Edge Of Midnight (The Mccloud Series Book 4)

by Shannon McKenna

  “So,” Sean said. “The only starting place I can think of is the notebook, so we need to get those sketches off your walls.”

  “We’re ahead of you.” Connor pulled out a battered cardboard file. “We’ve been studying these all night. Knock yourself out, bro.”

  Liv pulled the file towards herself, fingertips buzzing. The key to this torturous puzzle lay somewhere in that cryptic sheaf of papers.

  It was a series of simple, graceful pen and ink sketches. Landscapes, animals. A lake, with wild geese flying over it, golden eagles, owls, gulls, ducks on a pond. Tucked in their midst was Kev’s coded note, the one he’d scrawled in front of her fifteen years before. The page was crumpled from when she’d stuffed it into her bra.

  “Does anyone remember the order they were in?” she asked.

  Sean spread them out over the table with a gentle circular sweep of his hand, and put them into sequence. He pushed the ordered pile towards her. “I’m sorry to make you repeat yourself, but please tell us, one last time, exactly what Kev said when you saw him that day.”

  Liv let out a sigh as she stared down at the coded note. “I was coming out of the library. I heard him calling, from the rhododendron bushes,” she started, dutifully. “At first, I didn’t think anything of it. I ran into him all the time, but when I got closer, I saw that he—”

  “Wait a sec.” Sean cut in. “Why did you see Kev all the time?”

  “I was volunteering two hours every weekday afternoon in the library,” Liv said. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Sure I remember, but Kev wasn’t working at the library.”

  “I saw him on his way up to work,” she explained. “He always headed up there the same time. It coincided with my volunteer hours.”

  The silence was so charged with tension, Liv stopped breathing. Her eyes darted around the table. “What? Was it something that I said?”

  “Work?” Davy said softly. “What do you mean, work?”

  “That…experimental thing,” she faltered. “You don’t remember?”

  The brothers exchanged grim glances.

  “Kev was doing research for his thesis that summer,” Sean said. “He didn’t have any other job that we knew about. Unless you’re talking about the summer school chemistry teaching.”

  She shook her head. “No, it was something else. Experiments he was participating in,” she said. “He got paid for each session. He told me about it once. Brain function, human cognition, that kind of thing.”

  “Where?” Con asked.

  She swallowed nervously. “The Colfax Building. Above the public library.”

  “I know the Colfax.” Connor said. “It houses the music department. Erin and I have been up there to see Cindy’s concerts.”

  “Do you remember anything else?” Davy asked. “Anything at all?”

  Liv squeezed her eyes shut and racked her brain. Reluctantly, she shook her head. “It never occurred to me that you all didn’t know that, or I would have said something sooner,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Sean said. “It’s more than we ever had before.”

  Davy broke the long, reflective silence. “Maybe this is the door.”

  Liv looked at him, puzzled. “What door?”

  “We spent a year banging our heads against a wall. This is the door. It’s locked, and maybe there’s nothing behind it, but it’s a door.”

  “So let’s dynamite that son of a bitch down,” Sean said.

  “I recommend a more subtle approach,” Davy said dryly. “Miles is up in Endicott Falls already. We can have him ask around about—”

  “No,” Sean broke in. “I don’t want Miles involved.”

  Con grunted. “The kid’s got to get some experience. He’s bright, and hungry, and already in place. I think he’s even taken classes from that chemistry professor, what was the guy’s name? Beck?”

  “No,” Sean said vehemently. “He can hack. That’s all. I do not want him seen asking questions. T-Rex would wipe Miles out.”

  “Speaking of getting wiped out. We raided the gun safe in your condo and brought you a few pieces of your arsenal,” Connor said.

  “That’s great news,” Sean said fervently. “Oh, yeah. Nick, could you run some prints on T-Rex’s Beretta?”

  “Do I have yours for comparison somewhere?”

  “Actually, it was Liv who got hold of his gun and emptied the clip. You’ll need her prints, too.”

  The silence was broken by an appreciative snicker from Tam.

  Davy cleared his throat, and gave Liv an appraising glance. “She does look a hell of a lot better than you, now that you mention it.”

  “T-Rex looks pretty bad, too,” Sean said defensively.

  “Bad enough so he would seek professional medical help?”

  “No more so than us,” Sean replied. “Some stitches and he’ll be ready to rock. He got my blade in his ass, a bad bite on the wrist—”

  “You bit a guy?” Con grimaced.

  “Not me.” Sean jerked his chin at Liv. “Her. Stabbed him through the cheek with a rusty nail, too. I’m telling you, the chick is lethal.”

  “Was this before or after she emptied the clip at him?” Nick asked.

  “Before.” Sean grinned, proudly. “Don’t get on her bad side.”

  “I missed,” Liv broke in. “By a mile. So it doesn’t count.”

  “Bullshit,” Tam said briskly. “You just need the right gun.”

  Chapter 18

  “What do you mean, no? Why not?” Miles realized that he was yelling into the phone. He shoved against the stained basement wall with his feet, sending the wheels of his desk chair bumping and rattling angrily across the concrete floor.

  “No means no.” Con’s voice was steely. “Sean doesn’t want—”

  “Sean thinks I’m a snot-nosed idiot. We’re not talking about rescuing hostages, or rappeling out of a helicopter! We’re talking about asking fat-ass Professor Beck what Kev was doing at the Colfax! I aced the guy’s classes. I know how he likes his ass kissed. What’s the worst that could happen, if I mentioned this Midnight Project to him?”

  Con snorted. “And how do you propose to justify your curiosity?”

  “I could say I found Kev’s research notes,” Miles improvised. “I could say I’m reconstructing some work he was doing for his thesis.”

  “A two-hundred-and-fifty pound gorilla stuck a sharp knife under Sean’s girlfriend’s ear yesterday and asked her questions very closely related to the ones that you propose to ask Beck,” Con said. “Look into who sold the building. That’s all. Take this dead serious, hear me?”

  Miles blew out an explosive breath. “Sure, I hear you,” he said. “I hear that you all think I’m a fucking infant. And I’m fed up with it.”

  “No, we don’t, and I’m sorry you feel that way.” Con’s voice was calm and even. “How’s the other project coming along?”

  “OK,” Miles said sullenly. “Jared’s hot to meet Mina, but she wants to get to know him better before she risks a face-to-face. She’s wary, been burned before. Shy fawn, and all that. I emailed you a transcript of last night’s chat. Seen it yet?”

  “No. I was at Davy’s all night, working on this other thing.”

  Miles practically snorted. Typical McCloud, to refer to an investigation into his brother’s murder as “this other thing.”

  “Gotta go, Miles,” Connor said. “Watch yourself, OK?”

  “Why should I bother?” Miles said bitterly. “No one ever lets me participate.” He slammed the phone down.

  “Wow, aren’t you sweet tempered today.”

  He spun around with a yelp. Cindy leaned in the door. A bomb-shell, in cutoffs that showed off an endless expanse of tanned thigh. A pink halter top that showcased her pointy little tits. Her hair hung loose and glossy down her back.

  His mouth went dry. “Could you knock, for once in your life?”

  “I would have, but the door was open,”
she said. “Your mom told us to come on down. You should clue her in as to my status in the doghouse. She still seems to think that I’m your good buddy.”

  A gangling kid with curly black hair and huge black eyes peeked in after her. “This is Javier,” Cindy announced, dragging him inside.

  “Oh. Yeah.” Shit. He’d been so wound up arguing with Connor, he’d forgotten all about giving in to Cindy’s bullying yesterday. He waved them in. “Go sit down,” he said sourly. “I’ll get stuff set up.”

  “Were you, uh, in a fight, or what?” Javier asked.

  Miles touched his sore, swollen nose. He looked pretty scary, with his nose all puffed up. He rummaged through his equipment, gathering cables, mikes, jacks, DAT. “I guess you could say that,” he mumbled.

  “I assume, from the incredibly frustrated tone of that conversation, that you were talking to a McCloud?” Cindy inquired.

  Miles stiffened. “How much did you overhear?”

  “Enough to wonder why the McClouds would ever be interested in anything old Professor Porky Pig Beck might have to say,” she said.

  Miles groaned inwardly. “Could we not talk about it now?”

  “Sure, whatever,” she murmured. “Let’s get going, then. Get out your sax, Javier, and warm up your reed while Miles sets up.”

  The recording went smoothly. The kid was good, Miles had to concede. Cindy put him through some major and minor scales, and then he played through the tunes all the applicants were supposed to learn. On the final rep, he inserted a thirty-two-bar blues improvisation. In less than an hour, he was writing Javier’s name and number on a good demo CD. He handed it to Javier. “Good luck. I hope you get it.”

  Javier slipped it into his sax case, and flashed a grin with his big, white, overlapping front teeth. “Thanks!” He grabbed Cindy and gave her a hug. “I’ll go get this to the post office right now.”

  “You’ve got money for postage?” she called after him.

  Javier rolled his eyes. “Duh. See you back at band camp!”

  They listened to the kid’s sneakers thud up the stairs. He peeked at her, and his gaze slid away. He couldn’t bear to look at that smile.

  “Thanks for doing that,” she said. “He really deserves that scholarship. It was sweet of you to help.”

  He shrugged. “No big deal. Um, Cin? I’ve got a whole lot of work to get done today before I go up to the dojo, so—”

  “So take my bunny tail and go twitch it in somebody else’s face?”

  Miles winced. Cindy made no move to leave. “I looked around, but I don’t see your mom’s Ford,” she said. “I thought she gave it to you.”

  “I, uh, lent it to Keira for a few days. You know, one of the backup singers for the Furballs? The one with all the piercings?”

  Cindy looked blank, and her eyes narrowed. “That is a big, fat lie. Keira flew to Reno yesterday to visit her sister. She doesn’t have your car.” She paused, sucking her lip between her teeth. “So who does?”

  “It’s none of your goddamn—”

  “Business, yes, I know. You gave it to Sean, didn’t you? Erin said that Con was in an unholy snit yesterday. It was because Sean took your car and gave everybody else the slip, right?”

  “No,” he lied, through gritted teeth. “You’re way off. Light years.”

  “That would explain why your face is so red and you can’t look me in the eye.” Cindy stretched so that her little tits strained against her halter top and the ends of her hair tickled the tattoo at the small of her back. “So what’s up with Kev and the Colfax Building and old Porky Pig?”

  “You shouldn’t eavedrop on other people’s conversations.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose, and in any case, I’ve already talked to Erin. So I know that Sean McCloud’s paranoia is flaring up big-time. I heard he’s freaking out, saying his twin was murdered after all.”

  “You wouldn’t call it paranoia if you’d seen him yesterday,” Miles snarled. “They ripped the shit out of him! They practically killed his girlfriend—” His voice trailed off. His stomach sank at the triumph in Cindy’s eyes. Snookered into babbling his private business.

  Pussywhipped asshole.

  He sighed. “Forget it,” he said wearily. “Just leave, OK?”

  “OK. So don’t tell me how those McCloud dudes don’t think you’re grown up enough to ask Porky what Kev McCloud was up to at Colfax. So don’t tell me how they’re blowing you off, like an idiot child.”

  He conceded that much. “Drives me freaking nuts,” he growled.

  Cindy’s eyes were soft with understanding. “I know exactly how that is,” she said. “I feel that way with those guys all the time.”

  Part of him shrank from the chummy, bonding moment that Cin clearly wanted to have. Another part was desperately eager for any crumb she might drop. No. He was done with this soul-killing bullshit.

  “I think the situations are pretty different,” he said coldly.

  The smile faded from Cindy’s face. “And that difference is what? That I actually am just an idiot child, whereas you are not?”

  He spun the chair around. “I did your favor. Don’t make me regret it by making me listen to your poor-me routine. It’s a big bore.”

  The silence behind him stretched so long, his neck started to itch.

  “Weird, that old Porky could ever have anything to do with the McClouds,” Cindy said softly. “Slobbering old lech. Did Kev know him?”

  “Kev was student teaching Beck’s summer school courses,” Miles said stiffly. “Con said Kev taught the whole course, lectures and all. Beck just kicked back and got a paid vacation out of it.”

  “Sounds like Porky. Did I tell you about the time I went to his office? I wanted to do the midterm as a take-home exam—”

  “So I could help you with it?”

  She ignored his interruption. “You know what he did?”

  “Cindy, I’m serious. I have to get back to work.”

  “He said he could tell from my face that I was carrying lots of tension in my shoulders. So he started massaging me. Like this.”

  She stepped right up behind him, and started petting his shoulders. Every nerve was desperately aware of her caressing touch. Pleasure shuddered through him, even while the thought of Porky’s damp, puffy pink hands touching Cindy’s skin nauseated him.

  Her hands slid down in front of his chest. “Then he started creeping his slimy way slowly but surely towards my tits. That was when I realized what the deal was. If I just pulled my pants down and bent over his desk, I could get an A on that midterm exam.”

  The question burst out of his closed throat anyway. “So did you?”

  Her hands tightened, her nails digging through his T-shirt. “No, Miles. I flunked that midterm,” she said. “Egregiously, I’m proud to say. I may be a dog when it comes to chemistry, but I’m not a whore.”

  She spun his chair around, and before he could stop her, she’d swung that perfect thigh over his lap and sat down, straddling him.

  He froze. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was scared to death. And so aroused he was in danger of passing out.

  Cindy wiggled her tight, perfect ass right against his hard-on. He shrank away from her, but she leaned closer. No escaping her seductive honey-and-vanilla scent. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “I won’t bite.”

  Yeah, like hell. “Jesus, Cin. Are you on drugs?” he demanded.

  She laughed. “I drank a bunch of killer java this morning down at the Coffee Shack. I’m feeling really strange, actually. Wired. Like, I don’t give a shit. I’ll say what I think. I’ll do what I feel. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Oh, God.” His terror was heartfelt. Cindy in a manic mood was dangerous. He grabbed her waist, and his hands skittered off her like he’d grabbed a red-hot coal when they encountered hot, velvety bare skin. “Cin—”

  “Shhh.” She put her finger over his mouth, then grabbed one of his flapping, useless hands and pulled it up to her neck.
She wrapped his fingers around one of the ties of her halter top, smiling that secret, dangerous, sexy-wild smile that he saw in his hottest fever dreams.

  Then she tightened her own fingers around his, and pulled, until the knot slipped and gave. The halter fell down, the material snagging on her nipples. She shrugged, a graceful ripple of her slender body, and the top flopped all the way down over her belly, baring her breasts.

  They were just like he’d imagined. No, better. Creamy triangles of soft, untanned skin against the darker freckles of her throat, her shoulders. He was transfixed. Gaping. She was so fucking beautiful.

  “Touch them,” she invited him.

  He shook his head, every system on red alert, throat shaking, eyes stinging. On the verge of shooting his wad in his pants, right underneath the weight of her squirming ass. But Cindy was not to be denied. She grabbed his hand, and pressed his palm against her breast.

  He gasped. So soft. Dewy skinned. So pale. The tight bud of her nipple tickled his palm. Her scent was making him dizzy.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugged his head towards hers. He yanked her close, and buried his face in her tits, rubbing his cheek against her. Kissing, licking. He’d wanted this for so long, even though his chest felt like a hot blade was turning inside him.

  This would blow up in his face sooner or later. Probably sooner. More like, instantly. He had zero experience, zero technique, but Cindy seemed to like it anyhow. Her face was pink, and she was pressing her crotch against his erection with an insistent, grinding rhythm. She went motionless, and made a sobbing sound as a ripple shuddered through her body. Then she sagged over his shoulder. He nuzzled, memorizing the taste of her sweat, for later. When she’d blow him off again.

  The question rose out of the depths of his anger and sadness. “Why are you doing this?” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking.

  She lifted her head. Her eyes were glowing with arousal. “Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose. It’s not like I have to worry about ruining our friendship, right? It’s already ruined. So why not cop a feel?”

  He pushed her off his lap. She stood there, flaunting her body. “So, Miles?” she taunted. “Are you going to do the nasty with me? You got me all hot. It would be mean to send me off without nailing me.”