by Measha Stone
“You don’t have to do that,” she argued. “Maybe you can still get a partner? Maybe they’ll still let you roll? Or someone from the audience will want to join and take my place?”
He shook his head and wrapped his hand around hers when she didn’t take his offer.
“I’m getting you a burger then taking you home and putting you to bed.”
She didn’t put up a fight when he pulled her to her feet. He didn’t back up, either, making her breasts brush against his chest. She didn’t match him in height, but he didn’t dwarf her either. She stared at his chin in silence. He’d never been so close to her before, although they’d shared a car since being paired up.
Hell, he smelled good. Like musk and leather.
“A burger sounds perfect.”
“Let’s go.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her along. “Before I change my mind and give you the ass whipping you deserve.”
She heard him, but it had been said so soft, without a glance in her direction, she figured it hadn’t been meant for her ears.
Chapter 3
Scott bit into his apple.
She was late.
Sophie was never late.
He checked his phone again to see if she’d left a message. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. She’d eaten her burger and appeared much better when he had dropped her at home afterward.
Better? No. She’d looked fucking angelic, all curled up in her bed, her comforter pulled up to her chin as though he hadn’t already seen the voluptuous curves of her body with her outfit at Black Light. That purple lace thing she’d worn had his blood pressure up. Holy hell, she had a body that needed touching and pinching and licking, and biting and fucking.
He took another bite. Thoughts like that weren’t going to help him through their shift. No matter how attracted he found himself, they were partners. They would solve whatever case came their way, do their paperwork, and head home to their own apartments.
At first, she hadn’t wanted him to take her upstairs, but he wasn’t leaving until he knew she’d eaten and was safe in bed. The deep-red blush that had crept onto her cheeks had proven what he already knew. She didn’t mind being told what to do. At least when it came to being taken care of. He’d seen her in action in the field.
When a uniformed officer tried to step on her toes, or anyone got in the way of her getting the answers she wanted—she shouldn’t be trifled with. It made being her partner all the more fun and satisfying. Being able to trust his partner had his back and took the job as seriously as he did made every case seem easy.
He took another bite. Where the fuck was she?
Even if she was a little embarrassed over the previous night, she wouldn’t let that stop her from coming in. What if she’d fainted again? Or worse…and he’d left her all alone.
Tossing his apple core into the trash, he snagged his phone. If she wasn’t going to return his text or answer his call, he’d just go to her apartment.
“Russo!” Captain Peterson called from the doorway of his office. “Got a call. A woman’s been found dead in her apartment. Forensics is headed over there now. Sophie’s on her way there, too.”
“Do we know anything yet?”
“Only that she’s dead. Single gunshot to the head. Here’s the address.”
Scott took the scrap of paper with the address scribbled on it and grabbed his jacket. The scene wasn’t far, maybe a ten-minute drive. Easy to do in the middle of the morning.
Why hadn’t she come straight to the precinct, though? He’d have his answers soon enough.
He parked behind her sedan in the parking lot of the apartment building. The forensic team arrived at the same time as him, and they all walked up to the apartment on the third floor together.
Inside was a gruesome sight. Unfortunately, one he’d seen too many times before. The victim was already being removed from the scene, and Scott stayed out of the way as they wheeled the body from the room. They’d have to meet with the medical examiner once he finished his evaluation.
Blood splatter and tissue covered the living room floor, just to the side of an overturned chair. Everything in the apartment appeared too expensive to touch. The chair was no different, other than it seemed to belong to the dining set, not from the living room furniture.
“Hey,” Sophie greeted him with her usual smile and nod. With her pad in her hand and pen poised, ready to jot down her findings, she appeared as though this were any other day.
“Hi,” he responded. The forensics team walked around them, cameras flashed from photographs being taken. It wasn’t exactly the place to discuss the previous evening.
“So, from what the coroner, said, it appears at first sight to be a suicide. Gunshot to her temple. The gun was found here.” She aimed the tip of her pen at the floor. “She was sitting there. And the splatter is on the other side.”
He watched her examine the initial scene, her mind working, while she nibbled the inside of her right cheek. She’d pulled her thick, long, soft red hair back into a ponytail at the base of her neck and swapped out the white tunic with the low V-neck for her usual blue button-down blouse and black trousers, topped off with black and white running shoes. Everything appeared to be back to normal, but nothing was the same.
“You sound doubtful.” Scott grabbed a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on.
“I think it’s too early to call it that.” She shrugged. “Look.” She pointed at the video camera situated on a tripod and aimed at the chair. “She videotaped it?”
“Most people just leave a note,” Scott said. “Do we have a time of death?” he asked, while she inspected the camera.
“No, not yet. I have a few units asking the neighbors if they heard anything. Most of the apartments are empty, though. It’s late enough, they’re probably at work.” She turned the camera to the side.
“Who found her?” he asked
Sophie gestured toward the woman sitting at the dining room table in the next room. “The maid showed up and found her boss on the floor there, half her head blown out.” Sophie sighed and went back to checking out the camera. “The battery’s dead. I can’t play the video. We’ll have to watch it back at the precinct. Hopefully the battery didn’t die before everything was captured.” She waved a young guy from the forensics team over and bagged up the camera.
“I supposed in a building like this, there might be more privacy walls than in an ordinary building?” Scott evaluated the apartment. “I don’t see pictures of a family, or any pictures at all.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She scanned the apartment. “We’ll have to talk with the maid once they’re done taking the initial statement.”
Scott walked around the apartment, taking notes and considering what evidence he could find. Nothing appeared out of place or stolen. The front door hadn’t been kicked in or tampered with. Other than the chair being tipped over, most likely from the force of the gunshot, no furniture was out of place.
“So, you sleep okay?” He eased into the conversation while jotting down an observation. Sophie, standing beside him, tensed with his question.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You were late this morning.” He shrugged.
“I wasn’t late. I was here.”
He huffed a laugh. “You were late.”
She paused in her surveillance of the scene and glanced up at him. Her dark brown eyes held him captive. Other than a thin layer of mascara on her lashes, she hadn’t bothered with makeup. She never did. And she didn’t need it.
“I overslept a little.”
“So, you weren’t trying to avoid me?” he asked, stepping over a spot of blood and heading to the windows. Shimmering gold window treatments kept out any sunlight. No chance of someone having seen anything from the neighboring buildings.
“Avoid you?” She laughed. It was forced. She swept her gaze away from him. “How would I do that when we’re partners? Besides, there’s no reason to hide from you. We saw each other at a club. No big
deal.” She took a large step away from him and focused on the coffee table.
“We’re just not gonna talk about last night at all, then? Just two people running into each other?” He stuffed his notebook into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“What’s there to talk about?” She shrugged.
He made his way to her side. The other cops in the room didn’t need to hear what they had to say. “What? How about how you starved yourself all day yesterday? How about when I asked you if you were a new member you lied?” He kept his voice down, but he kept it firm.
Her throat worked as she swallowed whatever response she was working up to giving him. They were in too public a place to have this conversation.
“We can talk at lunch if you really think it’s needed.” She peered over his shoulder at the two uniformed officers watching them from the front door.
It was going to be a very interesting lunch. “I’ll go talk with them. Why don’t you try to get something out of the maid?”
“Got it.” She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath—like she needed to prepare herself for the conversation with the upset employee. Interviewing witnesses, and friends of the victim didn’t usually unsettle her. Maybe it was him.
He waited until she’d introduced herself to the woman before engaging the officers at the door. The nervous, shocked-looking maid softened her expression after only a moment of talking with Sophie.
She had that way about her. Making everyone around her comfortable, like she’d known them forever.
Lunch was going to be difficult to navigate. She knew how to evade questions, and she seemed a little reluctant to admitting anything had transpired between them last night.
But he knew it had. He’d never felt such an intense compulsion to protect someone as he had with her. When her eyes had rolled back, and she’d fainted, his heart stopped. He’d gone into action without thinking about the roulette game or his friends who had been with him. All that mattered was making sure she was okay.
When he figured out her lack of eating had caused it, her neglect and her lie about being a new member to the club, his concern waned to irritation. If she were his, really his girl, he would have spanked her supple ass right there in the medic room then taken her home to finish the punishment with his belt.
But instead, she’d gotten a cheeseburger and a good-night kiss. On her forehead. Though she had been asleep by then and probably didn’t even know he’d dropped the kiss there.
Lunch would be tricky, but she would answer his questions. They’d get to know each other a little more, and if he had any way of convincing her, maybe she’d agree to seeing him for dinner, too.
Chapter 4
Sophie pulled her car into the burger joint a few blocks from the precinct. Scott parked beside her.
He was going to have questions. He’d want answers. She took a deep breath. Why she’d gone to Black Light was none of his business. She’d just let him know they needed to keep their relationship professional, and anything he may have thought happened the night before didn’t. And couldn’t. And wouldn’t.
A knuckle wrapping on her window startled her. She pushed the door open and gave him a glare. “You didn’t need to scare me.”
“Scare you?” he laughed. “What, seeing me park and walk over to you? Yep, I’m a real first-class ninja.”
Point—Scott.
“Let’s just get our food.” She maneuvered around him and went for the door. He reached it first, pulling it open for her and letting her go first. She grumbled a thank you.
He picked an empty booth in the far corner of the diner. There would be no getting out of his questions. She would just need to be precise, direct, and truthful. Scott had the best nose for deceit she’d seen in a detective in a long time.
She shimmied into the booth across from him and pulled the menu from behind the sugar container. There was no reason to even skim it. She was getting a burger. And a Coke. She’d go for a longer walk before bed tonight to make up for it.
Feeling watched, she peeked over the menu. Caramel-brown eyes stared at her. She put the menu down and folded her hands on top of it.
“Already know what you want?” she asked with forced levity. Lunch with him had never been awkward. He was making it weird.
“Yeah. I do,” he answered. But not in the yep, gonna have the mushroom burger sort of way. This had a deep undertone. He hadn’t smiled when he said it, either, and his eyes narrowed just a hair. No, he wasn’t talking about lunch.
She fisted her right hand, digging her nails into her palm. Making more of things than what they were or what they could be would only end in heartache. For both of them. Or one of them. Her. She would be the heartbroken one, and he’d be bouncing off to the next woman. A hot woman. Like one of those women she saw at the club. The ones she couldn’t go shopping at the same stores with because her hips were more generous in the curve and her tummy just as much.
Sophie didn’t have a hang-up about her weight or her curvy body. It had taken a long time to love the body she was in, but she did. It was hers, and she wouldn’t justify herself to anyone. That didn’t mean she lived in a fantasy world, though.
“Hi. I’m Sandra, and I’ll be your waitress this afternoon. Is there anything I can get you started with?” The usual beginning to a dining experience.
Scott turned his typical charming smile on the waitress, who couldn’t have been a day younger than sixty-five. “I think we’re ready.” He gestured at Sophie to put her order in.
“I’ll have the cheeseburger, medium rare, with a side salad, please. Oh, and a cherry Coke.” She tucked the menu back in place while the waitress scribbled on her pad.
“Dressing?”
“Ranch.” As though there were another dressing worthy of touching a salad.
“I’ll have the same, except I’ll have fries instead of the salad.”
A few more scribbles and waitress Sandra was gone.
“I didn’t get very far with the maid,” Sophie said.
“No.”
“What?” She met his eyes. He shook his head.
“No. Work stays at work. We’re not working, now. It’s just us, and we need to talk.” He jammed a finger into the tabletop.
She grabbed a straw from the dispenser and peeled the wrapper off. “Fine. Talk.” She slowly ripped the paper.
“How are you feeling, really?” He flattened his hands over one of hers.
“I’m fine, Scott. I told you it was just nerves.”
“You didn’t eat all day.”
She sighed and pulled her hand from beneath his. Who could think with the electric current he sent up her arm?
“I was nervous about going to the party. And sometimes when I get nervous, I get an upset stomach. I was trying to avoid that, so I didn’t eat. But I ate the burger you bought me, and I had breakfast this morning. I’m not a person who starves herself.” She leaned back in the booth and waved a hand over her body. “As you can see.”
He narrowed his eyes and stared at her silently, tapping the tabletop. As though his internal lie detector was calculating her response.
“Don’t talk like that.” He pointed a finger at her.
“Like what? I’m not being negative, I’m being honest. Telling a girl she’s not curvy when she full on is—makes no damn sense. If there’s no problem with a girl being a bit bigger than normal, then admitting it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
His eyes widened a fraction. “Yes. You’re right, but that’s not what I meant. I meant your tone.”
“My tone?”
“Yes. You have a tone when you’re about to get bitchy.” He leaned back when Sandra brought their drinks, letting her slide their cherry Cokes in front of them and take her leave.
“I’m not getting bitchy.” She stabbed her straw into her drink.
“No, not at all,” he said with a sterner lilt to his voice. “Okay, so you were nervous.”
“That’s what I said, yes.
”
“Fair enough,” he conceded and took a sip of his soda.
Tension left her muscles. Lifting her drink, she did the same.
“That takes us to the lying.” He pushed his soda to the side and leaned over the table. “You told me you’d been a member for a little while. Which technically was true, but Garreth told me you haven’t actually been to the club since your membership was approved.”
“What happened to the whole confidentiality agreement thing?” Black Light was the most exclusive and most private club in the D.C. area, which was one of the reasons she sought a membership. No matter it was going to eat into her bank account every month.
“Garreth thought I already knew. Don’t avoid the topic.”
“I did sign up a few months ago, when I first moved to the neighborhood, but last night was the first time I actually went.”
Sandra, thank her beautiful wrinkled face, arrived with their food. Sophie pushed the burger to the side and pulled her salad in front of her. The burger wouldn’t have so much of an impact if she had her veggies first.
“Why?”
“Why what?” She pulled off the little paper wrapper holding her napkin and silverware hostage and pulled out the knife.
“Why were you so nervous? New to the scene or just here in D.C.?” He plucked a fry and tossed it in his mouth.
“You’re not going to let me just eat my burger in peace, are you?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“I’ll tell you but then we can’t talk about it anymore, okay?” Couldn’t he see the land mines he was walking them toward with all his questions?
“Why not?”
She growled and put her knife down. “Scott. We work together. And not like have cubicles in the same department, but like depend on each other day in and day out during these cases. We can’t mix what happened last night with what we do during the day.”
He leaned back, studying her.
“So, us having this in common, the kink side of our personal lives, that will somehow mess up our work life?”
“So long as we keep our personal lives separate, then no.”
