There were times when he felt that she, too, had loosened up toward him; maybe she had begun to trust him a little. But she still wouldn’t come clean about what she knew about Underwood’s death.
What he hadn’t planned on was telling her so much about himself. Strange thing was that he wasn’t sorry about it.
Visions of her walking around his apartment, wearing nothing more than his pajama top, drifted through his mind. He’d never seen a sexier woman. The few times when he’d caught a glimpse of an exposed leg or shoulder, when the large top shifted awkwardly, a primal urge seared through him.
She’d confessed she’d loved Lee Carsey and something within him wondered what it would be like to be loved by her. Would she give as much as she took? Would her love strengthen her man? Would she be faithful?
Something told him that the answer to all his questions was a resounding yes.
In the distance, he heard the bedsprings creak and knew that she was tossing again. Maybe he should knock on the door and see if there was something he could do to help her get some sleep.
He groaned. Who was he trying to kid? Sleep was the last thing he wanted to do, and who could blame him? The woman was every man’s fantasy, and she didn’t even know it.
He pressed the small light button on his watch. It was a quarter to five in the morning, and he was nowhere near falling asleep.
The bed creaked again.
He groaned again. Will she go to sleep already? The torture of knowing her supple body lay enveloped in his clothes and in his bed was killing him.
Max sat up. His gaze darted around the living room and then toward the long hallway.
Another creak.
He swore under his breath and went to the kitchen. Within seconds, he had a cool bottle of water, which he pressed against his temple. Maybe it was a bad idea to keep her here. The woman was playing havoc with his self-control.
“Mind if I have one?”
He turned and saw the object of his desire illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. The pajama top exposed a bit of her shoulder and her hair looked like she had just awakened from a night of making passionate love.
“I hope you don’t mind me joining you, I couldn’t sleep.”
Max’s body tensed and he knew he needed to shut the refrigerator door, before the light revealed his growing erection.
“Sure.” He grabbed the last bottle and slammed the door.
Kennedy accepted the bottle he handed to her, but she didn’t move away. “How about you?”
He blinked, uncertain whether he had missed something.
“What about me?”
“Could you sleep?”
Her voice seemed lower, huskier than normal, and Max could feel that his erection was at full mast. “No.” He surprised himself by answering honestly.
She didn’t say anything else. In fact, Max sensed that she waited for him to say or ask her something. But his mind couldn’t stay out of the gutter long enough to think of any appropriate thing to say.
“I’m scared,” she finally said. “I’m scared of what will come with the sunrise.”
He knew she was referring to her son, and his heart immediately went out to her. “Where did you send Tommy?”
She turned away from the door.
Max concluded that he’d asked the wrong question.
Kennedy moved into the living room and stood by the window. “I can’t talk about that now.”
“All right.” He shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”
When she didn’t say anything, he moved to stand behind her. “Unless you don’t want to talk.”
“I don’t.” She turned and lifted her face to kiss him.
Max abandoned reason as he dipped his head to receive her kiss. He had never experienced a kiss like this. The woman’s lips were as soft as rose petals and tasted sweeter than wine. He pulled her closer, believing he could develop an addiction to everything about her.
Kennedy thought she could happily remain in his arms forever. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the splendor of a man’s touch. She twined her arms around his neck and allowed herself to sink further into his embrace.
In one quick swoop, Max swept Kennedy up into his arms and carried her down the hallway toward the bedroom.
The next thing she knew, she felt the firm mattress beneath her while his strong body hovered above her. She drowned in the passion of their kiss, and she didn’t care. She couldn’t think about tomorrow and what it may bring. In this time, and in this space, Detective Maxwell Collier embodied all she ever wanted in a man, in life and in love.
Zone Five Precinct
Saturday, 8:00 a.m.
Lt. Kelly Scardino watched Capt. Stephen Vincent scratch his head as he reread the report in front of him. Judging by the deeply grooved lines creasing his face, she felt safe to say that he wasn’t happy.
When he finished, his steel-gray eyes stabbed hers. If she were able to get out of there with her butt intact, it would be nothing shy of a miracle.
“Do you know what this is?”
“Yes, sir. It’s my official report.”
“No. This is killing my ulcers. That’s what this is.” He tossed the report aside. “I can’t take that to my superiors or the press. I can’t tell them that yes, my men were involved in a public shoot-out where four civilians and one cop were wounded, but no arrests were made.”
“One gunman was killed, sir.”
His gaze narrowed. “I stand corrected.”
“It’s all I have, sir.”
“And I’m telling you it’s not enough. What are we doing to locate this Keenan Lawrence character?”
“We have an APB out on him, but I have to tell you, I think the chances of us finding him are slim to none. Since he’s the leader of The Skulls, I’m sure he can make himself invisible if he wants.”
“So, are you suggesting that I tell the people of Atlanta that we are unable to protect them due to the fact that there is an invisible man in our midst?”
Scardino bit her lower lip and counted to ten before she answered. “No, sir.”
“I want this man found. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now where is this Ms. St. James?”
“She was released late last night.”
It was his turn to count to ten. When he finally spoke, his voice still quaked with anger. “And tell me why we released her again?”
“There was nothing to charge her with.”
“But she was the target, correct?”
“We suspect that she was the target. According to her statement, she was an innocent bystander.”
Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose. “This day isn’t happening.”
She shared his wish. “We have our best people on the case. The moment we turn up something, you can be assured that you will be the first to know.”
He nodded, but she knew he still wasn’t happy.
“And where are we on the Underwood case?”
Just when she thought she was going to make a clean getaway, Scardino felt the beginnings of a migraine. “Unfortunately, sir, we seem to batting 0 for 2.”
“A baseball joke.” His smile tightened. “You’re a regular riot, aren’t you?”
“No, sir.”
He simply stared at her. “I need results, Scardino. The press is hanging me out to dry on these cases. The mayor reminds me constantly that election time is right around the corner. And I don’t mind telling you that if I go down, I’m taking you with me. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, sir,” Scardino responded.
“Good. I expect to hear from you by this time Wednesday with some real progress. Hopefully you’ll have this Lawrence character in custody.”
She stood, relieved that she would, after all, be able to escape. “We’ll do our best, sir.”
He gave her a look that demanded that they do better than that.
Scardino made her exit without a backwa
rd glance. When she closed the door behind her, her shoulders immediately drooped and her migraine spread like a forest fire.
Aaliyah arrived at the Underwood estate, clueless as to what she was going to say to get an interview with Judge Hickman. Though the two women had never met, Hickman’s no-nonsense reputation preceded her.
Stepping out of the car, she self-consciously smoothed her pantsuit with her hands, and stared up at the beautiful colonial house.
“Come on, girl. You can do this,” she reaffirmed under her breath. But doubts still managed to ebb their way into her thoughts.
She walked slowly toward the door, her mind racing for an angle that would get her past the front door.
A strong gust of wind rustled the surrounding trees and, in the distance, she heard the sound of passing cars. Another sound drifted on the wind and she stopped to listen.
Voices.
Aaliyah cocked her head. It was a man and a woman. Their angry voices pricked her curiosity. Her impromptu interview with Judge Hickman was quickly forgotten as she crept toward the side of the house to hear more.
Chapter 22
Grady Hospital
Saturday, 10:30 a.m.
The medication that dripped through Dossman’s IV had him drifting in and out of consciousness. He swore that nothing compared to hospital drugs.
“Hey, you.”
Dossman rolled his head to the side. A lazy smile slid into place when he saw Kelly. “Hey, yourself.”
“How are they treating you in here?” She pulled a vacant chair closer to the bed, and then laced her fingers with his.
He licked his parched lips. “Are you kidding? Meals served in bed, drugs and sponge baths—I may never go home.”
She laughed. “You’re terrible.”
“True, but don’t tell anybody,” he said, enjoying the feel of her hand. He suddenly wished that they were waking up together at his apartment. He longed to see her usually coiled hair spread across his pillows, or to feel her body beneath his.
“You’re having dirty thoughts again.” Kelly waved a finger at him. “I can always tell by that glossy look in your eyes.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He tried to look pained by the accusation.
“No?”
“No. They were romantic thoughts. There is a difference.”
Her laugh deepened. “Not with you there isn’t.”
“Good point.”
For a brief moment, they simply stared at each other. Each read volumes of love and understanding in the other’s eyes, but neither knew if their love had what it would take to bridge the troubles of age, race or careers.
“Have you seen the doctor this morning?” she asked.
“Yeah. He said everything was looking good and, if I was a good boy, I could be out of here in no time.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad that one of us had a good morning.”
“Ah, I take it that you’ve already spoken with the captain?”
“If I remember correctly, I believe that he did most of the talking.”
“Figures.”
“I can’t say that I really blame him for chewing a chunk out of my butt on this one.”
“Really? A chunk? Stand up and let me see.”
She slapped his arm playfully. “Focus, will you?”
“Sorry. Any luck locating Lawrence?”
“Not yet. I swear, if it wasn’t for bad luck, I would have no luck at all.”
“Well, maybe I do need to stop hanging out with you. Your bad luck is starting to rub off on me.”
She rewarded him with another slap on the arm.
“I was just kidding.”
“Sure you were.” She smiled. “Anyway, I spoke to your partner last night.”
“Oh? Did he happen to say why he’s been such a slacker on the visits?”
“Yeah. He seems to have his hands full with Ms. St. James. She’s more or less hiding out at his place.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. And for some reason, I didn’t tell the captain that. Maybe it’s because I have a feeling he would have blown his top.”
Dossman shook his head as his smile widened. “Are you sure she’s just hiding out?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve seen those two together. And I would give anything to be a fly on the wall over there right about now.”
Kennedy smiled at the feel of the sun’s warm rays caressing her face. A rich, heavenly scent tickled her nose, further inducing her to remain drifting somewhere between dreams and consciousness, yet something tugged at her. There was something she needed to be doing.
She stretched lazily, and then froze when her legs bumped against something. Instantly, her eyes flew open, while her heart seemed to implode in her chest.
What did I do? She searched her mind for answers, but the effort only caused a loud thumping at her temples.
Max moaned in his sleep and his arm shifted to lay across her waist.
She tensed, unsure of what to do. Prayer seemed like the only logical answer. Various scenarios played in her head. In all of them, she portrayed the shameless harlot who had thrown herself at a valiant knight.
How was she going to face him?
She groaned as she grabbed her pillow and plopped it over her face to hide her shame. But her voice echoed in her ears and the pillow might as well have been a ton of bricks as far as she was concerned. How had she gotten such a severe hangover? It wasn’t like she had tossed down shots of tequila.
The phone rang and interrupted Kennedy’s panic attack.
Max sat up on his side of the bed and reached over to answer it before the second ring.
“Yeah.”
Trapped beneath the weight of his body, Kennedy had no choice but to wait where she was until Max got off the phone.
“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Uh-huh.”
Kennedy swallowed and wished that he would hurry and get off the phone. Finally, he shifted his weight and she was immediately able to breathe easier, but it slowed considerably when he swung his intense gaze in her direction.
“She’s safe,” he said into the phone. “Trust me.”
Though he wasn’t talking to her, both statements pulled at her. She did feel safe, strange as that seemed. And there was something about the look in his eyes that pleaded with her to trust him.
They stared at each other, the phone nearly forgotten. Then the person on the other line said something that drew his attention and he turned his head. The spell was broken.
She blinked and tried to clear the haze that clouded her head.
“All right. I’ll stop by the office after I see Dossman. Uh-huh. Later.” He hung up and then rolled onto his side. “I hope I didn’t crush you.”
“It’s a great time to ask.” Kennedy sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. A quick glance over her rumpled top told her she had at least remained clothed.
“Hey.” He touched her arm. “You’re not mad at me for something, are you?”
She shook her head and refused to look back at him.
“Well, you could have fooled me.” He waited a moment, and then added, “It isn’t about last night, is it?”
Humiliation burned through her. “You must think the worst of me.”
He laughed, unaware that in doing so, he made things worse.
“I have to use the phone,” she said, changing the subject. “Do you mind giving me some privacy?” It was all she could do not to start crying.
He didn’t respond.
“Please?” she added.
“Not until you look at me.”
His tone left no room for debate, but she did so anyway. “Please, go.” Her whispered plea tumbled from trembling lips.
For a long while, the room grew loud with silence.
“As you wish.”
The bed creaked as he got up. There was another rush of relief when she saw that he still wore his pajama pants.
“Just remember,” he said, when he reached the door and turned back to face her. “It’s almost noon.”
She frowned.
“You promised to come clean then.”
Had he slept with her to get a confession? Her gaze fell to the floor as that thought sickened her.
“I really need to make this phone call now.”
He studied her, then said, “Fine. But afterward, we talk. And I won’t be put off so easily next time.” Without waiting for a response, he slipped out of the room.
She stared at the closed door and tried to piece together exactly what just happened, but she let it go. She had more important things to contend with at the moment.
Her first call was to the Warners and she couldn’t prevent the ball of alarm from rolling over her fragile emotions.
Like before, she reached the answering machine and she hung up. When she dialed her grandmother’s, her hands shook and her mouth went dry. But after the seventh ring, she started to hang up.
“Hello.”
The sound of her grandmother’s voice temporarily rendered her speechless.
“Hello,” she repeated.
“Grandma, it’s me, Kennedy.”
“Thank heavens. Your friends and I have been trying to reach you all night.” A rush of relief echoed in her voice.
“Reverend Warner is still there?” she asked.
“No, he and his wife dropped Tommy off and left about an hour ago. But there’s this other young fella here who said that he came to see you. Do you want to talk with him?”
Before she had the chance to answer, a new voice came over the phone line.
“Hello, Kennedy. I’ve been looking all over the place for you.”
Disbelief racked her body when she recognized the deep, sinister voice of Keenan Lawrence.
Chapter 23
Max slammed pots around more out of frustration than in any genuine effort to cook breakfast. By the time he’d taken the bacon and eggs out the fridge, he’d started wondering why he was fixing breakfast instead of lunch. He cursed and put everything back.
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