It Must Be Love

up?'

'Nothing,' was the best answer she could think up.

'What aren't you telling me?'

Gabrielle looked into Kevin's speculative blue eyes and not for the first time she thought about just coming clean. Then the two of them could secretly work together to clear Kevin's name. She thought of the confidential informant's agreement she'd signed. The consequences of breaking that agreement were very serious, but damn the consequences. Her first loyalty was to Kevin, and he deserved her honesty. He was her business partner, and more importantly, her friend.

'You look all flushed and bothered.'

'Hot flash.'

'You're not old enough for a hot flash. There's got to be more to this than you're letting on. This isn't like you. Are you in love with your handyman?'

Gabrielle barely contained a horrified gasp. 'No.'

'Must be lust.'

'No!'

A knock shook the back door. 'There's your boyfriend,' Kevin said.

She could tell by the look on his face that he really did believe she had the hots for her handyman. Sometimes Kevin thought he knew everything, when he was mostly clueless. But what she knew of men told her that was generally the case with all of them. She set the invoices on her desk and walked from the room. The thought of posing as Joe's girlfriend was disturbing. She moved through the back storage area, which doubled as a small kitchen. She opened the heavy wood door.

And there he stood in worn Levi's, white T-shirt, and black aura. He'd had his dark hair trimmed, and a pair of aviator sunglasses covered his eyes. His features were unreadable.

'You've come on time,' she spoke to her reflection in his glasses.

One dark brow lifted. 'I always do.' He reached for her arm with one hand and shut the door behind her with the other. 'Is Carter here?'

A thin slice of air separated the front of her peasant blouse from his chest, and her head was enveloped with the scent of sandlewood and cedar and something so intriguing that she wished she could name so she could bottle it.

'Yes,' she said and removed his grasp from her bare arm. She slid past him and down the alley to the far side of the Dumpster. She could still feel the impression of his fingers on her skin.

He moved with her. 'What have you told him?' he asked in a low-pitched voice.

'What I was told to tell him.' Her own voice was barely above a whisper when she contin-ued, 'I told him I hired my boyfriend to move some shelves.'

'And he believed you?'

Talking to her own reflection unnerved her, and she lowered her gaze from his sunglasses to the dip of his top lip. 'Of course. He knows I never lie.'

'Uh-huh. Anything I should know before you introduce me to your business partner?'

'Well, kind of.'

His lips compressed slightly. 'What?'

She really didn't want to admit that Kevin thought she was in love with him, so she prevaricated just a little bit. 'He thinks you're madly in love with me.'

'Now why would he think that?'

'Because I told him you were,' she said, and wondered when lying had become so fun. 'So you better be extra nice.'

His lips remained in a flat line. He wasn't amused.

'Maybe you should bring me roses tomorrow.'

'Yeah, and maybe you should start holding your breath.'

Joe scribbled down a fake address and Social Security number on a W2 form and soaked up his surroundings, noticing everything without looking at anything. He hadn't worked undercover for almost a year, but working under- cover was like riding a bike. He hadn't forgotten how to con a con.

He listened to the soft tap of Gabrielle's retreating sandals as she walked from the room, and the annoying click-click-clicking of Kevin Carter's pen as his thumb pumped the end of his Montblanc. When Joe had first walked in, he'd noticed two tall file cabinets, two narrow floor-to-ceiling windows on Gabrielle's side of the room, and a stack of assorted junk on her desk. On Kevin's desk sat a computer, wire in basket, and a payroll book. Everything on Kevin's side of the room looked like it had been strategically measured, then placed with a ruler. A real uptight control freak.

When he finished with the W2, Joe handed it to the man sitting directly across the desk. 'I don't usually fill one of these out,' he told Kevin. 'I usually get paid in cash, and the government never has to know.'

Kevin glanced over the form. 'We do everything nice and legal around here,' he said without looking up.

Joe leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. What a lying little shit. It had taken him about two seconds to determine that Kevin Carter was guilty as hell. He'd arrested too many felons not to know the signs.

Kevin lived way beyond his means, even for the got-to-have-it-now nineties. He drove a Porsche and wore designer everything, from his shirts to his Italian loafers. Two Nagel prints hung on the wall behind his desk, and he wrote with a two-hundred-dollar pen. In addition to Anomaly and his appraisal business, he had several enterprises around town. He lived in a chunk of the foothills where a man's value was judged on the view of the city through his living room window. Last year he'd reported a combined income of fifty thousand to the IRS. Not hardly enough to sustain his lifestyle.

If there was one common thread that pointed to criminal behavior, it was excess. Sooner or later all crooks get cocky enough, doped up enough, or in debt enough to ignore moderation.

Kevin Carter was a living poster boy for criminal excess, and he might as well be walking around with a neon sign pointed at his head. Like the many others before him, he was foolish enough to flaunt his excess and cocky enough to believe he wouldn't get caught. But this time he was in over his head and had to be feeling the pressure. Fencing antique candlesticks and gravy boats wasn't quite the same as fencing a Monet.

Kevin set the form aside, then looked up at Joe. 'How long have you known Gabrielle?'

Now, Gabrielle Breedlove was a different story. At this point, it didn't matter if she was guilty or as innocent as she claimed, but he would like to know what made her tick. She was much harder to peg than Kevin, and Joe didn't know what to make of her-other than the fact that she was nuttier than a jar of Skippy. 'Long enough.'

'Then you probably know she's too trusting. She'll do just about anything to help the people she cares about.'

Joe wondered if that help extended to helping those she cared about fence stolen property. 'Yep, she's a real sweetheart.'

'Yes she is, and I'd hate to see anyone take advantage of her. I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I can tell you're the kind of guy who works just enough to get by. Probably not a lot more.'

Joe tilted his head to the side and smiled at the little man with the big complex. The last thing he wanted was to alienate Kevin. Just the opposite was true. He needed to get the guy to trust him, convince him they were buddies. 'Oh yeah? You can tell all that after knowing me for five minutes?'

'Well, let's face it, there can't be a lot of money in being a handyman. And if your business was doing well, Gabrielle wouldn't have fabricated a job for you here.' Kevin wheeled his chair backward and stood. 'None of her other boyfriends have needed jobs. That philosophy professor she dated last year could have used a personality, but at least he had money.'

Joe watched Kevin walk to a tall file cabinet and open a drawer. He kept quiet and let Kevin do all the talking.

'Right now she thinks she's in love with you,' he continued as he filed the W2. 'And chicks don't think about money when they've got it bad for your body.'

Joe stood and crossed his arms over his chest. That wasn't exactly what he'd been told by the lady herself. So much for her claim of never lying.

'I was a little surprised when you walked in here this morning. You're not the kind of guy she usually