To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella) Read Online Free Page B

corner suite and asked for directions.
    “Three floors up, middle of the hall.” The rotund, pink-cheeked gentleman let out a chuckle after he answered me. “Whatever you’re seeing Ms. Hunt about, you’re going to come out the winner. You have moxie, young lady. Moxie.”
    I winked. “Yes, I do. And I will absolutely be the winner.”
    When I returned to the reception area, the irritating clerk was whispering madly into the phone, arms gesturing wildly. Apparently people didn’t wander unannounced into offices at Steele Management.
    I half expected Jayne to be waiting for me when I stepped off the elevator, but no. It was a security guard. I whipped out my cell, dialed Jayne, and handed the phone to the guard. “Just tell her Everly Gray is here to see her.”  
    In less than a minute, he handed my phone back. “To your left and three doors down. Sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Gray.”  
    Jayne sat behind a sleek wooden desk with an array of spreadsheets fanned in front of her. A spark of sympathy fluttered in my chest, but only for a moment. According to Mitch, she loved this stuff. Besides, it wouldn’t do to show a moment’s weakness in front of my potential sister-in-law. Not when she hated me.
    I twirled into her office, doing a fancy spin that rustled my full skirt and jingled my bracelets, and then I planted my hands on her desk. “So what do you think? Do I look the part?”
    Jayne leaned back in her chair and clamped her lips together, but a smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. “You definitely look the part,” she said primly. “The bigger question is—can you play the role?”
    I dropped into an industrial beige chair, slipped off my sandals, and tucked my feet under my skirt. Tweaking Jayne was too much fun to pass up. “Yup, I can play the role. But only if you level with me. What exactly is going on here?”
    She eyed me, her doubt leaking all over the room, and I knew she wasn’t going to tell me everything. But at least if I could read her body language, it would be an improvement over the gibberish she tried to pass off over the phone. She stood, pushed the door closed, and retreated behind her desk, hands folded primly on top of the spreadsheets.
    “Parker and I are looking for someone who’s been transferring funds from specific charities into an offshore account. Whoever is manipulating the funds is skilled and careful.”
    I turned my hand, came within a hairs-breadth of grazing the chair with my fingertips, then thought better of it and relaxed both hands into my usual light fists. It was an automatic protection posture to keep from picking up a bunch of images I didn’t want to see. “Doesn’t seem like a psychic fair for needy felines would be tempting entertainment for a felonious individual.”
    Jayne ran her hand around the back of her neck, copying Mitch’s signature agitated move. “No. I’m working this from a different angle.”
    I leaned forward and flicked a cream colored envelope from the top of a stack sitting on the corner of Jayne’s desk. “Uh-huh. Want to share what that angle might be, or are you planning on offering me as a sacrifice to the undead?”
    Jayne stood, leaned across her desk, and jerked the envelope from my hand—but not before a very interesting image of her with Parker showed up on my internal monitor. They were definitely an item if the way he was fingering that bit of lace on her camisole was any indication.  
    “Not a sacrifice,” Jayne said through compressed lips. “The initial invitation included an RSVP and went to all of our regular supporters. These are specific invitations, including details, for those who responded, so I know exactly whose dead relatives will be making an appearance.”
    Anger ripped through my chest then hardened into a cold ball. I slipped my bare feet into my sandals and pointed to the invitations. “Surely you’re not planning to feed me information about the dead relatives of those people before