by Cynthia Eden
“That’d be Mrs. Kathleen Briar,” Luke murmured.
Kathleen’s hair had come loose from one of those fancy twists that Sam had never been able to manage.
Cops flanked the woman on either side. One, an older guy with graying hair at his temples, was reading the woman her rights. “If you can’t afford—”
“I can afford a fucking attorney. I just don’t want one right now!” Kathleen’s voice rose to a screech.
“She called it in about an hour ago,” Luke said quietly, and Sam heard the hint of a drawl beneath his words. He strode forward and came to her side.
Luke was still the newest agent in the SSD. He’d transferred up from Atlanta and had immediately paired up with the unit’s top profiler, Monica Davenport. “From the looks of things,” he continued, motioning toward the bar, “Mrs. Briar had a gin before making that call.”
“She killed him?” Sam shook her head. Okay, she hadn’t expected that.
The cop kept reading the Miranda rights to his perp. “Anything you say or do can be held…”
“She told the 9-1-1 operator that she shot her husband.” Luke crossed his arms and watched the procession. Kathleen and her guards were almost at the study door now. Almost…
Kathleen stopped to glare at Sam and Luke. “I’m not sorry.”
Luke lifted one shoulder. “Never said you were, ma’am.” His voice was cool. Odd, because of all the agents, he was the one who always seemed the most intense. The one who seemed to care too much.
Maybe he’d been hanging around with Monica and Hyde too long.
Kathleen’s eyes were bone dry. No tears for her. “Jeremy was mine. That asshole should have told me about the call. He should have—” She broke off and shook her head. “Jeremy would be alive. Alive.”
Now her husband and son were both dead, and there was fury glittering in her green eyes.
“He cheated on me,” Kathleen admitted in a stark voice. The cops beside her were silent, their own eyes wide. “He bought houses for those sluts that cost more than my son’s ransom.” She swallowed. “He let Jeremy die. I can still see him, cut up. My baby…” Her eyes closed.
Luke watched her with a somber stare, then he caught the gaze of the older cop. “Take her outside.”
This kill would be the local PD’s show, not a case for the SSD, but the cops were still looking to Luke for guidance.
The cop nodded and reached for the cuffs on his hip.
“No.” Luke shook his head. “Just put her in the back of the squad car.”
Kathleen’s lashes lifted, and the fury had vanished. That fast. She blinked and just looked… lost. “Jeremy’s gone.”
Sam swallowed. So was Morgan. “Mrs. Briar, I really think you should reconsider that attorney.”
Another slow, almost confused blink. “My baby…”
The cops took Kathleen’s arms and guided her down the long, winding hallway. Her heels clicked on the tiles.
“I never expected her to react like this,” Luke said.
Sam’s gaze shot to Luke. He ran a fast hand through his hair. “Shit. She seemed so controlled earlier today.”
Because the woman had been in shock.
“I should have brought Monica to the scene.” He eased into the hallway. “She would have seen the signs. I should have seen them.”
Monica could look at a killer and see the darkest parts of his mind, but when it came to the victims… “She might not have seen it either.” The words came out harder than she’d intended.
One of Luke’s blond brows shot up.
Sam cleared her throat. Yes, that had sounded wrong, but lately, Monica made her nervous. Very nervous. She was worried that Monica might look too close and see—
Broken.
“Why am I here?” Sam asked him, leaving the study and the body and finally feeling like she could breathe again. “Hyde said—”
“I’m lead on this case.” Authority pushed through the flat words.
She inclined her head in agreement. “But we both know that when it comes to the SSD, Hyde calls the shots.” Sam really didn’t think Luke wanted to get into a pissing match with the big boss. “Hyde said for me to stay away.”
They walked down the hallway. No staff members appeared. In a place this big, she’d expected a maid or—someone. But maybe Kathleen Briar had sent the help away, right before she shot her husband in the head at point-blank range.
“Hyde said to stay away, but here you are,” Luke pointed out. “Guess you couldn’t stay away from the case, could you?”
She glanced over and found his eyes on her, weighing her. “You called me.” And she’d jumped at his call.
“Monica wants me to use you on this case.”
Sam couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d punched her. Monica and Hyde usually agreed on everything.
“She says you need the case.”
Her chin lifted. “I do.” She could work this case.
“But tell me, Sam, what will you do when the danger is right in front of you?”
Her tongue swiped across her lips. Are you ready to die? Beg… go on, beg… That bastard’s voice always seemed to be in her head.
“Hyde thinks you’ll crack,” Luke said bluntly. “He let you out on a test run before, but he doesn’t believe you’re ready.”
Luke had led her away from the other investigators. Maybe he was trying to save her pride by talking to her in private. Like she had a lot of pride left.
“I’m ready.” She injected steel in her voice.
“Maybe.”
Sam held his stare and refused to back down.
He exhaled on a sigh. “I like you, Sam. You got one messed-up deal on the Watchman case.”
Don’t flinch. Don’t.
“But I can’t have you screwing up my case.” Soft but brutal.
And not unexpected. For the SSD, the case came first.
Luke waited a beat and then said, “I have to be able to trust that you can do your job.”
In their division, trust was key. You trusted your teammates. You knew that they had your back.
His lips tightened, and then Luke said, “I know about the panic attack in Virginia.”
She flinched. What? No, no, she’d retreated to an abandoned office. No one had—
“Two uniforms saw you. They reported to Hyde and that’s why he yanked you off field work as soon as you returned to D.C.”
Her breath came too fast, too hard. “I haven’t had another attack in weeks. The department shrink gave me the all clear.” Didn’t that fact matter to anyone?
“And I’m giving you a chance.” His head cocked to the right. “Prove Hyde wrong. Show him the steel inside, the steel that kept you alive when the Watchman wanted you to break.”
I did break. I broke, and I begged.
“But if there are signs you’re starting to falter, if I don’t think you’re strong enough to handle the work…”
He didn’t have to finish. She knew. “You’ll pull me off the case.” Then it would be two failures for her, and she could kiss her career at the SSD good-bye.
Luke’s head inclined in a grim nod.
Well, at least she knew where she stood with him. And she knew that she owed Monica a hell of a lot.
“Now go and take over the scanning of all the computer equipment the techs confiscated,” he ordered. “As of now, you are officially on the case. Hell, no one can hack into a system like you can. The guys Hyde had running the systems can’t even hope to compete with you.”
No, they couldn’t, but when the big boss gave an order, people listened. He’d wanted her to back off and only provide support to the new tech guys, so she had. But now…
“I want to find out every detail there is to know about Jeremy Briar’s life and his family,” Luke said, “Every damn detail.”
Once she got back to the office, she’d dig deep into their financials and make sure that there wasn’t anyone in the family who would benefit from that ra
nsom money. Maybe there was a relative desperate for cash. Maybe a cousin had hit rock bottom. When money was involved, family members often turned on each other—and they could be vicious.
Sometimes, these crimes could hit too close to home.
Getting access to the bank records was easy. Impersonal. Going into the family’s private e-mails and wading through their Internet sites would be much more intimate.
“The media will go crazy with this one,” Luke warned. “The Briars are always big news in this part of the country, but with both the son and the husband dead, it’s going to be a circus.”
So far, the media hadn’t made the full connection between the kidnappings. The two men who’d been returned alive had been ushered out of the country by their parents. And then any suspicions from the press—well, they had been hushed up by the power of old money.
As for the other man, Peter Hollings, the one who’d been sent back to his parents in pieces after they used marked bills to pay his ransom…
His family had all but erased their son’s life. The rest of the world believed Peter had died in a car accident. Money had a way of re-writing history.
“What will the kidnappers do when they make the news?” Sam asked. Some killers craved attention. The pyro that the SSD had tracked in Virginia had been desperate for his fifteen minutes of fame.
Luke’s gaze met hers. “At first, it sure looked like they wanted their kidnappings kept quiet.” They—Hyde was convinced they were looking for a team of abductors. “But the way Jeremy Briar’s body was spread out, I think these perps want some attention now.”
So the press would soon be fueling the flames for them.
“They were sending a message,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.
“To the next family.” Luke agreed grimly. “Telling them that this is what happens when you don’t pay.”
• • •
Max wasn’t asleep when the knock sounded at his door. It was close to three a.m., but he wasn’t asleep.
He was thinking about her. Still feeling Samantha against his skin, and when the knock reached his ears, he immediately headed for the door.
I’ll find you.
Max pulled open the door without bothering to look out the peephole.
Samantha.
She stood in the well-lit hallway, but she wasn’t the femme fatale of hours before. No sexy dress. No flash of cleavage.
Instead she wore simple black pants and a black shirt. The color just made her skin look paler. And she looked lost.
“You should really have better security in a place like this,” she said, in that smooth voice he loved. No accent, just softness and sex. “It was too easy to get inside.”
“I left orders that the doorman was to let you up.” He’d spent ten minutes giving Charlie a description of her.
When her eyes widened a bit, Max knew that he’d caught her by surprise. Good. She’d sure surprised him that first night.
I don’t want love. I don’t want promises of forever. I just want you. Now.
How was he supposed to turn that down?
Samantha rocked back on her heels. “There should be an electronic security system in place. You should see everyone before they—” She stopped and shook her head.
There were shadows under her eyes. Dark circles that hadn’t been there earlier on the balcony. “Samantha?” They were little better than strangers, but something was there between them. Connecting them.
She hesitated then said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Didn’t get more stark or brutally honest than that. His cock swelled as arousal spiked through him. He could still taste her.
Her lashes lifted. “Do you want to be alone?” Her eyes widened. “Wait—you might not be—are you alone?”
Max took her hand and hauled her inside. “Not anymore.” He slammed the door shut, and his mouth crashed down on hers.
Samantha’s lush lips parted immediately for him. Her tongue swept against his, rubbing, teasing, and the light strokes seemed to go straight to his cock.
Her hands were on him, feathering over his bare chest. So hot and soft. He loved her hands. Loved them more when they were wrapped around his cock and pumping hard and fast.
Screw everything but… her. No, screw her. Take her.
She sucked his lower lip. Drew it into her mouth and sucked, and Max’s heart ripped through his chest. Why? Why did she affect him so much?
He’d been with his share of lovers. He shouldn’t—
Samantha shoved away from him.
“What are you—”
She lowered to her knees before him. “My turn.” Her hands jerked down his jogging pants, and her mouth, sweet fuck, her mouth closed over the tip of his erection.
“Samantha.”
Her palm curled around the base of his shaft, and she leaned in toward him, taking a few more inches of erect flesh, sucking strong and tight with her mouth.
His hands sank into her hair.
She swallowed. Took more.
Her mouth moved faster. Sliding along his skin, taking him deeper as her tongue licked and learned his flesh. Deeper. More.
Max positioned her head and thrust against that hot mouth. His balls tightened, his spine tingled, and his climax bore down on him. Building, building, so close that his balls ached.
Her hands flew up, and she pulled free of his grasp in an instant. Her breath panted out. “Not yet,” she whispered.
Staring up at him, licking her lips, she yanked off her shirt and tossed it on the floor. She had on a plain white bra, but her breasts pushed against the cups, and she made the garment look damn sexy.
She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her pants. Then Samantha pulled out a small packet from her back pocket.
The woman was prepared. Her fingers tore open the foil, and she smoothed the condom over his throbbing flesh.
Samantha rose before him, her body brushing against his, every smooth inch driving him insane.
Her fingers caught the waistband of her panties, then shoved them down. “Now,” she told him, that voice enveloping him.
Like he had to be told twice.
Max lifted her against him. Her legs wrapped around him. Long, supple legs. Her sex, creamy and plump, brushed against his cock.
He took two steps and pushed her back against the wall. Max braced her and thrust deep into her sex.
Christ, he was so close to exploding. His climax bore down on him, and he thrust fast, deep, hard, driving into her as the fury rode him.
Her hips were tilted down, and every glide of his cock swept over her clit. She moaned, thrashing beneath him, and arching her hips as she fought for her release.
Faster. Faster. Deeper. Her whispered demands.
Her nails dug into his ass as she urged him on. There, there was the woman from the first night. The woman who liked the sex wild and who didn’t stop until she’d come.
Over and over.
Her sex convulsed around him. Hard, gripping contractions that worked his erection so damn well. Yes.
Max eased out of her, then plunged balls-deep. He came, growling her name, and holding her in a grip that he knew had to bruise.
Holding her. Keeping her locked tightly to him, because this time, he wouldn’t let her get away.
The scream woke Max later. A sound of terror so absolute that Max awoke with fear squeezing his own heart. He jerked up in bed and shoved the covers back.
Samantha thrashed in the bed, her pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Her hands were up in the air, pushing out, fighting nothing, and she was choking, gasping, struggling to breathe.
“D-don’t… p-put me b-back… in…”
What the fuck?
He hit the lamp switch hard, and light flooded the room. “Samantha.”
Her back arched but her eyes stayed closed. “D-don’t…”
Max grabbed her arms and pulled her up against his chest. “Samantha!”
Her lashes
flew open. “Kill… me.”
His eyes widened. What?
And he realized that her eyes were blank. The pupils were dilated and fixed and staring at a nightmare that he couldn’t see.
Her breath rattled in her chest. Holy shit, she seemed to be suffocating!
Max pressed his lips tightly against hers. Then he breathed into her mouth. A long, deep expulsion of air.
Her hands came up against his shoulders, and she shoved him back, once again surprising him with her strength.
“Wh-what’s happening?” Not the frightened voice from before.
Samantha. She was back.
But her eyes were still blank. So was her face.
He didn’t let her go. His grip grew even tighter. Hold her. Keep her safe.
Max expelled a slow breath. “Everything’s okay, Samantha.”
The sound of her swallow was too loud in the quiet room. “What did I do?” She asked, her voice stronger now.
He tried to smile, a hard feat when his heart shoved against his ribs and tension ate at his gut. “I think you just had a bad dream. We all have them.”
Her skin was cool beneath his hands, and her muscles were tense. Samantha blinked at him, then narrowed her eyes a bit. “We all have them.” Her echo was toneless.
His right hand rose and cupped her shoulder. “Want to talk about it?” It was so hard to keep his voice light and calm. Want to tell me why you dream about begging someone not to kill you?
“I don’t remember anything.” Her lips twisted. “I never remember my nightmares.” A pause. “That’s a good thing, right?”
He stared down at her, noting the soft curves of her cheeks and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her jaw was set, that slightly pointed chin up, and her thick hair was a tousled mane around her face.
Sexy.
She’d been that way from the beginning.
But now, there was something different. A tension around her full lips. Shadows in her eyes.
And her nails dug into his shoulders. Not with passion this time. With fear.
“For a minute there, you seemed to stop breathing.” As far as he was concerned, that qualified as being way past just a nightmare. “You looked like you were fighting to get air.”
