by Raven Scott
“He’s all ready to head out, isn’t he?” Kaylee said as she walked toward them.
“Aye, I was just about to take him out, but I thought we should go together.”
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a walk.”
She slipped on flip-flops, and they headed downstairs. It was a warm, fragrant night, and they walked slowly and quietly around the usual path. Niko did his regular routine of investigating every rock and leaf that he came across before finally taking care of business.
“Is it okay that I bring Niko with me tomorrow?” she finally asked when they were on the way back to the building.
“Of course. I assumed you would. What else would you do with him?”
“I could ask Silvia to take him until I’m back.”
“No, it’s fine. I like dogs.”
They walked in silence a little longer.
“Can I ask you something?” she continued.
Sam swallowed, knowing it was not going to be something easy or flippant.
“Aye, but I can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“Evan seemed less tense today. Did you guys come to an understanding about . . . things?”
“We did. It was not pleasant at first, I’ll tell you that. But I think we’ll be fine,” Sam told her honestly.
“Good. You guys make a great team. I would hate it if anything I did came between that.”
They rounded the corner to the front entrance.
“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” she asked softly.
Sam clenched his jaw and frowned. “It’s not about forgiveness, Kaylee. It’s about trust.”
“Meaning you don’t trust me.” Her words were heavy with sadness, and Sam hated it.
“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t trust what’s going on between us. And I don’t trust myself when I’m with you.”
It was much more than he had intended to say, but it was the truth.
Kaylee didn’t reply. In the apartment, she took his hand and they walked to her bedroom. With the lights off, they removed their clothes and climbed into the middle of the bed. She straddled his lap and nestled his lengthening cock into the warmth between her thighs. Like always, Sam was flooded with such urgent need, it left him light-headed.
He ran his hands over her back, adoring the firm lines and silky feel of her skin. He cupped the round curves of her ass, squeezing its fullness. She gasped and his heart skipped. Her smell was still the same. Chanel, he remembered. Except Sam knew for a fact that it didn’t smell as good on any other woman. He kissed her neck, licking at the skin, savoring her flavor.
Kaylee sat, and he could feel her eyes studying him in the dark.
“Can we be honest here, in bed?” she asked softly. “Can you trust this, for as long as it lasts?”
She reached down and wrapped a delicate hand around the base of his cock. Sam bit back a moan. Did she realize that she could have anything in the world when she was holding him like that? Then Kaylee stroked him with tight fingers and he couldn’t think straight. She brushed his manhood along her dewy seam, and he suddenly understood what she wanted. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, and the primal need to be with her, inside her, completely unfettered, was so strong he broke into a sweat.
“Are you on protection?” he managed to ask with the last of his working brain cells.
“Yes,” she whispered, rising up on her knees and sliding down on his shaft until he was sheathed tightly in her satin grip.
They made love slowly and quietly, first with her riding him and at a steady rhythm, then with her beneath him, legs spread wide to receive his thrust. There was a third and a fourth position before Sam couldn’t hold back the rush of pure ecstasy that she always inspired. She joined him in climax, gripping his length in her body and prolonging the intensity of his orgasm. Then, as their breathing slowed, there came the same realization that always did. This could be the last time he ever felt this perfect unison with a woman. Kaylee would walk out of his life again eventually, and he’d never experience anything like her again.
His stomach churned sickeningly at the thought. Like a pointless ritual, just before he fell asleep, Sam told himself to put an end to things, now. But of course, he wouldn’t.
They returned to Virginia on Wednesday afternoon, then took a car straight to his house just south of Alexandria. Sam gave Kaylee a quick tour of the three-bedroom, mid-century modern bungalow. He put her bag in his bedroom, and they both worked quietly in his living room for the remainder of the day. Sam grilled steaks for dinner with a salad, and they watched television afterward. At bedtime, they walked Niko through his neighborhood. Back home, they went to bed and indulged in the same slow, intimate lovemaking that was quickly becoming his weakness.
“Tell me again how you will ask about Jason Holt,” Sam said. They were eating lunch at a small restaurant near Mark McMann’s office in downtown Baltimore. Her meeting was in twenty minutes, at two o’clock.
“I’ll spend the first half talking about the job I want, referring to the communications job Quinten Laboratories currently has posted,” Kaylee explained as she sipped her sparkling water. “Then, when the formal interview is over, I’ll ask about when he left the newspaper. Then about Jason, and say how shocked I was. I’ll leave it open for him to give details. If he doesn’t, I’ll ask specifically what he thought about what Jason told him.”
“That’s good. Just remember to say as little as possible. And don’t fill in any silences—let him. That’s when people talk the most.”
“Thank you for the tips, but I have done this before you know,” she told him, crossing her arms. “Being a journalist is all about getting people to tell you things, and communications is mostly about listening.”
“All right, don’t get cheeky about it,” he replied with a tolerant smile. “Quinten is on the fourth floor of the building so I’ll ride up the elevator with you, then stay close until you’re done.”
“I could just go alone and meet you at the car,” she suggested.
“Aye, you could. But you won’t. Now come on, let’s get you to your interview on time.”
Kaylee stood up, wearing a blush-pink suit with a tied belt around the waist, a narrow skirt and dark chocolate-brown shoes as high as usual. Her hair waved softly around her face and brushed her shoulders, and her makeup was light and pretty, highlighting her features. She looked as beautiful and sophisticated as always. Sam paid the check, and they walked together across the street and up to the Quinten offices. When they entered, the walls were lined with large framed pictures of research labs and testing equipment. According to their website, they were a development and testing company for the industrial use of mineral and sediment. Kaylee introduced herself to the receptionist while Sam just said he was meeting a friend for coffee.
Mark McMann came out to greet Kaylee with a big smile on his face. Sam had seen his photos from their research in advance, and he looked as expected—tall, slender, and mid-forties, with dark hair and brown eyes and an unnatural tan on his pale skin.
“Mikayla, it’s so good to see you,” he said.
“Same to you, Mark. Thanks so much for making time to see me,” she replied, shaking his hand with a wide smile of her own.
“My pleasure of course. You look lovely, as always.”
Kaylee gave him a sweet grin, revealing her twin dimples, and then they walked away, presumably to his office. Sam remained in the waiting room, working on his phone and maintaining the look of someone who was about to be stood up for a coffee break. Kaylee returned about forty minutes later by herself, said bye to the receptionist, then got into the elevator. Sam waited a few more minutes, then mumbled something appropriate and took the stairs down. They met in front of the restaurant again, as planned.
“It’s the mayor,” she whispered loudly, looking around. “Mark all but said it.”
“What?” Sam demanded, completely caught off guard. “Let’s get to the car. Then you can tell me the details while we d
rive.”
She followed his direction until they were leaving Baltimore and on the way back to Virginia.
“Start from the beginning,” he instructed.
“It’s a pretty short story,” she said. “Everything went as planned. I asked him about leaving the paper. He just said it was time and the opportunity at Quinten came along. I asked about Jason and his sudden leave, and the conversation became pretty stilted at that point.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know. He seemed really surprised that I brought it up, and he became pretty stiff and formal. I said I was shocked about what he had done, just like we had planned.”
“And what did he say?” he probed.
“Nothing. We both sat there for at least a half a minute, but I just looked at him.” Sam smiled. “Then he said: ‘Yes, it was shocking. It’s unacceptable that businessmen and city officials should try to manipulate the media for their own gain.’ I said, ‘I know, I was very disappointed. I hope they got what they deserved.’ And he said, ‘Unfortunately, some people in high places are untouchable.’ And that was it.”
Sam was silent, driving and thinking for a few moments. “You think he was talking about Lyle Gordon, the mayor of Baltimore.”
“Absolutely,” she declared passionately. “Who else is a city official in a high place and untouchable?”
“He could have meant a businessman.”
“But think about it. Didn’t you say that Fortis had identified the bribes from two small companies? So the only unknown was the last one. So why would Mark specifically mention city officials unless it was for the one you couldn’t confirm? And the other two were hardly in high positions, right?”
Sam thought quietly again. She made a lot a sense, but something about the information just seemed inconsistent with the facts they had already confirmed.
“So, are you thinking the message from Battleford was unrelated? Or was he working for the mayor?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It could be either, really. But if Jason told Mark that it was someone high up at city hall, that’s what my dad found out. And that would have been the knowledge that got him into this mess,” she concluded. “Does it really matter if Battleford was involved or not?”
“Kaylee, the facts always matter, especially when they are inconvenient.”
She looked away, and Sam could feel her frustration at him, as though he were holding her back from finally discovering the truth. And he understood exactly why she would feel that way. But he had promised to keep her safe, and that was what he had to do at all costs.
“Look, the FBI is still talking to Fleming. Why don’t we see what comes of it over the next few days before we draw any conclusions?”
Kaylee sighed and rested her head back in the car seat. “Okay.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence until they were going through D.C.
“Are you still going to your parents’ house for the evening?” he asked.
“Yes, if that’s okay,” she replied, looking out the passenger-side window. “Only my dad is home, but Junior said he’ll stop by later.”
“No problem. We should be there just after four o’clock.”
She nodded, and went back to thinking. Soon, she was directing him through a very upscale neighborhood, though Sam was already familiar with the streets, since Evan’s family home was not far from hers. Both were equally massive and elaborate in design. He pulled his Jaguar into the circular driveway.
“Can you stay?” Kaylee asked before they got out of the car. “You don’t have to. It will probably be awkward. But you can if you want to.”
Those smudges were back under her eyes.
“Sure, I can stay.”
CHAPTER 23
Ida opened the door as soon as Kaylee rang the doorbell. It didn’t seem appropriate to use her key when she didn’t live there anymore.
“Ms. Mikayla, so good to see you!” the older woman exclaimed, pulling Kaylee into a hug.
“Hi, Ida. You too. This is a friend of mine, Samuel Mackenzie,” she said as they broke apart, and the three of them walked farther into the house.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mackenzie,” Ida replied politely.
“It’s Sam, please. Nice to meet you also.”
“Where’s Dad?” Kaylee asked. The house was eerily quiet and they continued past the front rooms through to the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Last I saw, he was in his study watching the news,” Ida replied. “Can I bring you both anything to eat or drink?”
“No, we’re fine, thank you.”
Kaylee continued on with Sam silently beside her until they reached the study. She knocked. There was a muffled response so she opened the door, only to find her fifty-one-year-old father with his pants around his ankles and his naked butt squeezed as he worked on the woman bent over the desk in front of him. Sam had the fastest response, gripping Kaylee’s arm and pulling her back. It took a couple of seconds for her to grasp what she was seeing, and it was impossible to hold in her scream.
“Dad!”
George Clement whipped his head around in surprise, as did the woman bent over the desk equally as bare assed. She just happened to be Kaylee’s mom. There was more screaming, before Sam finally pulled Kaylee away and firmly shut the door. He kept a hold on her arm until they reached the kitchen and he settled her down into one of the counter stools like a child.
“Breathe,” he encouraged, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “Just breathe.”
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she panted, now waving her hands in front of her. “I can’t stop seeing it. Ewww, ewww, ewww!”
She felt his laughter before the boom sound came out of his chest. Then Kaylee watched as Sam doubled over uncontrollably. She thought back to the image of her parents, who were always so polished and proper, going at it like kids. Even well into his cups, and yelling about something at the slightest provocation, George Clement was more dignified than most men. So to see him with his pants dropped in the middle of the day . . .
Kaylee snorted; then it turned into a giggle as she covered her face with burning embarrassment. Sam was still laughing uncontrollably. She would look up and scrub at her eyes, and he would look at her and double over again. After a few tries, he managed to speak.
“That’s not what I expected when you said your dad was not doing well. He looked pretty good to me.”
Then they both realized what he’d said and started laughing hysterically again. Kaylee’s stomach started to hurt, and tears were now trickling down her cheeks.
“Please stop,” she begged.
“That’s not what she said.”
Kaylee hit him; then they were out of control all over again.
“Blimey, Kaylee, I hope that was your maw.”
She grinned up at him, then put her head down on the counter and covered it with her hands. “We have to go,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“We have to go,” she repeated louder. “I don’t want to see them. What would I say? Oh god, this is horrible.”
“Don’t be daft. It will be fine.”
Kaylee sat up and studied his relaxed expression. He sounded so cute when he reverted to funny-sounding Scottish words, though almost all seemed to be insults. She was pretty sure “daft” meant stupid.
“Too late anyway. Here they come.”
She bowed her head in defeat and turned toward her parents as they walked into the kitchen. They looked comfortable and relaxed now that they were fully clothed, though her mom’s hair wasn’t quite as neat as usual.
“Hi, sweetheart. We had expected you a little later,” Elaine said without any sign of embarrassment.
Kaylee hopped off the stool and gave her mom a dutiful hug.
“Hi, Mom. I didn’t mean to barge in like that.”
“Just forget about it,” Elaine suggested, and Kaylee really hoped that she could. The sparkle in Sam’s eyes suggested he might not l
et her anytime soon.
“Hi, Dad,” Kaylee said, then hesitated before giving him a hug also. He held on for a little longer than she’d anticipated, then rubbed her back. She blinked back the tears that swelled up.
“Hi, baby. It’s good to see you.”
“And who is this, Mikayla?” At her mother’s prompting, they all turned to face Sam.
“Mr. Clement, I’m Samuel Mackenzie with Fortis. We met a few years ago.”
“Yes, of course,” her dad replied in a booming voice. “Evan’s partner.”
“That’s right. And Mrs. Clement, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Noting the questioning look on her parents’ faces, Kaylee added more of an explanation. “Sam and I were out together this afternoon, and he offered to give me a ride here.”
“Any friend of Evan’s is a friend of ours,” her mom replied, though her eyes still sparkled with speculation.
And that started a very enjoyable evening. As promised, Junior showed up at around six o’clock for dinner, and they ate together in the dining room. Afterward, they moved outside to relax and enjoy the beautiful weather by the pool. Kaylee watched her parents interact, and was confused by how connected they seemed. There had been several times in the last year where her mom had seemed at the end of her rope dealing with her dad, so their current interaction was an unexpected relief. George still drank a few glasses of scotch, and wasn’t quite sober by the end of the night. There was some quiet brooding, but no dramatic moodiness or outburst.
“I like your Sam,” her mom said later as things were winding down.
“He’s not really mine,” Kaylee protested, looking over at the topic of their gossip. He was talking with her dad and brother, then looked back at her and grinned.
“Sure, he is,” Elaine said knowingly.
