’t find a better hide-out with internet connections anywhere. No one visits except Evie’s family, and they won’t say anything. Send a list of what you need, and we’ll see that you get it. You have Reuben to be your wheels. Try it for a few days, heal, see what happens.”
Jax jiggled the coins in his pocket. His job was talking people into things, not understanding how they felt about it. He just knew Ariel wouldn’t have offered the recliner if she hadn’t wanted to. She was like him that way. They had both been raised privileged and selfish.
“Food,” Roark said in resignation. “That skinny sister of yours nibbles likes a mouse. Make groceries, and I’ll cook for her.”
“I’ll bring a microwave so she can heat it up at midnight. Don’t think she’ll sit down for a real meal,” Jax warned.
“She’s got a microwave. She don’ need any of us for anyting. Bring extension cords and a porch shade. I’ll work outside.”
“It’s August! I’m steaming in my shoes just standing here. You’ll melt.” Jax couldn’t believe he’d said that to a man who had survived the plains of Afghanistan.
“You sound like Evie. Go back to shafting shysters. I got t’ings to do.”
Roark let himself back inside.
Jax’s phone pinged. Ariel’s text readcrab.
“Takes one to know one,” he told her security camera.
He’d send Roark a bucket of crabs to cook, and then he’d contact a few sources about that explosion, see how the investigation was going.
He didn’t want a man on a Wanted poster living in his sister’s house for long.
Seven
Skinny.Ariel looked down at herself and shrugged.So, I’m skinny. He’s tall. It happens.
She usually ate at 16:00 and started work at 17:00. She didn’t have time to fix a meal if she meant to keep her schedule. Besides, she didn’t want to be in the kitchen while Roark was wandering about.
She should have shut out Jax and Roark the way she usually did, let them solve their own problems. But Roark’s dramatic arrival had her feeling edgy—and vulnerable—and shot her routine to hell, so she couldn’t think straight. He filled the house with his explosive energies. She needed space tothink.
She hid in her room until she heard Roark in the shower. She grabbed cheese and crackers and flavored water from the fridge and took them to her computer desk in the front room. Then she pulled the pocket door between her and the kitchen. She could do this, one baby step at a time. As Jax had said, they owed Roark big time. And she owed Jax for finding her the perfect home.
She might be a nutcase, but she didn’t lack integrity. She paid her debts. Besides, she enjoyed mysteries.
She’d pulled the stolen call center phone numbers from Roark’s burner phone while he was sleeping. Using the numbers, she’d begun a painstaking search. The bank account had been relatively easy to locate once she worked out the area code of outgoing numbers. There weren’t many banks in that region. And once she was in one account, she could trace transactions to others.
What any of it meant was questionable. But she enjoyed watching the spiderweb develop like an intricate puzzle.
Lost in the labyrinth she was creating, she nibbled cheese and shut out the world as she’d learned to do. If Roark was still in the house, he didn’t intrude on her concentration.
At 18:06, her security warned of someone on the drive. She opened the computer screen on Jax unloading bags on the bench she’d designated for deliveries, presumably for her guest, since she hadn’t ordered anything. She returned to work—until Roark trotted around the house to retrieve the bags. He was back in tank top and frayed shorts, looking like a muscular, bronzed gym rat.
He thought she was skinny. Fine. She returned to tracing slimy snail trails on the internet.