and see if we can spot Fion Connor?”
Pierce’s lips twitched in an almost-smile. “How often have you been working with A.J.?”
“Twice a week with Annie, and the same with Whitney Boulay. It’s been a crash course. They knew I wasn’t going to let it drop until I had answers and revenge, so they’ve been trying to get me up to speed. I’d like to think we’ve made progress.” There was just enough doubt in my voice to sound like I wanted Pierce’s approval, and that ticked me off.
He grunted. “Makes you dangerous.”
Confusion diluted my anger. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’ve had enough hand-to-hand to think you’re prepared for any shit that comes along, but you haven’t had any real-time experience. You’re a scary woman right now, Everly Gray.”
I shrugged it off. “Scary isn’t all bad. I’ve been thinking about how to find Connor’s hidey-hole, and sent Annie an email earlier asking her to trace all of Mitch’s assignments back to their origin. She should be able to do that, no problem. If we find a point of origin for most, if not all of the emails, maybe we can pinpoint her location. It’s a better bet than hanging around the restaurant. That’d be noticeably suspicious.”
“Did you try the phone book?”
There were times when I just wanted to kick Tynan Pierce in the shins. Granted, those moments were usually motivated by my acute embarrassment, but still. Did he always have to be so pragmatic? “Um, no. I haven’t used a phone book in ages. Do they still make them?”
His grin was so full of bad boy laughter I had to do something. Physical combat was out of the question, so I went for next best thing—curled my hand around his neck, stretched to tiptoes, and planted a kiss over that adorable grin. And then I stepped back to survey my handiwork. Worked like a charm. Grin gone. But darned if there wasn’t an empty spot in my chest at the loss.
Pierce must have read the change in my mood, because he rescued the moment with a playful tug on a lock of my hair. “Ah…flippydoodles, wasn’t it? Let’s hit the information desk at the village entrance for a phone book, and then eat. I need food.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard Pierce say he required something as mundane as food. Like a normal person. It bordered on scary, and I slipped a peek at him. I should have noticed how gray his cheeks were long before this. Confidence in my observation skills plummeted, mixed with concern for this man who’d always been bigger than life, and it left me completely tongue-tied. I nodded, slipped my hand into his, and squeezed.
He rubbed his thumb over my wrist with a gentle stroke. We were okay. And he’d be more okay after I fed him. Considering the double dose of scones and jam I’d recently consumed, it’d be best if I avoided food for the next week, so I planned to skip eating and spend my energy bringing Pierce up to speed. Meat, potatoes, any man-food the Tea Room had to offer, should turn that gray tinge into his usual warm olive coloring.
Also, a distraction might help. “You know the phone book isn’t going to help us locate the place I’m looking for. Finding her official estate has to be ridiculously easy, since she seems to leave a lasting impression. It’s the place she doesn’t want us to find I’m interested in.”
“Gotcha.” Pierce held the Tea Room door open and motioned me through. “But we need to start someplace, and the obvious is—”
“Obvious?” I smashed my lips together to keep from grinning. Pierce was in teacher mode and I didn’t want to screw up a chance to learn stuff by distracting him.
I was rewarded with his signature grunt. “Be a good time to test your surveillance technique.”
The gruff man I’d encountered earlier was still behind the counter. Looked like he was sorting receipts, and when he spotted me he did a double take. Guess there weren’t many people who downed two large scones with clotted cream
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