Read a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures for Free Online

uncomfortable place. Mitch would have kissed it and made it better. My thoughts strayed to the sofa where we’d made love so often. There had been something deliciously exciting about sneaking into his lair to seduce him, and I’d often taken full advantage.
    I eyed the sofa with caution, then filtered through my memories, concentrating on his expressions, and whatever words still lingered in my mental data banks. Behavioral nuances I’d missed in the heat of passion flooded my mind with glaring intensity. Mitch suddenly shutting down his computer, sideways glances at stacks of paper on his desk, and once he’d not-so-subtly turned me away from the weapons cabinet, stopping my questions with a series of toe-curling kisses. And I’d been totally and completely distracted because, hey, the man was a skilled, patient, and dedicated lover.
    But he wasn’t here to distract me now.
    I shifted my attention from the misplaced mystery book to the steel weapons cabinet, my movements stilted and awkward. A fresh shaft of pain pierced my heart. As much as Mitch had loved me…or maybe he’d just pretended to love me—I’d probably never know, but it still blindsided me with a heap of hurt. I sucked in a breath, and made my way to the cabinet. It had been built into the room, the doors fitting flush with the wall, and covered with a wood veneer. A keypad was hidden behind a tiny sliding door that was nearly invisible to a casual glance.
    I ran my fingers over the seam, slid the door aside with the edge of my fingernail, and entered the code. It didn’t click open. Had Jayne changed the combination? No. She wouldn’t have known about the hidden lock. Mitch, then.
    If he wanted me to open it, he would have used a code only I would know. Something obvious to me, or more likely, to my fingertips. I inhaled and rested the pads of my fingers just above the lock and a string of random numbers flashed in my mind. Holding the image, I typed the numbers into the keypad and the door swung open. He’d planned for this. Wanted me to find…whatever. Or maybe he’d been thinking about the combination when he touched the cabinet. Something else I’d never know.
    The usual weapons were there—guns and knives that we’d used during target practice and sparring sessions. But tucked in the corner there was a manila envelope. A tremor rocked me, and my teeth chattered. I reached for the packet, fumbled, dropped it. Giving in to my weak knees, I plopped onto the Oriental throw rug and stared at the sealed packet until my eyes watered.
    Blinking, I finally reached for it. The only image my fingers absorbed was of Mitch when he’d shelved the envelope. The vision fluttered on my internal monitor like a poorly exposed photograph, too dark for me to see clearly since there hadn’t been any lights on in the study. I made out the plaid shirt Mitch had on—the one he’d worn the day he left on his last mission, so at least I had a time frame.
    I slid my finger to open the sealed flap and peeked inside.
    One sheet of paper, crackly and worn with age.
    I caught it between my thumb and index finger, and an immediate image of Mitch hit my internal screen. Expected. And then a picture of my mom, brow wrinkled, filled my mind. She’d held this sheet of paper.
    My heart did a flip, then bottomed out. Stifling my impatience, I gently eased it from the envelope. Faded, illegible writing filled the top of the page, but farther down there were two clear entries—Iguazú Falls and Torquay. Why had my mom written in pencil? Had she wanted the information to fade with time? Iguazú Falls was in Argentina and Brazil.
    That fit, sort of, with what Pierce had said about a South American official being the one to order my parents’ “accident.” A dead lead, according to what Pierce had told me. Torquay was somewhere in England. Devon, maybe. I’d have to check an atlas. I ran my fingers over the letters and a shiver rippled along my spine. Pierce found Eamon