by Mia Dymond
He gave her a cocky smile. “Something like that.”
Alex gave him a two-second stare then reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “Alexandria Jennings, Attorney at Law,” she said as she handed it to him. “I have a feeling you may need my services in the not too distant future.”
The quick departure of all four men didn’t surprise Dara in the least. In fact, not one of them stopped to look back as they headed to the door.
“Alex in action,” Marnie drawled.
“What kind of Neanderthal holds a table for ransom?” Alex shoved her purse at her feet while their waitress scurried over to clean the table and pocket the bills left behind.
Once their drinks arrived and they ordered lunch, Dara took the opportunity to bring Alex up to speed.
“Mace finally released my townhouse.”
“I still don’t know quite how I feel about you calling the lead detective who is investigating a murder in your home by his first name.”
Dara’s cheeks burnt at the realization of her slip.
“I’m teasing.” Alex grinned. “I already knew about that.”
“Well, did you also know that he hired a cleaning company to remove the carpet and tile?”
Her friend nodded.
“Why do you know this?”
“I’m your attorney. I’m paid to know.”
“Okay then, I can do one better. Did you also happen to know he hired a friend to install an alarm system?”
“That I didn’t know. What friend?”
“Ryker Adams.”
“Hmmm, I’ll have to check him out.”
“Detective Stewart might not appreciate that, Alex,” Marnie drawled.
“Will you stop already?! Detective Stewart and I are only professionally associated!”
“Leave her alone, Marnie,” Dara scolded. “I need her focused on my investigation.”
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dara, did I just hear you say your investigation?”
“You sure did.” Marnie was quick to join Team Alex. “We’ve already been arrested once. It’s only a matter of time before we’re locked up for good.”
She narrowed her eyes on her best friend. “Marnie’s agreed to help.”
“Listen to me, both of you. There is a crazed killer lurking around and you’re both out of your minds if you believe you can catch him.”
“Funny that you say him, I do believe a male is responsible.”
“Leave it for the police, Dara. Chasing criminals is dangerous business.”
“We’re not chasing him. We just want to identify him and we’ve made some decent progress.”
“Who exactly is we?”
“Marnie, Bri, Reagan, Annie, and me.”
“Oh damn,” Alex groaned. “I’ll never get out of Judge Bowman’s courtroom alive.”
“What on Earth are you talking about? We haven’t done anything illegal.”
“Interfering in a police investigation is obstruction of justice.”
“Nobody’s interfering in anything. I’ve just done some research.”
Alex turned her wrath on Marnie. “Is that true?”
“Am I under oath?”
“Never mind.” Alex released a heavy sigh. “Seriously Dara, let Detective Turner investigate on his own.”
“He declined my assistance,” she mumbled.
“With good reason!” Alex lifted her glass and took a long drink. “Look, I know you; you’re not one to stand on the sidelines. Just stay out of Detective Turner’s way.”
“Believe me, I prefer not to knock heads with him.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here.” Alex grabbed her purse and slung it around her shoulder as she stood. “And remember, this conversation never happened.”
Dara giggled and followed her friends to the end of the bar where the cash register rested. Chad stood behind, collecting tickets and ringing purchases.
“Hello, ladies.” He winked at Marnie. “Was everything okay with your lunch?”
“Like always.” Dara grabbed her wallet from her purse. “It’s on me today.”
“Actually, your tab’s paid.”
Marnie practically glowed when she spoke. “Thank you, Chad.”
“You’re welcome, but I didn’t comp it.”
“Really?” Dara turned and moved her gaze around the bar. “Who paid it?”
Chad shrugged. “I have no idea. Jessica said the money was left on the bar with a note written on the napkin.”
“Risky move in this crowd.” Alex frowned. “Did you save the napkin?”
“Sorry, no.”
“The Neanderthal,” Alex mumbled. “He better not try to bribe me with this.”
Dara grabbed Alex’s free hand and tugged her away from the register. “Thanks, Chad. We’ll see you Thursday.”
***
Anger boiled his blood as he turned on the bar stool and watched the three women leave from the bar like their feet were on fire. He had been presented the perfect opportunity and he had jumped on it – paying for lunch for Dara and her friends was a brilliant idea. He narrowed his eyes in irritation. She should have been grateful. She should have given him the credit. Yet, he was close enough to hear them and the women thought those idiots paid for their meal. Perhaps he should have delivered the note personally – then Dara couldn’t have mistaken his generosity. Why was she so determined to overlook him? Her resistance was becoming annoying.
The game now bored him. The end was near.
***
Mace tossed the Rogue Reviewer case file to his desk and released a hard sigh. He’d read and re-read the damn thing for days and still couldn’t come up with a viable suspect. What the hell was he missing?
He, Jackson, Jake, and now Ryker had spent hours talking to authors, agents and professionals who they thought just might lead them to something useful; however, all leads took them down a winding path to a dead end every time.
Desperate, he let his mind entertain one last option.
He sat in his chair with his elbows bent on the desk and his fingers steepled. Was it possible that Dara possessed information he didn’t? And if she did, could he convince her to share without allowing her to participate in the investigation?
Maybe he could go about it a different way.
With renewed confidence, he opened the leather case attached to his belt, removed his cell phone, and dialed. He almost slid from the chair when the soft, sultry voice tickled his ear.
“Hello?”
Just the thought of her lips wrapped around those five letters made him want to press his lips against hers – again and again. “Hello, Dara.”
“Nice to hear from you, Detective Turner. Have you called with news about the case?”
“No, actually this is a personal call.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Are you locked inside your condo with the alarm set?”
“You ordered me to do that,” she reminded him.
“So did you?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You rarely follow my instructions.”
“Because you tell me rather than ask me.”
“I’ll work on that.”
The full two-second pause told him that his comment took her by surprise and he didn’t have any trouble visualizing her beautiful green eyes narrowed in suspicion as she spoke. “Are you drinking?”
“No, I’m on duty at the station.”
“Why did you call me again?”
“To check on you. There’s still a killer out there, remember?”
“Thanks for that reminder.”
“I’m sorry. You’re just so difficult some times.”
“That keeps things interesting between us.”
“Interesting isn’t quite the adjective I had in mind,” he mumbled. More like stimulating. And as if she knew what he thought, her soft giggle traveled over the line and taunted his libido.
“I’m fine.”
“What about
Marnie?”
“She’s back to her old self. The trauma seems to have worn off.”
“Did your DRAMA group meet this week?”
“Yes, DRAMA met on Thursday, as usual. No, I will not elaborate. Nice try.”
“I’m just curious if you’ve heard anything more about Evelyn.”
“Nope, not a word.”
He paused and decided to travel a different route. “You know, there is one way I could get you to talk.”
“How?”
“I could talk dirty to you.”
He caught her slight, quick intake of breath. “Do you use that technique on many witnesses?”
“None.”
“Then what makes you think I would fall for it?”
“Because I’ve kissed you.”
Silence vibrated the line and suddenly he wondered if he hadn’t made a dire mistake. If her memory was anything compared to his, this conversation would get down and dirty at light speed. Would she cave? Or would she politely tell him to shove off?
“Yes, you have,” she answered finally. “And it was amazing.”
“Amazing?”
“Totally. I enjoyed it very much.”
He hoped his desire to hear her tease him wasn’t too evident. “Tell me how much.”
“So much that when your lips took mine, I couldn’t get enough. I wanted you to devour me.”
His cock throbbed. Their kiss had caused the same reaction in him. Once he tasted her soft, sweet lips, his incredible arousal pushed him to move his mouth from hers and glide his tongue along the smooth surface of her neck until he nipped the top of her collarbone. “What else?”
“When you gripped my hips, I fought the desire to swivel so that your fingers would slide down until they held my thighs.” She didn’t give him time to respond before she continued. “And when I felt you harden against my midsection, I wanted to reach down and tuck you into the scalding hot vee of my legs.”
“I wanted to do all of that.” His admission shot from his mouth without warning.
“If I would’ve lifted one leg and braced it against your weapon, your access would’ve been free of obstacles.”
Bound tight by his lustful stupor, it took a minute for him to realize the weapon she referenced was the gun on his hip. He swallowed hard. She was good. Real good.
“Your fingers would’ve been free to play beneath my skirt,” she continued.
He reached between his legs and squeezed his aching dick, now cursing to be released. The erotic images she painted in his mind made concentration on anything other than her delectable body totally impossible. He’d play under her skirt alright, play her soft, wet flesh like a violin until she screamed for relief.
Wait a minute.
Her light giggle only made things harder – literally. “Cat got your tongue, Detective?”
“I had other plans for this conversation.”
“I know.”
“You have to stop.”
“Oh? We haven’t even discussed what I could’ve done on my knees.”
His cock gave a painful jump and he groaned. “As much as I would thoroughly enjoy hearing about that particular talent, I can’t take it right now.”
“Okay, if you insist.” She released a soft sigh. “Are you done interrogating me?”
“C’mon Dara, toss me a bone.”
“You, Detective Turner, are way too transparent. I know you have more than enough information to continue your investigation.”
“But you claim to have evidence I don’t.”
“I didn’t confess to having evidence. I only suggested I could help with your investigation.”
“I get the feeling you have additional information.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Instinct.”
“The only way to know for sure is to let me in.”
He paused, sorely tempted to give in. Even if she didn’t have anything useful, at least he could prove to her just how difficult crime investigation could be. Then again, if she did have knowledge, she’d expect him to include her – a move that could be detrimental to both of them. “No, Dara.”
“Someday your stubbornness will get the best of you.” Her soft yawn crossed the line and he could’ve sworn he heard the rustling of sheets.
“Are you in bed?”
“Actually, yes,” she answered.
“What are you wearing?”
She released another of those cock-strangling giggles. “Goodnight, Detective.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leaning his elbows on the squad room table, Mace rubbed the edge of his jaw with one hand and fanned the stack of reports he’d read a thousand times like an accordion with the other. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t entirely focused on homicide; his thoughts wandered back to Dara and their tantalizing phone call last night. The conversation had left him partly pissed off at his failure to collect information and mostly hard as a rock. He chuckled under his breath. Her research had paid off – the little spitfire definitely knew how to manipulate conversation to her advantage. The soft, breathy tone of her voice alone made him hard. His cock stretched at the memory.
“Turner!”
He shook the fog of arousal from his brain at the sound of Jackson’s voice and slowly glanced up to see three sets of eyes focused on him like a laser. Hell. Jake and Ryker stood, arms folded over their chests, silent with eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Jackson, however, didn’t hesitate to grab the chair next to him, toss a pile of paper to the table, and voice his observation. “Must’ve been a helluva daydream.”
He shifted in his seat in an attempt to move his hard-on to a halfway comfortable position. No way could he deny his partner’s accusation – better to ignore it. “You guys find anything new?”
“Forensic locksmith report.” Jake nodded at the pages in front of Jackson as he and Ryker both sat in empty chairs across the table.
“About time. Anything substantial?”
“Don’t know. Hot off the press.”
Mace slid the stack in front of him and read. “The lock was properly disassembled. It’s a regular key-in-knob, low security pin-tumbler type lock. Each component was examined. No modifications were made to the mechanism since installation. However, several minute scratches were found, indicating that a lock picking tool was used to disengage the lock instead of a key. Such a low security lock could have been compromised with very little noise and in a matter of seconds by someone skilled in lock picking.”
“I believe it,” Ryker agreed. “Most housing organizations don’t spend a lot of money on high-tech security. The lock probably wasn’t too hard to pick.”
His heartbeat quickened. “Now we’ve got something to go on. Our perp has B&E skills.”
Jake nodded. “Does that fit anyone we’ve checked out?”
Jackson shook his head. “I don’t remember anyone with that particular set of skills, but I highly doubt anyone would volunteer that information. The only way to know for sure is to check arrest records and we have.”
Mace stood to pace, a nagging suspicion that they’d overlooked someone poking his brain. “What about newspaper employees?”
“We ran all of them,” Jake answered, “and paid close attention to anyone who had any reason to associate with the victim.”
“We need to run everyone again – authors, newspaper employees, tenants and housing association employees.” Mace squeezed the back of his chair. “Especially Owens. See if he or anyone else is connected to a locksmith or criminals busted for breaking and entering.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair and buckled his hands behind his head. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Who?”
“The super.”
“I don’t like or dislike him. He’s a suspect like anyone else until I can clear him.”
Ryker took the super’s picture from the stack. “He might have a lot more access to the housing units than we thought.�
�
“His background is clean so far.” Jake shrugged. “The tenants I interviewed all confirmed his role. No one seems to know a whole lot about him.”
“I’ll dig deeper.” Ryker tossed a grin at Mace. “And while I’m at it, I’ll warn him to stay away from your girl.”
He opened his mouth to dispute Ryker’s accusation and then abruptly closed it. His girl. Damn if he didn’t like the taste of that on his lips.
“Oh, man.” Jake shook his head. “You’ve got it bad.”
“And you don’t?” he fired back.
“I do and I am not ashamed.”
“Speaking of female influence,” he said, taking the opportunity to move the conversation back to the case, “I have a feeling your girl and my girl have information it wouldn’t hurt us to have.”
“Bri hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“Of course not.” Mace grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’re not that naïve, Jake.”
“What makes you think they know something?”
“Intuition. Bri and Dara are psychiatrists – they analyze everything.”
“Including both of you,” Ryker said without hesitation.
Mace glared. “Beside the point.” He glanced back at Jake. “Any suggestions?”
“I’ll ask but you know as well as I do, I can’t make her talk. Any headway with Dara?”
“No,” Jackson answered for him.
Although his partner spouted the truth, he felt compelled to attempt to redeem himself. “I’m working on it. I’ll drop by to see her as soon as we’re finished here.”
Ryker pulled a photograph of the housing complex from the stack and tapped it with his index finger. “This place is extremely well-kept. What about the landscaper?”
“Outside company.” Jackson rifled through several more pages. “Eddie’s.”
“Who is Eddie?”
“Older guy, employed by contract for the last three years.”
“Any connection to Dara?”
Jackson shook his head in the negative. “Didn’t even recognize her name.”
“What about Owens?”
“Said he’s seen him around but has only spoken to him a handful of times.”
