Chapter 30

It was Sunday, and after the mess with Lester, Mike wanted nothing more than to kick back with Joe and relax. But they still had Melanie and Cameron to deal with.

He and Joe had been out to Baxter Peak's trailhead the day before, scouting for a secure location where they could watch the parking lot without being spotted. They'd found a likely boulder that would obscure their position, then had taken a quick jaunt down the trail where they might have stopped to kiss the stuffing out of each other, only barely managing to call it quits before they were both naked.

There followed a night of food and fun with Mike's family, that included teasing the man about his extensive military paraphernalia collection while Joe trounced them all at Scrabble, after which…

Nope. Not the time to think about that.

Mike rolled his shoulders as they walked toward their hidey-hole. He held two coffees, while Joe toted a bag of donuts. They planned on waiting companionably for however long it took Mel and company to come and do their dirty work.

Joe ducked behind the outcropping first.

Mike followed, and…

His gag reflex activated without warning.

What the fuck?

The ground where they were about to hunker down was covered in gum wrappers that hadn't been there the day before.

Mike quickly turned his back and almost retched, but quickly drew in several deep breaths, getting himself shakily back under control before keeping his eyes completely away from the area around his feet.

It might be time to…

Dammit.

He hadn't told Joe, but the phobia he'd mentioned to her a few days before was chiclephobia. The fear of gum. He'd been honest with her about when the fear had come about; after a high school football practice. He just hadn't given her any further details.

They weren't the worst thing, but to him…

Mike remembered choking after a particularly rough tackle, not because of the hit, but because of the mass of gum he'd stuffed in his mouth. After the wad had become lodged, he'd gasped for air, unsuccessfully, until black spots had formed in front of his eyes, and…he'd known he was dying.

Luckily, the coach had seen what was happening, and having the training, he'd performed the Heimlich Maneuver. The gum had gone flying, and Mike had survived.

That was the good part.

The bad part? Even though the gum had popped out of his gullet, the incident had freaked Mike out for a good long time, afterward.

He'd never gone back to chewing, and had, early on in his kids' lives, made up some bullshit excuse so they'd never taken up the habit, either. By then, or course, Mike had mostly gotten over the trauma. Mostly. It was only times like these, when he was blindsided by evidence of the nasty stuff, that he suffered a flashback, kneejerk reaction.

He quickly got himself under control by coughing.

"Are you okay?" Joe's brows scrunched up while she regarded him carefully from the seat she'd taken on a fallen tree trunk.

"Yeah," Mike said, taking several swipes at the ground with his hiking boot, sending the pile of wrappers into the underbrush where they were eventually disguised with leaves. He'd know they were still there, but as long as he didn't have to look at them…

"Are you sure? You look a little green."

"There was some…dog shit on the ground," he fibbed to cover his actions. "And I, um, think a bug just flew into my throat," he fabricated, coughing again for affect. "I'll be fine in a second."

The look on Joe's face showed contrition…and confusion.

Could she have…?

Nope.There's no way she could have found out about his old phobia and planted those wrappers. First of all, how would she have located Cruz? And second, when would she have had the time to put them there? She'd been with him twenty-four seven since yesterday's foray. Besides, the Joe he knew wasn't that…

For sure, she wasn't that mean. But Mike had told her he was fully over the undisclosed phobia, so if she had been able to plant the trash, she'd only have done it, thinking it was a good joke. Which it would have been if the pile hadn't caught him off guard.

Mike quickly regained his equilibrium.

"Here's your coffee," he said, sitting on the log beside her.

"Thanks," she said, looking suspiciously relieved he'd changed the subject. "You want a donut?" She waved the bag at him.

"Maybe later. It could be a long morning."

Joe looked at Mike again, then at the bag, and scowled. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," he swiftly demurred, and popping the insert out of his coffee lid, he took a huge draw.

Joe eyed him skeptically again, but then leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek, after which she settled in and held her tongue.

Which was just what he needed.

Quiet time with Joe was cathartic. She never spoke just to be heard, and he'd already figured out that the tranquility she wrapped around herself often had legs. Their comfortable and companionable silences could last for hours.

Which gave Mike plenty of time to think. And it wouldn't be about the errant pile of gum wrappers, either. It would be about what had gone on at his house the previous night after Scrabble that had blown his mind.

Out of necessity—but also because he'd wanted her there—Mike had moved Joe into his home. Into his guest room to be specific. That's where she'd slept for the last three nights, which had sucked. But with the kids in the house, Mike hadn't wanted to freak them out.

Last evening, after they'd all eaten their evening meal together and were working on ice cream for dessert along with their games, Mike had figured it was time to talk with his offspring about what was going to happen with their mother in the morning. Joe, understanding the family dynamic, swiftly excused herself, leaving them with an encouraging smile as she'd disappeared outside.

Before he'd been able to get out a word, however, Tim and Dill had exchanged a look, and Dilly had taken over the confab.

"We're not little kids anymore," she'd begun.

Mike, puzzled, had nodded his agreement. "I didn't say you were."

"So that means we know what you and Joe have been up to," Dill had thrown at him.

Shit.How did they know? He and Joe had only continued their physical exploration of each other in the afternoons when the kids were still at school. Had one of them come home and?—?

"No." Dilly must have seen where his mind had gone. "We haven't caught you doing anything. But seriously Dad? The looks you give each other are a dead giveaway. You guys are getting busy, except for when we're in the house. Which is stupid."

Tim had piped up then, which had blown Mike's mind. His son normally let Dill do the talking when it came to serious shit. "It means you should stop pretending, and just let her sleep in your room already," he'd added sagely. "You're not going to damage our psyches for life or anything. We promise."

Mike hadn't known what to say. When had his children grown up and become so wise? "You… You're sure?" he'd sent out, wanting to be positive they were all on the same page.

"Of course." Dilly had taken over again. "Just don't make any gross noises where we can hear you, and we'll be fine."

Mike had almost choked. Gross noises?

Well… Joe was kind ofa vocal sex partner, and she'd somehow wrung a lot of interesting verbal reactions from him. That was for sure. But as far as Mike was concerned, there'd still be no sex while the kids were in the house. Having Joe in his bed, warm up against him, draping herself over him while they slept? Maybe a little hand-play… That would be enough for now.

More than enough.

"Thanks, you guys," he'd responded sincerely.

Dilly had waved that off like it was inconsequential, which was good, since Mike had to talk about the serious situation regarding Mellie.

"Now, here's what's on my mind," he'd started. "Tomorrow, Joe and I are going on the hike we told your mother about."

They'd both nodded.

"What are you going to do?" Tim had questioned. "Arrest her?"

It hadn't been said confrontationally, but there had been some trepidation in his son's voice.

"No. I'm not. Joe and I have decided that scaring her will have to do. From the intel we've been able to gather, she and Cameron will be attempting some kind of sabotage on my truck." Again, he'd decided not to tell them of the previous attempt where the pair had cut his brake lines. "We'll let them proceed, then we'll appear and tell them we have it all on video. They'll be warned that if anything happens to me or Joe in the future, my SWAT Chief and my BPD Chief have permission to open the file and prosecute."

Dilly had rolled her eyes. "Mom's not scared of you, Dad," she'd responded skeptically. "Or Mase. You think that will stop her?"

Mike nodded. "Joe's already set up a couple cameras to catch the action, and we'll make sure to point them out."

"Cameras…" Tim had pondered, then stabbed him with a knowing look. "You told us Mason had put up the ones here at the house, but it was Joe, wasn't it?"

"Smart," Mike had praised, grinning. "Yeah. Once she overheard the plot between your mother and Cameron, she took it upon herself to install surveillance to keep an eye on them. Which I didn't know about at the time." He hadn't lied about that part.

"I like her for you," Dilly had said, playing with her spoon in the remnants of her ice cream. "And even though I think you ought to do a little more to scare Mom, I understand you just want to get it over with and move on with Joe."

"Did I say smart?" Mike had added, tearing up a little. Damn, he had great kids.

When Joe had come back in, the duo had given her matching grins, told her she was golden for Mike's king-sized bed, then they'd all settled in to flex their competitive gaming muscles.

He and Joe had spent the night in each other's arms.

Mike had enjoyed the best sleep he'd had in over a year.

That was last night, but now…

Mike needed to prod Joe a little, having had time to think about her fierce joy of rivalry.

He cleared his throat. "You didn't, by any chance, have anything to do with those gum wrappers I kicked away, did you?" he asked as they sat companionably, side by side.

"Me? Why would you think that?" she replied, swiping a bit of raspberry jelly off her upper lip with her tongue.

God, her lips were so lush and…

Don't get sidetracked, Mike.

He focused in again and watched her face for any kind of tell, but didn't see any. Which could mean her innocence was real, or it could mean that after years of undercover work, she was just that good. And she hadn't exactly answered his question, had she? She'd prevaricated, asking one of her own.

Mike nodded at her, then reached for the donut bag. He'd bide his time to get the truth out of her. Due to her occupation, she was good at keeping a straight face, but Mike, by virtue of his job, was skilled in playing the waiting game.

The sound of a car's tires crunching over gravel hit Mike's ears.

A well-timed distraction.

"Is it them?" he asked Joe.

She drew up her app and examined her camera feed. "Sure looks like it." She turned the device to him.

"They're circling." Mike nodded. "Probably making sure we're long gone up the trail."

It took a few minutes for them to park, and when they finally did, the pair leaped from their car, going directly to his truck.

"I don't see any tools," Mike grumbled.

"No. Look," Joe pointed to the screen and enlarged the picture. "Cameron has a couple of small screwdrivers or nut-drivers, and Melanie has…a slim-jim?"

Mike growled. "Where the hell would she have learned how to use one of them?"

"YouTube," Joe answered without hesitation. "It'll show you how to do anything from creating a bomb, to baking a souffle."

Sure enough, Mellie got up on his running board, then jumped to his hood while Cameron kept watch. From her new position, his ex-wife leaned over and threaded the slim-jim between the frame and the glass.

Seriously, Mike was going to have to get a new truck. Not only was there no alarm to set on his old-ass vehicle, the locks were way too easy to jack.

It took all of four minutes for Mellie to pop it open.

"Huh. Somebody's been practicing." Joe's tone almost praised.

Mike huffed. But…yeah. If Mel's perfidy hadn't been aimed at him, Mike might have been impressed.

Once the door was open, Mellie jumped down, and Cameron got in the truck. He quickly went to work with his screwdriver, carefully prying around the edges of the horn pad in the middle of the steering wheel.

It became apparent what damage he was looking to inflict.

"They're going to loosen the nut that holds my steering wheel," Mike growled, watching as Cameron did just that.

Joe nodded. "With these mountain roads, they're hoping it'll come off while you're driving and we'll be sent over the edge of some cliff."

"That's a pretty big ‘if," Mike responded with a huff. "It's a good thing YouTube doesn't teach smarts."

Mike had taken more than one defensive driving course; learning what to do in case of any kind of emergency. If his wheel came off in his hands while driving, he'd immediately downshift and gently pump the brakes so as not to send the truck into any kind of spin. Not foolproof, but the odds would be in his favor.

Mellie and Cameron were idiots.

"Well, what do you say?" Mike asked Joe. "Is it time to confront them?"

"Sure," Joe said, but before she closed her app, he thought he saw her tap out a quick, one-word text. What the hell was that about?

He'd ask later. Right now, he had a duplicitous pair to scare.

Coming around the boulder with Joe at his back, Mike stopped abruptly.

Dammit.Another car was pulling into the lot. The last thing he wanted for the confrontation was an audience.

"Hold on." He put an arm out to stop Joe, and they both paused, watching.

The car didn't just park in a designated spot as Mike assumed it would. It pulled up right behind Mellie and Cameron's car, blocking it in.

The duo hadn't noticed yet, still intent on their task, but Mike sure was interested to know who was joining their op. Because it sure looked like it was backup. Was that who Joe had contacted? Had she been worried Mike would go off the rails, so she'd called in one of his team to intervene?

Mike watched, narrowing his eyes.

The car door opened.

A polished shoe came out first, then a leg encased in crisp khakis. There followed a giant of a man in a white, button-down shirt worn under a light summer jacket. A cap was perched on his head and aviator sunglasses sat squarely on his nose.

His jacket and hat said "FBI".

"What the hell?" Mike posed the question as his jaw dropped, but before Joe could answer, the man began to speak.

"You two," the agent barked at Mel and Cameron. "Out of the truck. Hands where I can see them."

That voice…

Mike swore there was something familiar about it, but he was unable to come up with anything, so perversely, he settled in to enjoy the show, finding that he didn't mind if the newcomer was stealing his thunder. The pair doing damage to his wheels had frozen in horror, and Mike was amused. They both looked—once they'd sighted the agent—as if they were about to piss their pants.

"Us?" Mellie's voice squeaked.

"Yeah. You," the agent barked again.

Cameron slid from the truck, then he and Mel complied with the orders, their arms thrust into the air.

"We're not doing anything officer," Mel began to placate in a tone Mike had heard many times before when she'd make up excuses for the lies that had permeated their marriage. "We heard that a friend of ours was having trouble with his truck, so we came to fix the problem while he's on a hike."

"Funny," the man said. "I have a video showing you breaking into this vehicle and tampering with the steering wheel."

Oh, snap.

Now Mike knew Joe had shared with the agent. He dragged his eyes from the tableau and turned to Joe, who was grinning like a fool.

"What's going on, Joe?" he asked with a deliberately gentle voice. He wasn't going to get up in her face until he found out the extent of her basically having tied his hands where Mellie was concerned.

"Shhh," she responded with a grin. "This is just getting good."

Mike grunted.

Joe didn't seem in the least bit repentant, which must mean she didn't feel as if she'd done anything wrong.

Most likely she'd done what she'd done, trying to protect Mike from himself. Sweet of her, but disappointing because it was now clear he wasn't going to be the one to put the fear of God into Mellie.

Muttering a bit, he settled in again to watch the show.

"We, uh… He said…" Melanie was tongue-tied, which was rare, and the agent wasn't having any of it.

"I've had reports of vandals breaking into cars at this trailhead," he said sternly. "That's why we installed the surveillance."

"Surveillance?" Mel rasped.

The agent simply pointed at the cameras, then waited.

"Sir," Cameron's voice broke. "You have the wrong people. This is the first time we've been here, and we know this truck. It belongs to her ex-husband."

"And I should believe that?" the agent countered. "If you know the owner of this truck, why were you disabling his steering?"

"We, uh, have an ongoing joke," Mellie lied. "He pulls something on us, then we pull something on him in return. We would have…left a note telling him he'd been pranked, then he would have found the problem before driving away."

God, that's lame.

Mike wondered how the agent would respond.

"I don't believe a word you're saying," the man spat. "I want ID from both of you."

"It's…in the car," Mellie told him.

"Get it."

After she retrieved what he'd demanded and had handed it over, the agent took pictures of their identification, then gave it back. "I'll be in touch with the owner of this truck to see if he wants to press charges. In the meantime, you can be on your way. But understand, you're on my radar. If the owner wants you charged, I'll be seeing you soon. If he doesn't, I still have eyes on you. If either of you so much as takes in a breath sideways where he or anyone he's associated with is concerned, I'll have you in cuffs before you can exhale." The lines of the agent's jaw hardened. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. We understand," Cameron said smartly while Mellie just nodded her head mutely, clearly scared out of her mind.

The agent nodded, then walked to his car, got in, and pulled it forward so Mel's car was no longer blocked in.

"Go," he said, when he got back out. "And do not try anything like this again."

Cameron and Mel scrambled to their car, started it up, and drove away with their eyes wide and their bodies shaking.

"Problem solved," Joe gloated impishly from behind Mike.

"And just who is that?" Mike asked, pointing.

The DEA and the FBI often had joint missions, so he was certain it was someone Joe had met while in the field.

"Why don't we go find out?" she grinned.

They walked out into the open where the agent stood, legs slightly spread, hands behind his back.

"I want to thank you," Mike began, extending a hand and having it taken in a strong grasp. "That was my ex, and she was definitely trying to disable my vehicle."

"Well, shit. I sure hope your taste in women has improved since the divorce, Mike," the agent replied easily.

"Wha…? Who…?"

The man grinned, then slowly took off his hat and sunglasses, and…

No way!

"Cruz?"

Holy shit. Not only had Joe tracked down his old football teammate, she'd set him up and saved the day.

Cruz chuckled and Mike laughed, both moving forward to embrace each other amidst hearty backslaps.

"Son of a bitch," Mike marveled, finally taking a step back as he wiped the tears of joy and laughter from his eyes. "Now I know where the gum wrappers came from."