The message felt weak, but he had no idea how to make it stronger.
And, he realized as he stood there on the sidewalk, he didn’t know what to do with his time, now that he was unemployed. So he made his way home and took a shower, and only when he was sagging under the steam and spray did he remember how long it had been since he last slept.
He’d left his phone on the bathroom counter so he’d be able to hear it if it rang, but he still checked it when he got out of the shower. Damn, he was antsy. Because of the investigation. Because he was curious, and wanted to see Wade’s reactions to his theory. That was all.
The apartment was warm, with late-spring sunshine streaming through the windows, so Jericho didn’t bother dressing. He stripped his bed and put clean sheets on it, slipped between the layers, and for about ten seconds, he was content. Clean, comfortable, and safe. Did he really need more than this?
His mind wouldn’t cooperate, of course. Overtired and jittery, it insisted that he needed much more, a sense that he was having an impact on events. Justice? That wasn’t a concept he thought about all that often. But some sense of control over his own destiny? Hell yeah, he needed that. He didn’t like being manipulated, not even if the manipulator was Wade Granger. Maybeespeciallywhen the manipulator was Wade.
He dozed off in the grumpy state and woke with the sun shining at a different angle through his window. He was still groggy and thought about going back to sleep, but then he heard it—a repeat of the sound that had woken him. Someone was knocking on his door.
Tempting to ignore it, until he remembered who might be looking for him. No time for a shirt or underwear, just jeans from the laundry basket, done up as he crossed to the front door. Nobody had buzzed to be let into the building, but if it was Wade—Jericho took a quick peek through the peephole. Yeah, Wade. He wouldn’t have had much trouble getting someone to let him in. Slick bastard.
Wade raised his hand to knock again, and Jericho pulled the door open. Wade’s fist froze in the air for a moment, then the fingers opened into a casual wave. “Jay. You got all dressed up for me?”
Jericho stepped back from the door, wishing he was wider awake, or more dressed, or hell, less dressed, but best not to think about that. “Where do you live, Wade?”
For a change, Wade seemed a bit surprised. “My home was recently destroyed in a tragic fire, the cause of which has not yet been determined by Mosely’s finest.”
“You lived at the bar?”
Wade stepped inside, glanced around the room, and said, “Well, I can only aspire to this level of luxury and refinement.”
Jericho bit back his retort. He hadn’t contacted Wade in order to fight about accommodations. “Must have made it a harder decision, then, to burn it down instead of repairing it. Or maybe not—I guess it would suck even worse to workandlive in a shithole.”
Wade raised his eyebrows. “I thought we’d already had this conversation. The bar wasn’t insured, Jay. I didn’t burn it down as part of an insurance scheme, no matter what your fed friend says.”
“No, not as an insurance scheme,” Jericho agreed, and he glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s a bit early, but my schedule’s so messed up I don’t care. You want a beer?”
He turned and headed for the fridge, and he couldfeelWade following behind him. He could feel the interest, the building excitement, the strange synergy between them that made it difficult to know which of them was feeling what.Thiswas what Wade was after. Well, he’d probably wanted money or power or whatever the hell else from his criminal activities, but from Jericho? Wade wanted this. This conflict, this confrontation. Things had been simmering for too long, and it was time for them to boil over. Wade wanted that, and Jericho wanted it too.
They both stayed calm and controlled, though, as Jericho pulled out two bottles and twisted the lid off one before passing it to Wade.
“Your shoulder’s healing well,” Wade said. His body didn’t move, but somehow his gaze made the puckered scar feel warm. “Does it still hurt?”
The topic change was disorienting. Damn it, Jericho was the one standing there with no shirt on—Wadeshould have been the one getting flustered. But Jericho didn’t think he’d ever seen Wade flustered. “No, it doesn’t hurt,” he managed after a pause that felt far too long.
“Good,” Wade said softly. “I’m glad.” He took a drink. “So, you wanted to talk?”
It seemed stupid, now, like the big showdown at the end of aScooby-Dooepisode, but damn it, Jerichodidwant to talk. “You burned down your own bar,” he said. “Not for the insurance, but the place couldn’t have been worth much anyway, and making yourself into a victim threw suspicion off you, right?”
Wade raised his eyebrows. “Threw suspicion off me? As I recall, it brought the feds down on me with the rage of a thousand pulsing hemorrhoids.”
“But the feds have always been looking at you. And since they assumed it was insurance fraud, it pointed them in the wrong direction. Meanwhile, you’ve been working on the bikers. You’ve been trying to set them off, either getting them to go to war with each other or with the Chicago crew.Youburned down their clubhouse, trying to stir them up.”
“I’m a very busy man, apparently,” Wade said. His whole body was relaxed, his smile was pleasant—and his eyes were sharp. “But why would I do all this? Am I just an anarchist, bent on creating chaos?”
“You’re doing it because you want to take over the bikers’ territory,” Jericho’s voice wasn’t as calm as Wade’s, but he was in control of himself. And he took the time to sip his beer and watch Wade, and the lack of any reaction told him he was on the right track. “You’ve got the information from the thumb drive, but it’s not all that valuable if other people are already using the drop spots and are already supplying the distributors, is it? It’s a crowded marketplace up here, and a man needs to create his own opportunities.”
“Haven’t you been listening to the feds? I’ve been a criminal mastermind in these parts for some time now, as I understand it.”
“A mastermind, maybe, but you haven’t built an organization. You’ve been a one-man show. Now you’ve got Nikki, and maybe you’re recruiting others. You know everybody, after all. You know who to tap when you need them.”
“Nikki? She mentioned that you’d been making wild accusations, but, Jericho, I’m hurt. You think I’d seduce someone close to you into a depraved life of crime?”
Wade’s eyes were dancing now; he was enjoying himself. And in a strange way, Jericho was too. “I absolutely think you would. I think you’d get a great deal of pleasure from it. And in Nikki’s case, you’ve got the added benefit of the kids. You can use them to keep her loyal.”
“I wouldn’t threaten children.”
