by V. K. Powell
“I don’t know what that means, but it won’t be pretty if anybody finds out about this. You aren’t planning to—”
“To what? Report you to the chief, blackmail you, or write it up in the New York Times? I need your help, but I do have limits.” The thought about bedding Greer to secure her assistance skidded through her mind. As if to chastise herself, she added, “You don’t need to worry, Detective, this was just sex.”
Greer gave her a skeptical look as she stood and headed for the door. “Good. Sex I can handle. If you want anything else, I can’t help you.” With her hand on the doorknob, Greer turned back. “But thanks for this. It was…different.”
Eva couldn’t resist teasing Greer a little. “But what about my concussion and my car? We left it at the warehouse, remember?”
“I think you’re fine. I’ll drop your car off later and leave the keys under the mat.” She opened the door and came face-to-face with JJ.
His gaze shot from Greer to Eva’s naked body stretched across the bed. “I thought I smelled pussy coming from this room.”
Greer tried to step outside and take JJ with her, but he pushed his way past. Eva pulled her robe around her and sat up on the bed. She wasn’t about to let his insult or his arrogance get the better of her. “What can I do for you, Detective Johnston?”
“I could use some of what you gave her.” The strong odor of alcohol spewed from him like raw sewage.
From the corner of her eye, Eva saw Greer’s body tense and her fists clench. “We need to take this outside, JJ.” Greer reached for his arm, but he jerked away.
“I like the view in here better.” He stared at Greer with a look that made Eva fear for her safety. “Damn, that must be some good stuff if she’s already got you pussy whipped.”
Greer stood toe-to-toe with JJ and matched his angry glare. “You need to shut up right now and get out of here before one of us does something we’ll both regret.”
JJ didn’t budge. “Has she told you what she’s been doing the past couple of days? Maybe she was saving that for the pillow-talk segment of the performance.”
“I’m warning you, JJ. Being drunk isn’t an excuse for disrespect.”
“Jesus, Greer, the woman’s been bad-mouthing us all over town. She’s hit about every place on Elm Street asking questions about the department and us. It sounds like she’s trying to dig up dirt.”
Greer stood very still as though listening to what JJ was saying.
“She’s even got the newspaper going through their files to find shit. And she was asking questions about you personally. Did she tell you that before she rubbed it all over you?”
That got Greer’s attention. She turned toward Eva with slow deliberation. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Eva could see the anger in Greer’s eyes. She had agreed to be patient while Greer worked the case, but she couldn’t wait forever. The last thing she wanted was to have this conversation in front of a drunk Jake Johnston. Her chances of explaining to Greer were higher without his interference. “Maybe we could talk privately?”
“I’d advise against that, partner. It’s a slippery slope between those thighs and into that honey pot of hers.”
“One more nasty word out of your mouth and I swear I’ll hit you, JJ.”
“I’ve finished here anyway.” He looked at Eva, shook his head, and staggered toward the exit. “Now I know why you brushed me off so fast. I wasn’t the right flavor.” He opened the door, stabbed his index finger in Greer’s direction, and said, “Clare wouldn’t approve of you thinking with your clit.”
Greer bolted for the door so fast that it startled Eva. But it slammed in her face and she pounded on it with both fists. “You son of a bitch!”
Eva watched the uncharacteristic loss of control in stunned silence. This was the first time she’d seen Greer Ellis show such raw emotion. JJ knew exactly where to stick the knife to get a reaction from her. Clare was obviously Greer’s Achilles’ heel.
Eva waited until Greer stopped pounding and slumped forward. With her head against the door, she thumbed the wedding ring on her hand as if drawing strength from it. Eva walked up behind her and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She didn’t turn around.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“I should go.”
“Would you like to talk?” Eva waited, interpreting Greer’s reticence as a sign that she might actually want to share her feelings. “About Clare?”
Greer spun around and Eva stepped back to avoid being shoved away. “She’s none of your damn business. Stay out of things that don’t concern you.” Before Eva could apologize, Greer opened the door and jogged across the parking lot toward her car.
*
Greer slapped the alarm clock off the bedside table as its annoying beep rousted her from the only thirty minutes of sleep she’d gotten all night. She’d thought about JJ, this case, and Eva until they all blended together and made no sense. How had her life become so complicated in such a short time? JJ had turned into a major prick with an unknown agenda. He’d even brought Clare into his drunken tirade. He’d answer for that one. The review of the Saldana case was affecting everything in her life, and not in a good way.
And how had she gotten sexually involved with the family member of a victim? Even a rookie knew that was a no-no. She’d been attracted to Eva since the day they met. Her long wavy hair and dark eyes were like a siren call. Those luscious lips and cute dimples made it hard to concentrate. Eva’s body curved in all the right places with a tight ass and ample, suckable breasts. Being in Eva’s presence made her horny and skittish as a mustang. When Greer accidentally touched her the first time, she thought she might cry out. Eva’s skin was so silky and soft that she wanted to nuzzle against it and feel it bond to her own. It had been a long time since she responded to anyone so viscerally.
And last night when Eva appeared wearing only her bathrobe, Greer couldn’t think of anything but getting her out of it. Eva’s vulnerability tinged with assertiveness had surprised her, especially when she pulled her into an embrace that quickly led to sex. When she said, “Fuck me, then,” Greer’s clit twitched in response. The accented cadence of Eva’s voice sounded like a polite invitation instead of a cry for release. And Eva left no doubt that she only wanted sex: hard, fast, and not gentle—an outlet for her rampant emotions.
Eva’s body responded to her like blown glass to the master’s breath. She’d been desperate for contact and receptive to every manipulation. Greer fingered Eva’s long mane as passion rode her like a stallion, bareback, exciting and dangerous. The moisture and heat Eva exuded blinded Greer to anything but her thundering release. It had taken all her willpower not to scream as she came, hard and wild against Eva’s rounded ass.
But Eva had seen something Greer would’ve preferred to keep hidden. Somehow she understood that Greer needed the impersonality of taking her from behind. Once she knew she didn’t have to kiss or look at Eva, Greer’s appetites took over. She’d screwed women since Clare and knew her limitations. Sex was fine, as long as no one asked for anything more.
Maybe they could enjoy each other physically during Eva’s time here without any complications. Normally Greer wouldn’t mix business with pleasure, but this pleasure wasn’t local and couldn’t come back to haunt her. No matter how the review turned out, Eva Saldana would return to her life as a reporter.
The only possible complication—if Eva got too attached. Greer decided to talk with her and make sure they were on the same page. If they agreed on the terms and the sex didn’t totally disrupt their business dealings, she’d have an enjoyable few days with the fiery brunette. But Eva absolutely couldn’t mention Clare. She didn’t talk about her lover to anyone she fucked.
Greer rolled to the side of the bed just as her cell phone rang. “Hello.”
“Fluharty here. Get your ass in my office, and I mean now.”
Chapter
Seven
Fred Fluharty strummed his fingers on the old metal desk in his office and glared at her. The sound bounced off nearby file cabinets with an annoyingly tinny resonance. He looked tired and his clothes were wrinkled like he might’ve slept in them, again. She knew about his divorce but chose not to cross the line into his personal business unless he invited her.
“Don’t you want to know why I called you in?” he asked.
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Sweating, she tried not to blush. She hated having the sergeant call her into his office, especially when it involved personal matters. She was guilty, with no defense.
“Why did I tell you I couldn’t assign JJ to review the Saldana case? Do you even remember that conversation?”
Greer nodded without looking at him. He had done so much for her, and she repaid him by acting like a horny schoolgirl.
“I want to hear you say it.” Fluharty’s expression soured. He propped his arms on the desktop and his pudgy fingers fanned out from his hands like he was trying to resist the urge to strangle her.
“He’d try to get in Eva’s pants.”
“Right, so imagine my surprise when he woke my ass up at two in the morning, drunk, to tell me you’d taken on that task. His language was more colorful. You fucked this woman?”
She flinched at his use of the word but wasn’t sure why. That’s exactly what she’d done, but to hear the sergeant or JJ refer to it in such terms bothered her. She nodded again.
“Have you suddenly gone mute? That would definitely be a first.”
“I messed up.” She’d disappointed him, and though it probably shouldn’t have happened, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize for having sex with Eva.
“You know what I need to do.”
Taking her off the case was the right thing. She’d violated a basic rule of police work: don’t get personally involved with victims, witnesses, or family members. But she also wanted to get to the bottom of Paul Saldana’s death—for her own peace of mind, to vindicate JJ, and for Eva. Still, she struggled for a logical reason to stay on the case. Fluharty stared at her as if waiting for a rebuttal. “I got nothing, Sarge.”
“Damn it, Greer. I counted on you. I need you on this.”
“I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how I would’ve survived the last two years. After Clare—” She fought back a choking feeling in her throat. “I owe you a lot.”
“It’s not about owing. It’s about doing a job. Can you promise this won’t happen again?”
Greer finally met Fluharty’s stare. “No.”
Her answer obviously surprised him. “She means something to you?”
“I wouldn’t say that exactly. She’s different. But I won’t lie to you if I’m not sure.”
“I appreciate that. You’re a hell of a detective, and I want you to finish this, fast. Eva’s not directly involved with the case, though that’s splitting hairs. I’ll have to do some damage control with JJ—once he gets over the shock of losing a piece of ass like that to you. Sorry.”
“Why doesn’t he want me to do this review, Sarge?”
“Maybe he thinks he missed something and will be embarrassed. Maybe he’s hiding something. Maybe something in his past. Damn if I know. You two need to talk. So, you’ll try to keep it in your pants and clear this ASAP?”
“Absolutely.”
“Got anything so far?”
“I didn’t find anything in the crime-scene photos and we don’t have any forensic evidence. But Eva found an address in Paul’s BlackBerry of the warehouse he was scouting.”
Fluharty shuffled some papers on his desk but his gaze held Greer’s. “And?”
“I checked it but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But I might go back. I didn’t get through the whole thing.”
“Don’t waste your time. He didn’t die there, and the fact he’d been there probably won’t help us. Anything else?”
“Not so far, but I’ll keep you posted.”
Fluharty rose from his desk, signaling the end of their meeting.
Greer moved toward the door. “And thanks again, Sarge, for giving me this chance. I’ll try not to screw it up—literally.”
*
Eva sat in her car in front of the New Hope Tribune building convinced that after today she would understand the police department and maybe Greer Ellis better. Thirty minutes early for a meeting with Tom Merritt to review the information he’d compiled for her, she entertained herself with the navigation system by plotting escape routes from this town. But just like last night, her mind wandered to Greer.
Though the mixture of grief and hard, hot sex puzzled her, it diverted her from the other frustrations in New Hope. Greer had obviously enjoyed herself. The memory released another flood of desire. Eva had recalled Greer’s essence on her body this morning as she showered. She’d tucked her hand between her legs and relived Greer’s forceful penetration and the strength with which she possessed her. When Eva’s body had burst into orgasm with Greer’s fingers still inside her, it was perfect. And as she recalled the moment now, heat poured from her again and dampened her clothing.
Greer’s restrained whimper as she came had infused Eva with the need to hear that passion totally unleashed. Unless her radar was way off, Greer would agree to another round sometime. At least it had seemed that way until JJ showed up and acted like a complete moron. When he mentioned Clare, everything changed. Had Clare prompted that faraway look in Greer’s eyes after sex? Maybe Eva would solve that mystery also today.
Even though Greer still wasn’t firmly on her side, she’d practically hit JJ defending her honor. Surely that meant something. Eva’s father would’ve been proud. She’d masterfully used all available resources, especially Greer Ellis and Tom Merritt, to accomplish her goal. She rubbed between her thighs one final time to calm the ache that seemed a constant companion and got out of the car.
“You’re just in time.” Tom walked up from behind and linked his arm through hers. His red hair was neatly combed and he smelled of too much cologne. “Shall we get to work?”
“Definitely.” She played along, snuggling a bit closer than necessary.
Tom commandeered a small room that looked more like a hallway. The absence of windows made it a bit claustrophobic, and the old wooden walls still reeked of cigarette smoke, scorched coffee, and the mustiness of long-stored paper. File folders covered a round table in the center, where Tom motioned for her to sit.
“You want some coffee or something?”
“No, I’m already buzzing, but thanks.”
He joined her at the table and pointed to the stacks of files. “I searched our databases back ten years. That’s how long Fred Fluharty has supervised the homicide squad. None of the detectives in the unit has been there that long. Jake’s got the most seniority with eight years. I didn’t find much of interest. We don’t have many high-profile cases. They’re mostly open-and-shut drug killings.”
Eva looked at the files on the table, confused. “Then what are these thirty or more folders?”
“Most of them pertain to one case, but I’ll get to that in a minute. The small stuff first.” He reached for the file closest to him. “Someone killed the son of the chancellor of our most prestigious college four years ago in a home invasion. Jake Johnston handled the investigation. It turned out the boy was dealing drugs and wanted a bigger cut, but his supplier took offense. Case closed. No problems with the investigation other than the parents’ denial. Jake eventually found the boy’s notebook where he’d logged every transaction over a two-year period. The parents quieted down after that.”
“What’s next?”
Tom threw that file on the floor and picked up several at once. He fanned through them as he called out their contents. “Three prostitutes knifed by pimps; four ex-lovers, various modes of death; six drug shootouts over product; numerous suicides, mostly pills; and a few accidental overdoses.”
Eva flinched at the last on
e. She’d read the Tribune article on Paul’s death—a small blurb on the last page. The account was condensed to fit neatly in the Law Enforcement section. The caption read, OUT-OF-TOWN MAN FOUND DEAD. Her insides recoiled at the unspectacular announcement.
“Was anything unusual about these cases or how they were handled?” She needed to concentrate on work before her emotions took over.
“Nope.” Tom paused and looked at her with sympathetic eyes, like he was unsure if he should proceed.
“What? Go on.”
“I’m sorry about your brother. I meant to say that the other day, but I was a little surprised to see you in person. From what I could tell, his cause of death looked pretty definitive.”
“Appearances can be deceiving, Tom. You should know better than to take anything at face value. People who didn’t know Paul could easily categorize him as another accidental overdose and move on. I can assure you he didn’t die that way. I don’t have proof yet, but I won’t stop until I do.”
Tom straightened in his chair and returned his attention to the single file still in his hand. “And then we come to this one.”
Eva’s heartbeat increased as she sensed something important, finally. “Tell me.”
“Not a homicide, but an ongoing drug investigation in this area for over three years. I wouldn’t have pulled the file, but Greer and Derrick Bastille’s names flagged it. He worked undercover with DEA for a while and she helped track down the main supplier. They eventually got enough information to secure a warrant on the guy, Johnny Young.”
“What’s significant besides Greer and Bastille?” Sometimes reporters were awful drama queens. Their livelihood depended on hooking readers quickly and keeping them interested.
“Wait for it.” He grinned and his fair-skinned face turned a light shade of pink. “The investigation is ongoing because every time the police get close to the head man, he gets killed and another one takes his place. The last one was Mr. Young, two years ago, which leads us to this case.” He placed his hand on the bulky file on the table. “It’s the town’s only double homicide.”
