Texas Temptation

by Kathryn Brocato

  Anger surged through Remy. “I thought we settled this already. As in she doesn’t become involved any more than she already is.”

  Santorini shifted in his seat. “You’re asking for her to be the next victim.”

  “All you are is a consultant. Stay out of my case.”

  “LeBeau,” Moreno’s voice cracked like a whip.

  Remy turned to the lieutenant, clenching his fist.

  Moreno pushed onto his feet. “Luc, my detective is right. I called you in on a consult. It’s his decision whether to ask Ms. Lewis into protective custody or not.”

  “Carlos, he’s making a mistake and you know it. The longer she’s out there unprotected the easier we make it for the killer to get her.”

  With a moan, Moreno scrubbed his face. “You’re killing me, Luc.”

  “Sorry.” He looked at Remy, his eyes narrowing. “I wasn’t aware that Detective LeBeau had personally become involved with Ms. Lewis.”

  Remy swore and took a step toward Santorini.

  Moreno bolted around his desk and moved between them. “Remy, stop!”

  Clenching his jaw until his teeth ached, Remy glared at Santorini, his chest heaving. A smug expression passed over his face. The jerk got what he wanted.

  “Are you involved with Cody Lewis, LeBeau?” Moreno asked.

  “Non.”

  “Then what’s with the attitude?”

  “If the Rodeo Sweethearts killer is targeting me, Santorini’s trying to put the focus on her. I want to prevent that.” Remy jerked his arm up and backed away. “Il a pas d’eprit.”

  Moreno shook his head as he shuffled back to his desk. “You two hot heads are going to blow this case. Over a woman!” He sank into his chair. Steepling his fingers, he tapped them against his chin. “LeBeau, have you even talked to her about it?”

  “Not protective custody. I did make her aware of the danger.”

  Santorini shifted forward in his chair. “And?”

  “And, she was asked to keep someone with her.”

  Moreno nodded and dropped his hands. “Then we leave it that way. Until she seeks help, we don’t interfere.” His gaze slid to Remy. “And you’ll keep your head, or I’m yanking you from this case.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Both of you get outta my office.”

  Santorini opened the door and allowed Remy to exit first. Once he closed the door behind him, Santorini brushed past. “Deny it all you want.” He adjusted his coat. “But the more time you spend with her, the bigger the chance someone notices.”

  Remy glared at the man’s back until he disappeared into the conference room. Driving his fingers through his hair, he stalked to his desk.

  “He’s here now. I’ll patch you through.” Anderson punched a button on his phone. “Summers, line two.”

  Better be some good news. Remy lifted the receiver and hit two. “Yeah, Summers, what do you got?”

  “The results on the blood samples came back. It was too degraded to get a reading. Sorry, LeBeau, it’s a dead end.”

  “Okay. What about the partial print?”

  “Still nothing. It might not pan out.”

  “Keep trying. Do you have anything else for me?”

  Her sigh carried the weight he felt. “Sorry, no. My team is still processing the evidence from the trailer. If something comes up, I’ll call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Setting the phone on the cradle, Remy stared at it. Where was a punching bag when he needed it?

  “One day at a time, LeBeau.”

  He looked at his partner. “Some woman doesn’t have another day to live. He’s making a move.”

  “Then let’s hope he makes another mistake.”

  “I’m beginning to think he’s not making mistakes — he’s baiting us.”

  “For what?”

  Remy wasn’t certain he really wanted to know the answer.

  “Well … ” Anderson rocked back in his chair making it squeak. “I got a hit on our third victim.”

  From the pleased grin on his partner’s face, hope sparked in Remy. He slid into his chair and scooted forward. “You gonna tell me?”

  Gathering up a stack of papers, Anderson leaned across his desk to hand them off. “Her name is Joni Bricket and she’s been missing for a month.”

  Remy took the pages and spread them out on his desk. Anderson had provided the autopsy photos to compare with a missing persons flier. It was the same woman. He sighed. “And how long had Clarisa Jacobs been missing before they found her?”

  Anderson jiggled a pen against his desktop. “Two weeks.”

  “Which means he probably froze Ms. Bricket, too, before he dumped her body. He’s still following the pattern from before, except backwards and ad-libbing.”

  “He’s cast a wider net. Joni Bricket was from Oklahoma.”

  Remy frowned. “Did you find out when the last rodeo in Oklahoma was, and where?”

  “Still working on that one.”

  “Okay, I need to think.” Remy left his chair and paced the small space around his and Anderson’s desks.

  Joni Bricket was first, her body put on ice, and then Clarisa Jacobs, same MO. Heather Trisk killed the same night she was found. Each woman spaced every two weeks, as before, only two kept until last week. Remy hesitated and with hands braced on the top, leaned over his desk to glared at the line of papers. Why change up MO and freeze the bodies?

  He grabbed up the phone and dialed the ME’s office. Rick answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, Doc, LeBeau. Did you check for freezing on the Jane Doe?”

  “Actually I did. And there were indications of it. Do you have a name?”

  “Joni Bricket. She was a missing persons.”

  “Poor family. I’ll adjust my notes. By the way, do you have a copy of my autopsy?”

  Remy rifled through the papers and found the report. “Got it.”

  “The victim had a tattoo of a green rose on her right hip. The killer either didn’t know about it or missed it, because it wasn’t defaced.”

  “And that’s what Clarissa Jacobs had, and he hacked that up. Green you said?”

  “Yeah. There should be photos in the file.”

  “I’ll look. Thanks, Doc.” Remy hung up and noticed the finger wave from his partner.

  “Lacon Days Rodeo, Lacon, Oklahoma, October 17. Bricket went missing Sunday night.”

  Remy sank into his chair. “He’s way out of his comfort zone. Why kill her in Oklahoma, then dump her here?”

  “I haven’t a clue. Why deface a tattoo on one woman and not the other?”

  “Why indeed.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Boy howdy, Remy’s partner was a mule. Then again, Detective Anderson was a trail ride compared to Dad. Cody glanced over her shoulder at the truck. Dad waved her forward. This was his idea, so why didn’t he do it?

  With a huff, she stalked up the sidewalk to the condo’s front stoop. Hard to imagine Remy lived here. She imagined him more in an upscale apartment in downtown Dallas. Not cul-de-sac misery. She stared at the blue-gray door. His partner said Remy had been ordered to take the day off. Only after Anderson wrangled out of her the reason for coming here did he give up the address.

  The easy part over, she now faced the tribulation.

  She rang the doorbell and buried her hands into her coat pockets. The trees stood stark against a brilliant blue sky. Manicured lawns and precisely trimmed yew bushes showed their first signs of going dormant. The cul-de-sac was quiet, most of the owners probably at work or getting the last minute grocery items for tomorrow’s big Thanksgiving feast.

  Ready to press the doorbell again, Cody hesitated when the lock clicked. The door opened a crack and she gl
impsed Remy.

  “What the hell.” He flung the door open, grabbed her arm, and yanked her inside and slammed the door.

  She spun to face him. “Holy crap! You didn’t have to — ” She gaped. “You look like a pack of dogs chewed you up.”

  His scruff looked more than a day old. Dark shadows circled his eyes, making them appear to sink into his sockets. He wore a white Dallas PD T-shirt and faded jeans, with his bare feet peeking out from under the hems. Were those wood shavings on his shirt?

  “That tends to happen when you don’t sleep for a few days.”

  “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

  He waved her off. “How’d you find out where I lived, and what are you doing here?”

  “I know people.”

  He snorted and muttered in Cajun. Cody’s blood slowed. If he didn’t stop doing that, she might keel over.

  “And I came to ask you something.”

  He frowned. “Are you here alone?” Moving to the door, he peered through the side window.

  “Dad brought me.”

  “I don’t see him.”

  Whoa boy, this was going to be fun to explain. “He left me here and ran a quick errand.”

  Remy’s dark gaze slid her way. “What?”

  “I think he’s hoping if I stay long enough, you’ll give the right answer. And he’s pretty certain I’m safe here with you.”

  Remy went on a rant in full French Cajun and stormed past her. Rolling her eyes, Cody followed him into his living room. The bare walls screamed at her. Nothing to tell her about his family. Or his life before moving to Dallas. Not even an award of some sort. What kind of man didn’t put up one picture?

  He spun on his heel and jabbed a finger in her direction. “You’re certifiable. Both of you. There’s a sick bastard out there with a fetish for women with red hair, and you’re gallivanting all over the county.”

  “Well, sorry if Dad wanted to extend an olive branch.”

  Remy’s head snapped back, and he blinked. “What?”

  Hugging herself, Cody drew in a ragged breath and let it out slowly. “He … We wanted to invite you to have Thanksgiving dinner with us tomorrow.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s the catch?”

  “There is none. Dad didn’t figure you had any family here. And that maybe you hadn’t really celebrated it in a while.”

  “And do you want me there?”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she looked at the maroon carpet. What an odd color for a man. She swatted away the thought. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that settles it.”

  She jerked her gaze up as he headed into his kitchen. “Settles what?”

  He looked around the wall dividing the kitchen from the living area. “Everything. You made that clear the other day when you threw me out of your house.”

  “You insulted me after you pried into my life.”

  “That was for your own good.”

  “And so was throwing you out of the house.”

  He started to rummage around in his cabinets.

  Curious, Cody inched toward the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  “Being hospitable, since I’m stuck with you for who knows how long.”

  “Oh.” She pressed her body into the wall partition and watched him measure out coffee grounds. “You really haven’t been sleeping well?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “It’s why I’ve been banned from work today.” He put two more scoops in the filter. “Lieutenant thinks being home will help.”

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  Remy muttered as he poured water into the reservoir.

  “Stop being so condescending.”

  His shoulder muscles twitched. Slowly he closed the coffee maker and started it, then turned to face her. “What do you want from me, Cody?”

  To be close to her. To stay with her until this whole mess was over, and she was safe again. To kiss her senseless and make her feel alive. She wanted him to fill that void in her heart left open after her momma died. But she couldn’t tell him that. Not if she wanted to save face with him.

  Pushing off from the wall, she closed the gap between them. The coffee maker gurgled and hissed, filling the room with the rich aroma.

  Remy eyed her approach, and then crossed his arms as if to bar her from his heart.

  “For some odd reason Dad likes you.”

  “And why’s that odd?” he asked.

  “Other than JC, Dad’s been wary of the guys who’ve stepped into my life. Probably that whole dad thing with protecting his little girl from guys like him.”

  A smile played with Remy’s lips. Cody swallowed against the desert in her mouth.

  “And what do you think?” he asked.

  “I want to stay mad at you. But I think that’s what you wanted, cause you’re just as confused with this whole stupid thing as I am.”

  Remy’s arms slid to his sides. His silence unnerved her.

  “Maybe it’d be easier if I stayed mad at you. For all I know, I’m running on pure adrenaline and once it wears off, so will whatever this is.”

  He stared at her a few moments. With a shake of his head, Remy moved past her and returned to the living room.

  She turned and trailed him. “Would you say something?”

  Standing before the curtained window, he gazed out into the street. “What do you want me to say?”

  “That you’ll come to our place tomorrow. That I’m nuts. Anything. It’s better than trying to read your mind.”

  He faced her. “You’re a confounding woman.”

  “No more than you’re a confounding man.”

  The coffeemaker beeped as it sputtered the last of the brew.

  Remy approached her as if she were a skittish colt. Cody’s muscles tensed, and her heart thumped against her ribs. Inches from her, he stopped and searched her face.

  “Your mouth is going to get you into trouble one day.”

  “How do you know it already hasn’t?”

  His fingers grazed her cheek. Tremors took hold of her body. Slowly, he cupped the back of her neck and tipped her chin up with his thumb. A fire flickered in his dark eyes. He massaged a small circle on her neck near her pulse, making her eyelids flutter.

  “You’ve been a temptation from the moment you strutted into the department,” he said in husky voice.

  She forced her eyes open. “I don’t strut.”

  A corner of his mouth turned up. “Oui, cher, you do.”

  She started to protest, but he stopped her by laying claim to her lips. Against her will, her eyes drifted closed, and she returned the kiss. His firm lips melded with hers. He tasted of mint gum. Pleasure pulsed through her as his other hand snaked around her waist and pulled her to his body. Cody’s hands slid up his back, memorizing the contours and setting her fingertips to tingling. His mouth left hers and he brushed kisses along her cheek and down to her neck. She let her head lull back as he nuzzled her neck, muttering and kissing.

  Remy knew how to seduce. And she was just crazy enough to let him.

  Cody snapped her eyes open and gasped. She had to stop. This was how it started with Austin, and for all the wrong reasons.

  “Remy.”

  He lifted his head and looked at her. She struggled against him.

  “Remy, let me go, please.”

  He scowled and loosened his hold, but didn’t release her.

  Swallowing the lump, she squirmed. “We need to stop.”

  A dark look passed over his face, and he yanked his hands away as if she’d burned him. “Fine.”

  “Don’t act like that.”

  “What do you expect?”

  “For you to respect my wishes.�
��

  “And what would those be? Sure, Remy, have your way with my lips, but don’t get any ideas about anything else.”

  Molten heat surged through her. “You sound just like him.”

  “Who?” He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. “Your ex?”

  “Yes!”

  He jerked back, shock plastered on his face.

  “He pulled that same load of crap and expected me to put out. I won’t be subjected to it again.”

  Resignation fell over Remy. “I’m not him, Cody.”

  “Well, a few seconds ago you coulda fooled me.”

  He reached for her. She withdrew her arm, but he didn’t retreat. His warm grasp on her elbow was tender, and he gently tugged her toward him. Wrapping her in his arms, he kissed the top of her head.

  “I won’t force you into something you don’t want.”

  She pressed her forehead into his chest and inhaled his scent. They stood that way for a while, Cody listening to his heart and Remy rubbing his hand up and down her back.

  “I’ll come tomorrow,” he said softly.

  Lifting her head, she met his dark gaze. “You’re sure?”

  He gave her a slight nod. “Who knows, maybe some time around your clan might do me some good.”

  She smiled. “I doubt it.”

  He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  For the thousandth time, Remy wished he’d reneged on Cody’s invitation and stayed home. But the empty condo with the threat of being watched drove him out. He sighed as he mounted the porch steps. The mouthwatering aroma of turkey with stuffing drifted out the open windows. By the jovial sounds coming from inside — and the driveway full of vehicles — it was crowded.

  A few hours, then he’d take off. He knocked. A wisp of homesickness fell over him. The entire LeBeau family would be gathering about now.

  “I’ve got it.” He swept away the nostalgia as Logan swung the door open wide.

  “’Bout time, LeBeau.” His gaze dropped to Remy’s hands and the covered pie plate. “Didn’t Cody tell you not to bring anything?”

  “Mr. Lewis, my mère would have my head if she knew I came empty handed.”