Justifiable Risk

by V. K. Powell

  As she cried, she ripped the container open, determined not to let her grief interfere with her mission. The scent of Paul’s cologne spilled from the box and she sobbed. She emptied the box on the bedspread and checked the contents against the inventory receipt: Paul’s BlackBerry, an Italian leather wallet, Rolex Submariner watch, gold St. Francis de Sales medal. But she didn’t find his compact Nikon camera. He usually kept it close for quick shots of the properties he was researching.

  Four articles and a slip of useless paper—neither the definition nor the essence of her brother’s life. She held the necklace in her palm and stared at the patron saint of writers and journalists. The face was barely visible, eroded by time and contact. Paul had worn it since early adulthood in honor of their father, and later for her. If her life had been as full as Paul’s, perhaps she wouldn’t be so cynical.

  She opened the wallet and thumbed through Paul’s collection of credit cards. Tucked behind two of them were spare camera cards. He liked to be prepared. Opposite the credit cards was a picture of the woman he’d loved since college and, under that, several family photos. We were never far from his thoughts. She clutched the necklace to her chest and wept.

  When she couldn’t cry any more, she put Paul’s necklace on and placed the other items in her bedside table. Nothing in his belongings indicated what happened to him. Later she would check his BlackBerry, but right now she ached inside and out.

  Maybe a shower would flush out some of her pain, her guilt about Constance, and the memories of this unproductive day. Fred Fluharty’s stubborn indifference to her attempts to clear Paul’s name made his death seem even more senseless. How could anyone dismiss her brother so callously? Her father had believed in persevering until he uncovered the entire story. As she turned on the shower, she thought, I will not fail.

  The stinging cold-water spray shook Fred Fluharty’s mechanical tone and inflexibility from her mind. She recalled his doubts about Paul one final time as she washed them away. Then she adjusted the tap for a warmer flow, determined again to uncover the truth about Paul’s death. No stranger knew her brother better than she did. Even though detectives dissected people’s lives as a career and discovered their flaws, they weren’t always right. She turned up the hot water and waited for the heat to consume her, envisioning Greer Ellis with a surge of sexual desire.

  Eva acknowledged the emotional ache that moved from her heart and became a physical throb between her legs. Her roller-coaster emotions over the past four months had elevated her desire for sexual interaction. What was wrong with her? Statistically, sexual activity usually declined during bereavement. Was she trying in some twisted way to honor Paul’s memory by squeezing the vitality out of every second? Or maybe she needed to prove she was still alive and capable of feeling.

  But her recent encounters hadn’t salved the wound. Maybe a loss so deep required mind-blowing sex that purged thought completely. But she couldn’t pursue her need for human contact in this small town. She had to stay on point. She brushed her hand across her tender flesh, but masturbation couldn’t appease the impulses coiled in her. She turned the cold water off and stood under the hot stream until her skin burned. When she couldn’t take the pain any longer, she closed the tap and sank to the tiled floor exhausted, as if her life spiraled down the drain too.

  Eva had no idea how long she’d crouched in the tiny shower enclosure when she became aware of heavy pounding outside her room. She pulled the terry-cloth robe around her, trudged to the door, and opened it. Greer Ellis stood outside looking roguish in a breast-hugging T-shirt, a bomber jacket, and well-worn leather pants, her thumbs hooked through her belt loops.

  “Yes?” Eva asked, confused. Her throat was raw, her eyes burned, and she could barely breathe through her nose. She remembered sliding to the tiled shower floor but nothing else. “I’m sorry. Did I forget an appointment? I have…it’s been—”

  “No. I should’ve called. I’m sorry. I’ll go.” The compassion in Greer’s eyes validated her statement.

  Eva moved aside and waved her in. “That’s okay. I’m fine.”

  Greer scanned the room like a typical cop. “Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?”

  “No, but you don’t owe me an explanation.” Pulling the robe tighter, Eva wiped her face on the sleeve. She didn’t want Greer to see her like this. She couldn’t afford to appear weak when so much was at stake. But she felt weak and needy. She shivered from the closeness of a woman who exuded confidence and was so alive with suppressed energy that she seemed to radiate warmth. Eva swayed toward Greer and stumbled forward.

  “Are you all right?” Greer’s arms slid around Eva’s waist just before she slumped to the floor. She lifted Eva easily, placed her on the bed, and sat beside her. “What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor? I can—”

  The words froze on Greer’s lips and Eva realized that her robe had fallen open. The blue of Greer’s eyes turned midnight, and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Something in Greer’s eyes told Eva that this woman could give her what she needed with no regrets and no expectations. Right now she just wanted to find out. She craved the temporary relief that pure sex provided. As the dizziness receded, she reached for Greer.

  “Don’t. I shouldn’t have come here.” Greer pulled the edges of Eva’s robe together across her naked body, then skimmed the tender skin at her waist and neckline and held the contact momentarily.

  Eva shivered. “It’s just sex. Nothing more.” But should she sleep with the only person who could possibly help with her brother’s case? Would sex help or hurt her cause? Torn, she sat up and edged closer to Greer.

  “If you weren’t, you know, business—”

  “I see.” Eva withdrew, crossing her arms over her aching breasts. “Sorry about the drama. I took a hot shower. I guess it made me light-headed.” Greer was the first woman to refuse her advances in many years. Her ego stung as urgent need pulsed between her legs.

  “No problem.” Greer rose and paced near the door like she was afraid to be near Eva. She shoved her hands in her front pockets as if to restrict any further chance of touching.

  “Why are you here, Detective?”

  “You asked if I would help you. I wanted to give you my answer, in person. You deserve that after all that’s happened.”

  At least Greer had the courage to face Eva with her decision. It would have been easier to say and do nothing. “Let me guess. You’re sorry, once again, but the answer is still no.” Eva tried to distinguish the jumble of emotions that churned inside. As if the sexual rejection wasn’t enough, now Greer added another insult.

  “JJ did a thorough investigation. And the sergeant reviewed it. We’re a small department, but we’re not amateurs. Besides, I owe them both more than my professional loyalty.”

  Eva listened to the commitment in Greer’s words and wished she understood how to earn such devotion. “Things aren’t always as they seem.”

  “And sometimes they are.” Greer opened the door. “I know you’re disappointed, but I can’t help you.”

  As the door closed behind Greer, Eva fell back on the bed in frustration. This day had been full of emotional highs and lows, and now she felt only disappointment. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed this small-town cop to see her need, even her sexual need. But Eva refused to let her momentary lapse in judgment interfere with her goal. If nobody wanted to help, she would launch her own investigation into Paul’s death. It would be easier if the police cooperated, but she wouldn’t let their stonewalling deter her.

  Eva pulled Chief Bryant’s business card out of her purse and made the phone call she had hoped wouldn’t be necessary. Perhaps a little nudge from above would produce the cooperation she needed. The chief was cordial and promised he’d handle the situation first thing in the morning. In the meantime, she had one more possible source of information.

  Eva powered up Paul’s BlackBerry and searched the recent files for a lead on the property he was rese
arching in New Hope. She retrieved a Listingbook real-estate page from Paul’s favorites, clicked it open, and read the particulars of the warehouse for sale. This had to be the reason Paul had come to town. She scribbled down the address, 247 Lewis Street, and closed the page. Next she checked his calendar and found the same address entered on the day he died. Other than a Google Maps directional file to New Hope, she found nothing else of interest. She turned the BlackBerry off, replaced it in the nightstand drawer, and rolled her aching shoulders.

  The relaxation from her earlier shower had evaporated. Her insides hummed with anger at Greer’s refusal to help and the arousal she sparked. She yearned to sleep, long and deep, but she wouldn’t be able to.

  She ripped her bathrobe open and slid her hand into the wetness between her legs. At first touch, she gasped aloud. The memory of Greer’s fingers lightly skimming her flesh filled her with heat. Those fingers would be skillful and strong, and she wanted to feel them on her and inside her so badly that the ache echoed through her body. She would have to make do with her own hands until Greer Ellis physically claimed her.

  She visualized the two of them naked astride her rumbling Harley, power from the engine and the proximity to Greer pulsing through her clit. The vibrations soaked into her nerves and muscles like a current as Eva rubbed herself faster. She cupped a breast and raked the puckering nipple with her thumbnail, imagining Greer’s teeth scraping across it.

  Pressure built inside Eva as she stroked the sides of her rigid clit, and it elongated. Wetness soaked her fingers and the inside of her thighs. She captured the pulsing length of flesh between her fingers and lowered her other hand to her opening. Replaying the feel of Greer’s hand on her again, Eva thrust her fingers inside and wailed with the rush of release that rippled through her. She bucked and quivered until she lay exhausted and drenched.

  As the last wave of orgasm subsided, Eva pictured Greer’s deep blue eyes staring down at her full of passion and the promise of much more. This self-flagellation couldn’t compare to the pleasure Greer Ellis would eventually provide, but maybe she could sleep.

  *

  Greer closed the motel room door and breathed a lungful of brisk autumn air. The coolness chilled her body, too aroused by a single, inadvertent touch. When Eva’s robe fell open, Greer had acted like a shell-shocked teenager. But her olive-skinned body was so damn gorgeous, full yet perfectly toned. She smelled of citrus and something Greer couldn’t distinguish, almost tasty. Her breasts stood erect, darker areolae puckered and waiting like a tempting chocolate treat. The curly patch of pubic hair at the V of Eva’s thighs called to Greer’s basal instincts. Fire pulsed in her veins and she nearly succumbed. But Eva Saldana would want more than she was prepared to give, physically and professionally.

  Greer could see in the depths of Eva’s chocolate brown eyes when she reached for her that Eva wanted her. For a moment, Greer had welcomed their interaction. But loyalty to her coworkers and to Clare stopped her, barely. She hadn’t experienced such a strong burst of desire since Clare died. Something about Eva Saldana was dangerous, potentially explosive. The heat and softness of Eva’s skin still burned on her fingertips. She shouldn’t have come here.

  What had she been thinking? She could have phoned. But after their introductory handshake at the station and Eva’s touch earlier at the diner, Greer had thought of little else as she careered along the back roads to Hurley.

  The first touch had surprised her, the second mesmerized her, and this last one urged her to behave unprofessionally. The ease with which Eva expressed her needs tapped on an emotional door that Greer had sealed off two years ago. And as a result, she’d nearly compromised her loyalty. She walked through the parking lot toward her Harley and vowed to stay as far away from Eva as possible. She would get discouraged soon and leave.

  “A little late-night booty call, Greer?”

  She instinctively reached for her concealed service weapon and squinted in the dim lights to make out the figure approaching her. “JJ?”

  He stepped from behind his restored canary yellow ’66 Chevy truck with his hands up. “Don’t shoot. I come in peace…or maybe I should say, I come for a piece.” He laughed at his joke and craned his neck back the way Greer had come, probably trying to determine which room she’d just left. “Anybody I know?”

  “Maybe I should ask you that question. Does Janice know you’re carousing tonight?”

  “No, and she better not hear it from you.”

  “Not mine to tell. But everybody within three counties knows your truck. Not exactly sneaking around in that thing.” They stood in silence for a few minutes, Greer pondering her next question and JJ seemingly unwilling to let her see which room he’d be visiting. “Why weren’t you in that meeting with the sergeant and Eva Saldana this morning?”

  JJ swiped his boot across a rough patch in the asphalt. “I had court.”

  “But it’s your case.” Detectives were usually included when their cases were questioned or up for review. Greer waited for JJ to respond, but decided to drop it. Eva Saldana was making her question the dedication of her coworkers, their integrity, and her own boundaries between work and play.

  “Come on, Greer, I got better things to do than talk shop on my off time. Got a little something-something waiting, if you get my drift. Let this go, partner.” He walked toward the row of rooms at the end of the lot and called over his shoulder. “And remember, not a word about this to Janice.”

  Chapter Four

  “There might’ve been an easier way, you know.”

  Eva looked up from her morning espresso and bagel into the boyish face of Jake Johnston. His normally pleasant features scrunched together in an expression of displeasure, like he smelled something foul. Every patron in the diner turned toward them, eyes wide and ears undoubtedly open for fresh gossip.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He sat down at her table uninvited. “As we say in the South, sometimes it’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.”

  Eva hoped this wasn’t a culture lesson. After her embarrassing night with Greer and the phone call she’d made afterward, she wasn’t in the mood for games. “JJ, if you have something to say, say it. It’s too early for riddles.”

  “We all heard the good news this morning. You didn’t get the answers you wanted, so you went to the chief.” He traced a finger along the back of her hand. “I’m saying we might’ve been able to work something out if you’d come to me. I can be pretty obliging.”

  She pulled her hand away as the meaning behind his words registered. “I simply need more information. The meeting with your sergeant wasted my time.”

  “Yeah, well, Fluharty can be that way. But I could probably help considerably—if you decide to come around.”

  His gaze roamed over her body and Eva cringed. He didn’t even undress her with his eyes, but went straight to leering. “Your offer is tempting,” she lied.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to ask. The sergeant will assign one of us to review the case, probably me, since it was my investigation. I can hardly wait to get better acquainted.”

  Eva finished her coffee and prepared to leave. “This isn’t a social event, JJ. It’s a very serious matter, and I’d appreciate it if you’d treat it that way.”

  “I understand. You think we’re a small-town bunch of hicks who don’t know how to do our jobs. But I worked for ten years in Boston before relocating here. I’ve seen more, been involved in more, and investigated more violent incidents than you’ll ever report. So I’m trying not to take it personally that you’ve questioned my abilities and my integrity.”

  As JJ’s voice grew louder, a waitress came out of the back of the diner and moved in their direction. JJ shot her a cautionary stare as she got closer. “Stay out of this, Janice. It’s not your business.”

  Janice Johnston stopped with her hands on her hips and returned his stare. “Well, excuse me for living. I kind of thought you were my business since you’
re my husband.”

  “This is work. Back off.”

  “Then take it to the office, not in here where everybody can hear your business.”

  From her tone, Eva surmised that JJ’s wife considered her one of his dalliances. She started to object but decided that would only create a bigger scene. Janice held his gaze with a challenge of her own before she turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Eva sat quietly for a few minutes while JJ took a couple of deep breaths. Why would any woman put up with a man she so obviously couldn’t trust and who blatantly disrespected her? And why would a cop, if he was any good, leave Boston for a small department like New Hope? Maybe she’d make a few phone calls and find out. But right now she needed his cooperation. This man knew more about her brother’s case than anyone.

  “I’m sorry to upset you. I’m not questioning your methods, only the outcome. As you point out, I don’t investigate violent crimes. You have all that experience. Would you object to walking me through the facts?”

  The corners of JJ’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’re good. I understand how you get all those tough interviews on CNN now. But our relationship won’t be like that. No animosity here, just a little quid pro quo. When the sergeant officially gives me the case later today, I’ll call you.” He stood to leave.

  “I understand but—”

  Before she could object, a group of older women, some dressed in nurses’ uniforms, approached the checkout station near Eva’s table.One of them, a tall, distinguished-looking woman with grayish blond hair and sharp blue eyes, walked over to them. “Have a problem, JJ?”

  His look would have sent a less confident person running in the opposite direction, but his tone softened noticeably. “No problem, Bessie. I was giving our visitor a friendly lesson on how we do things in the South.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” The woman’s voice teased with equal parts levity and sarcasm. “It didn’t sound too friendly from where I was sitting. How about conducting your lessons in a more private setting? The whole town doesn’t need to hear.”