by Kaylea Cross
But now he had a pretty good idea about this frog footprint tattoo. He needed confirmation of his hunch.
Daisy was quite the stunner, just like Armando had told him, and side-by-side, Riverton probably would have chosen her over Libby. But he could understand why Cooper had made his decision. On Riverton’s radar, a woman with lots of worldly experience was way more valuable, and probably more able to deal with his personal demons, not that he ever wanted to show them.
He knew Daisy could pick up on it, so he tried to just look like a middle-aged cop who wasn’t very good at his job, and see if he could snag something when she was unaware. He had a feeling this little lady knew the perp.
She asked him if he wanted a seat in her chair.
“No, thanks. Do you have a room we could sit in for a private conversation?” he asked.
Immediately the buzzing all around the shop stopped, which confirmed that the artists really could hear over the noise. He imagined they stoically overheard all kinds of stories every day. Kinda like in his work.
Riverton followed her down the hallway and, in spite of himself, he noticed his dick had risen from the dead, where it was unsafe, and since it wasn’t Saturday night with his favorite girl. And without the use of those blue pills she always offered him. Daisy was doing what Mia had started, making him feel like a man more than just a cop.
Okay, that’s a good thing. Let’s move on.
She pulled back a beaded curtain and took him to a break room sort of place with a coffee pot that had been fresh about six hours ago.
“You want some?” she pointed to the sludge in the pot.
He must have wrinkled his nose because she giggled. Why do they train women to giggle? So fucking distracting. He liked her loose, easy gait and the way her flesh hung on her frame. He envisioned a thorough interrogation with handcuffs and some sex toys, someplace much more private than this.
Geez. Would you grow up? He hadn’t thought about those kinds of visions for years. So, maybe he was waking from the undead after all. Maybe it can happen.
Daisy leaned forward a little too obviously and showed him her butt cheeks as she surveyed the minefield of contents in a small white refrigerator. “We got water, and Red Bull.”
He didn’t know what to say at first. He was still thinking how nice her ass looked. She swung her head around, focused on the ground and very slowly drew her eyes up his body until she smiled when their eyes connected.
Have I just been flirted with? Holy shit. Someone actually flirted with me.
“How about I buy you a cup of coffee?”
Was that coming from his mouth?
She shook her head slowly, still looking at him with lidded eyes. “No can do.”
I can only imagine.
She sighed. “I guess it’s water, then.” She handed him a cold plastic bottle.
Riverton opened up the cap and guzzled half of the water down. She was seated at the little Formica coffee table, her legs crossed, sipping on the bottle, those luscious pink lips all over the top flange. She stopped the water from spilling out on her chest, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but she did it with her tongue, and that definitely was a good thing. She pointed to the chair across from her.
It was painful to sit. Riverton cleared his throat, set the bottle down and fumbled to get the picture from his breast pocket. Before he could show it to her, he found himself staring at her open palm, halting him.
“First, I want some ID.”
He reached into his back pocket and produced his badge. Daisy fingered the ridges on the gold shield.
“Okay, then. What have you got there?” She leaned into the table and he couldn’t help but see her enormous breasts were resting on the Formica. They were bigger than he’d seen in quite a long time, and the lovely pink plastic of the tabletop lifted them gently.
What I’ve got here is a colossal boner. Riverton adjusted his legs, spreading his knees wide and to the sides and showed her the picture of the cat murderer.
All the color leached from Daisy’s face. Her forehead furrowed, and she was clearly distressed. He could see from her reaction she knew she gave that tat. She turned the photograph over, placing it face down on the table.
“Do you have an idea who this is?” he asked.
“What’s he done?”
“I can’t tell you that. You know him, don’t you?”
“Not sure.” She was being careful. “I don’t get to know everyone who comes in here, but every once in awhile someone comes in and just gives you the creeps, you know what I’m saying?”
Riverton nodded. He liked her honesty.
“I think this guy came in about two years ago. Alone. And that bothered me. Usually the Team guys—you know this is the tat all the SEAL Team 3 guys, Kyle’s group, get, right?”
“Yes, I’ve met them. Some of them, anyhow.”
“Usually they will come in with the new guy. Give him a hard time, you know. They ask me to sort of blow his mind a bit, you know, clean fun and all that.”
She smiled and Riverton’s dick lurched.
“They make his first tat an experience?” he said, noticing his voice had gone up an octave.
“Exactly.” Her large white teeth were stunning. And she had a dimple in the middle of her chin.
“Sort of an initiation, a welcome to the Teams and all. These new guys are always like babies, you know? They are scared to death. Guys in this shop start talking about asking them to bring back severed body parts and shit, you know, just to scare them. It does.” She giggled and her breasts bounced.
Riverton took a quick intake of air. This was getting hard. He was getting hard.
“But not this guy?” he asked.
“No. Not this one. Came in all by himself. And he kept asking questions.”
“What did he look like?”
“Well, first of all, he looked too old to be a new SEAL. I mean, he looked like he could be my dad.”
“So did you question him, like you did me?” Riverton was glued to her blue eyes and the way her eyelashes batted up and down in a flutter that almost made his heart stop.
“I’m careful.” She appeared to be thinking before answering. “I didn’t want any trouble, so, when he appeared to know all about the tats, I just painted him.”
“What made you think he was trouble?”
“His questions.”
“About what?”
“Had I ever seen a Team guy go off the deep end, had any of them gotten violent with me? That sort of thing.”
“I can see why it gave you the creeps.”
“Wouldn’t have worked on him if I had been alone. He came back one other time and asked for something else. I was just closing and I was alone. I told him me and my boyfriend were closing for the night and to come back another day. He never did.”
“So you have a boyfriend?”
“Had.”
“He a SEAL too?” Riverton wanted to hear her say it.
“That one? Nope.” She leaned forward again, mercifully. “A cop.”
“Ah,” Riverton managed to get out, despite the fact that his lower brain was making plans.
“I go for the uniforms. And I love equipment.”
Riverton was sweating profusely.
“Recently, I was dating a guy on Kyle’s Team. He’s had a run of some pretty bad luck and hasn’t been the same since.”
Riverton guessed she’d not been happy with Cooper’s departure. He didn’t want to let on he knew all about it. Armando had warned him not to bring it up or he’d not get any cooperation. Well, maybe he could make it up to her for causing her a little distress this afternoon. “How about I pick you up for dinner when you close, and you can give me a thorough description of what this guy looked like?”
She thought about it for a minute, checking her fingernail polish. “Okay. I’m done at 5:30.”
“Perfect.” One thing was still niggling in the back of Riverton’s head. “I don’t quite follow som
ething, if you don’t mind. You were so careful speaking with me, checking me out and such. And yet, you didn’t question this guy at all. How come?”
Daisy leaned onto the tabletop again, this time pressing her breasts into delicious pillows of flesh that made Riverton’s mouth water. He’d get his lips on those tonight if it killed him.
“Because.” she smiled as she noticed Riverton was transfixed on her boobs. “Giving someone a tat is one thing.” She pushed the picture in his direction with one finger, polished to a bright pink. “Wanting to get naked with someone is something else entirely.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Cooper was on his way to drop Libby off at the Hotel Del. Armando called him during the trip over. Cooper had pulled over to the side of the road to listen. Libby could hear Armando squawking on the other end of the line, telling Cooper about a confrontation with someone named Mia, and the visit with Riverton. She remembered hearing somewhere that Mia was Armando’s sister, and that made her feel a little better.
Libby stared out idly, leaning against the passenger window. Bay sat tall in the back seat and observed his humans.
“Honestly, Coop, don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Libby could hear Armando say on the other end of the phone. “But wanted you to know he’d be talking to Daisy. The tat was definitely hers. But here’s the thing. The guy had scars on him, like he was a nut job.”
Libby froze in place. Nut job? Who was Daisy?
“Scars?”
“Southern Cross.”
Libby saw Cooper stiffen at first and grip the steering wheel. “I don’t know anyone with one of those who’s on any of the Teams. Do you?” he asked his friend.
“Not a one. Not possible, I’m thinking.” Armando’s voice was tinny. Armando ended the call by telling Cooper Fredo had a package for him.
Cooper hung up, and pulled out into traffic. Libby wanted in the worst way to ask him about who Daisy was. She bit her tongue and continued to watch the shops glide past them as they wound through the commercial district along the strand. She twirled her hair and tried to think about anything else, but hearing the name of someone Cooper had obviously been involved with bothered her. She didn’t like the immediate wave of jealousy that threatened to ruin her day.
Finally, Cooper cleared his throat. “I used to date this girl named Daisy. She owns a tattoo parlor on Coronado where a lot of us get our tats done.”
Libby could tell there was more to it. “Uh huh. So why did he call, then? How come she’s involved in all this—whatever this is?”
“The picture of the arm holding Noodles had tats on it like these.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the frog footprints going up the inner side of his right forearm.
“The guy who killed Noodles had these?”
Coop nodded.
No wonder Riverton had considered Cooper a suspect. Thank god she’d never seen that picture. She had no idea. She’d seen these frog prints, of course, as he’d reached up to her while lying in bed, when he’d pressed his forehead to his arm while his hand rested at the top of a doorway, and while he pulled his shorts up and over that flat abdomen and those non-existent hips. They were as much a part of him as the dusting of light brown hair on his tanned chest.
Libby touched the little prints with her fingertips, as if checking to see if the ink was three-dimensional. “She did these?”
“Yes.” Coop exhaled.
“And you think she gave a tat to the man who killed my cat?”
“I’m fairly certain, yes.”
Libby didn’t like thinking about Cooper with another woman, but she had a hard time removing the vision of his long lanky frame in bed with another anyone else. It wasn’t possible to be casual about this, but she really tried.
“So, Cooper, was it serious?” She didn’t look at him, but stared straight ahead.
Cooper’s head whipped around Libby felt his eyes on her profile. “No,” he said. “Never. Not like—”
Libby turned to face him. “Us?” She hadn’t wanted to ask, but she had to.
“No. Never serious. She didn’t expect much from me. It was uncomplicated.” Cooper’s eyebrows squinted together. He was barely moving his head as he shook it back and forth. Traffic forced him to turn back to focus on his driving.
“It was just sex, then?”
Cooper didn’t answer, which spoke volumes. She could see he was thinking about how to answer her. Do I really want to know?
Cooper grabbed her hand and kissed it, keeping his left hand on the steering wheel. He continued to grip her fingers as he shifted gears. Libby didn’t pull away. He kissed her cupped palm and then released her.
“It’s never just about sex with me. I’m not that way.”
This was going to hurt. Libby braced herself.
“But it was what I needed at the time. And I found I just grew out of it. I changed. I consider her a friend still, but I have not seen her since I met you. That’s the truth, honey.” He reached out his right arm. “Come here.”
Libby scooted beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. She concentrated on the raising and lowering of his chest and the sound of the wind fluxing through his lungs. With his arm around her, she did feel safe.
And yes, loved.
* * *
They had agreed to talk later that night. Cooper would be spending the night at the Brownlee house, and Libby would stay at the hotel with her parents. She begged to come join him there, but he insisted she stay out of his way until he got everything set up at the house and finished working out his plan. He explained he had a lot to do and needed to concentrate. She reluctantly agreed.
On the way to the Hotel Del, Cooper stopped by Fredo’s and picked up a large black plastic case that looked like a keyboard carrier. Bay, sitting in the back seat, looked as interested in it as Libby was. Cooper removed a metal panel from the front of the bench seat down by the floorboards and slid the case under the seat cushion. Then he replaced the metal strip and snapped it in place.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What?” Cooper smiled.
“That,” she said as she pointed to the floor at their feet.
“I didn’t see anything.” Cooper leaned over the steering wheel and stared at the floor. “Gum wrappers and a toothpick.”
“No, the thing—”
“First of all, you didn’t see anything, okay? I mean it, Libby. You don’t need to know what’s inside that case. You don’t want to know.”
She sat back and considered her options. She didn’t like secrets. She’d already learned about an ex-girlfriend, but for some reason, the black case beneath her butt bothered her more.
“Is it a weapon?” It wasn’t a wise question, but she had to know.
“No. It is most definitely not a weapon.”
“Then why can’t you tell me what it is?”
“Can we just leave this alone for now?”
“But you would tell me if it was a weapon, right? I mean, wouldn’t I have a right to know if a bomb or something could explode underneath me and blow us both to high heaven.”
“It’s not a weapon or a bomb.”
“If it was, would you lie? Would you tell me a lie?”
“No, honey. I am not lying to you.” He pulled up into the Hotel Del parking lot, parked and leaned over, pulling her into his arms. “It isn’t anything dangerous. Equipment. But I can’t show you and I can’t talk about it, okay? Just leave it be, Libby.”
His expression also contained that resolve she knew so well. There wasn’t any way in hell she’d be able to find out what was in that case until he was good and ready to tell her.
What was he up to?
* * *
Cooper needed to gather some things he kept in a ministorage locker near the base. He’d bought some used surveillance equipment on eBay several months ago, and he befriended an ex-intelligence officer who was freelancing in civilian life and having difficulty making ends meet. Cooper m
anaged to buy some sensitive recording devices and paired them with spare parts he had on hand, as well as some little microphones Fredo had gotten hold of.
Those little flag pins had worked successfully the last time they needed them in the states, when Armando and Mia had been kidnapped. They had Kyle wired up while they monitored everything from several hundred yards away.
He picked up one of the little pins and admired it. Unless you were trained in this sort of equipment, the average person would never notice the little black dot mounted on the underside. The dot was barely larger than the size of a beauty mark on a model’s face.
All he had to do was set up the recording devices in central locations.
He brought his two large, black duty bags into the foyer of the Brownlee home. Bay had followed him and began casing the whole downstairs. He set the bags down on the granite tile and listened to Bay’s tap-tap-tap on the polished stone floors. Outside, the sun had begun to set, bestowing a glow like dripping honey on the leaves in the back yard. He could still see water on the deck next to the steps where he and Libby had dripped after leaving the pool, flush from their lovemaking and completely naked.
Bay came back and sat next to him. “Everything okay, kid?” He padded the dog’s head. “Good boy. Now, you stay here while I work upstairs.”
Bay didn’t obey, and instead climbed the steps with Cooper, who began work in Libby’s bedroom. Libby had left one of her black panties on the floor and her underwear drawer was still ajar. He almost felt like she’d be making her entrance at any moment. The bed was straightened, like they’d left it, but the fact that they’d missed putting away the panties bothered him for some reason.
He heard a sound out front and saw Kyle drive up in his small SUV. He brought several more black cases of equipment Cooper had planned on going over to pick up later. His LPO entered and called out to him.
“I’m up here,” he called.
Seconds later, Kyle set the bags on Libby’s bed, surveyed the room, and whistled.
“So this is how the other half lives, huh? Can you imagine growing up in a house like this, a room like this?” He fingered the dotted Swiss canopy and leaned over to sniff the lacy fabric.
