by Measha Stone
“Good. Then you’ve been completely warned.” He rose from his chair and walked around her, cupping his hands around her chin and pulling her head back until she her eyes met his. He wrapped one hand around her throat, not hard, no squeeze, but left it there until he saw the hard edges of her eyes soften. “There won’t be another warning. If you snap orders at me, if you try to pull control away from me when we both know you don’t really want that, I will punish you. And it won’t be pleasant. For either of us.”
Her throat constricted beneath his hand.
“I get it. Really, I do.”
“You said you suck at being submissive, but I think you’ve never had someone you could completely trust to be the dominant one. You always waited for him to stop trying, to threaten but not follow through, you couldn’t really rely on him to stay in control so you always had a soft grip on it. Am I right?”
She didn’t need to answer him. The well of tears in her eyes told him everything. He’d hit the nail on the head.
“You can trust me, Sophie. I won’t let you steal the control, and I won’t let you give up on yourself, either.” Leaning down, he kept this hand on her throat and crushed her mouth with his.
Kissing Sophie was like taking his first breath.
He’d meant it to be a soft kiss. One to seal his promise, but once his lips touched hers, he couldn’t help but dive deeper until he heard the soft moan of a woman losing herself in him. He broke the kiss, pressing his lips softly to hers one more time before releasing his grip and stepping back.
“Shit, Scott,” she whispered. “You can’t kiss a girl like that then make her go to work.”
He laughed and tapped the pastry box. “Grab a Danish. I’ll get your shoes for you. Where are they?”
“Gym shoes by the front door, but I need socks.” She started to stand but he gave her a gentle push to stay put. “I’ll get those, too. Just eat something.”
She gaped as he walked down the hall to her bedroom.
He expected to find a categorized room. Color-coded closet and all. What he found was chaos. Her closet door was open, and a mound of clothes, presumably her unwashed laundry, kept the door from closing. The bed hadn’t been made, and wet towels from her shower were tossed at the foot of the bed. He grabbed them and found a pair of socks among a pile of rolled up socks on the top of her dresser.
Stopping in the bathroom, he hung up the towels and was relieved to see more of the usual Sophie. Orderly, clean.
“Here’s your socks.” He tossed the rolled-up ball to her as he passed the kitchen and went to the front door to grab her sneakers.
“My room’s a little messy.” She blushed when he came back with her shoes.
“I noticed.” He winked.
“Behind on the laundry,” she defended while pulling the black socks on over her purple manicured toes.
“I saw that, too. Maybe instead of taking you to Black Light tonight like I was hoping, we should hang here and wash clothes?”
She shot up from her seat with a wide-eyed expression. “Black Light?”
“Yeah. I thought maybe we could go tonight. Play a little, relax. Nothing serious. Just unwind after work.” He’d found a solid play session after a rough day of dealing with assholes much more efficient than downing a bunch of beers at the local bar. “But if you have chores to do, we can put it off.”
“I don’t mind delaying the laundry for one more day.” She sat back down and slipped into her shoes.
“Good, then. We’ll go.” He brought the coffee cups to the sink and flipped off the coffee pot. “Bring the Danishes. Something tells me it’s going to be a long day.”
Chapter 10
The day dragged. Maybe because getting Susan James’s boss to cooperate had taken over an hour, or maybe because every moment he wasn’t talking to her, looking at her, or anywhere near her, Sophie was thinking about what would happen when they went to the club after work.
The spanking he’d given her the night before had awoken a part of her she’d thought she would have to ignore forever, and his words that morning had dragged desires and hopes out of the shadows she’d shoved them into.
Scott had insisted on doing all the driving for the day. Not unusual, and she didn’t worry about anyone at the station house suspecting anything, but it seemed different today. Every move he made or word he said now came with a soft sense of authority behind it she hadn’t felt before. She doubted anyone other than her even noticed it…or that he did it on purpose
Maybe she was playing it all in her head, and it wasn’t real?
“Scott, Sophie, come here please.” The captain called them into his office the moment they walked in.
When they entered his office, he tossed a folder down on the desk near them. “That’s the listing of every account your vic took from her co-workers. Her boss finally sent it over a few minutes ago. Seems he was watching her behavior, but seeing as she was bringing in big clients, he didn’t really care.”
“Yeah, that was the impression we got, too,” Scott said, opening the folder. “Claimed not to know anything about the bounty or any sort of bad feelings between her and anyone else in the firm.”
“Said it was normal for some jealousy. She was up for becoming partner in the spring.” Sophie added.
“Did you talk to any of the other employees while you were over there?” The captain asked, sitting back in his chair.
“A few. Most of them weren’t all that sad to hear of her passing, but I didn’t get a feeling they had much to do with it. None of them admitted to knowing anything about a bounty, though. I believed them,” Sophie said.
“Me too. One of the other associates up for partner wasn’t in the office. We’ll go back on Monday and talk with him then.” Scott closed the folder.
“Well, you may be in luck with another confession.” The captain smiled at them. “She’s waiting for you.” His grin told them, the captain didn’t think the confession was legit.
“Great. Another pocket protector who heard there’s a price on her head and wants the cash? Don’t these idiots understand what jailtime means?” Sophie asked.
“Mrs. Nancy Singleton. Room two.” The captain gestured toward the door.
With a sigh, Sophie left the room and headed toward the interrogation rooms.
“Let’s just let her talk and make her statement. It’ll be easier to find the holes in her story and get rid of her.” Scott grabbed his legal pad from his desk and clicked the pen in his hand.
“Mrs. Singleton,” Sophie addressed the confessor as soon as they walked in. Sophie could have folded the woman up and put her in her pocket, she was so small. The captain hadn’t told them this woman was on the verge of retirement.
“Hello. Yes. That’s my name.” She smiled softly. The bit of lipstick still in place cracked with the movement.
“I’m detective Russo, and this is my partner, Detective Nelson. We understand you have some information for us regarding the death of Susan James.” He placed the pad on the table and slid it to her, dropping his pen on top.
Sophie took the chair this time, letting him walk around the room.
“Yes. Susan worked with me at the McAnistor firm for a time. I left the firm six months ago, after she managed to finagle my last big client.” She fingered the edges of the legal pad. “A Senator,” she added.
“Okay, go on,” Scott prompted when dead air followed.
“Well, she found the firm I moved to and started working on my clients there. See, Susan can’t get clients of her own. She sneaks in acting like she’s filling in, or following up on a detail or something small and innocent enough, but then she worms inside. She finds an error, or she makes one up and wedges her way in. Well, she went after the biggest client I had again. This time I fought for the account. But she won in the end—she had found an error on a tax document.”
“So, she fixed what other people messed up. That made you mad enough to kill?” Sophie leaned back in her chair. The v
ic may not have been completely ethical in her approach, but if she was fixing issues and could offer better work, then didn’t she deserve the bigger clients?
“She didn’t stop at accounts. She had—well, she—she tried to steal my husband, too. Flirted with him like crazy at the office parties, always asking me about him.”
“Did your husband have an affair with Susan?” Scott stopped pacing to ask.
“Well, no, but only because he’s a wonderful, devoted man.” Mrs. Singleton teared up. “A wonderful man,” she said again, only softer.
“Mrs. Singleton, you’ve obviously heard about the bounty. What do you need a million dollars for? What’s making you come in here and tell us you killed someone when you obviously didn’t?” Sophie leaned across the table. The woman’s hand shook when she flicked away a tear.
“I-didn’t know about any sort of…what did you call it? Bounty?”
“Mrs. Singleton, answer me one question and then we’ll go from there. Okay?” Scott came around the table and faced her from behind Sophie.
“Okay, yes. Of course.”
“Do you know how to record a video with a digital camcorder?”
The older woman’s eyes widened and refilled with fresh tears. She had no clue. Sophie doubted she could operate a smart phone well enough to record anything let alone work the video camera they’d found on the scene.
“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Singleton sobbed, pressing her hands to her face.
Scott moved to sit on the table beside the crying woman. “You can help us, though. We need to know how you found out about the money.”
“My husband—he’s so ill. He’s diabetic and has gone into kidney failure, and just recently was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It’s moving fast. That horrible woman! She said she’d–” She started sobbing again. “I knew it wouldn’t work.” Another sniffle.
“I think I can see why you need the money, but if you aren’t working at her firm any longer, how’d you find out?” Scott placed a hand on the woman’s shaking shoulder. With so few words and such an easy touch, he could heal frazzled nerves.
She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. A sense of clarity seemed to fall over her, like she had lost her place but found it again. “I received an email?” She wiped her cheeks again.
Sophie tapped her fingers on the table. “You’re not sure if you received an email?”
“I did.” The woman gave a firm nod and thrust her chin upward.
“Do you still have it? Does it say how to collect the money afterward?” Scott continued to speak slowly and in a calm voice. Sophie gave him the floor, letting him make the connection and get the information they needed.
“No. I deleted it. I didn’t even consider it, but then I heard she’d been killed. I heard on the news this morning. And I just, well, since the news report said there weren’t any suspects, I figured, well. Here I am.”
“And how do you collect the bounty?” Sophie asked.
Mrs. Singleton straightened, frowning at Sophie. “I don’t know. It said once the arrest and confession were recorded, the money would be awarded. I assumed that meant whoever was posting it would contact me?”
Any hope Sophie harbored they’d be getting anything useful out of the distraught woman faded. Of course, it would continue to be illusive.
“Mrs. Singleton, I’m sure the financial strain is making the emotional side of all this even worse. I know of a few great groups who can help with the home health and financial sides. Just sit tight, and I’ll get the list for you, okay?” Sophie patted the woman’s hand.
“Can we get you some coffee or water in the meantime?” Scott offered, sliding off the table
“No, thank you. I’m so sorry. Will I be in trouble now?” She asked Scott.
Sophie had to suppress a giggle at the question. If she only knew what that question could lead to with Scott, she doubted Mrs. Singleton would be asking with such innocence.
“You’ve actually helped us, so no, no trouble.” Scott smiled down at her, that casual smile Sophie enjoyed so damn much. “Oh, but one more question. Susan wasn’t really going after your husband, was she?”
Mrs. Singleton slowly shook her head with a sigh. “No, I just thought that would be a good reason, you know…if I did it.”
Scott touched her shoulder lightly. “I get that. Okay, just sit tight and we’ll get you out of here as quick as we can.”
“I’ll get that list together for her,” Sophie said once they were outside the room.
“You have a soft heart, Sophie.” Scott leaned closer to her ear to say. She couldn’t fight the silly grin that crept across her lips. “Get her list, and I’m going to see if Craig would be able to get into the email server at McAnistor’s and track down that email. When you go back in there, see if she remembers the subject line of the email.”
“Sure thing.” Sophie nodded and started to walk off, only to be stopped by his big hand grabbing her arm and pulling her back.
“Oh, and we’re leaving here in one hour.” His words came out in a growl. Like the very prospect of getting her out of the precinct and into the dungeon drew out the animal in him.
Which was good for her. She liked his beast.
The club bustled by the time they walked in together. Sophie held tight to her bag with the non-street-legal outfit she’d brought to change into. When Scott had picked her back up after dropping off for a shower and some dinner, he didn’t mention the bag. Probably because he’d texted her and told her to bring something to change into at the club.
With the music playing, the dark ambiance with the neon lighting, the nerves she’d been fighting on the drive over sent electric tingles all through her.
Scott placed his hand on her back. “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m right here. I’m with you,” he said into her ear and led her toward the bar.
“Why do you call me Sophie when everyone else calls me Sophie?” Focal points helped when her stomach twisted with nerves.
He found them a seat at the bar, ordered two sodas, and pushed a bowel of pretzels toward Sophie.
“Have a few of these. I know you didn’t eat dinner.” He grabbed one and tossed it into his mouth. Completely avoiding her question, he plucked a pretzel and handed it to her.
“You don’t know that, you just assume that.” She gave him a smile and grabbed the pretzel.
“Did you?” he asked with the right corner of his lips turned up.
“No, but you didn’t know it.” She threw another pretzel in her mouth while he chuckled.
“You’re nervous about being here, and you said you don’t eat when you’re nervous so you don’t get a stomach ache.” He thanked the bartender when she brought their drinks over.
“Do you have to remember everything I say?” She focused on getting her straw into her mouth. She hated that the threat of getting sick when her nerves got out of control could get in her way of having a good time, but now that he knew it, too, it just embarrassed her.
“Did you bring a change of clothes?” He popped another pretzel into his mouth and touched the strap of the bag crossing her chest.
“Yeah. I just need stop in the bathroom and change.” She remembered the general layout of the club but surveyed around to find exactly where the changing rooms were.
“You’re going to change now?” he asked, confused.
“Yeah. You wanted me to bring club gear, right?” Obviously, she’d been wrong.
“I meant for after we played, like a comfy sweater or something.” He leaned closer so she could hear him better.
“Sophie?” A familiar voice called from a short distance away.
She closed her eyes at the sound. The odds really liked stacking up against her.
“It is you. Hey!”
She spun around on her stool to greet Tate.
“Hey, Tate. Good to see you, again.” Good thing society had a set of predetermined greetings that fit pretty much every situation.
He hadn’t changed since
the last time she’d seen him. Large and in charge. Scott slid off his stool and moved closer to her. Two Neanderthals hovering. Great.
“Tate, this is my-uh-well, this is Scott.” She gestured to her side where he stood. “Scott, this is Tate. We used to work together.” The dark lighting of the room hid his features pretty well, but she could definitely see the tick in Scott’s jaw. Could he be jealous? Of Tate? The thought was laughable. Tate had eyes for one person and one person only.
“Isn’t Sydney with you?” She leaned over to see if she was hiding behind the hulking man.
“Washroom.” Tate didn’t even hide sizing up Scott.
“Good to meet you.” Scott held his hand out first.
“Yeah, same here. So, you and Sophie are together?” Tate asked, relaxing after the handshake. How much did men actually learn about each other from a simple handshake?
Scott nodded. “You were her partner before?”
“No. We worked a few cases together here and there, but we weren’t really partners,” Sophie interjected.
“You two partners?” Tate waggled a finger between them.
“There you are. I thought you were going to wait by the water section.” Sydney bounced into the conversation. “Sophie! Wow.” Her face lit up with her smile. No wonder Tate adored the ground she walked on. She was gorgeous. Inside and out.
“Hi.” Sophie gave a little wave. How could Scott think to play tonight with these two in the room? They’d have to cancel.
“I didn’t expect to see you, well, here, or really anywhere. I thought you were heading off on some big excursion, to see the world?” Tate hauled Sydney to his side.
“See the world?” Scott asked, sounding puzzled. Leave it to them to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. She didn’t want to have to relive it all over again.
“I just changed districts,” Sophie said, hoping Tate and Sydney could read her eyes because she was trying to make them say, drop it.
Tate turned back to Scott. “So, you’re partners then?”
“Yeah.” Scott gave Sophie one more side glance then focused his attention on Tate.
