“Which is why your freezer always has a half gallon that never develops icy crystals.”
After Matt had rescued her from a psychopathic kidnapper months prior, sharing a quart of ice cream on the patio had become their favorite form of decompression after high stress situations or deep discussions. The quart he’d dug out before lunch had alerted her to his growing anxiety. “You never explained what’s sticking in your craw.”
A long stare preceded his quiet huff. “Two weeks of sharing a pup tent with a ball of energy who’ll probably kick me till I’m black and blue isn’t something I’m looking forward to.”
It wasn’t the reason he dreaded getting in the tent.
“You mean you’re not going to sleep under the stars? However will I keep my virtue intact?” She might’ve presented a sincere façade if her shoulders hadn’t shook.
The jingle of his phone cut his withering expression, one perfected on five younger siblings.
“What are you gonna do when we have to lock our cells in the office safe?”
“I’m here in an official capacity, so I keep mine. You, however, don’t.” He grinned as he answered the call.
Instead of stowing her gear, she stepped outside to look around. The hilltop’s scenic view took her breath away. In the days to come, she’d probably curse every inch they hiked over or around, but for one moment in time, she smiled and used her phone to snap some shots. Matt had snorted at the cell’s expense, until she explained its necessity and the extended payment plan.
One other building thirty yards away housed the two counselors according to the brochure. The log cabin’s rustic style blended into the background, minus a curl of smoke emitted from the chimney.
“Hey. We need to talk.” The familiar rumble spelled trouble.
Matt stepped behind her, and a gentle hand on her shoulder turned them face-to-face. One look conveyed a depth of emotion not easy to decipher.
“Hmm, its bad news. Spill.”
“Your neighbor’s dog went batshit crazy early this morning when they let him out. Ran right around to your back door and raised hell. The kid told his dad the back window was broken, so the dad checked your place. He, um, didn’t go inside.” Matt’s gaze slid away, as if he couldn’t bring himself to finish.
“And...”
“The glass pane was held together by tape. The whole mess lay on a blanket by the foundation. He called it in. Two uniforms responded and found a body in the kitchen.”
“Holy shit. Was it Denny?”
“No. It was a man named Mitch Calantus. Thirty-five-year-old with no priors. Do you recognize him?” Matt hesitated before holding his phone for her to see.
His screen seized a moment in time few things could replicate, and the gruesomeness burned into her mind’s inventory.
Sightless opaque eyes defied color definition while the mottled skin tone increased the ick factor until she was sure to have apocalyptic nightmares for months. Matt’s steady hand rubbing her back provided support and warmth.
“Shit. Why was he in my house? Who killed him? I don’t own anything worth stealing, much less worth murdering over.”
“Ethan’s taking point. Since you’ve given a statement concerning Denny’s jacket and finding Molly’s body, you don’t have to go back now. Considering your history with Biobotics and the sociopath Carrigan, Ethan called our friend at the fed’s office to widen the search for Denny and Carina.”
“Jesus. If I’d have gone home last night...” Katt stumbled back a step, only to have a strong hand hold her steady.
“Yeah, that could’ve been you on the floor.”
“Can I still stay for the entire course?” All at once, the training took on a whole new meaning, one that could save her life. Fear was a potent motivator.
“Yep. We are staying. And you’re not leaving my side until the situation is resolved.”
“You’ve got the entire two weeks off?”
“Extenuating circumstances. Rank has privilege.”
“This couldn’t be a jealous ex thing...” Her voice trailed off, lost in a confusing mix of details refusing to take shape.
“They’re looking into Denny’s work, both at Horizon Solar and prior employment history. Unfortunately, he lied on his work application.”
“Which means Lexi’s busy hacking records left and right.” Katt grimaced, wondering what Ethan’s hacker girlfriend would teach her when she returned. The education was great, the circumstances not so much.
Matt grunted and shook his head. “Yep, I’d bet my life on it.”
“Do you think Denny killed Mitch? Or maybe Mitch had a deviant partner; the prick who attacked me in the elevator.”
“Don’t know. Either way, it’s out of your hands. Your job now is to focus on learning.”
“Got it. I’m an open book. Teach me.” Hearing something and retaining it equaled two separate entities, divided by dead bodies, a libido that wouldn’t turn off, and a swirling vortex of unanswered questions.
It didn’t take long to miss the little creature comforts, but fresh air, rustic conditions, and Matt’s presence helped blunt the coffee cravings. A week in the wild offered Katt a new perspective she’d never considered.
Since the instructors had inspected all gear before departing the barrack, they’d limited her to approved items. Having to leave the chocolate bars behind equaled a kick in the gut. Matt had laughed until she punched him in the shoulder.
The first week covered the rudimentary skills of fire building, shelter setup, and proper knife use. Who knew a basic knife could be so handy? Matt interjected his own insights after each phase and ensured she mastered every task. Distance from civilization granted anonymity and eased her into the group with the routine of hiking, skill building, and lectures.
Matt’s entire concentration continued to focus on her. Time and self-confidence restored her ability to resume their previous comradery including innuendos and double entendres. Decisions concerning where to go and how to maintain friendships presented a reality she didn’t have to face in the thick of her training.
“Try this one, Katt.” With an exaggerated twist of his lips, Matt imitated the rich fluty warble of a wood thrush.
They’d placed their sleeping bags close enough to the campfire to enjoy the view, but also kept enough distance for their conversation to be private. It was peace and relaxation, a new beginning, but to what, she wasn’t sure.
Each call he imitated came out fluent and lifelike. Unlike her simulated mockery, which likely forced other campers to tear bits of stuffing from their sleeping bags to use as earplugs.
Lying on her bag cushioned by a thick bed of pine needles, she smiled at the endless blanket of stars above. A slight breeze pushed aside her worries as well as her bangs. These sessions under the stars—as Matt called them—encouraged dreams of old, where she emerged from the fantasy of a loving family and spread her wings to fly.
Her next attempt to duplicate his call resembled more of a strangled cat. “That’s one sound I can’t seem to get.”
Beside her, Matt suggested, “That’s why you listen carefully to your surroundings and practice. You’ll pick it up in time.”
“I used to dream that if I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could touch the moon.”
“What did it feel like?”
“Soft and warm. All the craters were just experiences endured, but the edges were rounded, pliant.” She didn’t jump when Matt took her hand and gave a gentle squeeze.
“Before your mom left?”
“Yeah. Everything changed after that. I stopped dreaming and saw life in a different light, stark and raw. That’s when I started taking things seriously. It’s also when Laredo moved in next door.”
As if saying his name brought the specter to life in Matt’s mind, he let go of her hand, the vital warmth receding.
Nights generated a bittersweet mix of longing for something she couldn’t have while snickering at Matt’s attempts to res
t. Thanks to his earlier tutelage, she differentiated the cadences of his breathing when asleep and when feigning it to avoid conversation.
To push his boundaries further, as soon as she slid into the bedroll, she skimmed down to boy shorts and a t-shirt. Depositing her jeans and shirt on the end of her bag resulted in him presenting his back. His deep, rumbling groan betrayed her success in torment.
Each morning she woke to find him up and out, avoiding any awkwardness.
Days began with food gathering, breakfast, and an exhilarating hike. If not for all the mud runs and obstacle races with the McAllisters, her leg muscles would have dissolved into jelly.
“How’re you holding up, kid?” Matt gestured for her to slide down and between his knees where he sat on a log after they’d cleaned up from dinner. “Sit, I’ll get the knots out.”
The day had been brutal.
“Good. Better now.” The few members who’d gathered around the fire a short distance away nodded good night before slipping into their tents.
Nothing in the world compared to a shoulder rub, except him leaning over to murmur against her hair. His minty breath brushed the sensitive skin on her forehead and sent a shiver straight to her long-ignored lady parts.
The decadence of strong hands rubbing out sore muscles rivaled the comfort derived from her favorite chocolate bar, only better. His baritone murmurs strumming her nerves relegated food to a near-frivolous commodity.
“It’s hard to imagine things like greed and murder existing when you’re out here like this.” A groan bubbled up from her chest as she let her head fall forward.
“The experience changes everyone whether they realize it or not.”
“I could imagine myself spending a lot of time with just the crickets and beautiful scenery. But on the back burner, I keep wondering what’s happening with Denny and Carina.”
“I called Ethan earlier. They have yet to find either.”
“Has forensics come up with anything on Mitch Calantus?”
“Yeah. The blood on Denny’s jacket was a match.”
“You think Denny took them by surprise and killed him?”
“Could be. They found evidence, footprints in the dirt and blood made by a third person.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Denny who broke in then? Maybe Mitch encountered a fatal disagreement with his partner.”
“One of them used a blanket to catch the glass when they broke in. Evidence connects the blanket to both Denny and Molly. Since Molly is dead...”
“The creeps who took a shot at me at Denny’s house could have taken the blanket at that time and planted it as evidence. Do you think Mitch went looking for my notes or Denny’s jacket?”
“That wouldn’t explain how someone tracked Denny, if in fact, he was one of your visitors. Did Denny give you anything? Anything at all, besides your fee?”
“No. But he’d have to know I would turn his bloody jacket over to the police once we found Molly’s body.”
“Either way, you’re a point in the triangle between Denny and the dead man. You connect the dots.”
“Which means others might come looking for me, right? Since they’ve been through my house, they’ll know where to find me. I kept a calendar and schedule in the office.”
“They might. As a precaution on arrival, I’d encouraged Wyler to set up camp far from base.”
“And it’s why you smother.”
“I don’t smother. It’s called protective custody.”
“Feels like smothering to me.”
In a move too fast to contemplate, he’d lifted her up and sat her on his lap with his arms around her, locking her arms against her chest.
“This is smothering. See the difference?”
“Hmm. I feel it.” Leaning into his larger frame, she turned her face into his neck. The calming scent combined with his warmth elicited a groan she couldn’t stop.
As if snake-bit, he unfolded his arms and returned her to sit on the ground. “Um, sorry, Nugget. That’s not a direction we’re going to go.”
“Why not? We’re both adults.”
“First, there’s a no-intimacy rule during the course. Second, you’re too young for me.”
Finally, the conversation she’d waited to have loomed ahead and at a time he couldn’t avoid her. “If we were alone, I’d prove to you I’m not a kid, but I know that’s not necessary. I’m over twenty-one. I have my associate’s degree and a job. I’m financially independent, and I have my own place.”
“A home that’s not safe for you to return to until this mess is cleared up is what you have. Do you realize you could’ve been killed Sunday if you’d been home?” Deflection was a well-practiced art in Matt’s arsenal.
“Oh, no you don’t. You are not changing the subject.” To prove her point, she pushed to her feet, pivoted, and straddled his lap. Before he could pry her away, she wrapped her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist, and pulled his head down for a kiss.
Hands at her waist tightened to the point of bruising, then urged her closer. The brush of his fingers up her spine before cupping the back of her head melted any reservations about mixing business and pleasure. His other hand settled on her ass, pulling her snug against him.
The force of his hunger was her undoing. He didn’t ask. He took. As hard as she’d always fought for independence and control of her life, this was where she wanted a man, the right man, to take without asking, ensuring her pleasure before his own and without making excuses. She’d waited for Mathew McAllister all her life.
In the back of her mind, she contemplated his slipping control with the downward slide of his large hand and her hips bucking forward for more pressure. He obliged with gentle squeezes before smoothing over her flank and cupping her breast. His response addressed her gasping invitation the next instant.
A swipe of his tongue against her bottom lip opened her to the thrust of his own, calling to her on an instinctual level. Time ceased to matter as his heat surrounded her, his essence filling her with visions of them wrapped in each other’s arms and spiraling toward oblivion.
Light pressure of his thumb and forefinger on her nipple increased until she couldn’t suppress the moan. Using her legs against his back for leverage, she pulled herself tighter needing more, needing all of him.
He angled her head for better access, delving within her soul the same way he sampled her mouth. Pressure against her low back provided friction at the juncture of her thighs when he twisted her hips, her whimper lost within his groan. She took the breath he gave, shared it as they shared their spirits.
She was forbidden fruit, untouchable. Yet the fire in the graze of his fingers cupping her breast ignited the embers of lust that had smoldered for months. The resultant conflagration would devour them both.
Rapid-fire heartbeats threatened to rupture her torso with the strength of each beat. Breathing seemed nonessential as her body went lax under the onslaught of his desire. Never in her life had she experienced an inferno of raw sexual hunger.
Dizziness threatened her upright status until she rested limp in his arms. Only then did he relent.
When he lifted his head, the momentum of his craving threatened conscious thought. All she could see, feel, and taste, was Mathew, embedded in her spirit until her last breath. His hoarse breathing matched her own.
A twitch at one corner of his mouth hinted at the acceptance of his effect. “Do you still believe I think of you as a kid?”
Several heartbeats passed. She managed to shake her head.
“Let this be your lesson, then. You’re not one-night-stand material. On the other hand, you’re too young for me. You need to be with someone your own age, with the same things in common.”
“But we do have the same things in common.”
“You should have a boy who sweeps you off your feet but can bend to meet you halfway, not one who overwhelms you then leaves you praying you can maintain your identity.”
The sorrow overtaking hi
s expression preceded him standing then settling her on the log.
But you have swept me off my feet.
“Go to bed, Katt. It’s late.” Soundless steps carried him away from the circle of tents.
She watched until he disappeared in the surrounding forest, becoming one with the solemn night. The sudden chill sweeping her body betrayed the wounding of her soul.
One tear on her cheek brought another, until the silent trail splashed onto her shirt. Despite the evidence of his desire straining against her bottom, he’d controlled the encounter, telling her without words he would always hold that last part of himself in check.
Once she’d nestled in her sleeping bag, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. Morning was an eternity away with disillusionment and a darkening soul for company. Her mom’s abandonment hadn’t broken her, neither had her father’s emotional withdrawal. Yet one kiss had demolished her world. Endless hours ahead wouldn’t produce the wisdom on how to face Mathew in the light of day.
Matt cursed every living thing in existence. He’d lost control of his senses, not to mention his libido. Giving lust free rein had been the single most monumentally stupid thing he’d done. Ever.
Katt’s sweet taste lingered on his lips and in his mind, strangling his sense of right and wrong. Self-control was a prideful force that had kept his goals front and center even as it had helped him focus on family through the years. The need trapped deep inside twisted his gut into a quivering mass of pain that made him feel too hot, too tight to fit in his own skin.
To make matters worse, Ethan topped off the night with the news that hikers in the state park found Carina Frendal’s body along a popular trail. Local wildlife had found her corpse after death, but the cause remained that of man—a bullet in the back of her brain. Forensics revealed she’d been killed elsewhere then her body moved. That individual sent a very strong message.
By now, the killer would have a bead on Katt’s general, if not specific, location. Trouble approached, and if he allowed lust to overcome gut instinct, he and Katt would both lay cold on a mortician’s slab.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Page 15
