“Some floggers are good for pinwheeling, which can deliver a variety of sensations from a light breeze to a constant sting.” Using her wrist, she spun the falls in a constant circle. “Turn around and take your shirt off. You can leave your bra on.”
This wasn’t the first time a woman had invited Katrina to take off her shirt. No, it was the way Darcy’s tone made the order gentle and authoritative that gave her pause. She’d definitely picked up a few Domme tricks over the years.
Katrina gestured to the spinning flogger. “Will it hurt?”
Darcy lifted a brow, and a mischievous light entered her eyes. “Do you want it to?”
She wanted to know the gamut of sensation for purely informational reasons. Part of her wanted to refuse, to ask Keith if he would introduce her to this different style because he was her Master. “You said you suck at this.”
“I said it took me a while to get the hang of it.” Darcy frowned and let the falls come to a halt. “You know what? You’re right to be wary. You don’t have permission. There’s nothing worse than disappointing your Master. Here.” She handed the flogger back to Katrina. “You’re wearing shorts. Get a good spin going, and bring it closer to your thigh. You’ll feel the breeze first, and then, when you actually hit skin, it starts as a biting sting. It progresses to a constant, broader sting. It’s always stingy because you’re not stimulating the muscles. Well, unless you have a heavier flogger and you’re closer to your target.”
Katrina twirled it in the air so that the spin was parallel to her body. Once she got a feel for it, she changed trajectory to bring it to a perpendicular orientation. As it came closer to her skin, she felt the breeze. Her skin tingled with electric anticipation. Just a smidge closer, and the small sting of the tips kissed her flesh. Closer still brought the sensation Darcy had described.
Without a doubt, she knew Keith was going to love this. She just didn’t know how to tell him she wanted to practice flogging on him.
Chapter Twelve
Stakeouts were notoriously boring. Hours of waiting in a small space with a partner might be followed by some kind of action. Even when they had their mark’s itinerary, things rarely happened according to plan. More often than not, nothing at all happened.
Tonight was that night.
Of all the people he’d whiled away stakeout hours with, Keith usually preferred Malcolm for company. Usually. This time there was a tension in the air that wouldn’t go away. Both of them were worried about Kat. She wasn’t alone, which removed some of the immediacy of the concern, but it didn’t erase it.
This would have been the perfect opportunity to talk to Malcolm about his relationship with Kat. Mal was essentially stuck with him. If he got mad, which was likely, he couldn’t leave. He’d have to stay and talk it out. But Kat wanted to break the news together. She thought her presence would have a calming effect on Malcolm’s temper, but Keith knew differently. If Mal was going to blow his top, he wasn’t going to censor anything for his sister’s ears, not where Keith was concerned.
“Jordan better beat the crap out of his snitch.” Malcolm adjusted the focus on one of the IR cameras mounted on the exterior of the van. “Because we got nothing tonight. I’m pretty sure all the bad guys are in bed, sleeping.”
“One hour left.” Keith recorded another entry on his log. “Then you can go home to Darcy.”
Malcolm shook his head. “We’re close to Trina’s. I want to go there and check out the surveillance. It worries me that nothing has happened in a week. Somebody broke into her house multiple times in the space of six days, and they stole her underwear. Only sick bastards do things like that.”
The crime scene report had come back. Dustin had slipped copies to both of them. They’d found evidence of semen in her drawer. He’d checked it against Keith’s DNA to rule him out. The weasel had ejaculated on her panties before stealing them. Perhaps he’d realized his mistake after he’d masturbated, and that was why he had stolen her underthings.
Keith only knew that if he got to the jackass first, the man was dead.
“How has she been holding up? My parents said you’ve been over there every night.” Malcolm furrowed his brow. “I know she wants to stay at her place. We can take turns. I’m willing to sleep over there every other night. This has to be putting a serious cramp in your social life.”
Striving for a neutral expression, Keith shook his head. “It’s fine. We’ve been alternating whose house we’re at.” He really didn’t want to get into the sleeping arrangements. Keith had a four-bedroom house, so it was reasonable for Mal to assume that Kat slept in one of the guest rooms. “Besides, if the Friedman brothers prove to be part of Snyder’s organization, then you need to stay close to Darcy.”
Though there had been no threats, Keith knew Malcolm wouldn’t take chances. The memory stick he’d recovered from Darcy’s dishwasher was still yielding helpful leads, albeit in a piecemeal fashion. They were finding that the documents on it were best when used in conjunction with other intelligence.
A key piece of information from one of Jordan Monaghan’s contacts had given them perspective on several puzzling documents. It seemed that Snyder hadn’t been the boss of the organization. He’d been high up in the hierarchy, but there were bigger fish to catch. If they could prove a link between the Friedmans and the Holbrook case, then the scope of the investigation would widen considerably, and they’d be able to use the evidence they had gathered in a more efficient fashion. To that end, Malcolm and Keith were stuck watching for a meeting that so far hadn’t happened, but it had pulled him away from Kat for a whole night.
“I know. That’s why I have Trina there. The girls can watch out for one another. It’s not an ideal situation, but it’s better than leaving any of them alone.” Malcolm tapped his thigh. “Trina’s keeping something from me. Every time I see her, she can’t quite meet my eyes. I think she feels guilty. I don’t want her to feel like this is her fault.”
Keith nodded. He knew that, in addition to everything else, Kat felt like she was a burden. “She’s doing okay. Not great. She’s trying to keep it together for us. I told her she didn’t have to do that, you know, that she can be angry or sad about it.”
Mal pressed his lips together, holding it in the same way Kat did.
Keith resisted the urge to chuckle over the similarity. “You can get pissed too. I’m pissed.”
“Really? Because bored and pissed look the same on you, so I couldn’t tell.”
In lieu of responding, he stared at Malcolm with his bored/pissed expression. “Attacking me won’t help. Dustin is working his ass off to catch the bastard. You and I are protecting her in the meantime.”
“Sorry.” Malcolm glanced at his cell. His jaw was dark with stubble, and he looked beat. “As time passes and nothing happens, I just get worried that we’re not going to close the case and she’ll be living with this specter always looming over her shoulder. It’s not like you can move in and protect her for the rest of her life.”
Keith didn’t see why he couldn’t, but he kept his mouth shut.
“And I know you. After a week of no sex, you get bitchy. I’m surprised you’re not ripping my head off right now.”
This time he shrugged. “Kat is more important than sex.” Then he changed the subject. “So what was up with that text from Darcy earlier? The girls wanted to flog one another instead of watch a movie?”
Malcolm’s mouth opened and closed while his brow pinched in confusion. Finally he shook his head in resignation. “Apparently Amy and Trina want to learn to use the floggers. She wanted to let them practice on her. I said no because she’s pregnant. One misplaced hit could cause problems.”
“Not to mention that you should learn control and try it on yourself before you try it on another person.” Keith strived for an extra dry tone, but he honestly didn’t know what to think. Kat wanted to learn to wield a flogger? Why hadn’t she said anything to him? They were going to have a talk very soon.
&
nbsp; The last hour of their shift was uneventful, right up until the final five minutes when Keith noticed someone sneaking from the apartment building through a ground-floor window. He had the same height and build as their target, but Keith couldn’t get a clear view of the face.
“Mal, we have movement. First floor, four windows from the left. He’s wearing pants that are too small.”
Malcolm leaned closer to the monitor screen. “That’s giving skinny jeans a whole new meaning. Look up, fashion victim. Come on, let us see your face. Damn. Now his back is to us.”
Neither of them wanted to move the van. This close to dawn, people in the neighborhood would assume it was vacant. When the target made it to the corner, he looked back long enough for them to make him.
“That’s Rick. We need to follow the bastard.”
As they watched, Rick Friedman got into a black Audi and drove away. Malcolm followed, leaving a good amount of distance between them. This early on a Sunday morning, there wasn’t much traffic around to provide camouflage.
Keith radioed in to update their status. They followed Friedman to a quiet street in an older neighborhood. The houses, though small, had been kept up nicely. Friedman’s car stopped across the street from the one run-down place on the entire block. Malcolm drove around the block and parked on a cross street that afforded them a view.
A tall man with a slim build got into the passenger side. He wore dark clothes and a hoodie, making it impossible to see what he looked like.
“I hate those fucking things.” Malcolm leaned across the seat for a better look, crowding into Keith.
Keith rolled down the window and propped a night-vision camera on the edge. He snapped a series of pictures, zooming in as far as the technology would allow. “Personal space, dude. You look like you’re about to give me a handjob.”
“You wish.” Malcolm didn’t move. “I was right about you needing to get laid. Take today off. I’ll keep Trina at my house.”
Keith pushed Malcolm back and continued taking photos. The two men concluded their conversation, and the one in the hoodie got out. Keith adjusted his aim to try to capture this new player’s face. Hoodie Man got into another vehicle, and both cars drove off.
“Go down that street. Get an address on the house Hoodie Man came out of.”
Malcolm followed Keith’s order without comment. Keith radioed Jordan and Dustin, both of whom were supposed to relieve them of their watch, and put them on Friedman’s tail. Another pair of agents tailed Hoodie Man. This could end up being a break in the case, or it could just be another night of cat and mouse. None of them would know until it was all over.
__________
Keith didn’t end up having a chance to see Kat until Sunday evening. After checking the surveillance footage at her condo, he and Mal had crashed at Keith’s house, not waking until nearly noon when they both were called in for a strategy session. Hoodie Man had lost his tail, and Dustin had reported nothing happening after he and Jordan tracked Friedman back to his house. Kat had texted him to say she’d left for home, but not to worry because she wouldn’t be there alone.
He’d breathed a sigh of relief. If neither he nor Mal could be there, at least she would have her parents for protection. Papa L might be nearing his seventies, but the man was still formidable.
The strategy session had been taxing. Not only were they under pressure to make sure the Snyder case didn’t unravel in the face of this new information about the Friedmans’ involvement, but they now had a renewed focus on Katrina’s case. The address that Friedman had led them to had turned out to belong to Erin Buttermore. From the general build of Hoodie Man, he could very well have been Aaron Buttermore, Kat’s work friend.
At that pronouncement, Dustin had straightened in his chair and informed them about some files that Aaron had given to Kat, saying that she’d forgotten them on her desk. She’d told Dustin that the files weren’t hers.
Then Jordan had let them know that someone was forging Kat’s signature in the evidence logs, and that some of that evidence had eventually gone missing. It looked like someone—probably Aaron—was setting up Kat to take a pretty hard fall.
But they lacked hard evidence. Keith and Dustin had officially been charged with keeping a close eye on her. Jordan was to follow up with Buttermore. He’d already met with Chief Alder about the issue.
Afterward, Keith and Malcolm sat in Kat’s parking lot, watching to see who came and went in the areas blocked from the cameras. Keith wanted to go in and sweep Kat off her feet. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning when she’d refused to let him drive her to Darcy’s house.
“Nothing’s happening here either.” Malcolm rubbed his eyes. “God, I’m tired. I have a bad feeling about this case. I know the Friedmans are up to no good, but I don’t know what the hell they’re doing with Buttermore. The guy’s always struck me as somewhat of a dumbass.”
Keith tapped his thigh impatiently. “Let’s go inside. I’m hungry. Kat has to have dinner made by now.”
Malcolm grinned as he reached for the latch to open the door. “Now I know why you don’t mind hanging out with her so much. She is a pretty good cook.”
Keith did his fair share of meal preparation, but once again he didn’t say anything. Instead he called Kat to let her know they were both coming up. She answered the door wearing shorts, a loose shirt that she’d tied at one hip, and a weary smile. He felt like he had been away from home for far too long. He wanted to take her in his arms and just hold her, but they hadn’t disclosed anything to Malcolm yet.
“Hi, guys. Come on up.”
After securing the door, he followed Malcolm up the stairs to find nobody there. He wanted to ask, but Malcolm beat him to it.
“Where are Mom and Dad?”
Kat frowned at her brother. “At home? I don’t know.”
“Weren’t they here?”
Keith did a visual sweep of the room, as did Malcolm. He spotted a strange briefcase and a laptop that wasn’t Kat’s. “You said you had company. We assumed your parents were going to be here.”
“Oh.” She went to the sink and poured a glass of water. “No. Aaron came over. We’ve been working all day.”
“Where is he?” Malcolm peered down the hall.
“Bathroom. Want something to drink? I lost track of time, so I haven’t made dinner. I was going to order out.” She breathed that out in one huff and then downed her water.
“Water, thanks. I’m going to use the bathroom in your room.” With that, Mal disappeared down the hall. Keith knew he was going to scope out the rest of the place. Keith’s job was to keep Kat distracted. She didn’t need to know they suspected Buttermore of collusion and tampering, or that they thought he was setting it up to make it look like she was the guilty party.
Keith closed the distance as soon as Malcolm was out of sight. He pulled her close and inhaled the scent of her hair. “You will explain your interest in learning to use a flogger as soon as they’re gone.”
She pushed against him and tilted her head back. “Did you have a nice time with Malcolm?” Her grin suggested that she knew he was going insane with curiosity. “Did you clean your guns and watch a karate movie?”
He couldn’t help it, so he leaned down and planted a kiss on her inviting lips. It was a promise, nothing more. It couldn’t be. He heard a noise in the hall that indicated somebody was coming. Reluctantly he released her just in time for Aaron to come into the kitchen.
“Hey, Agent Rossetti. How’s it going?” Aaron held out his hand, and Keith shook it.
“Not bad. I hear you’ve been pressed into service cleaning out your parents’ basement.” He gave Aaron his best impression of a warm smile, which Mal had warned him wasn’t much friendlier than his usual demeanor. Given the man’s recent suspected activities, Keith congratulated himself for not responding with violence.
Aaron’s expression tightened. “It’s just my mom. My dad took off when I was little. I don’t remember him at all.
She’s getting older now and can’t navigate the stairs. I’m trying to convince her to get her hip replaced.”
Since they’d profiled Aaron that afternoon, Keith already knew everything about Aaron’s background that was part of his record. He used the opportunity to dig for information. “So you were over there cleaning last night? How long did that take you?”
Aaron frowned. “I didn’t keep track. Not too late. Mom goes to bed early. Emphysema wipes her out.”
Keith wanted to ask more questions, but he couldn’t come off sounding like he was interrogating a witness. If Buttermore was working with the Friedman brothers, then he might not be as inept as he appeared.
Kat smiled indulgently. “Aaron went back over this morning to chip away at the mess, and then he came over to work with me after lunchtime. I was just about to call for carryout, Aaron. Did you want to look over a menu? I still owe you a meal.”
Keith fervently hoped Aaron would refuse, and his wish was granted.
Aaron shook his head. “No, thanks. Your bodyguards are here now, so I was going to head out. I think we’re in pretty good shape for next week’s cases.” He gathered up his things, his mind seemingly elsewhere.
“All right. Thanks for coming over, and I’m so sorry about yesterday.” Kat hugged Aaron and saw him to the door.
Keith sent a text to Jordan and moved so that he could listen in on Kat and Aaron. His position put him seconds away if Buttermore should try anything physical. It didn’t seem likely. If he was setting her up professionally, then he wouldn’t risk doing anything that would tip her off or sour their personal relationship. He needed her trust in order to keep screwing her over.
Malcolm came strolling down the hall, a pensive expression on his face. “Bath and bedrooms are clear.” He looked around. “Where’s Trina?”
Inclining his head toward the stairs, Keith whispered, “Seeing Aaron out.”
Mal stepped closer, his eyes scanning the open living and dining areas. “I found men’s briefs in her laundry. Last night, Darcy showed her how to use a flogger. I think Trina has a boyfriend. How the hell is she sneaking him past you?”
Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) Page 26
