My Hero

by Kelly, Sahara

  “It could be worse.”

  “It could?” For the moment, she couldn’t see how.

  “Sure. If I was Elvis, that would be deep fried and have bananas in it too.”

  She closed her eyes, but the scent of the bacon had awakened her taste buds and she realized she was hungry. Tentatively, she took a bite and chewed.

  She glanced at Max to find him watching her as he devoured his own sandwich. He licked his lips and grinned. “Well?”

  “Um...not bad, actually. Not bad at all.” And it wasn’t. The crunchy bacon blended nicely with the peanut butter and she finished it off with no problems at all.

  “Want another?”

  “Er, no. Not right now. I’ll take another cup of tea though. Perhaps with only one lump of sugar this time...” She smiled at him.

  He poured the tea and it dawned on her how comfortable this was. Being here with Max, sitting around the table, eating, having tea. Just like any ordinary couple. Any ordinary married couple.

  Oh bollocks. She was in trouble. Very big trouble. Marriage and Max might begin with the same letter but that was just about all they had in common. She closed her eyes against the hurt that pinged within her heart.

  “Look, try not to think about it, all right?” His voice sounded worried.

  If only he knew what she was thinking about. But then again, perhaps it was better he didn’t. He’d probably be out the door so fast even Frank’s speediest cop car wouldn’t be able to catch him.

  She grimaced. “Can’t help it. It isn’t every day someone winds up dead practically on our doorstep.”

  “Well, there is that,” agreed Max.

  A loud pounding on the back door made them both jump, and Peta gripped her cup as Max went through the mudroom to see who it was.

  Diana Stiles erupted into the room, practically hanging off Max’s neck. If his face was anything to go by, he wasn’t exactly enjoying the experience.

  Peta sighed. Just what she needed. This was probably going to call for a couple more pots of tea.

  *~*~*~*

  Max had a hard time hiding the distaste he was feeling as Diana threw herself into his arms.

  “Max, how awful for you. I came as soon as I heard.”

  He staggered back into the kitchen, only too aware of Peta’s eyebrows as they shot up her forehead. Diana was clinging to him and she was no lightweight.

  He managed to detach himself.

  “A body. And outside your door too. How dreadful for you, you poor thing.”

  “Quite,” said Peta.

  “Oh, of course, yes. Hello Peta. Terrible, terrible thing,” said Diana dismissively. Pouting a little as Max deposited her in her chair, she continued on regardless. “Did you see it, Max? What happened?”

  He beat a strategic retreat to Peta’s side of the table and poured another cup of tea. Diana looked at it like it was about to bite her. “What’s this?”

  “Tea,” snapped Peta.

  Max tried to hide a grin. “The British version of penicillin, Diana.”

  Peta wrinkled her nose at him.

  Diana frowned at the byplay. “So anyway,” she pushed the cup aside. “Tell me what happened?”

  Max sighed and sat down, away from Diana’s reach, just in case. Nothing wrong in being cautious. The fact that he was nearer Peta helped too. “We thought a snowplow had hit someone. We were, sadly, wrong.”

  “I don’t understand?” Diana pursed her lips in a little moue of confusion.

  “Hellooo...” Frank Summer’s voice echoed from the front door.

  “In here, Frank,” called Peta. “Come on in.”

  “Sorry to intrude—oh, hello Diana.”

  Diana turned her megawatt smile on the Lieutenant. “Hello Frank, dear. I just dropped by to find out what was going on. All the sirens and lights...I was worried...” Her gaze flew to Max and left everyone in the room in no doubt as to who had been occupying her thoughts.

  Max, faced with three pairs of eyes, did something he didn’t think he was capable of doing. He blushed.

  “Well, Diana,” said Frank, clearing his throat. “It’s not good, that’s for sure.”

  “An accident, was it? I saw the snowplow on the bank.”

  Frank’s gaze fell to his hands. “No. This was no accident. Mike Dean was murdered.”

  Max was astounded at the effect these words had on Diana. She blanched pure white and her hand started to shake.

  “M...M...Mike D...Dean?” The words were little more than a whisper, and even Peta was leaning forward as if she, too, sensed this woman’s shock and horror.

  Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Mike Dean. Did you know him, Diana?”

  She swallowed with difficulty, and Max noted the tears that filled her eyes. He flashed a glance at Peta, and they shared a moment of unspoken communication. Diana had known Mike Dean.

  “Yeah,” Diana whispered. “Yeah, you could say that I knew him.”

  Frank reached for his notebook. “I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind. Would you like to come down to the station with me? Or will you be okay doing it here?”

  Max stood. “Look, Peta and I can give you guys some privacy if you want,” he said.

  Diana waved her hand. “No, no. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter who knows now, I suppose.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “Can you tell me how you knew Dean and the nature of your relationship with him?”

  Diana bit back a sound that was half a laugh and half a sob. “Relationship?” She twisted her hands. “I don’t think you could call it that, Frank. We just...used each other.” She looked down, hiding her eyes. “For sex.”

  The last two words were whispered, and the other three had to lean in to catch them.

  Frank sighed. “Okay. Fair enough. When did you see him last?”

  Diana raised her head. “Today. He came by my store today. We...we… um...spent some time together, and then he said he had to leave. He had to see someone.”

  Frank was writing notes furiously in his book, and Max was listening intently. He wondered who else, if anyone, had been present. He knew, first hand, what Diana liked. And thank God, he didn’t. He was a one-on-one kind of guy. Correction, a one-on-Peta kind of guy.

  “Did he say who he was going to see?” Frank paused in his writing.

  Diana shook her head. “No, he didn’t. Mike didn’t...talk much.”

  Frank turned to Peta and Max and took their brief statements about the actual incident. Neither of them blushed when asked to recount what they’d felt when the snowplow had skidded off the street.

  As far as Frank and Diana knew, they’d been having tea and heard the crash. It was a masterful job of flat out lying, and Max was proud of both himself and his woman. His woman. Yes, his woman. He rolled the words around his brain and tucked them away for the time being.

  Frank stood. “Well, I guess this’ll do it for now.” He looked at Max, in a man-to-man sort of way. “We found blood evidence further up the street that suggests Dean was dumped from a moving vehicle and staggered this far, only to get hit by the snowplow.”

  Peta sucked in a breath. “Could he have survived, do you think, Frank?”

  Frank shook his head. “I doubt it. He was on his last legs. The Doc says the knife wound was deep and high, catching the heart and the aorta. He’d bled out internally, but the snowplow opened up the wound.”

  Peta swallowed and Max rested his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. Diana sniffed loudly, but he couldn’t give a shit. It was Peta who had the whole focus of his attention.

  “Terrible thing for Mayfield. Two killings. Just terrible.” Frank nodded at them all and left.

  “He’s starting to sound like Edward Sharp,” mused Max absently.

  “Oh God,” squawked Diana. “Edward.”

  “What about him?” said Peta, tilting her head.

  Diana’s color returned with a vengeance, flooding her face from chin to forehead.

  Max sighed
as the coins dropped into place within his brain. “Edward was your third, wasn’t he, Diana?”

  “Your third? I don’t understand...”

  Peta’s comment brought a painful twist to Diana’s lips. “You wouldn’t,” she said snidely.

  Max’s grip on Peta’s shoulder tightened, but he spoke to Diana. “He was the third man in your—games?”

  Diana nodded. “And Mike made some comments...said some things. He said he wouldn’t tell, but that I didn’t have enough money to buy his silence, and do you think he...could he have threatened...oh my God. Do you think Edward did it? To shut him up?”

  Max blinked. The idea of Edward Sharp killing a man was too absurd for words. “I doubt it. Dean looked like he’d only been stabbed once. Edward would have repeated himself and done it at least twice.”

  “Max.” Peta’s shocked exclamation rang around the room. “That’s in very poor taste.” He glanced down and saw the minute twitch at the corners of her lips as she clamped them together to suppress a giggle.

  “I wouldn’t put it past Mike to try blackmail, though,” said Diana. “He was capable of just about anything. But he said he didn’t kill Sandra.”

  “You asked him?” Peta’s eyes widened.

  Diana gripped her hands tightly again. “Yeah. I asked him.”

  A tap on the back door preceded Frank Summer’s head as it peeked around the jamb. “Hey folks, just wanted to let you know that the front area is cordoned off for a while—even though the snow’ll probably obliterate anything useful, the lab boys asked us to keep it secure. You all okay with using this door for now?”

  “Certainly, Frank, no problem,” sighed Peta. “Just let us know when it’s all clear?”

  “We won’t be going out again tonight anyway,” added Max.

  Diana’s face hardened and her shoulders slumped. “Frank,” she said abruptly. “Do me a favor? Are you going back to the station?”

  “Yep. Need a ride?”

  Diana stood, shooting a long and rather sad glance at Max as he stood protectively next to Peta. “Yes please. I’m done here.”

  There was a world of emotion in those simple words.

  Max found himself pitying her. She’d been hit hard, tonight. She’d lost a playmate and been plunged into questions about people that went way beyond their ability to satisfy her sexual needs.

  For a self-centered woman like Diana, the knowledge that Dean was dead and Max himself no longer available, must have rolled over her like a ton of bricks. Not to mention the fact that nasty things like blackmail and murder had intruded on her private life.

  “Goodnight, Diana,” he said.

  “Goodbye, Max.” She stood and followed Frank from the room, totally ignoring Peta.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Peta’s thoughts tumbled over themselves as Diana closed the door behind her. She watched as Max busied himself around the kitchen, rinsing dishes, putting them in the dishwasher, and passing a few comments to Mr. Peebles who had ventured out from wherever he’d hidden himself during all the commotion. A small portion of a “bickie” was exchanged.

  She tried to grasp the whole picture, but visions of Diana, Mike Dean and Edward Sharp plagued her. She frowned.

  “You’re frowning,” said Max unnecessarily. “Still can’t get Dean’s murder out of your mind?”

  “Of course not. It’s horrible. But...”

  “But?” He sat down and brushed her hair away from her cheek. “What else is going on in that inquiring mind of yours?”

  She bit her lip. “I can’t help but wonder.”

  “About what, honey?”

  “Well, you know. What Diana said. About...about her and Dean. And Edward.”

  “Ah. Yeah. The old three-way.”

  Peta knew she was blushing. “I consider myself reasonably intelligent. It’s not a new concept. But finding out that someone you know is actually doing it, well, it sort of throws one for a loop, you know?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Have you...?” The words were out before she could bite them back. She cursed at herself silently.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Have I what? Been in a three-way?”

  She nodded. Damn her curiosity. Now he was going to think she was some sex-obsessed busybody.

  He shook his head. “Not like that.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, honey, I’m no boy scout. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and yeah, I’ve even played with a couple of women at the same time. But I’ve never shared a woman with another man. Not my style.” He looked away from her. “Between you and me and Mr. Peebles, it’s the reason I never followed up on Diana’s invitations.”

  “She wanted you to...to...”

  He nodded. “Yep. And I’m sorry, but accidentally touching another guy’s...well, it’s just soooo not my thing.”

  She considered that. A little spark of pleasure ignited inside her. She discovered that she was rather glad. Of course, that was followed by further considerations—like having Hugh Jackman on one side of her and perhaps Brad Pitt on the other. Hmmm...

  “I don’t like that look.”

  “What look?” Peta blinked at Max.

  “The one that says you’re thinking hot thoughts, and I may not be included.”

  “Oh. That look.” She grinned. “I was just thinking about catching a movie soon.”

  He stood and stretched. “Yeah, right. I know you better than that, honey. It wasn’t a movie you were thinking about catching. It was some movie star, or maybe even two, wasn’t it?”

  Peta blushed. “Certainly not.”

  “Hugh Jackman?”

  She felt the hot blush deepen in her cheeks and hid her face in her hands. “I don’t like this. You know me too well.”

  He chuckled. “Lucky guess. At least your mind is off the bad stuff. I can deal with Mr. Jackman.”

  “You can?” Peta wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “Sure. I’ll just put me there in your fantasies, instead.” He leaned over and picked her up. “Just one of me, though.”

  Peta slipped her arms around his neck. “I won’t need anything more.”

  And it was true. Max was everything she’d ever wanted, and then some. He’d burst into her life, upset her ordered world, shown her that sex could be a transcendental experience when done right, and made her go and do the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

  Fall in love with him.

  Sighing, she snuggled into his chest. “Let’s go to bed. I want to forget all this. We’re alive. We’re healthy. Pretty much. Life is so...so uncertain at times. Think about Mike. He got up this morning, not knowing it was his last day on this earth.” She sighed again. “Take me away from it all.”

  “You bet, babe.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips, and held her high against him. “Tonight’s for us.”

  *~*~*~*

  It was a promise that he fully intended to keep, realized Max as he shouldered open Peta’s bedroom door. He was going to give her the best night yet, and drive all the rest of the world from her mind. Tonight she would be thinking only of him.

  The room was cool, as always, and the drapes were still open. He carefully lowered her on the bed, told her to stay put, and crossed the room to draw the heavy curtains closed. The darkness fell, and along with it the strange silence that accompanies a winter storm. No cars passed, no horns honked—it was as if they were in a world apart. Alone. Just the two of them.

  She shivered. He hoped it was from arousal, but to be on the safe side...

  “C’mon. Into the shower with you. You’re cold.”

  “I...but...”

  “No buts.” He busily removed her clothing, noting the goosebumps on her skin. “You’re shivering, and I know I’m good, but something tells me that we need to warm you up before we get to the warming up, if you catch my drift.”

  She chuckled and shivered again. “You’re right. It is cold in here.” She agreed with eyes wide as she watched him strip.

  “Okay
. Let’s go.” He herded her into her little bathroom and turned on the faucets. “Grab a few towels, will you? We’ll need them after our shower.”

  “Um...our shower?”

  Max looked at her. “Yeah. Our shower. You’ve never showered with a guy before?”

  She shook her head, and he couldn’t help the large grin he could feel spreading over his face. This would be a night of firsts for her.

  “You’ll love it. So will I. Someone to scrub my back for me.”

  She snorted, then choked as he added “...and my front.”

  Not waiting for her response, he hit the shower lever, and stepped in, holding out his hand to her. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”

  She looked nervous, intrigued, and uncertain. “My hair...just a minute...” She reached into her cabinet and pulled out a clip, twisting her gorgeous chestnut mass into a lump and securing it. “There.”

  “Okay. Cool. Now come here.” He knew it was more of a command than an invitation, but hell. He wanted her in front of him, all soapy and wet and hot beneath his hands. His cock did too. It was making its approval of that plan quite plain to anyone who bothered to look.

  And Peta looked. She licked her lips and he couldn’t stop the groan that seeped from his lungs.

  “Now, babe, before I explode here.” More horrible thoughts of those two frightening words “premature ejaculation” danced through his mind, and he breathed with relief as she put her hand in his and carefully stepped under the stream of water.

  She sighed in pleasure. “Oh God, that feels good. I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

  He snickered. She hadn’t realized how hot she was, either.

  Reaching for her liquid soap, he squeezed a liberal amount into his hands. “Now let’s take care of some personal hygiene,” he mumbled, losing track of his thoughts as his hands touched her skin.

  The soap bubbled to soft foam and he caressed her arms and shoulders with it, making her giggle as he shoved his hands beneath her armpits for good measure.

  Not to be outdone, she squeezed more soap out and began to work on him. She lathered his chest, paying particular attention to his nipples and distracting him.