Page 53 of Lone Star

The last was harsh – too harsh.

Axelle sucked in a quick, shocked-sounding breath.

But Eden took it in stride, nodding. “Quite right. Well. I think you’ve given me enough to start with.” She stood, and offered a smile – this one the smooth, professional smile of a hired PI about to get to work. “I’ll see if your husband can point me toward any leads, Axe and I will put our heads together, and then hit the ground running, as the Yanks say.”

“Thanks,” Michelle said.

When they were gone, she snuck another look at her computer screen reflection, and wished she hadn’t.

Nineteen

“So that’s your old lady, huh?” Candy had a whiskey in his hand, and the first few swallows had taken the sharper edges off his discomfiture. He needed to talk to Michelle, but he wanted to do it later, when they were alone. For now, Fox had followed him into the chapel.

Fox shrugged. “I don’t put labels on things,” he said lightly – too lightly. He slid into Jinx’s usual chair and sprawled back in it, one boot propped on the opposite knee, half-drunk beer held on his thigh. The picture of casual, competent assuredness. Candy knew it was a cultivated persona – but that Fox had the goods to back it up. And it did make him feel calmer, having the guy under his roof again.

“You trust her?” Candy pressed, just as lightly.

Fox’s expression didn’t shift, but his gaze lifted, bright blue through the screen of his lashes. Michelle’s eyes were the same color, and held some of the same inscrutable mystique – but Fox’s were on a whole different level. Almost inhuman.

He held Candy’s gaze a long moment, before he said, “I wouldn’t have brought her if I didn’t.”

“She’s a PI?”

“And was MI6 before that. Above your paygrade, really,” he said with a wide, sharp grin.

“I’m paying her?”

Fox tipped his head. “Some. I think that’d be polite. The discount rate, we’ll say.”

“Hm.”

Fox sipped his beer. “You don’t want me here.”

“I do, actually. Coulda used you days ago.”

“But?”

“I didn’t think you’d come with an entourage.”

Fox’s mouth tightened, the first betrayal of any emotion. “The girls wanted to come, and I wasn’t about to tell them no. And the kids are going stir-crazy in Tennessee. I needed a problem to throw them at. Don’t act as if you travel alone, mate.

“Your problem, I think,” he continued, before Candy could speak. “Isn’t that I brought so many people with me. Or that I came.”

“I said I was glad you’re here,” Candy reminded.

“Your problem,” Fox went on, “is that your wife called me, and didn’t tell you about it. Am I right?” When Candy didn’t answer right away, Fox chuckled. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Candy fought the urge to grind his teeth. He said, “My wife can call whoever she wants. You’re her uncle. I’m not surprised she reached out.”

Fox’s grin widened the tiniest fraction. “Yeah, you are. I saw your face when you came in. You looked like you’d been slapped.”

“Did you come here to play psychiatrist?” Candy asked, as calmly as he could at the moment. “Or to actually help me catch whoever’s doing this?”

Fox shrugged. “I can do both.”

“Yeah, well, as the guy in charge of this situation, I’m telling you to do one, and knock it the hell off with the other.”

Fox shrugged again. “Fair enough. Tell me what’s been happening.”

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