by Lydia Burke
"Never mind that," Leutzinger said impatiendy. Apparently willing to let a breach of professionalism slide in the face of more weighty matters, he turned to Ben. "We've got trouble."
"I knew something was wrong," Jessie said. "You were gone so long."
Ben suddenly realized their little group was smaller than it had been. "Where's Ed?"
"Good question," Leutzinger said in a disgusted voice.
"We might as well start at the beginning." Allie walked to the couch and sat down. "The journal wasn't where I'd left it. I guess that old tree trunk wasn't such a hot idea, after all."
"Really?" the agent sneered.
"Hey, I didn't know about that kid," Allie retorted defensively. "The last I remember, a middle-aged couple with teenagers was living in our old house."
"Wait a minute," Ben cut in. "You mean a kid took it?"
Allie nodded. "A real cutie. The poor little guy had asthma."
"Which he demonstrated at a most inconvenient time/' Leutzinger added, taking a seat on the recliner.
"That was your fault," Allie accused hotly, "He wouldn't have if you hadn't scared him!"
"The kid was lying to us. Even you could see that."
"Good grief." Ben was beginning to feel like a spectator at a Ping-Pong match. "Could we have the story from just one of you?"
"77/ tell it." The look Allie flung in Leutzinger's direction defied him to disagree. "I hid the journal before driving Christie back to Kansas. It was the middle of the night and the house was dark. I had no trouble slipping in and out of the yard. But tonight the man and his wife were still up."
"A good thing," Leutzinger interjected. "Some people may think nothing of disregarding personal property and privacy laws, but agents of the government don't have that option. We had to get permission from the owners to look for the journal, and they were very cooperative, in spite of the late hour.' p
His interruption netted him another dark look from Allie. "When we discovered the journal wasn't where I'd left it," she went on, "the man suggested that his son may have found it. So we all trooped into the house, and the woman got the boy out of bed. The poor kid was scared he was in trouble for taking the journal—that's why he didn't tell the truth right away. But big, brave Mr. G-man here flashed a badge under his nose and in general intimidated him into confessing."
"Quit sniping, Allie." That was Jessie. "Honestly, what's gotten into you? Just tell us what happened next."
Hear, hear, Ben seconded silently.
With ill grace, Allie said, "He ran into his room, came back with the journal, and handed it to me."
"Andyou handed it to Ed," Leutzinger said, glowering.
"Why wouldn't I, dammit? He's FBI, isn't he?"
"That had nothing to do with it, and you know it. You just didn't want to give it to me. ''
"Cut it out, you two." Ben's voice erupted, loud and unexpected between the nit-picking pair. He'd had enough. Once everyone's startled eyes had turned his way, he forced a more moderate tone. "Now, whaf s this about Ed?"
"I was getting to that," Allie said sullenly. "I did hand the journal to Ed, which was a perfectly logical thing for me to do. Ed took it and thumbed through it a little, while Agent Leut-zinger thanked the parents for their help. Then the little boy started gasping for breath. Before long he turned blue and scared the bejeebers out of all of us. I've never seen an asthma attack before—I thought he was going to die. It seemed like it took forever before his mother found his inhaler, but once he had that, he started breathing easier. Me, too, I don't mind saying. Anyway, when it was all over and we could see he was going to be all right, we looked up and realized Ed was gone."
"Along with the journal and the government car we came in," Leutzinger said, clearly disgruntled.
"Ed Brock—a rogue agent?" This unexpected twist in the case disturbed Ben.
"We had to ask the boy's father to drive us to my place so I could pick up my own car and bring Allie back here. She's yours for the night, and you're welcome to her." Ignoring Al-lie's outthrust jaw, he rose from his chair and buttoned his coat.
"Hold on, I'll walk out with you." Ben grabbed his jacket from the closet. "You two stay put," he warned the women darkly with his hand on the doorknob.
Jessie's eyes swept up and connected with his. "Be careful," she said softly.
Ben saw concern for him in her gaze and something more-something he refused to acknowledge.
"Wait," Allie said. "What about my story?"
Leutzinger's lips tightened before he tinned to her. "It appears we're both out of luck, Ms. Webster. Good night."
"I can't figure it," Ben said on the short walk to Leutzinger's car. "I would have sworn Ed wasn't the type to turn bad."
The agent snorted. "He's not the first good agent to jump over the fence after staring so long at the color green over there, and I doubt he'll be the last." He gestured toward the house. "At least the heat's off the women in there. I doubt Ed will waste any time handing over Mai's journal to his and Rory Douglas's mutual friends, in which case the hunt will be called off. The twins should be safe."
"You're going after Ed tonight?"
"With everything I've got." Leutzinger's voice was flat. "I want that journal, and I want Ed Brock. I hate dirty cops. I'll get him, no matter what it takes."
In spite of Leutzinger's efforts, his piey was nowhere to be found.
That news was part of the update Leutzinger provided when he called Ben in the next afternoon to officially release him from the Duan case. The government car had turned up in a small used-car lot south of Oak Park, but Ed had left no clues to his direction after ditching it. The already indistinct trail was getting colder.
Interestingly enough, Marie Brock, the wife from whom Ed had been separated for fifteen years, had taken leave from her job that morning. A family emergency, she'd told her boss, but Leutzinger's men had questioned her mother and found that the woman knew nothing about an emergency or her daughter's whereabouts. Marie, like Ed, had vanished without a trace. Which could only mean, Leutzinger told Ben, that she'd helped her estranged husband get away.
Ben had to hide his reaction when he heard about the missing Mrs. Brock. His partner hadn't mentioned his wife during their long hours of surveillance together, or even that he'd ever been married.
So much for friendship, he thought, shaking off his disillusionment. So what if the man he'd believed Ed to be didn't exist? Leutzinger hadn't guessed the agent was dirty, either, and he'd worked with the man for more than two vears.
Besides, now that he was off the case, Ben had better things to think about. This morning he and Jessie had dropped off Allie at her motel. Allie had immediately loaded her bags into her rented car and headed back to Port Mangus to return the rental and assure herself that her house and belongings had come to no harm in her absence.
Which meant Ben and Jessie were alone again. It was time to see if he could finagle some vacation time out of his precinct captain.
He asked for three weeks and got one.
Chapter 14
JDen found Jessie working in the computer room when he got home.
"A vacation?" she asked- "Are you planning a trip somewhere?"
"Actually, I thought it might be nice to stay here," Ben said. "Would you care to join me?"
The hope shining in her deep blue eyes when she happily agreed was unmistakable. Obviously she read more into his invitation than he meant.
Ben didn't correct her misconception. His conscience made noises, but he silenced it by promising himself he'd take the next week from her and no more. After all, she would end up hating him, no matter when he called it quits. An additional week could hardly make things worse.
But to Ben those seven days might make a world of difference. He couldn't resist the chance to come out of the cold for a little while. And who knew? Maybe some concentrated time with Jessie would cool the fire burning in his gut for her.
Just a week—not so much to ask.
And what a week it was. Except for a single trip the first day to Jessie's apartment for some clothes and toiletries and a quick
stop at a grocery store, they stayed inside and reveled in each other. Days and nights blurred together as they ate, slept and made love whenever and however the mood struck them. It was the most exhausting, absolute best week of Ben's life.
But the day inevitably came when he had to report for work again. That morning he made love to Jessie slowly and with determined thoroughness, exploring and memorizing her body as he willed his senses to hold on to the touch and taste and smell of her. When at last she begged for completion and he could prolong his own need no longer, Ben brought them both to a shuddering climax.
What a fool he'd been to think their sexual marathon might work her out of his system. He knew now he'd never have enough of her.
Jessie snuggled against him. He held her close, thinking about what she'd given him. She wanted to give more, he knew. Ah, Jess, he said silently. If I was a better man, the one you think I am, I could gladly accept everything you offer and live happily ever after. Instead I have to let you go.
How long would it take her, he wondered, to find the lucky guy who would marry her, give her those kids she wanted, and wake up beside her every day for the rest of his life? Ben hated even the thought of the nameless stranger she would someday love.
Suddenly Jessie sighed. "I guess it's back to the old grind for both of us today. I'll probably have to blow the dust off my computer, it's been so long." She gave his ribs a little squeeze and said wistfully, "But if s been lovely, hasn't it? Do you suppose the rest of the world is still out there?"
"It's there, all right," Ben said grimly.
"What time will you be getting home tonight?"
"I'm working the six to two shift." He answered absently, his mind on how to bring up the subject he dreaded.
"Two in the morning?' 9 She rolled into a sitting position, tousled her curls sleepily and shrugged. "Oh, well, we can sleep in tomorrow. I'd better come here, though. You don't need the long drive to my place at that hour of the night, especially after eight hours' work."
Ben looked at her cautiously.
"If s all right, isn't it?" Uncertainty clouded her face. "I mean, I'm not going to move in, or anything. But how else arc we going to see each other, with your schedule?"
There was a pillow crease on her cheek, he noticed, and her lips were still slightly swollen from his kisses. She looked vulnerable, soft and well loved.
He couldn't bring himself to say no.
'Til give you a remote so you can get in the gate," he told her gruffly.
They settled into a routine of sorts. After spending the night, Jessie, needing solitude to write, would leave for Oak Park about midmorning to work at home. Alone and oddly restless during the hours between her departure and his late-night shift, Ben killed time by working on his house. He'd taken up renovation again, this time on the second floor, just for something to do. Even though he didn't have a clear idea what use if any the upstairs would provide, the project kept him from thinking too much and the physical labor was satisfying.
It came in a distant second, though, to having Jessie meet him at the back door after work. Her eyes would smile a welcome and her skin would be freshly bathed and soft with scented lotion under her satiny green robe. Ready for him.
He was a weak man taking advantage of a good woman. He knew it, but he didn't have the strength to stop the best thing that had ever happened to him. And, he rationalized, as long as that was the situation, he might as well indulge himself. He'd save the regrets for later.
One evening a couple of weeks after their hiatus, he came out of the precinct briefing room with a handful of other officers and looked around for an available telephone. He'd be hitting the streets in less than an hour with the narcotics task force he'd been assigned to. If he didn't settle the vague misgivings that had been distracting him since this morning, he wouldn't be worth spit out there tonight.
Spotting a vacant desk in a far corner of the large common area, Ben headed over, punched in Jessie's number and waited through a long series of rings. Finally she answered with a breathless hello that reminded him of the startled little gasp that always escaped her lips in the sweet moment before she found
release in his bed. He smiled and eased a hip and thigh onto the desk. "Did I catch you doing something unmentionable?"
"Ben/' The knot of tension inside him loosened a little at the warm recognition in her voice. She didn't sound mad.
"I'm so glad you didn't hang up before I got here/' she rushed on. "I was already outside, on my way to your place, when I heard the phone. Is something wrong? You've never called from work before."
Ben lowered his voice. "Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering why I woke up alone this morning."
"Oh." Jessie's voice softened, too. "I had to come home early today to call my agent, and didn't have the heart to wake you just to tell you I was leaving. You get so little sleep."
"What about you?"
"Unlike some supermen I know, I nap during the day. Anyway," she teased, "I knew what would happen if I woke you up.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw a uniformed cop slip into a chair at a nearby desk. "Uh-huh. So how come you called your agent?"
"Oh, we're changing the subject, are we? Okay, I can take a hint. No dirty talk at work."
The racy remark made him grin. Jessie had come a long way from the scarred divorcee who hadn't known the power of her femininity. In his arms she'd blossomed into a desirable, passionate woman, confident of her sensuality and comfortable with her body. Ben took pleasure in knowing he'd given her that, at least.
"... write a series of books with secondary characters from Midnight Lies. My agent loved the idea, since that title was my top seller. What do you think?"
His wandering mind came to attention and just managed to catch the gist of what she was saying. Jessie often asked his opinion about her work, and wouldn't listen when he protested he didn't know anything about the writing business. He'd given up arguing about it, figuring her agent would keep her on the right career path.
She was pleased that he'd read a couple of her novels. Ben had every intention of reading them all, and not just to humor her. She told a good story, and the loves scenes were some-
thing else. The truth was, he didn't just admire her talent, he was proud of her.
"I liked that book, too," he said. "Go for it."
"I think I will, but I have to finish this one first," she said. "Oh, Allie called this afternoon. And guess what? She said Cal Leutzinger talked her into withdrawing her complaint against Rory Douglas. She's coming back to town tomorrow."
"I know. Cal told me."
"He did?" She sounded surprised. "I thought you weren't working for him anymore."
"I'm not. If s just professional courtesy. He knows Tm still interested in the Duan investigation, so he calls me whenever something happens. Did Allie tell you she didn't agree to drop the charges until he promised her a personal interview if he breaks the case? He's gritting his teeth thinking how she must be gloating over finally getting her way."
"Those two." Jessie laughed softly. "I'm still surprised he talked her into it, the interview notwithstanding. She really wanted Rory Douglas to get what was coming to him. Me, too. I don't see why he should get away with assault. It doesn't seem right. Allie could have been seriously hurt."
"It's just another trade-off, Jess," Ben said. "It's not every day an assistant U.S. attorney is charged with assault. Allie's case would have drawn a lot of publicity, not to mention she would have had to testify in open court about Mai's journal. The FBI wants to keep that quiet, at least until Ed turns up and they know for sure what he did with it. Cal's still hoping they can salvage something out of the whole mess."
"Speaking of the journal, did he tell you whether they got any information from the men whose names Allie remembered?"
"Nothing useful. None
of them would admit to anything more than having spent time at Club Duan, which was what Cal expected. They'd be stupid to confess even knowing about Mai's otter services."
"You mean the FBI hasn't learned anything new since you've been off the case?"
"Nothing important. The real break in the case would be finding Ed Brock. The way Cal figures it, Ed's the key to ev-
erything from Mai's vanishing act to the ringleaders she was working for."
"I hate to think thafs true. I liked Ed."
"Yeah, well, he fooled a lot of people."
"Hey, Sutton!"
Ben turned at the sound of his name and waved an acknowledgment to the man signaling him. "I've got to go, Jess," he said. "Oh... and about this morning?"
"Yes?"
"Next time wake me."
"Why, that sounded suspiciously like an order," Jessie crooned provocatively.
"Yeah," he sassed back. "I'm a real drill sergeant."
She gurgled. "You're bad, Ben."
"Just wait till tonight."
"I'll be there."
Over the next several hours Ben prowled shadowed city streets, blending into the seething atmosphere of desperation and hopelessness as though he belonged there. He'd been wired for sound, and an unmarked police van followed him discreetly. They were after pushers tonight, and Ben knew how to find them.
Methodically he worked, by turn becoming belligerent and foulmouthed or wary and grasping as the situation demanded. His performance was flawless, perfected by experience. One by one he sought out the targeted dealers and bought drugs. As soon as each recorded buy was completed, the team swooped in for the arrest. Then they moved on to another block, another bust.
For the limited type of operation they were running, it was a good night. In all, Ben and the task force got four small-time dope peddlers off the streets, at least one of whom appeared to be willing to sell out his supplier for clemency.
