The devil and Jessie Webster

by Lydia Burke

  He slipped out of bed and turned off the ringer on the bedside phone. Naked, he padded to the telephone in the living room, catching it in the middle of a ring.

  "Hello?"

  There was a brief hesitation on the other end, and a female voice said, "Who is this?"

  "Allie?" At once Ben's hazy mind cleared. "This is Ben. Where are you calling from?"

  "Never mind where J am—where's my sister? Why are you answering her phone?"

  "We had her calls forwarded to my number. She's staying with me." Ben's brain identified the background noise coming through the earpiece as highway traffic. "Where are you?"

  "Why is she staying with you? Oh, never mind. Let me talk to her."

  "She's still in bed."

  Another telling silence. "You're sleeping with her?"

  Avoiding a direct answer, Ben snapped, "I'm doing precious little sleeping these days. Thanks to you, your sister needs a bodyguard, and I've been elected for the job. Now the sooner you turn that journal over to the authorities, the sooner life can get back to normal for all of us."

  "That's what I'm trying to do. Look, Ben, Fm on the road back to Chicago, and somebody is waiting to use this phone, so I don't have a lot of time to talk. Jessie says you're a cop, and you sure as hell sound like one all of a sudden, so I want to make a deal. An exclusive for the journal. Can you do that?"

  "No, I can't. I'm not authorized to make any deals. The best thing for you to do is find the nearest police station and—"

  "No, dammit! I'll hand it over to whoever can promise me this story and nobody else. So you might as well tell me who that is."

  "What happened to the breezy, free-wheeling Angela we all know and love?" Ben asked sarcastically.

  "Give me a name, Ben."

  "An FBI agent named Cal Leutzinger," he said. "But I wouldn't count on a deal if I were you."

  "Just have him ready to see me. I'll take care of the rest."

  "Don't be dumb, Allie. You can't come into town on your own. It's not safe."

  "Let me worry about that. I have a plan. Jeez, I'd better hurry—if s cold, and this woman out here is getting impatient. Tell that FBI guy to meet me at two o'clock today, okay? Oh, and thanks for taking care of Jessie. I didn't mean for her to get involved."

  "Wait a minute—"

  "Gotta go now. Bye."

  "Wait! Allie—" But Allie had already hung up. He wondered how long it would take her to figure out she hadn't designated a meeting place. "Damn."

  Ben put the receiver into its cradle, thought a second and picked it back up to press in Leutzinger's home phone number.

  Five minutes later he hung up the phone, damning Allie Webster, Cal Leutzinger and life in general. He hadn't anticipated this turn of events.

  He didn't notice Jessie standing just inside the hallway until she spoke.

  "Good morning."

  He turned, his irritation forgotten. Wearing a shy smile and the shirt he had tossed aside last night in his haste, Jessie looked rumpled and very, very sexy.

  For a moment the adoring look in her eyes gave him pause, but he pushed aside the unsettling feeling and went to her. She came into his arms willingly, turning up her mouth for a soft, fleeting kiss.

  "Good morning." He kept his face close and nuzzled his nose against hers. "You taste like mint."

  "I borrowed your toothbrush."

  "And my shirt, too, I see." She had left the three top buttons undone, providing him with a tempting view. Ben leaned away and ogled it blatantly.

  "I hope you don't mind."

  They kissed again, long and deep. Soon Jessie's arms were clasped around Ben's neck and his hands were moving under the too-big shirt. The feel of her soft skin sent a vibration of possessiveness shuddering through him, unexplainable but urgent. He hoisted her up by her bottom and pulled his lips away only long enough to gasp, "Put your legs around me." Compliantly she enclosed his waist in a sweet girdle of smooth feminine muscle. He carried her back to the bedroom and tumbled her onto the mussed bedding.

  As he reached for protection he studied her, wondering about the need she effortlessly drew from him. Even after last night, he wanted her.

  It was just the sex, he told himself. It wouldn't do to get carried away with dreams and emotions he had no business entertaining. He'd better watch it, or before he knew it, he'd be in too deep to get out comfortably. But it felt too good to stop now.

  Jessie reached for him. Ben came down on top of her, his niggling concerns forgotten as he lay claim yet again to the secrets of her body.

  Later he rolled to his back, pulling Jessie with him. Wearily he arranged her pliant body along his side and declared with a sigh, "I am a satisfied man."

  Jessie flopped a limp hand onto his chest and stroked his damp skin and hair lethargically. "Does that mean we're not going to do it anymore?"

  Ben, whose eyes were closed, heard the sated note in her droll wisecrack and chuckled. "You'll be the death of me, woman."

  "You're safe for a while," she murmured, and yawned. "I think I'll sleep the day away."

  "No, you can't." Ben's feeling of well-being fled. "Don't go to sleep, Jess. We've got company coming."

  "We do? Who?"

  "Cal Leutzinger. I forgot to tell you—Allie called earlier, while you were still asleep."

  Jessie raised her head. "Why didn't you wake me? I wanted to talk to her."

  "You probably should have. / sure didn't get anywhere with her."

  "What did she say?"

  "Not enough." Ben related abbreviated versions of Allie's call and his subsequent conversation with Leutzinger. "When she calls back to set a meeting place, he wants to be here so he can talk to her himself."

  Jessie listened thoughtfully. "How dangerous do you think it is for Allie to come to Chicago by herself ?"

  "I don't know, Jess. Leutzinger did say if anyone is trying to find that journal, they're probably watching for her in Port Mangus and Sheboygan rather than Chicago."

  "Why does he think that?"

  "Because there's been an APB out on Allie's car in three states since yesterday. No one has reported spotting her. Plus she was smart enough to make a withdrawal of several hundred dollars from her account on Wednesday and hasn't used any credit cards in the meantime. Which shows she's doing some thinking."

  Jessie's brows knit together in a frown. "When did they find out all that stuff?"

  "They've been working on it since yesterday afternoon. What it means is, if the FBI hasn't been able to trace her movements, it's not likely anyone else has, either. From what you've told me, you're her only obvious connection in Chicago. So if the worst case happens and the wrong people know

  you're sisters, Allie knows you're here with me. There's no reason for her to go to your apartment. My guess is she'll be okay. Hopefully when she calls again, you'll be able to talk her into turning the journal and herself in."

  ""Iirn herself in'? You make her sound like someone who's committed a crime. Agent Leutzinger hinted at the same thing yesterday. You'ie both wrong about her."

  "Easy, Jess. You know what I meant. Allie hasn't exactly been cooperative with us, but I believe she does intend to turn over the journal. And so far she hasn't broken any laws. At least none that she'll be charged with."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Well, she stole that journal. But without Mai Duan to press charges against her, she won't be arrested. And Mai's missing, remember? Even if she shows up again, I doubt she'll want to call police attention to a piece of evidence that would almost certainly incriminate her."

  Jessie fell silent. Having given her that bit of oversimplified hedging to chew on, Ben stretched out his arm and patted her bare bottom.

  "Try not to think about it, honey. We have other things to worry about right now, like getting up and dressed before Leutzinger gets here. I don't know about you, but I could use a shower. How about it? I wash your back, you wash mine?" He waggled his eyebrows.

  Jessie's stom
ach chose that moment to growl expansively.

  He grinned down at her. "On second thought, breakfast first."

  Together they raided Ben's bounteous freezer. At his request, Jessie ate her microwave pancakes dressed only in his shirt. He'd found her a pair of heavy wool socks to keep her legs and feet warm, a consideration that charmed bar.

  They spoke little during the meal. Obviously tired from their night of passion, Ben was indifferently groomed in an old gray sweatshirt and yesterday's jeans. He hadn't shaved, and his hair was rumpled from a haphazard finger-combing. But the slumberous cast of his tilted eyes put Jessie in mind of hot need and sweet release. Just looking at him was enough to keep her warm.

  "You're very quiet/* she observed when they'd finished eating. "Is it something I said?"

  He pushed his chair back and started gathering their dishes. "Not you—Leutzinger. Having him come over here makes me edgy."

  "You surprise me. I didn't think you were the type to be intimidated by your boss. Here, let me help with that." Jessie got up from the table and joined him at the kitchen sink.

  "Pm not intimidated. I just don't like it. You want to rinse and stack these in the dishwasher?"

  "Sure." She nudged him out of the way.

  Ben took on the remaining chores, wordlessly putting away the syrup and wiping down the table and countertops. As he worked, his tension seemed to increase until it emanated from his body like shimmering waves of heat from sunbaked asphalt.

  Bemused by his brooding silence, Jessie finished her job quickly and reached to dry her hands. Without warning, Ben came up behind her, his lean, hard body crowding her stomach against the edge of the counter. She felt him, solid and male, all up and down her backside as he folded the cloth he'd been using and hung it with exaggerated care beside the towel.

  He must have shaken off his dark mood, Jessie thought. She wriggled her rear end against his fly and grinned, leaning back to look at him.

  His mouth came down hard on hers, pushing her head into his shoulder. She felt his palms on her bare thighs, sliding up under her shirt and nestling like spoons beneath her breasts. His tongue tasted of syrup and greedy pleasure.

  "Sweet, sweet Jess," he whispered into her ear. "You know what I wish?"

  "What?"

  "I wish Leutzinger and your sister and everybody else in the whole damn world would just go away and leave us alone."

  "What a lovely thought." Jessie turned in his arms and searched his face. She didn't fully understand the message she read there, but suddenly the words that had been hovering in her heart since the early morning rose and pushed against her tongue.

  "I love you, Ben."

  His eyes flickered the second before he averted them. "You don't love me, Jess," he said gently.

  A fist squeezed Jessie's heart. "I don't?"

  He shook his head. "You're confusing love with lust. Sex is a powerful thing, and I'm the first man to really satisfy you in bed, so..."

  "You needn't talk to me like I'm still in kindergarten, Ben." Jessie stepped out of his arms. "And I don't need you to tell me what I feel. I'm a grown woman."

  A stupid grown woman who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut, she clarified silently.

  "Believe me, I know you are. And I'm not the kind of man

  you... you deserve " His raking fingers messed up his hair

  even more, and he shook his head soberly. "Don't fall in love with me, Jessie. There's no future in it. Just enjoy what we've got."

  Jessie's confidence slipped in the face of his absolute statement. His bluntness hurt. No future? Was she wrong to love him? Had he lived without love so long, he had none to give back? Maybe she was a fool to think hers could erase his darkness and make him happy.

  But she rallied when she remembered her early morning vow. She couldn't give up on him so soon. One thing she'd learned from her marriage was to fight for what she wanted. Ben cared for her, she knew he did. She couldn't have been mistaken in what she'd felt from him last night. No, he was the one who didn't know the difference between love and lust.

  Jessie shored up her determination. "Maybe you're right," she told him lightly. "Now how about that shower? I'll give you first dibs."

  Ben looked doubtful, as though unsure he had gotten his point across, but then he shrugged. Apparently he'd decided to leave well enough alone. "You're not joining me?"

  "Uh-uh. Time's awasting, and I'd probably be tempted to jump your bones again."

  "I might be tempted to let you."

  His eyes took on a familiar gleam that Jessie was relieved to see. She hadn't scared him off.

  She summoned a laugh and shooed him out of the kitchen.

  Two cars buzzed in at Ben's gate at about ten. Leutzinger drove the first, and the second, to Ben's annoyance, held Rory Douglas.

  Ben held the agent back at the door, letting Douglas enter the house ahead of them. "What's he doing here?"

  Leutzinger looked at him quizzically. "When I called to tell him what was going on, he asked to come along. As prosecutor, he has a vested interest in this case, so I didn't see any reason to say no. Was I wrong?"

  It would suit Ben just fine to never see the man again, but he shook his head. "Nah. It doesn't matter."

  They entered the house just in time to see Douglas's eyes light up when he spotted Jessie, who was looking gorgeous in the suit she'd worn yesterday. Ben quickly moved in to stand beside her. He endured the handshake Douglas forced on her, even though he felt like lopping off the man's arm at the elbow. Jessie didn't dawdle over the greeting; she turned at once to extend the same courtesy to Leutzinger.

  With the amenities over, an awkward silence fell. Jessie looked at Ben, eyebrows raised. She indicated the topcoats both men wore against the near-freezing temperature outside. "These gentlemen would probably like to take off their coats."

  Ben lifted his shoulders in an I-could-care-less shrug. He'd be damned if he'd play the role of fawning host to a couple of intruders. He pointed. "There's the closet, gentlemen."

  Jessie cast a puzzled glance at him when Leutzinger and Douglas turned their backs. Ben pretended to ignore her by sauntering over to a window and staring out.

  "Nice place," Leutzinger said after hanging up his coat. "Has the woman called yet?"

  "Not since this morning."

  Ben's succinct retort did not invite further comment; thankfully, none was offered.

  He felt jumpy inside, uneasy. This feeling that something was unraveling had started when he realized he couldn't dissuade Leutzinger from coming over today. It had increased every time he thought about that uncomfortable scene in the kitchen with Jessie earlier. And now that his boss had showed up with Rory Douglas in tow, it was worse than ever.

  The two men inside these walls felt like a violation. For the first time since Ben had bought this place for a sanctuary, the

  separate parts of his segmented existence were coming together, overlapping.

  He'd never been one to frequent the hangouts where cops gathered to let off steam over a few beers, nor did he accept invitations to the homes of fellow officers. That kind of socializing was fine for others, even necessary, but Ben had never felt that he truly belonged to the unique brotherhood of his profession.

  He'd found his own way of dealing with the pressures of the job—here, under the roof of this old farmhouse. Except for the plumbing and electrical work, every bit of renovation was the product of his own planning and the labor of his own hands, plotted and executed exactly, down to the shade of varnish on the baseboards. It was straightforward, rewarding work over which he exerted absolute control.

  Ben took a great deal of satisfaction from the results.

  The house was a haven he had so far kept segregated from his life as an undercover cop. Here he could almost forget who he was in that other, dirtier world where lies prevailed and anything could happen.

  Leutzinger and Douglas didn't belong in his peaceful refuge.

  "Wouldn't it be mor
e comfortable if we all sat down?" The strained suggestion came from Jessie. Apparently they'd all been waiting for an engraved invitation to use his sofa and chairs.

  "By all means," Ben said grudgingly. "Have a seat."

  Some of his annoyance faded when he saw Jessie's pink cheeks. She was embarrassed over his less-than-welcoming attitude. Something inside him gave a little.

  "There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen," he said. "Since we don't know how long we have to wait until Allfc calls, I'll get everybody their first cup. After that, you're on your own. Give me a hand, Jess?"

  When they were alone in the kitchen, she folded her arms and studied him. "If you're bucking for host of the year, I think you need a little polishing up."

  "Hey, I didn't invite than. I'd just as soon they didn't get too comfortable."

  "I don't think you have to worry about that* They probably fed about as welcome as the swine flu."

  "Good. Then they'll leave as soon as possible." Ben poured coffee into the mugs he'd lined up on the counter.

  * * Come on, Ben. The time is going to creep by for all of us if you don't show some common courtesy."

  "Why should I? This is my home. I come here to get away from reminders of my work, not to have them knocking on my front door."

  Jessie compressed her lips. "Is it those two in particular, or does that apply to all your guests—including me? I'm connected to the case you're working on."

  Ben's hand slipped and a tiny puddle of coffee splashed onto the counter. She had him there. He'd broken his own rules by suggesting to Leutzinger that he guard Jessie in his well-fortified home. This was the one place where he tried to forget he was a cop, and Jessie's presence brought countless reminders. Why hadn't she spoiled the peace he found here, as Leutzinger and Douglas had?

  It must be the sex, of course, he assured himself for the second time that day. Which was one more reason to wish the two men in the living room to perdition.