Home > Real Men Do It Better (Tempting SEALs #3)(17)

Real Men Do It Better (Tempting SEALs #3)(17)
Author: Lora Leigh

Stepping through the doorway she came to a stop as first Joe, then Craig, moved from the kitchen. Both men were carrying coffee cups and had their weapons hanging on their belts. Joe had been armed for the past week she knew, but never so blatantly.

“Maggie.” He paused just inside the living room, his brown eyes watching her worriedly. “Come on in, honey. Get some coffee.”

Craig shot him a startled glance at the endearment.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Craig Allen was part of the DEA unit Joe commanded before Grant’s death. He had been unaware of her involvement with Joe before her marriage, just as everyone else had been.

“We have some information.” His expression wasn’t comforting, but at least he wasn’t pretending they were strangers.

Unconsciously, her hand dropped to her stomach as she fought the nervousness rising inside her. Joe’s eyes followed the movement, his nostrils flaring as his cheekbones flushed with lust. Response trembled up her spine, sending a small tremor through her body as he watched.

Maggie swallowed tightly, drawing her gaze from Joe to Craig, who watched them both suspiciously.

“I can do without the coffee for now, then.” She breathed in deeply, feeling an insidious sense of disaster building in her chest.

“Come here, baby.” He obviously didn’t care what Craig saw or thought.

He crossed to her, drew her into his arms, and kissed her cheek comfortingly.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised.

Maggie glimpsed Craig’s expression. Surprise definitely, and suspicion. But the cold calculation that lurked behind both made her nervous.

“What’s going on?” She let Joe lead her to the couch, sitting down nervously as Craig took the chair across from them.

“Your house was trashed yesterday.” Craig wasn’t one to beat around the bush, either.

As he sat down, his hazel eyes watched her closely, looking, she knew, for a guilty, frightened response.

“It was Grant’s house.” She shrugged. “If they just got around to trashing it …”

“It wasn’t trashed in the typical fashion,” Craig broke in. “The carpet was ripped through most of the rooms and pulled back. We’ve had a team going through it, but we’ve found nothing beneath any of it. We got there before every room was hit, but we’ve found nothing, and we know whoever went through it didn’t find anything.”

“The carpet?” She shook her head in confusion. “Why rip away the carpet?”

“They were looking for hidden pockets in the floor,” Joe said as he curved his arm around her shoulders, his fingers rubbing at her arm in comfort.

She glanced at him with a frown, shaking her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“The carpet could have been carefully cut to blend in with the nap of the material, but could be pulled away to access a hidden safe or loose boards in the floor where objects can be hidden,” Joe explained.

Maggie glanced back at Craig. He was watching her closely, doubtfully. He thought she knew where the information they were looking for was hidden. God, she wished she did.

“Did you check all the rooms after you saw where they were looking?”

Craig nodded shortly. “We had a team stripping carpet all night last night. We found nothing.”

Maggie rubbed at her forehead. Where would Grant have hidden that information?

“It could have been a lie,” she finally whispered, turning to stare at Joe dismally. “The journal was a lie, Joe. He could have lied about the information.”

“He had it, Maggie.” Craig informed her coldly.

She couldn’t sit still. She had fought to calm the fear rising inside her for the past week, to take one day at a time and pray the information would be found. Rising to her feet, she paced across the living room, listening distantly to Joe and Craig discussing the search the night before.

The house Grant had been so proud of would be a mess. The two-story brick colonial design had been a major buy for him. He had bragged about that house incessantly. Because it was better than Joe’s. Because as much money as Joe’s family obviously had, they weren’t real fond of sharing, because Joe’s house was so much smaller, so much less classy. She remembered how he would laugh about that. How Joe’s house, right down to the dank, unkempt basement, was so much less superior than the one Grant had managed to buy.

She paced to the edge of the room, turning back to stare at the two men as they continued to talk. Joe was frowning thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed as Craig explained the areas searched and how in-depth it had gone.

Grant wouldn’t have hidden anything in his own house. He would have known that was the first place they would look. He was smarter than that. He was demonic. He would have found a way to hurt Joe, even in this. She was actually surprised he hadn’t tried to frame Joe instead of her.

“We found several hidden caches of cash. Some drugs.” Craig was shaking his head. “And some more journals. Man, he was sick, Joe.”

Maggie watched Joe’s expression even out, become distant. Grant had nearly destroyed a part of Joe. The two men had been friends for most of their lives. Joe claimed him as a brother, a confidant. He hadn’t known the cruel, bitter side to Grant that she had.

“Any clues in the journals?” Joe leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees as he watched the other man.

“Pretty much what we found in the others.” Craig shrugged. “Different topics, same shit.” He shook his head wearily. “We really didn’t know him, did we?”

Grant had often laughed over that. How the others didn’t really know him, had no idea how much smarter he was, how he could always stay one step ahead of them. Especially Joe. Poor dumb Joe, he would snicker, who would never know how easy he was to fool, how easy it was to use him. Right down to the car Joe had treasured. The ‘69 Mustang Joe cherished …

The Mustang. Grant had hated that car. He always sneered when he spoke of it, with an edge of smug satisfaction.

That taunting, self-satisfied gloat had always entered his voice.

She turned from the two men slowly, praying she appeared casual as she moved into the kitchen, toward the coffeepot. She didn’t know Craig well enough, and she could be wrong. And, oh God, if she managed to lead Joe to the information after all, he was never going to believe she had nothing to do with Grant’s illegal activities.

   
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