The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  Her intuition acted up again, telling her he wasn’t the one, but she didn’t trust that voice. It was too wrapped up in emotion, it was her heart talking, not her common sense. Tears stung her throat and she blinked them back. “Please.”

  He turned toward her. “Please, what?” He spread his hands. “What Carolyn? What could you possibly say to me?” His eyes were hard, masking the hurt behind them.

  “The evidence…”

  “I don’t give a damn about the evidence. If you loved me, you would believe me.”

  Carolyn laughed as her own anger sparked. “I’ve prosecuted on less! And don’t you give me that line.” She pointed her finger at him, jabbing it into his chest. “My loving you doesn’t matter. What matters is reasonable doubt and right now that’s a pretty far stretch.”

  * * * *

  Did she just…

  Randy stepped back, staring at her. It was the first time she admitted to loving him, albeit a sideways slant, but it diffused some of his anger, enough for him to realize he didn’t want her to go. Not yet, not with this wedged between them.

  “Did you just say you loved me?” He stepped closer, towering over her.

  She blinked and tilted her heart shaped face up to meet his gaze. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he slammed her into the wall and crushed his mouth to hers, ignoring the twinge of pain from his split lip.

  Carolyn didn’t resist, instead she melted into him, stoking the intense heat building in his pants. Passion ignited and Randy wrapped his arms around her, maneuvering them back into his apartment, without breaking the kiss. The moment the front door closed behind them, the trail of clothing followed to the bedroom.

  He took her with a combination of anger and desperation mixed with a desire so strong it unraveled his defenses. She met his frantic pace, spinning him over and riding him into release, and then collapsing on him, her hair fanning out over his chest.

  Randy held her close, stroking her silky hair. He inhaled, taking in the exotic scent of her that reminded him of coconut suntan lotion and the warm sandy beaches of the Caribbean. He closed his eyes and put himself in her shoes, going over the accusations she made. He couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t a far stretch, especially with the absence of an alibi, but it still stung. When she raised her head off his chest, he met her gaze.

  “I thought it was over.” She cracked a smile.

  “If you hadn’t slipped, we wouldn’t be in bed right now,” Randy said. “I would have taken you home and written you off.” He sighed and looked at the ceiling. “At least until I had some time to think on it.”

  * * * *

  Carolyn studied his face and sighed. Intuition won out. Randy Kincaid was not capable of cold-blooded murder. “Tell me about your family.”

  Randy rolled her off him and stood, dressing in silence. “I hadn’t spoken to my family in years.” He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her but his emotions played out across her nerve endings, more so than his closed thoughts. Raw, like an open wound doused with alcohol.

  She waited.

  He shifted, turning toward her. “One of my clients has wanted to buy the business for years and my family was never willing to discuss the possibility.” He bit his lip. “I ended up buying my sister’s shares this summer. I kind of coerced her into it so I’d have fifty percent of the company.” He studied his hands, picking a stray hangnail. “Last month I sold the shares to my client in a private sale at a hell of a profit. He already owned some shares and the combination of mine and his gave him control of the company.” Bringing his gaze back to Carolyn’s, he finished, “needless to say, my family is pissed.”

  Her mind was reeling. The words private sale, corporate takeover and huge profit only pointed to one thing. “Insider information?”

  “It’s not a publicly held company, so insider information doesn’t apply.” He shrugged. “Was it illegal? No. But buying my sister’s shares was in the realm of unethical.” He closed his eyes. “I knew my client was looking to take the business over when I bought her out and yeah, I had every intention of selling them if the price was right.”

  “Was it worth it?” Carolyn sat up, pulling the sheet around her.

  Randy looked out the window. “Financially, I’m set, especially with my knack for investing, so if I didn’t want to work, I wouldn’t have to.”

  “But your family?”

  “The business was killing my family and I couldn’t stand to see another one of them die.” He shifted, propping himself up in the bed. “If my office finds out, they’ll fire me.” He glanced down at her. “I’ve been formally disowned…”

  “What’d you expect?” she asked avoiding his eyes.

  “I don’t know, maybe my father could relax and enjoy life instead of working himself to death.” He raised and lowered his shoulders and kissed the top of her head in a manner that played with her heartstrings.

  Carolyn reached out, grazing the black and blue skin under his eye.

  Randy smiled. “My brother has a hell of a right hook. I met him in the warehouse and he beat the shit out of me.” He touched the tender skin surrounding his eye. “This one knocked me into the scrap trough and that’s why I was covered in blood. I walked home hoping the rain would clean most of it off.” He hung his head. “And my banner of a night ended with you accusing me of being the Scarlet Psychopath.” Standing, he crossed to the window, looking down at the Statue of Liberty in the harbor below. “I can’t say I blame you, either. Looking at it from your point of view is pretty damning.” He glanced back at her. “I’m not a killer and the accusation hurts like a bitch.”

  Chapter 22

  Carolyn stepped into her apartment a little before nine, her body aching with exhaustion. She and Randy talked most of the night, hammering out their frustrations and the fatigue was just beginning to set in.

  Their conversation helped mend the frayed bond between them but she wondered if it would hold, especially since she wasn’t ready to enter into the type commitment he wanted. The subway ride and the crisp morning air gave her the distance she needed to assess their relationship. She finally admitted to herself that she loved the man, but was that enough?

  She sighed, knowing the answers weren’t going to surface this morning, not without a hot shower and an entire carafe of coffee. She opted for the shower before coffee.

  Clean and slightly refreshed, Carolyn headed for the kitchen by way of the living room. Olivia stretched on the couch with a wide yawn. “How’d your night go?”

  “It was long and grueling. We had a bit of a disagreement,” she said without going into the particulars.

  “Did you make up?”

  Carolyn nodded. “For the most part.”

  “Was the boy pressuring you?”

  “Just let it go, for now. I’m not in any condition to rehash the issues. Maybe after I’ve had some caffeine. Besides, I’d rather focus on something happier. Tell me more about your artist friend. What’s his name again?”

  “Damon.” Olivia looked at her watch and stood. “I need to get ready; he’s expecting me at noon.” She disappeared, leaving Carolyn alone in the living room with the newspaper spread out on the coffee table.

  The headline caught Carolyn’s attention. It was a police artist’s sketch of the Scarlet Psychopath. The ominous hooded coat, much like the football slicker Randy left the apartment wearing, was outlined on the front page alongside a picture of the latest victim.

  Carolyn sat down hard, biting her lip. Doubt crept in like a cat on the prowl, slinking just under the surface of her skin. Was he their city’s deadly stalker? No answer came to her in the light of day, no little voice denying the possibility and Carolyn shivered, wrapping the throw blanket over her shoulders tightly.

  Chapter 23

  Damon Andropolis opened the door, raising an eyebrow at her presence next to Olivia. “You brought a friend?” He flashed a set of neon white teeth that contrasted with the deep tones of his Greek heritage. His h
aunting green eyes followed Carolyn as he swung the door open, waving them inside.

  Olivia was right; Damon was a feast for the eyes from the thick curls of his unruly hair down to the obviously manicured toenails of his bare feet. Muscles rippled under his skintight jeans and the unbuttoned dress shirt casually hanging off his shoulders revealed a chiseled smooth chest. His hands, poking out from rolled up sleeves, revealed the signs of an artist, a conglomeration of bright and dark paint splattered against the lines of his fingers. Carolyn offered a smile as she stepped inside behind Olivia.

  Damon studied Carolyn before swiveling his eyes to Olivia. “I will have to set up time to paint your friend here,” he said and took Olivia’s elbow, leading her into the studio. He posed Olivia, standing, holding onto a false balcony with a fan gently billowing her silk dress behind her, creating interesting ripples in the fabric. Adjusting the lighting to give the illusion of sunset, he tilted her head slightly and stepped back. “There.” He nodded and headed to the camera next to the easel, snapping the shot before he stepped behind the canvas and began his creation.

  Carolyn sat quietly on the bench near the door, staring at him as he painted. Every now and then she glanced at Olivia, who, amazingly, in the span of three hours did not move a muscle.

  Damon glanced at his watch when Carolyn shifted on the bench. “It’s time for a break,” he announced, setting the brushes down on the table. Stepping back, he scanned what he had on the canvas and nodded, turning away as Olivia stretched, relaxing her muscles.

  “Can I get you two a bite to eat?” His gaze lingered on Carolyn before traveling back to Olivia.

  “I’d love something.” Olivia announced.

  Carolyn shrugged. “Sure,” she said and followed him out of the studio into a little efficiency apartment. He pulled a platter of cheese and fruit out of the refrigerator and laid out a tray of crackers next to it before cracking open a chilled bottle of white wine. She looked at the spread and then between Olivia and Damon. “I feel like I’m intruding.”

  “Nonsense!” Damon poured the two glasses of wine, handing one to Olivia and one to Carolyn. “I am pleased Olivia brought another beautiful woman with her.”

  Carolyn smiled at the hint of an accent. “How long have you been in the states?”

  “Most of my life. I have dual citizenship. My mother was American and my father is Greek.” He spread his arms out. “And here I am.”

  “How long have you been in New York City?”

  Damon poured another glass and took a sip. “Just a couple of weeks. I came from Paris and before that, Milan, running the fashion circuit.” He waved at the cameras lined up along the bookshelves. “It was time to take a break and get back to my first love, painting. I haven’t been in the city in years and thought it was the perfect inspiration.”

  Carolyn’s eyebrows creased. “I thought you were here doing a photo shoot.”

  The laugh that came from his throat made her smile. “Ah, yes, I wouldn’t have met Olivia if it weren’t for that photo shoot.” He ran the back of his finger down Olivia’s arm. “And I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.” He turned his gaze toward Carolyn. “I must paint you.” He lifted her chin, turning her head this way and that as he studied her.

  His touch sparked both heat and unease in Carolyn.

  “What do you do, love?” he asked, running his fingers along the angle of her jaw before pulling his hand away.

  “I’m an assistant district attorney for the city.”

  His eyebrows curved upwards. “Beautiful and smart, what a powerful aphrodisiac.”

  Olivia cleared her throat, gaining his attention.

  “Are you ready to get back to work?”

  “Yes.” Olivia said, shooting Carolyn a questionable look.

  “I’m going to get out of your hair,” Carolyn said.

  Damon reached into his pocket, producing his card. “Please call to set up an appointment. I’d love to capture you on canvas.”

  Carolyn took the card tentatively and turned to leave, feeling his eyes blazing a trail from her shoulder blades down to her ass. The sensation of his tongue dragging across her skin engulfed Carolyn and she hurried out the door.

  Chapter 24

  Carolyn ran her hand along the wooden door and hesitated before rapping lightly with her knuckles.

  The door swung open. “I thought you were with Olivia today?”

  “I was, but watching someone paint a portrait is as exciting as watching golf on television,” she said and stepped into Randy’s apartment. “So, it was either here or the office.”

  Randy closed the door behind her. “You skipped Macy’s?”

  Carolyn rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes.”

  Randy took a seat on the couch and muted the college ball game he was watching. “I won out over the office.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Carolyn peeled off her coat and took a seat next to him, folding her leg under her so she could face him. She started to speak and stopped, looking at her hands.

  “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

  “Randy, did you kill those women?”

  His face turned beet red. “No.” He kept eye contact with Carolyn.

  Carolyn nodded, this time she believed him. “I want to move in with you.”

  Randy moved back in the chair trying to catch up with her train of thought.

  “I know, I’m coming at you from different angles and you’re confused, but I had to ask, had to see you answer the question.”

  “How did you get from asking me if I’m a murderer to agreeing to move in with me?” His color returned to normal, but the confusion in his eyes persisted.

  “I can tell on direct questioning whether someone is lying or not.”

  His eyebrows rose. “And last night?”

  “I’ve been turning things over in my head all morning and I never asked you last night. I asked where you were, and everything in between, but I never outright asked you. I needed to know without a shadow of a doubt.”

  “This isn’t a court of law Carolyn.” Randy stood and grabbed his empty beer off the table, disappearing into the kitchen. He grabbed another beer and stood in the doorway, his thumb hooked into the front pocket of his jeans as he took a long pull on the beer. “I don’t appreciate being treated like a defendant.” He took another swig of his beer.

  Open hostility radiated off Randy, taking Carolyn by surprise and turning the coffee in her stomach into a lead sludge ball. Her temper woke from within and she stood, slamming her arms into her coat sleeves like they were the path to a punching bag. “You know, I don’t need this.” She crossed to the door and laid her hand on the knob, glancing over her shoulder at him.

  He raised the beer, his jaw line tight and lips pressed together. The fire in his eyes gave her pause. To her surprise, her vision blurred with tears and she swung the door open.

  “If you walk out that door, don’t bother ever calling me again.”

  Carolyn stood, crippled by indecision. Her pride demanded she walk out, good riddance, she deserved so much better, but she was unable to take that first step. Not with Jim’s question echoing in her ears. Can you see your life without him? She hung her head, still holding the door open when his hand landed on her shoulder.

  Carolyn turned, meeting his still-angry gaze, but at least he was by her side. Slowly, she closed the door.

  “I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to move in right now.”

  “Why?”

  Randy’s lips curved into a small tight smile. “I’m pissed at you. That’s why.”

  She looked at his bare feet, unsure of what to do next. In past relationships, she never got to this point. The first argument was usually the last and even though she and Randy had been occasionally bitchy with each other over the last year and a half, they had never truly argued until this week. “So what do we do?” She met his hard gaze.

  Randy shrugged, and his intention of building up the
barrier around his heart, putting emotional distance between them so next time it wouldn’t hurt quite so much, came through more in his stance than his thinly guarded thoughts. “I don’t know.”

  “I might as well leave if you plan on shutting me out.” She turned toward the door again.

  “God damn it!” The beer went flying across the room, shattering on the far wall. He turned back, crowding her against the door. “I didn’t shut you out! You’re the one that’s kept me at arm’s length this whole time and you have the audacity to give ME that shit?”

  “We’ve been dating for a year and a half and last night was the first time you ever mentioned your family. What the hell is that?”

  “I didn’t know you were abused as a kid.” He shot back with equal venom crouching down to her height so they were eye to eye. “Or that you had trust issues.”

  The little quotation marks he made with his fingers when he said trust issues set her off. “You are one to talk!” She stepped forward, meeting him toe to toe. “You’re running around selling out your family. Did you ever think that if you trusted me enough to talk to me about that, I might have saved you from making a huge mistake?”

  Randy straightened up and stepped back. “I don’t consider that a mistake, the business is killing my father and he’s too pig-headed to sell.”

  “How is it killing him?”

  “He has cancer! The same kind of cancer that killed my mother. The same type of cancer my brother will eventually get if he doesn’t get his ass out of the business!”

  A dousing of gasoline would have been a more pleasant shock and Carolyn’s jaw fell open. The implications behind his words calmed her anger and she looked at him in a new light.

  “The warehouse is killing them. I heard what the doctors told my parents when they diagnosed my mom with lung cancer; they pegged it on asbestos exposure. Before she died, I promised her I wouldn’t go into the family business, no matter what my father said or did.” Randy stopped yelling and turned away. “I’m not the heartless bastard you think I am.”