Out of Reach (Can't Help Falling Book 2), page 22
"Now, he's ready," she teased. "A fresh diaper, a warm bottle, and he'll be ready for bed."
"These things-" He swallowed, afraid to move. "Don’t leak, do they?"
"You can never be sure." When her lips twitched in a sexy smirk, all he could imagine was kissing the hell out of her.
He wrinkled his nose. "I call dibs on the bottle."
While Teagan settled in to feed a clean-diapered Joey, Alyssa joined MaryJo on the couch. Engrossed in the hockey game, she glanced up, distracted. "Hey, Lyss." Before she could tuck her feet up, her friend grinned. "Pop told me the engagement news." A fleeting frown marred her brow. "Maddie strikes again?"
In sweats and a scrunchie, MaryJo looked as though she’d spent the day playing basketball rather than hacking into the servers of the City of Boston and the Honorable Mayor Theodore Robbins. "Just you wait, Mariela. You may not be at the top of her list yet . . . but you’re on it."
"What do you mean?"
Alyssa shrugged. "It’s only a matter of time before she turns her attention your way."
Following her gaze, MaryJo glanced down at her shirt, only then seeming to notice it looked strikingly like a pajama top. She sighed. "Damn, I did it again. I forgot to put on real clothes." She checked her pants as though not quite sure what she'd find. "I’d like to see Madeline try to find someone for me. She’ll have her work cut out for her," she admitted.
"That's not true." Alyssa patted her friend's hand. "But I'll have fun watching."
"I’ll be the science project that blows up in her face." She nodded toward TJ. "If I had to be fake engaged-- he's definitely the guy I'd wanna be fake-engaged to."
"This is unbridled Stanhope meddling at its finest."
"Your mother pulled a fast one." She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. "She wants to see you happy." MaryJo's gaze wandered to Teagan. "So, how's it going?"
Despite her neutral expression, her tattle-tale cheeks heated. "What do you mean?"
Her friend's eyeroll suggested a giant puhleeze. She leaned in. "When you get within three feet of him, the drool around your mouth is a dead giveaway."
"I'm not saying he's . . . not attractive."
"Because you can't." Warm, brown eyes turned incredulous. "He's hotter than the sun." Thankfully, Teagan's back was turned, Joey on his shoulder as he headed down the hall. "Have you-"
"MaryJo-"
"Okay, that's a yes." She drew her glasses down her nose. "He can't look like that and not be phenomenal in bed."
She darted a glance to the kitchen. "Ssh-- my mother will hear you."
"Why deny her the pleasure of celebrating?"
"I don’t need my mother to find a man."
"Because you were doing so well on your own?"
"Teagan is a fling," she countered. "He'll be gone in . . . twenty-three days. It's not as though this thing is built to last." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's just sex."
"I believe your mother would be thrilled to know you were having sex again."
In a desperate bid to change the subject, Alyssa floundered for a topic. "You think she invites you over here for innocent Sunday dinners with your dad. Instead, she feeds you a steady diet of Maddie-isms."
"What are you talking about?" MaryJo’s velvety eyes widened behind her glasses.
"She lulls you into a stupor with a plateful of carbs. Next thing you know, she’s setting you up with her accountant."
"That’s a bad thing?"
"It’s the worst kind of manipulation. She’s so good-- you don’t realize you’ve been played."
MaryJo bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Unless her accountant is hideous, sign me up. And give me one of her carb stupors any day. Maddie's gravy is better than sex." She nodded to her father, seated at the dining table, in an intense conversation with Teagan. "Besides-- anyone who can put up with him gets my vote for sainthood."
Alyssa snorted. "You’re pathetic."
"Your mom hooked you up with the hottest guy I’ve seen all year. If that’s pathetic, I'll take it." Still staring at Teagan, she sighed. "God-- I'm practically Matt's sister, too. Where has he been hiding him all these years?"
"Army-- when he’s not traipsing the world's most dangerous hotspots, he appears to be somewhat of a recluse."
MaryJo pushed her glasses up her nose. "You’ll make the perfect couple."
"Hey-- I’m social."
"Work doesn’t count." She waved a graceful hand in dismissal. "He doesn’t look like a recluse. TJ looks like he knows he’s a stud." She turned, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It’s time, Alyssa."
"For what?" She snatched up a pillow, knowing exactly what her friend meant.
"Moving on."
Resisting the urge to hide behind the pillow, she waited to hear a few potentially uncomfortable truths. Mojo had an uncanny way of reading people that, when not directed at her-- was fascinating.
"It's not still Paul, right?"
"It’s never been about Paul," she admitted with a sigh. Her former fiancé was a dick. "I'm grateful I never married him." Why didn't anyone understand it was bigger than that? They weren't trustworthy. As a gender-- they just didn't stick around. After Paul's desertion, she'd become a firm believer in low expectations.
A decade earlier, Teagan jumped from her window. In three weeks, he'd disappear again. And she knew that. She accepted it. It wasn't as though T was setting her up for disappointment.
"Then TJ is the perfect candidate to get you over the hump. He’s temporary. . . he’s gorgeous-- and BTW, he keeps looking over here."
She raised miserable eyes to meet her friend’s knowing gaze. "I agree- But . . . I know it can't go anywhere. He's re-upping with the Army. Apparently, he doesn't mind the constant threat of death hanging over him. And I'm . . . not getting any younger." Surprised she could spill multiple truths while the object of their discussion was only fifteen feet away, Alyssa released an exasperated breath. "Once he's gone-- I'll find someone . . . you know-- normal. An everyday, rest-of-my-life kind of guy."
"Meaning-- you'll settle?"
"Basically . . . yeah." Alyssa closed her eyes. "I want-"
"Babies. I know." MaryJo's eyes flared with compassion. "Wow. You've been holding that in a long time."
Glancing at Teagan, she tried to quell the sudden doubts. Tried not to admit she would be thrilled if he never left again. That if he asked her . . . anything-- she'd say yes.
"Honey-- why don't you just tell him?" Her voice dropped to a consoling whisper.
"It's not like that." She couldn't be in love with him. He was leaving. Loving him would only set her up for misery. Love was out of reach. She plucked at the fringe on the pillow. Suddenly realizing there was a lump in her throat, she glanced away. "Can we-"
"Stop talking about this?" MaryJo impulsively squeezed her hand. "No problem." She snapped off the TV no one was watching. Nodding to the dining room, she rose gracefully to her feet. "Your fiancé seems to know a great deal about all sorts of illicit activities."
Alyssa was left wondering how everyone else seemed to know more about Teagan than she did. What was she doing wrong?
"With his knowledge of surveillance and recon-" She shook her head. "TJ won’t talk, but I bet he knows a ton about counter-terrorism, too." Her friend's tone was enthusiastic. "Pop could really use him at the firm."
She hung back before entering the dining room. "It would take the pressure off me," she confided. "Dad wants me to leave banking and work with him full-time." She rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine?"
Alyssa didn’t want to contemplate the brief flare of hope her friend's statement caused. "No chance of that," she acknowledged. "He prefers warzones to suburbia."
As they entered the dining room, MaryJo shook her head. "If he ever tires of military service, he'd make a great criminal."
***
"What do you think? This is starting to look bigger than doctored photos, right?" TJ sat back in his chair, aware that while the old marine lifted a forkful of pie to his mouth, his brain was processing information. They'd run through the attack in the basement-- cautiously. TJ glanced to the kitchen, always on the lookout for Maddie to be eavesdropping. He'd underestimated her the previous night-- putting her off with the promise of busywork-- but failing to assign a task. The result: he'd ended up engaged to her daughter.
Under the subterfuge of trash management, Sean had slipped out earlier to meet his friend in the garage. The cigarette butts were on their way to the lab. Sean's poker buddy had guaranteed a quick turnaround. "If we get a hit on the DNA-"
Mullaney silenced him with a glare. "Maddie, love-- is there any more decaf?"
A shadow at the kitchen door caught his attention. Hell-- she was standing right there.
Footsteps retreated back to the kitchen island. She turned on the faucet to cover her tracks. "Of course, darling," she called. "I'll bring it right out."
"Idiot-" Sean glared. "Have you learned nothing about her?"
"I heard the water. She was washing glasses-" How was it possible he could be taken in by a grandmother? "I'm sorry."
Mullaney raised a scruffy eyebrow. "Make no mistake-- she never stays where you put her."
Relieved when Alyssa and MaryJo joined them, TJ realized it meant the end of his discussion with Sean. Since Maddie couldn't know about stalkers, he'd have to catch up with Mullaney later.
"Don't start without me," Madeline called from the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway with a hastily thrown together tray of coffee.
"Mojo-- whaddya got?" Sean leaned back in his chair.
She launched into a summary of her day inside the mayor's system. Since TJ had been in on it, he allowed his thoughts to drift. A DNA hit might lead them to Little Guy. Who would lead them to No-Key. Who could lead them to a third party-- if there was a third party. A connection that hopefully made better sense than two random guys fixated on Alyssa.
"I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that will speed up the process."
MaryJo's voice returned him to the conversation. "Tricks?"
Sean's daughter nodded. "I saw two locations where there are large blocks of data stored."
"That's unusual?" Madeline pulled up a chair, eyes sparkling, her cheeks pink with excitement.
TJ bit back a smile. Mama Lou had sometimes looked like that. Although, with five sons and the spare-- her expression had usually been one of weary resignation. Of water balloons catapulting from the attic window. Dents in the fender when she'd taught them all to drive a stick. That time they'd let the dog eat an entire pot of chili. The broom she'd beaten them over the head with to get them to stop wrestling in her living room.But on good days . . . when the school hadn't called her to retrieve one of those 'wild O'Brien kids'. When no neighbors called to rat them out with a Louise-- how the hell do I know which one did it? On her good days, Mama Lou's smile could light up a room.
TJ glanced up, aware he wasn't paying attention. Before he headed back to Mortaritaville-- he made a vow to see that smile again.
Chapter 14
On the drive home, Alyssa yawned. "Thanks for driving."
"I'd rather get home in one piece."
Teagan's matter-of-fact voice made her smile. "Did I hear right? Did MaryJo say she'd have this all figured out by tomorrow?"
"If one of those blocks of memory is the pictures, then it confirms what we originally thought-- it's someone in the mayor's office."
Alyssa turned, watching as he scanned the rearview mirror. "Are we being followed?"
"Hard to tell." He checked the mirrors. "Anyone tailing us knows where you're staying. And they know where your mother lives, so it's not a huge leap to guess where we're going."
"I overheard Sean say he's got someone staking out the apartment." She wondered whether he'd fill her in on what they’d been discussing before she and MaryJo arrived.
"T-Bone?" Teagan shot her a wary glance.
Alyssa smiled. "Howard. He's a vice cop but he works side jobs with Sean."
"Check this."Teagan tossed her his phone. "Sean was going to text me if Howard has any issues. Otherwise, we'll go in through the front."
"My mother still doesn't know about the stalker thing, right?" Alyssa knew she was making it more difficult.
"You said keep it from her." His glance urged her to change her mind. "It would be more efficient if we were all on the same page."
Alyssa tried to imagine how her mother would take it. "If you think she's meddling now . . ."
"There," he pointed out, after turning down the street. "That's one of our guys."
She whipped around. "The bearded guy? Or the t-shirt guy?"
"Our guys." Teagan nodded to the corner. "Did you see? He just signaled for his partner to move from the parking space."
"He's there . . . waiting to give us his space?"
"Don't fog up the window," he teased. "You could try being a little subtle."
Startled, she sat back in her seat. "This feels like a spy movie." She glanced casually to her right. "Where's stalker guy?"
“Last night-” Backing into the tiny space, Teagan paused. "And early this morning, they were perched under the magnolia."
"You're pretty good," she conceded as he wedged the Toyota in on one try . . . without any fender tapping. "Wait-- you mean last night . . . when we were practically-"
"Stripping each other?" Teagan's expression was chagrined. "Yeah-- not my finest surveillance moment."
Alyssa paused. Sometimes it was better to say nothing. A few minutes later, she was standing on the curb, breathing in cool night air. "Are they there now?" Trying not to look at the magnolia down the street, she lowered her voice.
"Probably not. With Howard loitering in the street, they’ll go to ground.” He scanned the street. “But they're somewhere around here. If that was Little Guy in the basement today, they'll expect us to be cautious."
"We scared them off?" Hope leaped in her chest.
"No." Teagan took in his surroundings as though there was no darkness. His body blocking hers, his senses on a hyper alert wavelength she'd never experienced. He tugged her into his side.
"How do you-"
"Not now, sweet." Radiating intensity, he suddenly seemed capable of seeing into the shadows. "Once we're upstairs," he added softly.
Heart in her throat, she was grateful for his presence as they closed the distance between the car and the safety of the old brownstone. She caught a glimpse of T-Bone, gold chains flashing under the streetlamp as he leaned into the window of Mullaney's twice rebuilt, ninety-four conversion van. Alyssa stifled a laugh.
"What?" Teagan kept his gaze on the street.
"That's Sean's van," she whispered.
"What the hell does he use that thing for?"
"He's got a pimpmobile in storage, too. An old Caddie he bought at the Fourth Precinct Vice Squad auction." Despite their worrying circumstances, she cracked up. "Any guesses how Maddie feels about them?"
"They don't appeal to her particular taste?" His grip on her hand tightened.
"I swear he keeps them just to annoy her." For that reason, she could kiss Sean.
Safely inside the building, Teagan's demeanor loosened one notch, to merely cautious. "What does T-Bone do for Sean?"
"Anything." Mullaney’s motley crew was a mixture of off-duty or retired cops, drug agents and former military, each specializing in his own niche.
"His clients tend to be opposite extremes. At one end of the spectrum-- he's got this super secret list of clients. State and federal agencies . . . corporations worried about espionage- MaryJo calls them his shadow clients."
Teagan raised an eyebrow. "Jeez-- he must be pretty good."
After a decade as a marine sergeant and another twenty years on the police force, Mullaney was sought after for cases that fell into gray areas-- when normal investigative procedure inevitably hit a wall. Cases requiring the finesse of a junkyard dog.
"Your mom helps with those?" His expression turned dubious.
"God-- no. But she wants to," Alyssa admitted. "At the other end are his wealthy, high-profile clients," she explained as they entered the elevator. "Mom works those assignments."
Teagan shook his head.
"I thought that too," she admitted. "But she knows everyone. She's a master manipulator," she pointed out. "She has access to social circles Mullaney couldn't fight his way into." Teagan smiled at the visual. "Now, he waltzes in on her arm."
"It's hard for me to picture your mother in the back of a van with a headset on." He held her arm when the elevator door opened. "Wait." He scanned the hallway before allowing her to step out. "Let's go."
After unlocking the four locks, he made her wait in the foyer while he searched the apartment. "Okay, come in."
Fatigue weighting her, Alyssa dropped onto the couch. "Maddie has some skills."
Teagan disappeared into the kitchen. He returned, handing her a glass of wine. "Like what?"
"Her brain is like a filing cabinet. She never forgets a thing. Like today-" Alyssa sat up as she remembered. "By lunchtime, she'd already honed in on most of the guys in Theo's photo."
He plopped into the chair across from her. "Sean assigned those to keep her busy."
"Well, she's taking it seriously." Alyssa rattled off the details Madeline had scored on each of them. "She's so good I gave her the grad student I'm researching."
"Grad student?"
Teagan leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. He'd loosened his tie and tossed it on the chair. His shirt unbuttoned . . . half tucked in. Alyssa swallowed around the dryness in her throat. How could he look so sexy just sitting there . . . deep in thought about work?
"This is what you went to the basement for?"
She sipped the fruity wine before settling into the couch. "Eight days before I was attacked, a kid called-- wanting to interview Theo about his time with the Ready Brigade." She met his gaze. "All that talk of SCUDS must have triggered my memory."
"What happened?"
