Strong, Sleek and Sinful

by Lorie O'Clare

  “Easy there,” he said, grabbing her arm and then damn near slipping himself when he helped keep the files from crashing to the floor. “Hey!” he yelled at the janitor down the hall. “Get a sign up here that the floor is wet.”

  The janitor mumbled something but moved to obey.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” The young clerk looked flushed when she clutched the files to her chest.

  “Good.” Perry was sure he sounded gruff but didn’t care.

  He never thought twice about most of the women he worked with flirting with him or showing signs of interest or curiosity when they shot furtive glances his direction. Usually, if a woman acted just the opposite, he noticed that faster than the blatant invitations he too often received. But this morning, exhausted, wet, and aching to be curled up under warm blankets with Kylie sleeping in his arms, he didn’t care what kind of reaction the young lady he wasn’t sure he’d seen before gave him.

  He entered the “pit,” immediately aware of how loud everyone seemed to be. Heading for his desk, he didn’t realize he glared at Barker and Richey until the women quit giggling and gave him curious stares.

  “Tough night, Flynn?” Jane asked, giving him the onceover and then nudging her partner with her elbow. “I’d hate to see what the lady looks like.”

  Both women chuckled and resumed their conversation, an animated gossip session concerning someone in Forensics. Perry wasn’t expected to respond, so he didn’t.

  “Perry, there you are. Come here.” Carl gestured with his head and then brought his Styrofoam cup to his lips and downed a fair bit of coffee.

  Coffee. That’s what Perry needed. Several cups at least.

  “In a minute,” he said, and turned toward the industrialsize coffeemaker that sat on a table in the corner of the “pit.”

  Perry helped himself to a cup and blew on the steaming brew as he turned and followed his partner.

  “What’s up?” Perry asked, enduring how hot the coffee was and practically gulping it down, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly.

  “Rad’s not in yet.”

  Perry reached his desk and slumped against it. “Okay, and?”

  “Man, you look like shit. Like you’ve been up all night or something.” Carl downed more of his coffee and turned toward his own desk, which was next to Perry’s facing it. Grabbing the morning paper off it, Carl flapped it open and slapped it down on Perry’s desk. “We’re front-page news, man, and not in a good way.”

  Perry hated having to concentrate so he could focus on the print that glared up at him. The large headline and subtitles underneath were enough to kick-start his brain into high gear—and create a dull headache, which started throbbing as his blood pressure soared.

  “Fuck me, bitch,” he grumbled, downing the rest of his coffee. The burn down his esophagus did nothing to distract the headache that grew in intensity by the moment. “This is this morning’s paper?”

  Carl must have viewed the question as rhetorical, since the date was right on the top of the page. “Not only does the fucking reporter dog the hell out of us—the prick—but look,” he growled, speaking faster as his temper became more apparent. He stabbed the newspaper with his index finger. “It says here they’re turning the case over to the FBI. We’re on this case, Flynn. I’ll be a goddamn monkey’s uncle if we’re pulled off this one, man. This is a doozy. We just need a few really good leads. Fucking reporter, what’s her name?” He started muttering in Spanish as he dragged his finger down the paper. “Hannah Oswald here announces to all of Kansas City and surrounding suburbs that the online predator could possibly be one of our own.”

  Perry pushed himself away from his desk and refilled his cup. Carl followed him, ranting and raving, while Perry drank half of the cup, refilled it again, and then turned to meet his partner’s heated gaze.

  “Let’s head downstairs and talk to Pinky. I don’t know who the hell leaked the news to the press, but if Peter is using one of our computers to stalk these girls, I want to know right now which computer he’s using in our station.” Suddenly a few things made sense, Rad’s behavior for one. But if the Chief believed Peter was a cop on the force, why didn’t he fill Perry in on that piece of info when he gave him the case?

  If the motherfucker believed Perry was a suspect, he would hand the man’s head to him on a goddamn platter.

  Pete Goddard and Franco joined Barker and Richey. Perry wasn’t sure which one of them spotted the newspaper on his desk, but the four of them started commenting on it and he watched each of them closely, focusing on Franco and Goddard. He didn’t see any reaction out of either one of them that could qualify as odd or suspicious. But then if a cop was abducting teenage girls and using the station to instigate his crime, the asshole would have balls of steel. He’d be cocky—arrogant enough to believe he could pull off horrendous crimes under everyone’s noses and not get caught. And so far, he’d been right.

  Joseph Pinkman might have possibly invented computers and just stayed on the low about it. Fitting the profile of the classic geek to a T, Pinky glanced up from behind his monitor and pushed his wire-frame glasses up his nose when Perry rapped on the open door to Pinky’s office.

  “I need you to solve a case for us, Pinky,” Perry said, entering the small room lined with filing cabinets and three desks, all smothered with mounds of paperwork. To the best of his memory, no one had worked in this office other than Pinky, but the extra desks had never been removed. Perry pulled the CD that he’d saved all the information he had so far on Peter out of the file folder he’d brought from home and handed it over to Pinky. “I need to know what computer our man is using to talk to the girls he’s abducted.”

  “I’ve been playing around with that already this morning.” Pinky pulled the CD out of the case and slid it into his disk drive. “I’m assuming this is the online predator case? You two going to try and nab him before the FBI come in and take over?”

  “Yes and yes,” Carl offered.

  “This should be pretty simple.” Pinky started explaining how every computer had its own specific address and left a trail that was easy to trace. “Several computers are being used. Give me a minute.”

  Perry walked around Pinky’s desk and stared at the computer while Pinky switched screens and clicked his mouse repeatedly until he found the page he wanted. Then pointing at his monitor with his long, skinny finger, he looked up at Perry and smiled.

  “Now, match these numbers up to the ones we have on file,” he said, again flipping screens. “It’s one of the computers in the ‘pit.’ Hold on; I’ve got a diagram right here. Wait. This can’t be right.”

  “What?” Perry’s headache was moving between his eyes. “Tell me.”

  “It’s your computer, Perry.”

  Chapter 19

  “Give me one solid reason why I shouldn’t pull you off this case?” John Athey’s silver streak that ran through his brown hair looked more dominant this morning. He watched Kylie with cold steel blue eyes that didn’t blink. “You’re sleeping with our primary suspect.”

  “He’s not a suspect.” She heard herself talk, knew the words coming out of her mouth weren’t enough to convince anyone she was thinking rationally. “I’ve got a meet lined up for tomorrow night. I’ll prove it to you.”

  “What you’ll do is march into that station and pull Flynn in for questioning,” John retorted.

  “I’m not going to do that.” She stared at her empty cup, willing the caffeine she’d consumed to kick in, and finally pushed away from the desk she’d been leaning on and headed toward the half-full pot of coffee sitting on the warmer in the corner of the meeting room. “If I blow my cover to the cops here in town there’s no way Peter will come out and meet me.”

  Kylie had her back to John and the police chief while she blew on her fresh cup and organized her thoughts. “Take his hard drive,” she announced, thinking her plan through as she spoke. “The one at the station and his personal computer at home. You’ll see a man
can’t be two places at once.”

  “You’re going to confiscate these from him?” the Chief asked.

  Kylie turned, seeing immediately the question was more of a challenge. “You know that isn’t possible,” she said coolly, matching Chief Radisson’s hard expression. Neither man knew she’d blown her cover with Perry. And she wouldn’t allow them to bluff any information out of her. “If you need proof that your man is innocent, you’re going to have to confiscate them yourself.”

  There wasn’t enough coffee in the pot to wake her up this morning. If she was going to pull this dinner date with a bunch of attentive teenagers off tonight in any way, she needed to head home and get in a good nap. “I’m meeting with several teenagers tonight—”

  “Flynn’s nieces,” John interrupted. “Getting cozy with his family.”

  “And tomorrow night I have a date with Peter,” she continued, ignoring John’s comment. “I’ll have your arrest for you tomorrow night. Wait and see.” She took her opportunity to head for the door.

  “If that is the case, then you really don’t need to keep this date tonight then, do you?” John asked.

  “One of the girls I’m having dinner with tonight,” Kylie began, downplaying the fact they kept referring to it as a date. She swallowed, knowing explaining Dani’s secret online boyfriend was once again breaking the confidence she swore to keep. “She’s talking to a Peter. If I can get more information out of her, it will make the arrest more solid.”

  Kylie headed out of the conference room and ignored the agents in the outer office as she headed for the door. She’d agreed to meet with John against her better judgment. She was too damn exhausted to play battle of wits right now. More than anything, all she needed was sleep.

  The last thing Kylie expected was to sleep for over four hours.

  “Crap,” she hissed, hurrying into the bathroom and shoving the shower curtain out of the way. Turning on the water, she straightened and stripped, panic washing over her at how little time she had to get ready.

  Perry would be here in an hour to pick her up and take her to his sister’s. If four hours of sleep wasn’t enough, there wasn’t any way of knowing. She made quick work of showering, drying off, and applying makeup. By the time she decided what to wear, it was almost five.

  “Maybe he’ll be late,” she decided, fingering the few pairs of earrings she had spread out on top of her dresser. A firm knock on her front door brought her heart to her throat. “Or maybe not.”

  Damn it. He was ten minutes early. Still undecided on earrings and barefoot, she marched down her hallway and yanked open her front door. “I’m almost ready,” she announced in a form of greeting, and studied Perry’s tight expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t make dinner.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment immediately washed over her, and she hated thinking it was because she’d been excited to spend the evening with him in a casual environment. It had crossed her mind she might learn more about him watching him interact with his family, seeing him in a non-work-related setting. “No problem,” she announced, switching gears quickly. “Just give me directions. I’m sure I can find it.”

  “I’m taking you over there. I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half.” His gaze traveled down her, and she caught the worry lines at the edges of his eyes. “Get your shoes on,” he told her, sounding firm.

  Kylie turned, heading down her hallway again. At least this time the middle bedroom was securely locked. Perry might know she was FBI, but that didn’t mean revealing all her work would be a good idea. The less he knew about the details of her schedule, the better. Fantasizing about him running backup for her was one thing. The truth remained the same. It would never happen.

  She grabbed the closest earrings on the top of her dresser and slid the posts into the holes in her earlobes. “Why can’t you have dinner at your sister’s?” she asked, not looking over her shoulder but knowing Perry stood in her doorway. His powerful aura wrapped around her, strong and tight, like a leather glove molding to fit and protecting her from everything around her.

  “Rad knows we’re seeing each other.”

  Earrings in place, Kylie reached for her brush as his meaning sunk in. She turned, staring into those dark green eyes and damn near drowning in them.

  “How would he have talked to you about me?” she asked carefully, her antenna of caution quickly rising.

  “If you’re asking if I blew your cover, don’t.” He pressed his fists into his waist, looking pissed. “I didn’t.”

  “Then how was I discussed?”

  “Rad had me meet him over at the FBI field office today,” he offered, his tone flat. “I met with a John Athey, and after two hours of feeling as though I was being interrogated for a goddamn crime I’m then informed I’m in charge of a meeting at the high school tonight to discuss with parents how to make sure their children aren’t talking to online predators.”

  “They interrogated you?” She didn’t have to act surprised. Honestly she believed the Chief and John had pressed her to approach Perry to get her to admit something was going on between them. Kylie moved to her closet and squatted, reaching for white cloth tennis shoes. She was going casual tonight, jeans and a white blouse. Nothing that made any statement of any kind. “What do you mean, interrogated?” she asked, turning and catching him scowling at the floor.

  His gaze was haunted, disturbed, when he raised his attention to her. “Peter is a cop, Kylie. Or do you already know that?”

  “I don’t know anything for a fact until I make an arrest,” she answered carefully, watching him. He didn’t look pissed, but his emotions were running strong. If he had spent his afternoon being interrogated, he had a damn good reason to be upset, though.

  Kylie realized then while she’d slept the afternoon away after being up all night, Perry wasn’t offered that privilege. She returned to her bed and slid her shoes on, then tied them.

  “What did they ask you?” she asked, honestly curious.

  “You didn’t know they were going to question me?” he asked, still standing in her doorway.

  Pausing with her laces wrapped around her fingers, she met his brooding gaze. Ever since meeting him she’d filled his head with lies. He studied her, waiting out her silence, and she didn’t doubt for a minute he was ready for her to feed him more untruths.

  “They told me to stay away from you because you could be a suspect,” she said, holding on to his gaze and waiting to see some kind of appreciation that she offered him the truth. When his expression remained hard, not one muscle relaxing in his tense stare, she blew out a breath, exasperated, and returned to tying her shoes. “What did they ask you?”

  “Not once have I ever been interrogated as if I was a goddamn criminal,” he growled.

  If he wanted comforting, Kylie wasn’t sure that was a good idea. A girlfriend would console, offer reassurance. Not only could Kylie not honor herself with that title, but she also didn’t have it in her to sugarcoat the situation. Perry would learn right now that she wasn’t the kind of woman who would work overtime to assure him that while he was at her side everything would be peaches and cream.

  “You said it yourself. All probability points to Peter being a cop, or at least someone who has access to computers inside your police station.”

  “The ISPs used to chat with Rita Simoli were on my fucking computer on my desk at the station,” he hissed.

  “What?” Kylie whispered, her jaw dropping while she watched a small muscle begin to pulse at the edge of his mouth. “Can anyone use that computer who isn’t a cop?”

  He swallowed and then looked away from her, pushing his large body off her doorway and slowly approaching. Kylie saw his exhaustion in his movements. For the first time since meeting her he didn’t approach her like a predator ready to attack. If anything, even with his height and broad, muscular shoulders, armed and still probably incredibly dangerous, Perry looked damn near wiped out.

  She stood, ready
when he was at arm’s distance. He pulled her to him, but not for a kiss. Instead, wrapping his arms around her, he pressed her against his rock-hard body and cradled her, as if she were the one needing consoling.

  “I’ve been ordered to stay away from you,” he told her, his rich baritone vibrating through her as he spoke quietly.

  Kylie couldn’t help chuckling. “You follow orders well.”

  “I walked out on Rad when he told me that and came straight here.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “They told me I put myself into the line of suspicion by being everywhere you were when you were waiting to meet Peter. Apparently when you talk to him on the computer, and then quit, I show up here shortly after. Although they are playing with fucking coincidences, that, and the ISP being on my computer, is putting me in a very sticky position.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” She was very comfortable being wrapped into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head while she relaxed her cheek against the side of his neck.

  “Not my problem. I’m not guilty.”

  “They didn’t pull you off the case?”

  “I didn’t give them the opportunity. I walked out.” He straightened, letting go and walking out of her room, taking his warmth with him.

  Kylie hugged herself, hating the ache he left simmering inside her. She grabbed her brush, fighting to put thoughts of fucking him later this evening out of her head, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser while doing some last-minute primping.

  She stopped in the hallway outside her door when Perry stared at the door to the middle bedroom. He looked as if he contemplated tearing the door down, or just bulldozing through it.

  “When I bring you home later,” he began with a lazy drawl, “I want you to show me these chats you’ve had with Peter.” Perry pinned her with an all-business stare, whatever emotions he almost released while holding her briefly in the bedroom now very well in check. “We’re both working the same case. There’s no reason for the two of us not to share information, not as I see it, not now that they’ve told me you’ve got the case.”