“This is the way to the sentinel houses?”
He nodded once. “Yes. There are four off this road along the pipeline, set back and obscured by the landscape.”
“You found them by following the pipeline?”
“Back in January, when I started the assignment, I didn’t announce my intention to survey the houses to Nautical Oil, so no one knows I’ve been poking about.”
“Really? You’ve been poking about?” I gave him a mock suspicious glare.
“Actual poking.” He flashed me a grin. “Not sexy poking.”
I chuckled. “So you, what? Found the money strewn around in the houses?”
“Not necessarily. I wanted to trek the length of the products pipeline, determine how we could improve security and/or discourage thievery. Most of the sentinel houses are occupied, but the sentinels don’t do their job. The house where we’re headed now was vacant. I decided to spend the night before trekking back and that’s when I discovered the cash in the empty garage, stacked in a corner.”
“How odd.”
“Yeah . . . well, maybe not. If the money is from illegally refining oil—and I’m assuming it is—then the cash I found has likely been laundered. The corrupt members of the government responsible for this mess need to store the money someplace before it can be deposited or used for bribes. These sentinel houses are out of the way, and since the thieves in charge apparently control most of the sentinels, where better to hide the money?” He steered us off the unpaved road and a short ways into the underbrush before cutting the engine.
“Do you think it’ll still be there?”
“Only one way to find out.”
I frowned at our surroundings, not seeing any sign of the house or the pipeline. “Are we here?”
“No. We’re a half mile from the main products line, and another mile from the sentinel house. But this is as close as I’m willing to park. Once I determine whether it’s occupied, I can jog back for you.”
I’m sure my facial expression was in communion with my words as I said, “What are you talking about? Jog back for me? I’m not staying here.”
Greg grumble-sighed. “Fine. But you let me scope the house first before you approach.”
“It’s like you’re talking, but everything out of your mouth is nonsense. If one of us should scope the house it should be me.”
He gritted his teeth and even in the dark I could see the unhappy lines around his mouth. “Fe, this isn’t about who is more capable, this is about how I will lose my fucking mind if you’re hurt. So, in the interest of my sanity, will you please do me this favor?”
“You don’t think I’ll lose my sanity if you’re hurt? Who do you think nailed herself into a shipping crate to rescue you from an illegal oil refinery guarded by goons? A sane person?”
He closed his eyes and his head fell backward, against the headrest. “Please, dar—” He audibly exhaled. “Please.”
I didn’t agree. I didn’t disagree. Instead, I opened my door and grabbed my equipment belt and holster. Greg also exited the truck and armed himself, casting me furtive glances. When we were locked and loaded, he led the way and we jogged in silence.
Actually, I jogged in silence, my feet and movements soundless. Greg jogged like a large man who used to be a Marine.
Crunch.
Crash.
Smash.
Snap.
Crack.
Amateur.
He also looked over his shoulder every so often to make sure I was still there.
A little over fifteen minutes later we were standing outside a dark house. I could feel Greg’s eyes on me from where I ducked, scanning the windows. The porch was lit, but no other light source was visible.
“How about you do a sweep of the outside, see if there’s any cars parked on the street or near the garage,” my husband whispered in my ear.
I knew what he was doing. He was trying to keep me out of the way so he could get in the house first. He was making me crazy.
I leveled him with a narrowed glare. “If you promise to stay here, I will do a sweep around the house.”
“Okay. I promise.” He nodded once, pulled me forward for a quick kiss, then set me away. “You are very sexy when you’re in commando mode. I think we should resurrect this look when we get home, maybe replace the spandex with leather.”
“It’s not spandex, it’s a Kevlar blend.”
His voice lowered to a growly whisper. “I’m so turned on right now.”
Despite the situation, I had to stifle a laugh. “Can we discuss boudoir costumes later?”
“Fine. Just throwing it out there.” His hand was on my upper thigh and he trailed his fingers from my hip to my knee. “Okay, go do the sweep. I’ll stay here.”
I hesitated. He’d agreed far too quickly. And he was trying to distract me with talk of sexy times. Ultimately though, having no reason to linger, I skipped off and circled the house.