THE TRUTH ABOUT HARRY

by Tracy Kelleher

  "The older victim might be Lord." Lauren glanced over at Sebastian, who sat in a chair next to her. She jotted down the case number in her notebook.

  He nodded. "Possibly. I'll check with the VA to see if I can obtain dental records—however dated they might be. If we're lucky—not that I believe in luck—we'll get a match."

  "Sounds good. Meanwhile, let's check out the missing persons." Lauren closed the one program the way the detective had instructed her and called up the other on missing persons.

  This one contained more names over the same time period. After slogging through about eleven weeks, Lauren's stomach began growling loudly.

  Sebastian leaned closer, his mouth close to her ear. "Hungry?" Under the desk, he placed his hand on her thigh.

  Even through her jeans, she felt the warmth of his touch. She surveyed him through half-closed eyes. "Starved."

  Sebastian grinned. "Anything I could do to abate your hunger?"

  "What I have in mind would never be a blue plate special, let alone come from the frozen food aisle of the supermarket." She leered.

  Lauren sat up straight. Had she just leered? She must have, because Sebastian was leering back.

  He bent forward—

  And his cell phone rang.

  He rolled his eyes. "I've got to take this call, but hold that thought." He planted a quick kiss on her lips and rising, flipped open his phone.

  Lauren followed his back with her eyes as he moved away for privacy. Making out in a police station was definitely a novel experience.

  She sighed and stared blankly at the computer screen. She could easily get used to doing all sorts of things with Sebastian Alberti, she realized—all too easily. She held her eyes shut and deliberately reopened them. The words still swam on the monitor—except for one that jumped out at her like a sumo wrestler on skates.

  Or a small, middle-aged lady in Rockports with appalling taste in wallpaper.

  Alice Jeffries had filed a missing persons claim four months ago regarding a Benny Lord. Benny? Bernard? It was too close to be a coincidence. Lauren jerked her head around to see if Sebastian was still occupied on the phone. He was pacing in the small office and didn't see her. She shifted back to the computer and quickly jotted down the information.

  There was no way in hell she was going to share what she'd just found—not right now at least. She needed to check it out—alone. She wouldn't be so much hiding evidence, she reasoned, as trying to put it in context. No good reporter went off half-cocked, right?

  Lauren wiped her suddenly sweaty palms.

  Even though Sebastian had sworn that she was no longer under suspicion, Lauren had a sense of foreboding that something like this could tip the balance against her—yet again. She didn't want to fight him. Not because she wasn't ready to defend herself, but because it was a lot harder to mount the good fight when all you really wanted was respect from the other party. She had waged that kind of long-running battle with her parents. She didn't want to do it with Sebastian.

  No, the best thing to do was to give him the information when she knew more and was better able to control his reactions. She forced herself to examine the remaining files.

  She was finishing off the rest of the otherwise uneventful entries when Sebastian rejoined her. "Find anything positive?" he asked.

  Lauren shook her head. "Nothing I'd call positive." The understatement of the year! "What about you? Your call?"

  He cocked his head. "The usual bribing of corrupt officials, foiling the bad guys and restoring religious art treasures to their rightful home. Just an average day."

  "Well, you may call it average, but I think it calls for some well-deserved public glory. Please say you'll let me write the story for the wire services?"

  Sebastian sliced his hand through the air. "No stories. The commission likes to solve things quietly, without fanfare—all the better to infiltrate underground organizations and cultivate contacts without blowing anyone's cover."

  "Well, if you can't enjoy public glory, how about a little celebration?" She desperately welcomed a change in focus from Bernard Lord and now—she gulped—quite possibly Benny Lord.

  "I'm already on top of it." Sebastian pulled his hand from behind his back. "You said you were hungry, and this was the best I could muster from the vending machines in the hallway." He placed a bag of Doritos and a can of Dr. Pepper on the desk next to the terminal.

  "Doritos I can definitely handle, but Dr. Pepper? You are showing your southern roots, Alberti."

  "You've got something against Dr. Pepper?" he asked with sincere outrage. "Why, sugar, Dr. Pepper is the elixir of the gods." He hunched down next to her. "Tell you what, though."

  "What's that?" Lauren swiftly closed her notebook without taking her eyes off his face.

  "How about I show you something else from the South that's just as sweet and even more satisfying?"

  Lauren slipped her notebook into her bag. It was hard to flirt when her anxiety level was at an all-time high.

  He brought his head down to hers and, brushing aside her hair, licked the skin on the back of her neck with the tip of his tongue.

  Lauren cleared her throat and straightened up. "I guess I could use something to go with the chips."

  See, it wasn't that hard after all.

  "When I offered to engage in illicit activities, this is not exactly what I had in mind." Sebastian locked the door to the car and watched Lauren head into Elwood's Tattoos and Piercings, next to her apartment. Sebastian had found a parking space on the street, right in front. Naturally.

  Lauren shrugged off his complaints. "You should learn to expand your horizons, Sebastian. Anyway, as I told you, when I checked my voice mail this morning, my landlord left a message that he'd left a set of keys to the new locks with Elwood. Surely you can delay tripping the light fantastic for a few minutes while I pick them up and check that they work."

  Given the unspecified danger Lauren was in, Sebastian thought the decision to leave the keys to her apartment with the proprietor of a tattoo parlor showed poor judgment at best, a real threat at worst. He scowled as he crossed the sidewalk and stepped behind her. She pulled open the door to the store, and they were immediately assaulted by heavy metal music.

  Elwood, all three hundred and twenty pounds of him, sat behind the counter. His black hair was in dreads and he wore a jean jacket with the sleeves cut out, all the better to display the barbed wire tattoo around the gleaming mahogany skin of his upper left arm. He looked up from reading the New York Review of Books. "Yo, Lauren baby, what's up? You finally decide to get that belly button ring after all? Just in time for spring and all those sexy bare midriffs."

  "Glad to see you're up on your fashion trends, Elwood, but I'm still not ready to make the commitment," Lauren apologized. "But if I do, I'll definitely come to you first."

  "What about your friend here?" Elwood nodded toward Sebastian and surveyed him critically. "Nipple rings really turn the women on, you know."

  Sebastian plunged his hands into the pockets of his buttery-soft, dark brown leather jacket. "Do you think I need help?"

  Elwood cocked an eyebrow and laughed abruptly. "Hey, can't fault a man for trying to do business. No problems, man." He nodded to Lauren. "So if you're not here to discuss the newest John Updike book, either, I suppose that leaves the keys that your sorry-ass landlord left me." He unlocked the register and lifted the bill tray. "If you ask me, he'd be better off investing in a security system and a couple of rottweilers. I don't like the idea of you alone up there."

  Lauren took the keys. "You sound like my mother."

  Elwood held up his hands. "Hey, don't knock mothers. I always listen to mine."

  Lauren made a face and glanced at Sebastian. "Say, handsome, you coming up?"

  "I'll be with you in a minute. I just need to get some change from your neighbor here for the meter." Sebastian waited for her to go out the door, then turned to Elwood. "You see anything the day of the break-in that might
have been related?"

  Elwood shook his head. "Like I told the cops, nada. This neighborhood gets a lot of foot traffic, so there're people coming and going all the time."

  "What about since then? Anyone hanging around more than usual?"

  "Sorry, not really." Elwood made a stop sign with one enormous hand. "One thing, though. Earlier today, I saw this white dude who I hadn't seen before outside her building. He wasn't doing anything, didn't try the lock, if you catch my drift. But I didn't like him hanging out, so I stepped outside and made my presence known. When he saw me staring at him, he made this big deal about asking if I did Hells Angels tats."

  "I'm sure you've gotten that request before."

  "Not from someone in a JC Penney blazer and orthopedic shoes."

  Sebastian removed his hands from his pockets. So much for Mr. Casual. "Can you describe him, other than the clothes?"

  Elwood shrugged. "That's the thing of it—I've never seen a more average dude in my life. Twenties, maybe thirties, medium height, brown hair. Looked like he hadn't ever seen the inside of a gym."

  "You didn't happen to notice a car, did you? A dark compact?"

  "Sorry, I had other customers come in, so I didn't get a chance to see where he went after he left the store." Elwood paused. "Listen, I hear your concern. Rest assured, anyone messes with Lauren, and I might be forced to do something nasty. You know what I mean?"

  Sebastian nodded. "I know exactly what you mean." He rapped the countertop with his knuckles. "Thanks. Listen, here's my card with my cell number on it. You hear or see anything suspicious, you call me, okay—and that's before ringing 911."

  Elwood studied Sebastian's business card before slipping it into the chest pocket of his vest. "Gotcha." He hit the transaction button on the register. "Here."

  Sebastian frowned in confusion.

  "Change for the parking meter—on the house. Take care of her."

  Sebastian took the change and left, only slightly relieved. Earlier at the police station, he'd sensed Lauren's tension, and he was worried she might have realized that this case was putting her in jeopardy. He hated that, hated not being able to do something to stop the perpetrator, hated to see the worry that she hid with that smart-alecky bravado of hers. Going back to her apartment for the first time after the crime was only going to exacerbate that anxiety.

  He loaded the meter with some quarters and looked up and down the street. That's when he spotted the store across the way. He might not be able to lay his hand on the criminal or criminals at this very moment, but maybe he could do something about the worry in Lauren's eyes.

  "You really shouldn't leave your apartment open this way," Sebastian said, pushing aside Lauren's slightly ajar front door. He stopped when he found her kneeling next to packing boxes on the floor.

  She looked up, emotion visible in her eyes. "I thought since I needed to buzz people in at the front door it was just easier. But you're right, I should be more careful."

  Sebastian inhaled deeply. He didn't mind being right. He just didn't like being right when it clearly made her sadder than she already was.

  She lifted the lid of one box and rummaged through it. "If the thief had walked off with these, I wouldn't have had to bother unpacking them. Would you look at all this stuff my parents sent over?"

  He wasn't sure if she meant the question as a real one, but placing the shopping bag he was holding on the floor, he squatted down and peered inside. "What's that?" he asked. There was a pale blue book with gold embossing wedged into the side.

  Lauren reached down and took it out of the box. "Oh, God, my old diary." She laughed with a shrug and opened the book from the back. "This is so embarrassing—all this preadolescent angst. I used to pour out my heart about the injustice of not being one of the popular girls—my extra roll of fat around the middle immediately cut me out of the 'in' crowd, you see. Other things, like ambition, probably didn't help, either."

  "Their loss, believe me," Sebastian said.

  "Oh, I haven't suffered any long-lasting trauma." Lauren randomly leafed through the pages. "Geez, would you look at this. I wrote that my family sailed on a boat through the Suez Canal. The ferry to Cape May, I'd believe—but definitely not Egypt. That is so typical. I was manic about writing every day, but when there really wasn't anything going on, I kind of made up things, embellished them. Somehow it made life more exciting, I don't know, rosier." She stared limply at the page—reading but not reading.

  Sebastian reached over and took the book and gently placed it on the floor before taking her hands in his. "Oh, bella, I wish I could make it all go away, but I can't."

  Lauren stared at her small hands engulfed in his. She swallowed with difficulty and realized that this was the first time Sebastian had ever spoken to her in Italian. It was only one word, but sweet. Kind.

  She had been prepared to steel herself against coming back and facing the mess. Sweetness and kindness were a whole other kettle of fish. She dropped her chin to her chest. "I feel so violated."

  "I know." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently on the forehead. "It's perfectly natural to be upset, to feel scared. But from now on, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise."

  Lauren's eyes were watery and on the verge of overflowing. She lifted her head up. "I'm used to taking care of myself, you know. I'd never ask you to protect me."

  "I know. Your determination and ability to take care of yourself are probably your most attractive attributes." He pulled back, his arms still encircling her, and did a quick up-and-down survey. "Well, two of your most attractive attributes."

  Lauren wiped her eyes and shook her head. "You are such a bullshit artist."

  "Au contraire. As both a native Italian and an adopted Southerner, it's merely my natural charm."

  This time Lauren laughed. "Dream on."

  He lifted the corner of his mouth, producing a sexy dimple in his cheek. And Lauren remembered all over again just how blown away she'd been by his good looks that first time at the press conference. "It's a good thing I have a healthy male ego," he joked.

  According to all logic, she should have been too worried about why her mother was mixed up with Benny Lord, and what relation—if any—Benny had to Bernard to indulge in sexual bantering. But logic seemed to have flown out the window.

  Lauren turned her attention downward, raised her eyebrows, then looked up. Sebastian may have relaxed his grip, but their bodies still fit together snugly. "That's not all that's healthy," she observed.

  His grin widened. "Which is highly convenient, darlin', because I have just the cure for what ails you—and me." He reached behind him and grabbed the shopping bag by the handles.

  Lauren noticed the large purchase for the first time. "Shopping? You're talking about shopping?"

  "I've always been a great admirer of your deductive capabilities, Lauren, but this time you are sorely lacking." He placed the bag between them. "Here, a present for you."

  She frowned and opened the bag. "They're sheets." She picked up the top packet and skimmed the label. "Sebastian, you fool, these are Pratesi sheets. Where did you get them?"

  "At the store across the street." He rose and proceeded to pick her up in his arms, shopping bag and all. Well, there were muscles under those designer clothes of his, after all.

  "Sebastian, these are incredibly expensive, and nobody goes into that store who doesn't vacation in Biarritz and drive a Mercedes. Oh, I forgot—you drive a Mercedes. You've probably been to Biarritz, too."

  He eased her down onto a chair in her bedroom and started stripping her bed.

  She clutched the shopping bag. "What do you think you're doing?"

  He gathered her sheets into a ball and put them in the laundry hamper he found in her closet. "I'm attempting to erase the bad memories and replace them with new ones—unforgettable ones, I hope."

  He walked over, dipping his hand into the shopping bag, and dug out the package with the bottom sheet. He ripped it
open and handed her the cellophane wrapper.

  Lauren looked at the label, mystified. "According to what's printed here, these are made of seven hundred count Egyptian cotton material."

  "Soft as silk, yet wears like iron, according to the saleswoman." Sebastian glanced up from slipping the fourth fitted corner on the mattress. "Toss me the top sheet, will you?"

  She poked through the bag. "You want me to help?"

  "No, I've got it under control. I'm trying to impress you with my domestic skills, you see."

  Lauren blinked and furrowed her brow. She shifted the bag on her lap and pulled out the pillow slips. "They're a beautiful color, by the way. Kind of a pale peachy rose."

  Sebastian snapped the top sheet open and let it flutter over the bed. He bent over and smoothed it flat. "I thought so." He looked up and stopped. "It's the color your skin turns when you're aroused."

  Lauren stopped breathing. And felt her cheeks start to blossom in that very same color. "Really, Sebastian, this is too generous a gift. I couldn't possibly sleep on these."

  "I wasn't planning on you sleeping."

  And it was with a package of pillowcases in one hand and a too, too chic shopping bag on her lap that Lauren Jeffries fell in love. And it had nothing to do with the invitation to have sex.

  Well, that didn't hurt.

  * * *

  11

  « ^ »

  "Here you go, Lauren, a little something to quell your hunger." Phoebe held out a foot-long hot dog that glowed an iridescent pink, even in daylight. Its paper wrapper probably contained more organic ingredients than the hot dog, let alone the roll on which it rested.