by Beverly Long
He knew exactly what it had looked and smelled like. He hoped like hell that they didn’t run into something similar with Mary. That Mirandez hadn’t spirited the girl away just so he could kill her and dump her body up in the boondocks. “I’m sorry,” he said, thinking it sounded a bit inadequate.
“I am, too,” she said, her voice trembling just a little. “But thank you. It’s still hard for me to talk about it. For some reason, you made it easier.”
It wasn’t a dragon but close. A sense of satisfaction, a sense of peace, filled him.
The waiter arrived at their table, his arms laden with heavy serving platters. He set two sizzling steaks down in front of them with sides of baked potato and fresh green beans.
Sawyer picked up his fork. “Bon appétit,” he said. In return, she smiled and picked up her own utensils.
Twenty minutes later, the dishes had all been cleared away. Sawyer sipped a cup of steaming-hot coffee and watched Liz. She’d done better with dinner than she had with breakfast or lunch. She’d managed to eat at least half the steak and most of the potato. “Let’s get out of here,” he said when he saw her head jerk back. She was literally falling asleep sitting up. Within a couple of minutes, he’d settled the bill and walked her out of the restaurant. He kept his hand firmly planted underneath her elbow. It felt so right that he refused to think about all the reasons it was wrong.
A ten-minute drive got them back to the cabin. “Let me check it out,” Sawyer ordered. He opened the compartment between the two seats and pulled out the gun that she’d seen him shove inside earlier. When he got out, he quickly walked to the cabin door, the barrel of the gun pointed upward. He twisted the doorknob, evidently found it locked, because she watched as he unlocked the heavy door with the real key the office had given them. Then in one fluid motion, he swung his body inside. Within seconds he was back, motioning for her to get out of the car. “Looks okay,” he said. He waited for her to get inside, then pulled the door shut behind them, turned the lock and looked with some disgust at the flimsy chain before hooking it.
“What were you expecting?” she asked.
“I didn’t know. A good cop just expects something.”
Sawyer Montgomery was a very good cop. She stood somewhat awkwardly by the door. The cabin wasn’t big but comfortable enough. The small sitting area had two chairs, a lamp table and a stone fireplace. A sign posted on the fireplace warned against actually using it. To the right, pushed up against the wall, was a double bed. To the left, two doors. She walked across the scarred but clean wooden floor and peeked into the first one.
Okay. Small but neat. The bath had a white tile floor and pale blue walls. Above the shower stall was a small, high window with a faded yellow shade.
She moved on to the second door. Reaching inside the door, she found the light switch. A single bed with a dark green bedspread and small dresser almost filled the space. The switch controlled the floor lamp next to the bed. Its dim light barely reached the corners of the room.
“It’s kind of a two-bedroom,” Sawyer said, standing directly behind her.
“It’s fine,” Liz said. “Which bed do you want?” she asked.
Sawyer edged past her and in four steps walked across the small room. He lifted the inexpensive white plastic blinds and inspected the windows. They were double-paned and locked from the inside.
“I’ll take the one in the other room.”
The room with the door that had the no-real-protection lock. Yes, Sawyer Montgomery was a good cop. Even though she was more than a hundred miles from home, physically exhausted and in a cabin with a man she’d only known for a couple days, she felt safe.
“If you hear anything, and I mean anything,” he continued, “you come get me. I’m a light sleeper.”
Thinking about him sleeping just twenty feet away from her did funny things to her insides. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said.
“Just don’t hesitate,” he said. “Why don’t you use the bathroom first? I’ve got to make a couple calls and check messages.” He pulled one of the chairs closer to the lamp table. Liz grabbed her bag by the door and took it into the bathroom with her.
Sawyer waited until he heard the shower running before dialing Robert’s cell phone. When it rang four times, Sawyer got worried that Robert had some hot date. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was answered on the seventh ring.
“Why, it’s Fisherman Sawyer,” Robert said.
There were times when caller ID was inconvenient. “I figured the lieutenant would fill you in.”
“Oh, yeah. Where are you?”
“Halfway between Madison and Hell.”
Now it was Robert’s turn to laugh. “I’ve been there. Lots of potholes and greasy-spoon restaurants. Is our little piranha biting?”
“No. I didn’t really expect him to. I think I’m on a wild-goose chase.”
“How’s Liz?”
Wonderful. Gorgeous. Strong. “Fine. A little tired. It’s been a long day.”
“You planning on letting her get any sleep tonight?”
Sawyer could hear the tease in his partner’s voice. It didn’t matter. Liz and bed in the same sentence wasn’t funny. “None of your business,” he said.
“She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” Robert asked, his voice more serious than usual.
“She’s...interesting.”
“Six-legged spiders are interesting.”
“Them, too. Look, I better go.”
“Well, before you do, you might want to know this. Fluentes thinks Mirandez has a sister somewhere in Wisconsin.”
“What? I don’t think that’s possible.” Sawyer ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve never seen any mention of siblings. Not anywhere.”
“Well, rumor has it he’s got a much older sister. Hardly anybody has ever seen her, but she evidently came home for their old man’s funeral a few years ago.”
A sister? Was it possible that Mirandez had sought refuge with his family?
“Fluentes have a name?” Sawyer asked. “Was the sister married?”
“I told you everything I know.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Sawyer hung up just as Liz came out of the bathroom. She had on clean shorts and a T-shirt. She gave him a quick wave and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Liz closed the door and flipped the light switch off. In two steps, she reached the bed. She pulled the bedspread and thin blanket back all the way, leaving them at the end of the bed. She slipped under the cool sheet and hoped for sleep.
She rubbed her elbow. In the shower, she’d almost scrubbed it raw, in some silly hope that she could erase the feel of Sawyer’s hand as he’d cupped her elbow and guided her across the parking lot. She could still feel his heat, his strength, his goodness.
It had been a long time since a man had taken care of her. The last serious relationship she’d had, she’d taken care of the man. Not in the physical sense certainly but in almost every other way.
She’d been a twenty-five-year-old virgin when she’d met Ted. Theodore Rainey. They’d dated for two years before he’d asked her to marry him. She’d accepted both his engagement ring and the invitation to sleep in his bed. A year later, after three wedding dates had come and gone, canceled due to Ted’s work schedule, it had seemed as if they’d never manage to get married.
She knew she should have looked beyond his feeble excuses and tried to understand the real reason he avoided marriage. She supposed that was why psychologists never treated themselves. They had no objectivity. Had one of her patients described the relationship that Liz had with Ted, Liz would have advised her to get out of it.
In the end, they’d parted almost amicably. By that time, the sex was infrequent, generally hurried and rarely fulfilling. It had been a relief not to have to pretend
anymore.
Liz pulled the sheet up another couple of inches, snuggling into the cool bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about the lucky woman who shared Sawyer’s bed, knowing in her heart that that woman wouldn’t spend much time pretending.
Chapter Ten
Liz woke up when she heard the shower turn on. The walls of the cabin were perhaps not paper-thin but pretty darn close. She heard a thud and a soft curse. Sounded as if Sawyer was having a little trouble with the narrow stall.
She slipped out of bed, walked over to the window and peeked through the slats of the blinds. Looked like a pretty day. Bright sunshine with just a few puffy clouds. Maybe it would be a few degrees cooler than the day before. It had been a real scorcher. She’d known her air-conditioning didn’t work, but in some juvenile way, it had been her way of one-upping Sawyer. He’d been so high-handed about coming with her that she figured she owed him one.
But then later, when he remained in the hot car while she at least got a few breaks going into the mostly air-conditioned offices, and he didn’t complain even once, she began to feel bad. When he’d bought her bananas, she’d felt very stupid and very petty. She intended to start this day off better. She’d seen the sign in the office area last night that promoted the free continental breakfast for guests. She could go grab a couple cups of coffee, maybe some chocolate doughnuts if she got really lucky and be back before Sawyer got out of the shower.
She slipped her feet into sandals and grabbed her purse off the old dresser. When she opened the front door, she sucked in a deep breath, cherishing the still-cool early-morning air. It was probably not much past seven. When she got to the office, she had to wait a few minutes while a young family, a man, woman and three small children, worked their way past the rolls and bagels, assorted juices and blessed coffee.
No chocolate doughnuts but there was a close second—pecan rolls. She put two on a plate and then grabbed a bagel and cream cheese for good measure. Sawyer ate a lot. She poured two cups of coffee and balanced them in one hand, grateful for the summer she’d spent waiting tables. When she got to the door, the young man who’d gotten his family settled around the one lone table got up and opened it for her.
Liz strolled across the parking lot, loving the smell of the hot coffee. Unable to resist, she stopped, took a small sip from one of the cups, burned her tongue just a bit and swallowed with gusto. Little topped that first taste of coffee in the morning.
When she got outside the cabin door, she carefully set both coffees and the plate of pastries down on the sidewalk. She used her key to open the door. Then she bent down, picked up her cache and pushed the door open the rest of the way with her foot. She went inside and turned to shut the door. And then she almost dropped her precious brew.
Sawyer, wearing nothing but a pair of unsnapped jeans, had a gun pointed at her chest.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
What was she doing? “Are you going to shoot me?”
“Don’t ever do that again,” he instructed, ignoring her question.
“Do what?” She threw his words back at him. Darn, he had some nerve. He’d scared ten years off her, and he acted as if he’d been wronged. Before she dropped them, she put the coffees and the pastry plate on the table.
He closed the gap between them, never taking his dark brown eyes off her face. He carefully placed his gun next to the plate. “Well, for starters,” he said, his words clipped short, his accent more pronounced, “don’t ever leave without telling me where you’re going.”
He acted as if she’d been gone for three days. “Sawyer, you’re being ridiculous. I walked across the parking lot.”
He grabbed both of her arms. “Listen to me. You don’t open a door, you don’t answer a phone, you don’t—”
She tried to pull away, but his hold was firm. “I’m not your prisoner. You’re not responsible for me.”
He was close enough that she could see the muscle in his jaw jerk. “I am. Make no mistake about that. You do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it. This is police business, and I’m in charge.”
“I thought you might appreciate coffee. If I’d known that I might get shot for it, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
He stood close enough that she could smell him. The clean, edgy scent of an angry man. His bare chest loomed close enough that all she had to do was reach out and she would be touching his naked skin. She let her eyes drift down across his chest, following the line of hair as it tapered down into the open V of his unbuttoned jeans.
Oh, my.
She flicked her eyes up. His breath was shallow, drawn through just slightly open lips. His eyes seemed even darker.
And then he closed the distance between them and pulled her body up next to his, fitting her curves into his strength. He pushed his hips against hers, confirming what her eyes had discovered.
He was hard.
“This is crazy,” she said. “We can’t—”
“Just shut up,” he murmured, and then he bent his head and kissed her. As wild as his eyes had been, she expected the kiss to be hard, brutal. But it wasn’t. His lips were warm and soft, and he tasted like mint. She opened her mouth, and he angled his head, bringing them closer until she no longer knew where he stopped and she began. He rocked against her, and she thought she might split apart because the pleasure was so intense.
She moved her hands across his broad back, then lower, dipping her fingertips just inside the waistband of his jeans. She lightly scraped her nails across his bare, hot skin, and when he groaned, she felt the power of being a woman. It soared through her, heating her.
He moved his own hands, pushing them up inside her loose shirt. When all he encountered was bare skin, his big body literally shuddered. She pushed her hands deeper into his jeans, under the cotton material of his briefs, cupping each bare cheek. He pulled his mouth away from hers. “You’re driving me crazy.”
That made her braver, made her feel even more powerful. She found his lips again and kissed him hard. And she arched against his body, greedy with her need to touch him everywhere. “I want you to—”
The shrill ring of a cell phone cut her off. Sawyer pulled away from her and reached across the table to check his phone.
“It’s mine,” Liz managed. “It’s in my purse.”
She grabbed the still-ringing phone. Remembering his orders that she couldn’t answer the phone without his permission, she looked at him. The phone rang two more times before he nodded. Liz hurriedly pushed a button. “Hello,” she said.
“Liz, you were supposed to call me yesterday.”
Howard Fraypish. She’d forgotten all about him. “I’m sorry, Howard. I had a few things to take care of.”
She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and whispered to Sawyer, “I’ll be just a minute. It’s Howard.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow.
“We’re working on a placement.”
“Sure. Whatever.” He walked across the room. She watched him pull a T-shirt out of his bag. He pulled it on in one smooth motion.
“...and I need to make sure that Melissa hasn’t changed her mind. The Partridges don’t want to be disappointed.”
She’d totally missed the first part when she’d been ogling Sawyer’s bare chest. “No, Howard. I spoke with her just a couple days ago. She’s definitely giving the baby up for adoption. I don’t think she’s going to change her mind. She should deliver by the end of next week. And then two weeks after that, she leaves for college.”
“Call me the minute she delivers.”
“I will, but don’t worry. She knows you’re handling the legal work. I told you that I’d told her to call you directly if she can’t reach me.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He sounded so distracted. “Is something w
rong, Howard?”
“What could be wrong? I’m just busy. Really busy. I’ve got to go. Goodbye, Liz.”
Liz snapped her phone shut. Sawyer stood next to the table, drinking one of the cups of coffee.
“You want the bagel?” he asked.
So, he wanted to pretend that the past ten minutes hadn’t happened. That they hadn’t argued, that they hadn’t practically swallowed each other up. No, she wouldn’t let him do it. Even if it meant that she had to admit that she’d come close to begging him to take her to bed.
“What’s going on here, Sawyer?”
He stared at her for a long minute. “When I got out of the shower and I couldn’t find you, I got worried. It was less than a week ago that somebody made a threat to your life. Now, I know you think that it was just some kid but maybe not. Even if it was, we’re on this crazy chase after Mirandez. I know you don’t understand how dangerous he is. But if you’re right that he and Mary are here and he finds out that you’re looking for him, there’s no telling what he might do. The man has no conscience. He kills people like the rest of us kill bugs.”
Well, okay. “I’m sorry. I should have said something before I went for coffee.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just forget it.”
Forget that he’d kissed her? Was it that easy for him? “We got a little carried away here,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “You’re right. I’m attracted to you, Liz. But to act upon it would be absolutely wrong on my part. Whether you like it or not, I am responsible for this operation. And that includes you.”
“I’m a big girl, Sawyer. I take responsibility for my own actions.”
“And I take responsibility for mine.”
He didn’t sound too happy about it. “Sawyer, I don’t understand why we can’t—”
“Because I can’t lose focus. My job is to find Mirandez. And to arrest him, with solid enough evidence that the guys in suits have no trouble getting a conviction.”
