by Tara Thomas
His hand once more came between them.
“You going to come for me again?” He rubbed her clit with his thumb.
She was on the brink and it wasn’t going to take much to push her over. Not with the way he was playing her body. She tried to answer him, but the only thing that came out of her mouth when she tried to speak was something that sounded like a mix between a whimper and a meow.
He rocked his hips, hitting a new spot inside her, and she was gone. Pleasure ignited within her and she came so hard, she saw stars. He followed seconds later. Overwhelmed by sensation, she collapsed onto the bed, not realizing Brent joined her until he rolled them so she rested on top of him.
He stroked her hair and peppered kisses along her forehead while his breathing returned to normal. In his arms, she felt secure and the rest of the world seemed so far away. She wished they could stay in his bedroom forever.
The shadows were growing long. Pretty soon, she would have to leave. But for now, with Brent under her and their passion temporarily abated, she could take him up on his earlier offer.
She lifted herself up on her arms and ran a finger in a figure eight across his chest.
He cracked one eye open. “What are you—”
“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “My turn starts now.”
* * *
“I wish you didn’t have to go.” He held up her right hand and kissed it, hours later. “I’d like for you to stay the night.”
She had already stayed too long. She had her weekly report to write for a meeting with her boss, Martin, at nine the next morning.
“I wish I could, too. Maybe next time?” She hooked her finger around his waistband and pulled him toward her. “Because there will be a next time.”
Just thinking there might be a next time was more than batshit crazy. It was risky and dangerous. To speak it out loud even more so. But there it was and she couldn’t help it.
“Oh, hell, yes,” he said, and dropped his head to capture her lips for a kiss that almost convinced her to forget the report and meeting. She groaned, though, because she knew she couldn’t. “I have to go,” she whispered against his lips.
He sighed. “I know. At least allow me to drive you home.”
“My car’s right outside.”
He gave her one last kiss. “Okay, I won’t push you, but next time?”
“Yes.”
It was full dark as he walked her to her car, holding hands. Even though night had fallen, the air was still thick with humidity. A group of crickets chirped, adding their particular music to the night.
“Thank you again for a wonderful day.” They had made it to her car, but she wasn’t quite ready to go home and face an empty bed.
“You’re welcome.” He started to say something else, but his eyes widened in shock. “No!” he screamed, grabbing and pulling her to the ground. He covered her with his body, seconds before a gun sounded and her car window exploded.
Reacting totally on instinct, she reached for the revolver she carried when she was off duty and groaned in disgust when she remembered she’d put it in her purse so Brent wouldn’t see it. And at the moment her purse was stuck under her and Brent.
“Are you okay?” Brent asked.
“Yes.” She tried to push him off of her. “Let me up so I can see.”
It was doubtful the gunman had stayed nearby. As soon as the shot was fired, yard lights began to flicker on, drowning the area in artificial light.
“We don’t know if he’s gone,” Brent said.
“Trust me. He’s gone.” She didn’t see anything suspicious or out of place. The only thing out of place was how fast Brent moved. Her heart still raced with the thought of how close she came to being shot. “How did you know?”
“I saw someone behind me with a gun. It was all reflected in your car window.”
She stood up slowly, still looking around, still trying to find out who shot at them. “We need to call it in.”
“I’m sure someone already has.” Brent fumbled in his pocket for his phone anyway.
While he talked to the 911 operator, Janie stood near the car, watching as people peeked out windows and cracked open doors. She scanned the area for any possible security cameras on Brent’s property, but she knew the best thing to do would be to look into any footage neighbors had. Surely in an area as wealthy as this one, people other than Brent had outside security cameras.
“Police are on their way,” Brent said. He came over to her and it wasn’t until he put his arms around her that she realized she was trembling. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Just a bit of shock.” She sighed and felt her body relax in his embrace. He still smelled like sex. “Why would someone shoot at us?”
It was the question she didn’t feel comfortable voicing until she was in the security of his arms. Yes, she was an undercover cop, but he was a wealthy, well-known local public figure. The gunman could have been aiming for either of them.
“I’ve never had anyone come after me with a gun,” he said, his unspoken question hanging in the air, Why would anyone want to shoot you?
She shivered and huddled closer to him, not wanting to answer, but her mind was working overtime. Was her cover blown? How? Had she stumbled upon something she didn’t realize the significance of? Did someone know who she was?
The wail of sirens sounded before he had a chance to voice his question. Janie shut her eyes, wondering who from the department would respond to the call.
Two car door slammed nearby and Brent pulled away from her to address the officers.
“Mr. Taylor?” a familiar voice asked.
“That’s me.” He moved in front of Janie, as if to shield her, but she stepped around him and faced her two coworkers.
“Can you tell me.…” The rookie’s voice trailed away and his eye widened as he recognized her. She shook her head and he coughed, directing his attention back to Brent. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Brent gave his statement and the other officer made a call. Probably to alert someone that she was involved. She couldn’t help but watch Brent. How was it possible that a little over an hour ago they were in bed, without a care in the world? And why had she thought it was a bad idea for her to spend the night? They could be on another round of hot sex instead of standing here, in the aftermath of being shot at.
She felt sick knowing that the guy got away because she had dropped her guard.
“Sir? Ma’am?” the officer who’d been on the phone asked. “We’re going to need you to come down to the station.”
Of course they would. Damn it all to hell, could this night get any worse?
* * *
An hour and a half later, she could have kicked herself, because she should have known. Things could always get worse. Like now, she was sitting in her supervisor’s office, waiting for him to talk with her. From the way people were looking at her as they walked past the open door, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
She didn’t know where Brent was. They had been split up as soon as they arrived. What had he been told? Was he still here? There was no one to ask and she wasn’t about to step outside the office to look.
“Roberts,” her boss said, coming into his office. He had a folder tucked under his arm and he closed the door. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She sat up straighter. “With the investigation or the shooting?”
“Neither.” He slammed the folder on his desk. “I want to know what the hell you’re doing traipsing around town with a potential suspect.”
She flinched. There was no answer she could give. Especially since she’d done so much more than traipse for the last few hours. She decided to remain silent.
He crossed his arms and pierced her with his gaze. “If that’s too much for you to handle, let’s start with why you were at his house so early in the morning?”
She thought that was rather obvious so she decided, once more, not to say anything.
With her
sitting down, he towered over her. “Did you or did you not meet him at the club while working undercover?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t interrupt me.” His eyes flashed and she swallowed. Damn, this was a mess.
“You’re a good cop, Roberts. One of the best. That’s why you’re on this case. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you screw it up because you’ve become involved with a suspect.”
The phone on his desk rang. “Martin.” He barked his name out, while still watching her. “Tell her to come on in.”
His door opened and all the air left Janie’s body as Alyssa walked in. Her friend didn’t look her way, which was odd, and suddenly Janie had a bad feeling about what was getting ready to happen.
“Thank you,” her boss said, as Alyssa handed him a file and remained there while he opened it and read the papers within it.
It seemed like forever, but surely it was only about two minutes or so until he looked up. “Is this everything?” he asked Alyssa.
“Yes, sir,” Alyssa said. “May I leave?”
“No,” he said. “I need you to stay here for a few minutes more.”
Alyssa still wasn’t looking at her, but her boss certainly was. “Not too long ago,” he said, “you identified Brent Taylor as a person of interest. Is that true?”
“That’s what I put my reports, sir,” Janie said.
“And yet two weeks later you were at his house very late at night. Two weeks.” Without waiting for confirmation, he continued, “Brent Taylor meets several of the criteria identified by our profiler.” Her supervisor flipped through some more pages in the file. “Way too many, for you to be cavorting with him outside of work.”
“When I first met Mr. Taylor, I thought the same thing.” Janie forced herself to remain calm, a feat that grew harder with each passing beat of her heart. She knew, she knew, Brent wasn’t their man. Yet, she’d messed up by getting involved with him. “But—”
He held his hand up. “Skin scrapings were retrieved from underneath the fingernails on the woman we found.” He tapped the report Alyssa had brought in. “The DNA doesn’t match Taylor’s.”
Oh, thank God.
She let out a sigh of relief. While her gut had told her that he wasn’t the one they were looking for, her mind still wouldn’t let her forget that he could be. At least not until now, when they had tangible proof that he wasn’t their suspect.
“This does not negate the fact that you were involved with a potential suspect.” His eyes blazed with anger. “Officer Roberts, consider yourself on suspension. You are not to go anywhere near the club, or look into this investigation any further. Someone will be in touch with you later about the details.”
The look on Alyssa’s face gave her some relief. From all appearances, her friend was just as shocked as she was about the suspension. Janie wanted to say and argue, but the fact was, she was exhausted and she knew she would only make things worse. Best to get a few hours of sleep and try to talk reason into her boss then.
She had to talk with Alyssa, too. What was she doing at the station this time of night? Something wasn’t adding up right and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was wrong. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to work it out at the moment. Maybe after some rest and lots of coffee, she could try to put the puzzle pieces together into something that made sense.
Alyssa looked everywhere except at Janie. That was fine, they could talk later. Come to think of it, she hadn’t told Alyssa about the altercation at the club with Charlie. Since it appeared Alyssa had taken the case over, she would definitely need to be aware of what happened.
She stood up. “Is Brent still here?”
Martin looked a bit shocked that she didn’t argue with him. He shook his head. “No, he left about an hour ago.”
She shot Alyssa a we need to talk look and went out the door. This night had certainly gone downhill fast. Brent was gone. Her car hadn’t been released yet. And she’d been suspended. Abso-freaking-lovely.
She stepped out of the building, planning on calling a cab, when she heard her name being called softly.
She looked up and smiled. Brent had waited.
He made his way toward her and as he neared, all of the emotions of the last six hours caught up with her and she started to cry.
“Hey,” Brent said, hurrying her way and putting his arms around her. He stroked her back and was so damn kind and gentle, it made her cry harder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
She would have to explain everything to him, sooner rather than later. She didn’t know how well he’d take it. But that could wait. For now, this moment, she only wanted him.
He pulled back. “What took so long? I was out an hour ago.”
She sniffled. Now would be the perfect time to tell him, but she didn’t want to do it like this. Not in the parking lot where she worked and not after she had just been suspended. “They had to deal with something else before they could talk to me.”
He nodded and seemed to accept that reasoning. He softly stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. That’s so unfair.”
She looked into his eyes and shoved aside the guilt she had over lying about why she’d been inside so much longer. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Can I crash at your place?”
He wiped her lingering tears away and kissed her forehead. It was altogether soothing, and not sexual at all. “Yes, of course. You can stay for as long as you wish.”
She let him lead her to his car, where he opened the door for her and saw her settled before getting in the driver’s seat. For the first time in hours, she let herself take a deep breath and relax. Her mind was filled to the limit with what she saw as multiple pieces of string, each one representing a person or a thought. She needed to sit down, detangle, and lay them out flat so she could see if anything matched or could somehow be linked together.
All that she would deal with later. For right now, in this moment, she was going to take Brent up on his offer to take care of her. There were worse ways to spend the few short hours before she had to deal with the fucked-up mess her life had become.
* * *
He disappeared into the shadows at the police station, holding his breath until the headlights of their car passed by. He didn’t think they saw him, but it had been damn close. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. He hadn’t expected her to come out when she did, and it had probably been a mistake to follow them here, but he had to know. Had to know if they recognized him.
He was still riding the high of a recent kill—that was the only excuse he could come up with for why he came to the station instead of heading home. As he waited in his hiding place, he recalled the events of the last twelve hours.
Charlie was blind, but he was always underfoot. If he ever took the time to think about what he’d heard on the streets, it was possible he could implicate him. When he’d come across the homeless man in the alley, he’d only meant to give him a warning, but then Janie showed up. She’d put him in her car and taken him to one of the nearby shelters. If he knew Janie, he knew she’d be back in the next day or so to talk more with him.
And that wouldn’t do.
So Charlie had to die.
He had waited until the old man stepped into the alley beside the shelter. It was empty and even though Charlie was blind, his hearing was sharp. The old man called out a tentative “Someone there?” as soon as he fell into step behind him, but of course there was no reply. It was too much fun seeing the look of fear in the old man’s eyes. He watched from a quickly located hiding spot as Charlie tried to decide if he really heard something or if it’d all been in his head. Standing there, unable to tell if he was alone or not.
These things required patience. He didn’t move from his hiding spot until the old man turned away. By the time Charlie realized his mistake, he had a knife at his throat.
So yes, he’d thought Janie would have been in the station lo
nger. Especially with the gift of Charlie’s body he’d left her at the homeless shelter.
That old man would be telling Miss Janie nothing. He smiled just thinking about it.
The only downside to the night had been the missed shot at Janie. His mind raced with how he could explain it. The important thing was to act as if everything was going according to plan. Yes, of course he missed. That was his intention the entire time. They didn’t actually think he was going to shoot a police officer, did they? He didn’t have a death wish. Oh no, he’d planned to miss. Let her off with just a warning.
That was it. A warning. It was just crazy enough to be believable.
He would tell The Gentleman he waited until the guy she was with saw him and then he shot. Of course her lover would save her. Of course he would. Besides, how crazy would it have been to shoot two people?
Though, now that he thought about it, he could have shot them both. Made it look like a mugging gone wrong. Yeah, he could have done that. And maybe … maybe that’s what he’d tell them. He’d planned to shoot them both, but who knew so many neighbors would have heard and turned on their lights?
No, he couldn’t use that excuse. The Gentleman would want to know why he hadn’t used a silencer. He’d have to go with a warning shot after all.
His phone vibrated, catching him off guard. Lately, he’d been jumping at his own shadow.
His fingers fumbled with the phone and he almost dropped it.
“Hello?” he finally asked the person who only showed up as UNKNOWN on his phone.
“Busy night tonight,” The Gentleman said.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I was going to call you.”
There was an ominous chuckle from the other end of the line. “I suppose you’re going to tell me it all turned out the way you planned?”
He froze, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. How did the man get inside his head like that? “Yes, sir,” he answered cautiously. “I wanted to scare her.”
“I think your plan may have backfired on you.”
He wrinkled his forehead because that statement didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“I didn’t think you would, but that’s okay. You will.” Something in The Gentleman’s tone scared him more than getting the letter about messing up again, more than standing in that room staring at his back, praying he didn’t turn around. “Trust me. You will.”
