by C. J. Pinard
The mention of Duke gave me an idea. I went back to my desk and dialed his cell.
“Special Agent Hawthorne.”
“What’s up, bro?”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “What’s up, you little asshole?”
“I need some help.”
He snorted. “You need lots of help. Of the psychological variety.”
“Fuck off, Duke.”
“Didn’t you call for my help?” he asked.
I sighed, but had to bite back a smile. “I got a suspect I know is guilty. Witnesses place him at the crime scene of each place before the thefts occurred, but judge won’t give us a warrant to search his damn trailer. Any advice?”
I heard his chair creak as he leaned back in it. He always did this when he was working. I would bet he was running a hand over that ridiculous beard of his, too. “Off the record?”
“Of fucking course.”
“Catch him in the act.”
“Dude, how the hell am I gonna do that?”
“Make sure he’s committing the act and you’re there,” he said.
“So, basically make him an offer he can’t refuse? Frame him?”
He clucked his tongue in a scolding manner. “Nobody uses the F word around here.”
“I’m tracking. Thank you, bro.”
“Anytime. Now get to work. I got my own shit to do,” he said.
Before hanging up, I said, “We need to get together. How’s that pretty blonde girlfriend of yours?”
“Fucking awesome. Thanks for asking.”
“It’s so cool seeing you all in love and shit,” I said, just to press his buttons.
“You should try it sometime, dick,” he replied.
I chuckled. “I’m working on it.”
“Oh yeah? Found yourself a lady, did you?” he asked, sounding genuinely intrigued. I heard his chair creak as if he leaned forward in it.
“Maybe. She’s a bit hard to read. I’m working on it, though.”
“Keep me posted, and send me pictures of her.”
“No fucking way,” I replied.
He chuckled. “Bye, Mace.”
I ended the call and thought about what he’d said. He was right. Silas needed to be caught in the act. An idea began to form in my mind… I just had to make sure it was legal – and legit.
Should I call Harper?
Yes, I should call her.
No, don’t call her, you will sound desperate…
Would I, though?
The plot in my mind to catch Silas involved Harper. I wanted to involve Amber, the bimbo from the other nonprofit, but when I worked out the details in my mind, it just couldn’t come together. I needed Harper and her company to make it work.
I pulled her card from my wallet and dialed her work number.
“Harper Mathis,” she answered.
In a move more bold than usual, I said, “Hello, gorgeous.”
The silence on the other end began to grow awkward until she spoke again. “Detective Oliver?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Woman. I’ve kissed you silly in an elevator. You don’t need to call me that. Yes, this is Mason.”
She laughed and it made me smile. “Okay, Mason. How can I help you?”
“You can help me by agreeing to have dinner with me tomorrow.”
After just a slight hesitation, she replied, “Um. Okay. I can do dinner.”
I chuckled. “Okay, well that wasn’t what I called for, but one point for me for multi-tasking.”
She giggled. “You are seriously impossible!”
“Nope, just smart, and know what I want.” I didn’t give her a chance to speak when I continued, “I need you to call Silas Short for me.”
She gasped. “What? Why on Earth would I do that?”
“Tell him you found a job that’s perfect for him, but tell him he has to come in and talk about it.”
She was quiet for a bit. “And this will help you catch him?”
“Yes, it will. And don’t worry, you won’t be in any danger.”
“I’m not afraid of Silas, Mason.”
I smiled. “Good, you shouldn’t be. I’m pretty sure you could take him in a fight.”
She laughed. “I would never…”
“I was joking, Harper. Now, have you replaced the items you lost in the theft?”
“Yes, for the most part. I need to buy a few more things still, though,” she said, sounding tired.
“Great, that will piss him off. Do you have a TV in your office?”
“No, why?”
I grinned. “I would get one. Mount it to the wall in front of your desk. That’ll drive him totally crazy.”
She laughed a little. “The only crazy person here is you, Mason Oliver. I will think about it. When I have the appointment scheduled with Silas, I will call you and let you know when.”
I grinned in triumph. “Okay, beautiful. See you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at your house.”
“But you don’t know where I live,” she replied.
“Right, which is why you’re going to text me your address,” I said confidently.
“You got it,” she shot back, sounding happy. And when Harper Mathis sounded happy, I was happy.
“Bye, gorgeous.”
I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, much like Duke always did. Two birds, one stone. Yep. That’s me. I rock.
“Turn left on Oswald Street,” the annoying-ass GPS voice said as I made my way to Harper’s house.
It eventually led me to a townhouse complex, and it didn’t take me long to find Harper’s door. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as hell as I approached the door.
I saw a doorbell on the right of the door, so I pushed it. I didn’t hear it make any noise, and sighed, shuffling nervously as I waited.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. Harper answered the door and when I caught sight of her, I had to suck in a breath. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d never seen her in anything but a ponytail pulled tight at the back of her head, but today, her shimmering blonde hair was lying in waves around her shoulders, coming to rest just on top of her breasts over her hot pink shirt. The way her hair framed her face made her look angelic, and I immediately realized that I was a devil who didn’t deserve her. My eyes raked down her body at the loose white skirt and pink shoes.
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” I said, staring at her.
“Please come in,” she said, opening the door wide with a shy smile.
The townhouse was beautiful. Stone floors, modern brown and white furniture, stainless appliances in the kitchen. It only took me a few seconds to assess the place before my eyes landed back on her.
“You have a nice home, Harper. But it pales in comparison to your beauty.” I turned on the charm and flashed her a smile.
“Thank you, but the decorator did all this.” She motioned around her townhouse. “I do not have an eye for this type of stuff.”
My eyes landed on a small ceramic figurine sitting on her sofa table. I wandered over and looked down at it. It was a male angel with large wings spread from its back and its hands were pressed together in prayer. Around its neck hung a very real pair of dog tags on a chain, which pooled onto the glass table. I didn’t touch it, but I could see “Keith Andrew Mathis” and his DOD number, religious preference, and blood type embossed on them.
My heart almost stopped. Shit just got real… as they say. I felt a lump form in my throat and then slowly looked at Harper. She was staring curiously at me, a little sadness on her face, but she didn’t look overly-emotional.
“This is… well, fucking beautiful.”
She nodded. “Adria found the angel in Mexico when she was on vacation. I added Keith’s tags to it. I didn’t know what else to do with them. Didn’t seem right for them to sit in a box with his ashes.” I watched as her eyes moved to an urn on her fireplace mantle. I couldn’t look anymore. I suddenly wanted to leave.
Walking over to her, I stopped within inches of her. “I feel like I should go.”
She broke our stare-off and looked down, shaking her head. “But I don’t want you to.”
I thought she’d agree that I should go. I didn’t think she would have anything to say except to agree and watch me leave. So when I was met with silence, I moved my hand up and used my finger to tip her chin up so she had to look at me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Her sky blue eyes stared into mine. “Yes, I’m sure. You… you help, Mason. I know we don’t know each other that well… yet, but just being around you is healing me, bit by bit. Because before I met you, I felt like I wanted to die. Now I want to live – and I want you in that life.”
Oh… my… damn…
My lips crashed down onto hers because that was the only option. The lump in my throat was still there… but it was dissipating slowly. I needed to show her that I would be here for her and not “leave her” like she told me Keith had done, even though I knew the poor dude hadn’t wanted that. I pushed him from my thoughts, and wrapped my arms around this beautiful, broken woman and put everything I had into that kiss. It was soft and passionate… and when my head felt dizzy and my stomach began to swim with butterflies, I knew I needed to stop.
A strange sort of fierce need to protect began to swell within me. I ran my hands up her back and took hold of her long hair, grasping it gently at the scalp to control her head as we kissed. My other hand had a firm grip on her lower back, pressing her into me.
By now, my cock had risen to attention and my hips pressed firmly into hers. I couldn’t believe this drop-dead gorgeous woman wanted me. I couldn’t believe she had any attraction to me, but she did. Her breathy moans and the way she ran her hands up my back told me she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.
That being said, it was time for us to go out on a date. If I seduced her right now, I’d probably end up feeling like an asshole or something. We were going to have to save that for another time.
I slowly pulled back from our kiss and looked down at her. “Let’s go get some food. If we don’t leave soon, I’m afraid I might do something I might regret.”
“You don’t strike me as the regretful type,” she breathed, gazing up at me.
Was that challenge in her eyes? Damn… this girl was going to unravel me. I’m a carefully put together guy with a strict routine and a plans made ahead of time type of dude. I planned ahead because spontaneity wasn’t part of my DNA, and I was excited for what I planned for the date. But…
The top she wore had no sleeves, and I slid the shoulder part down and leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder. Then my lips trailed up her neck, to her jaw, then her ear. “Do not challenge me. Do not tempt me, Harper. I am always in charge, but I do have weaknesses I’m not ready to show you yet.”
She sucked in a breath and nodded. “I’ll give you that – for now.”
Amused, I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that we should leave and go on our date, like you said,” she replied.
She broke out of my grip and reached for her purse, heading toward the front door.
Chapter 17
Harper
I had the oddest jumble of emotions tumbling through me. Not only was I still extremely worried about Adria, I was excited for my date with Mason. I was growing tired of feeling guilty for having feelings for another man, but that didn’t mean the feelings weren’t still there. Then seeing Mason looking at Keith’s angel figurine sent another crash of emotion through me. As soon as we walked out my front door and got into Mason’s car, I decided I was going to talk it out. I know men aren’t big talkers, but too bad.
“Do you like Italian food?” Mason asked me.
Like I care about food.
“Sure, I can eat anything.”
No, I can’t eat anything.
He smiled and turned his blinker on to make a sudden turn. “Great. I know a kick-ass hole-in-the-wall.”
I didn’t respond, I just looked straight ahead.
“Is that okay?” he asked, glancing at me from the driver’s seat.
I nodded. “Of course. Who doesn’t love lasagna?”
“Nobody. Nobody hates lasagna. If they do, they are un-American,” he said with a grin.
I bit back a smile. “Or un-Italian.”
He chuckled and reached down to turn up the volume on the radio, which was playing some pop stuff. I looked at the way the muscles in his arm moved at the motion. He wore a short-sleeved fitted black T-shirt and I could see a tattoo peeking out under the sleeve. I reached over and pushed up his sleeve and he glanced at me then down at my hand, which was still on his arm. His very nice, muscled arm.
An Army unit insignia, along with the initials S.E.M., were tattooed across his entire shoulder. It was a beautiful tattoo.
“Want to tell me the story behind this?” I asked, finding myself stroking the tattoo gently with my fingers.
He glanced at me, then at my fingers again, then said, “I will, but if you keep touching me like that, I might not be able to concentrate enough to tell the story.”
I laughed and pulled my hand down into my lap. “Sorry.”
“Dammit, woman, you were supposed to keep touching me. I thought you were the stubborn and defiant type who didn’t like to be told what to do,” he chuckled.
That sorta upset me and I huffed. “Don’t play games, Mason. Say what you mean. I have not played the dating game in years, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
He frowned and glanced at me, then put his eyes back on the road. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. I was just teasing you. Make yourself a note, though. I like you touching me. I will never not like it.”
I bit back a smile. “Apology accepted. Now continue.”
He nodded slightly and said, “Seven years ago, I was in Iraq. My good buddy Scotty Mulliken and I were pretty much inseparable. We were both MPs out on patrol one day when our CO told us to go check something out. He sent out two vehicles full of GIs. Scotty was in the first Humvee, I was in the second.”
He paused as if he needed a minute. I’d seen that look on the faces of so many in my line of work. These beautiful men, who had sacrificed so much for their country, and were trained to be brave and tough, but were still human and constantly warred with their emotions. It was completely normal, but no less heartbreaking to watch. I pushed down the lump in my throat and waited quietly for him to continue.
“It seemed to happen in slow motion. One minute, their Humvee was driving over the sand, the next it was being lifted into the air and then exploding in a ball of flames.”
He took a deep breath and I continued to stay quiet, even though I had a thousand things I wanted to say to comfort him. “It flipped in the air. Smoke, flames, screaming… it’s all a blur but Scotty didn’t make it. Nobody in that rig did. Gone, all of them just like that. And for what? Some fucked up war we shouldn’t be fighting for a country who doesn’t give two fucks that we were there.”
The car came to a stop and I realized we’d reached our destination and he’d parked in a spot in front of a small restaurant. My chest ached and my heart seemed to constrict painfully when Mason finished his story. Keith’s life hadn’t ended too differently but I didn’t want him to know that. One day I would tell him the story the Colonel had told me when he’d broken the bad news to me. But today was not that day.
This lighthearted date had turned heavy quickly, and I hadn’t even meant it to. It was just a tattoo. I didn’t mean for this to happen.
“Mason,” I said, looking at him as he stared straight ahead.
He looked at me, his beautiful hazel eyes staring into mine.
“I’m sorry about your friend. So many good men have died. It’s senseless and we may never understand why, but it is what it is. You’re a good friend to have gotten this tattoo for him.” I reached up and touched his arm, once again running my fingers over the ink.
H
e stared at me for a bit, and I waited for him to respond, but he didn’t. Mason got out of the car and came around to open my door. I got out and looked up at him. Admittedly, I found it extremely sexy that, even though I was over five-foot-seven, he still towered over me. He had to be at least six-foot-one, maybe taller.
We stood next to the passenger door after he’d closed it and sort of looked at each other. I made the first move by stepping into him and wrapping my arms around his waist. His arms went around my back in a hug and I looked up at him.
“Thank you for sharing Scotty’s story with me. I know it had to be hard.”
“I haven’t told anyone that story before,” he breathed, staring into my eyes.
I smiled up at him. “Then I feel extra special.”
“You are special,” he replied, his eyes darting between mine, as if searching for something. Then, leaning down, he pressed his lips to mine.
I hadn’t expected that, but I admit – it felt good. The guilt that swamped me was pushed aside as I closed my eyes and just enjoyed what we were doing.
Pulling back gently, he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. “Now, let’s go eat.”
He grabbed my hand, leading me into the restaurant. I realized we’d reached Luigi’s, a popular Italian hole-in-the wall restaurant here in Tampa. I got a lump in my throat. This was also a place Keith and I came to frequently. There was no way I was going to tell Mason that, though. I would just have to make sure they didn’t seat us at “our” table. That would be too much for me to bear. Especially after that emotional car ride.
Thankfully, dinner was pleasant and delicious. It was becoming easier to talk to Mason, to understand him and his personality. I was so grateful he wasn’t shy and seemed to open up to me, because he was doing a lot more opening up than I was. I began to wonder when learning to live again was going to start happening. I’d probably have to learn how to dismiss the guilt that always ate at me first. Often times I would think I should probably go talk to a therapist or a counselor, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. It was like I already knew what they were going to say. Which was severely hypocritical of me, since I constantly insisted that my clients take their bruised and beaten psyches to see a shrink A.S.A.P. It wasn’t that I thought I was above it, it’s just, I guess, that I didn’t want to them make me feel any more than I already did. I had been hurting for so long that I just started to shut down. Adria called it wallowing; I called it just not dealing. I had avoided Keith’s side of bed, his clothes, his closet… but then I smiled when I thought of the small but victorious breakthrough I’d had last week. One small victory that would hopefully help me win the war.
