by Karen Anders
Discarding the champagne flute, she marched out onto the dance floor. She tapped Samantha on the shoulder and said, “I’m sure you won’t mind if I cut in, dear. I’m sure Ken is getting lonely.”
Samantha stepped back and Kate slid right into Jericho’s arms.
“Nothing I love to see more than a person put in her place,” he said, looking down into her face. “I always knew you had a backbone of steel, Kate.”
“My mother would call it a formidable will.”
“Your mother’s an astute woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Is she in law enforcement, too?”
“No. She cleans houses for people like you.”
“People like me?”
“Rich.”
“That sounded almost accusatory. How do you know that I’m one of those people?”
“I can tell from your expensive taste in Armani suits and Gucci shoes. No prosecutor can afford such items on his salary.”
“Your keen scientist’s eye. No wonder you’re so good at crime scene investigation.”
“So why did you choose prosecution over your daddy’s law firm?”
“You’re so sure of yourself?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“It wasn’t my father’s law firm, but you’re close. An uncle.”
“Hmm. So why a prosecutor?”
“I want to put away bad guys where they can’t hurt anyone else. Get to the truth of the crime and see justice served.”
His answer surprised her. She had always thought of Jericho as a competitor with a killer body and gorgeous face. Sure she knew he was a proficient prosecutor, but to hear his motivation for his intensity in court rocked her.
“I thought you just liked to win.”
“I do like to win, but I want the truth, too.”
They fell silent and Kate rested her face against Jericho’s neck, taking in the scent of him. As he turned, she could see through the dancing couples that Ken and George Mitchell were arguing. It looked like quite a heated battle. Ken’s face was flushed red, his eyes were narrowed and flashing. She watched as he snarled at his father then stalked away.
There was something very tense between Ken and his father. Something that made him very angry.
When the music ended, Jericho maneuvered Kate through the French doors that opened onto a balcony. He turned and shut them against the light and low hum of conversation from the ballroom.
“I think I’d like another dance,” Kate said, feeling all of a sudden boxed in by Jericho’s presence and the closed French doors.
She went past him, but she found herself stopped, pinned by his big body, the heat of his breath on the back of her neck. “Do you think I didn’t notice you in your red dress, Kate?”
The dark current in his voice threatened to pull her under, into heated, unknown depths. She writhed in his tight grasp and the fluttering surge of desire caught her tight in a hot fist. “You’ve never noticed me at all, Jericho. Why do you think I wore the red dress?”
“You mean, you changed your look for me?” Damn, what a turn-on. “But what you don’t know is that I’ve fantasized about you from the moment I met you. You are sleeping, Kate, and I want to be the one to awaken you.”
Kate tried to speak, but her lungs heaved from the shock of his admission and his weight as he pressed her tighter to the wall.
“I thought it prudent to refrain from getting involved with a co-worker,” Jericho said, “But it hasn’t been easy to keep my hands off you.”
A spurt of anger made her reckless. Kate found her voice and said softly, “Who said anything about involvement? I want hot, raw, out-of-control sex.”
Jericho jerked away from her body. The silence between them stretched out. She wasn’t going to move or speak. She was going to torture him. Watch him twist in the flames with that knowing look in her eyes.
Kate shivered at the way his eyes searched hers as if he could see right through her. All the way down to the sweet, restless ache that pulsed inside her, where the wild woman waited, naked and willing and wanton. The knowledge of her deepest, hidden secret was bare in his eyes. He knew perfectly well how much she wanted him. He’d always known.
But it was only dawning on her now, this minute, how much he wanted her.
That turned her on. She tried to remember that this was supposed to be about teasing and begging, but she got lost in the swirl of his sinfully dark eyes.
Jericho gathered the mass of her hair into his hand and buried his face against the rippling strands.
She let out a startled cry as he seized her, hauling her up against the hard contours of his body.
His arms tightened around her and he stared into her eyes. As fierce and intent as if he could read her mind.
His heat scorched her. His muscles firm and hot, burning her through the thin fabric of her dress. His breath was as rapid as her own.
Jericho made a harsh sound deep in his throat and his arms tightened around her with steely strength. It was as if he could read her purpose to only tease him relentlessly, to make him get down on his knees and beg her.
With a mocking slant to his mouth, he fused his lips to hers, a searing, devouring kiss unlike anything she had ever known or imagined. She was dragged into it headlong, intoxicated by his voracious energy, the taste of him almost familiar, yet not. He smelled so good—soap and starch, and a unique smell of his own, warm and enticing, like cinnamon. His jaw was rough; his sensual mouth coaxed hers open. Eager, bold and delicious.
She wanted to writhe against him, to crawl inside his skin, to touch everything, to taste everything. He was so strong, bursting with fierce energy, and she ached with hunger for it. His thick shaft pressed against her, rock-hard, radiating heat.
It was the press of his flesh to hers that brought her shockingly to her own senses. No. This was too easy. She was committed, and hurtling forward into the unknown, but it would be on her terms.
She pulled away from him and stepped back. She opened her mouth, praying that something coherent would come out. “What do you want, Jericho?”
“You.”
“Good. I’ve wanted you for months, but you already knew that.”
A muscle pulsed in his jaw and his eyes narrowed. A prickle of unease mixed into the shimmering, giddy alchemy of her excitement.
Danger.
She wanted to stroke the fine, elegant planes of his face, to soothe the pulsations of need and desire that emanated from him. The scarlet of desire and gold of pleasure flashed across her in dazzling promise like dream images.
“Kate…”
She turned and walked away from him. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she was determined to let him know that she wasn’t a pushover, that he couldn’t play her like a witness on the stand. This time she was going to call the shots.
She turned and gave him a coy look. “It’s your turn to wait.”
3
KATE WAS SMILING as she hailed a cab. Getting into the vehicle when it stopped, she settled onto the back seat.
The look on his face had been priceless.
Kate pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lana, who answered on the first ring.
“I had him eating out of my hand,” Kate said.
Lana laughed. “Looks like we’re going to have to find a new nickname for you. You sound like you’re thoroughly enjoying Mr. St. James’s discomfort.”
“Serves him right.”
“For pretending he doesn’t want you?” Lana asked.
“Yes. Punitive damages for mental and sexual cruelty.”
“Sexual cruelty?” Lana said with a smile in her voice.
Kate giggled. “Okay, so that’s a stretch. I did everything but swing from the chandelier to get his attention.”
“I feel your pain and I think you should make him work for it. Sounds like Jericho usually gets what he wants.”
A thrill went down Kate’s spine. The thought of all
that male intensity trained on her made her both nervous and wet.
Kate’s phone beeped. “Lana, I’ve got another call. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Make sure you call Sienna before you go to bed. She’ll want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
“I will.”
Kate disconnected and said, “Hello?”
She listened intently to the watch commander directing her to a crime scene. When he gave the address, Kate gasped. “Could you repeat that?” she asked. “Thanks, got it.”
She disconnected the call and sat deeper into the seat. There was no need to give the cabbie any other direction. The murder scene was in her building.
THE CAB PULLED UP to her apartment complex and Kate stepped out. There were police cars parked in front, sirens casting a bluish-red glow over the cut stone of the building.
A policeman stopped her. “Residents and police personnel only, ma’am.”
“I’m both, McMasters.”
The officer looked at her and then recognition dawned across his face. His eyes traveled over the bodice of her dress, lingered on her midriff showing through the sheer black cloth and then gaped at her.
“Do you think I could get to the crime scene?” Kate said, rolling her eyes.
“Kate, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Wow! You look amazing.”
“Thanks, McMasters,” she said, laughing as she glided past him, beginning to like her new persona.
Kate entered the apartment building and faced another officer who also gave her the once-over. If this kept up, she was going to get a big head.
Finally she was directed to the first-floor apartment and the homicide detective handling the case.
Sienna Parker, flanked by Tom Sanders, a tall, competent veteran, greeted her at the door. She saw the male appreciation in his eyes, but he was more professional than the beat cops had been.
“Hi, Sienna. What are you doing here?”
“Kate, good to see you,” Tom answered. “She’s on loan from burglary. We’re short staffed.”
“So what do we have?”
“The vic’s daughter came over for dinner and found the apartment unlocked and her mother in the bathroom.” Sienna looked down at her notepad. “A Mrs. Marie LePlante.” She walked into the hall as she talked. “She has an abrasion on her temple, but no other marks on the body.”
“How much blood?”
“Not much at all.”
There was a flurry of noise and her partner stuck his head in the doorway. “Kinda fancy for a crime scene, Kate,” Eric Banner said, looking her up and down.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been hearing it all night. I was at a party.” She waved him off, knowing Eric would keep up the teasing for some time. He was tall, dark and handsome. She was asked by many of her female co-workers if there was anything between them. But Kate wasn’t interested in Eric that way. They were just good friends and had an excellent working relationship. “Has the M.E. been here yet?”
“Been and gone. Said she’s only been dead half hour to an hour. I really like the new look,” he said with a smirk.
“Thanks. I’ll take the bathroom and the vic, Eric.”
He reached out and handed her her kit. “Sure. I’ll take the rest of the apartment.”
“I’ve already had a good look at the vic. I’m going to start talking to the neighbors. You’ll get me your notes when you’re finished?” Sienna asked.
“Yes, but it may take a couple of days.”
“No problem,” Sienna said, and left.
Tom went to walk out the door, but stopped. “I like the new look, too, Kate. Very classy. Don’t listen to Banner.”
Kate smiled at the man old enough to be her father. “Thanks, Sanders.”
He smiled and slipped out the door.
Kate took her time examining the bathroom, noted where the shower doors were, the towels that were lying on the floor and the disarray of the sink. Shards from a broken full-length mirror next to the sink lay on the floor. On closer examination, Kate saw blood on several pieces of glass. The vic had struggled with her attacker. Kate made copious notes on a wire-bound notebook she’d removed from her case. She took her camera from the bag and photographed the whole bathroom, including the broken mirror and the tiny dropletss of blood on the sink.
She opened her kit, and reached for a set of rubber gloves and pulled them on. Grabbing the chalk, she ran a quick line around the body. She examined the fingernails and took scrapings. She paused in her examination of the body for other forensic evidence; she’d have to make sure that she got the clothes bagged and returned to her.
The flap of the robe covered the woman’s neck. Curious, Kate took a pen and pushed the flap back. Faintly, she could see marks just forming on the woman’s neck. Looked as though she’d been strangled, but Kate never jumped to conclusions until the M.E. gave his report.
She picked up each bloody shard from the floor with tweezers and set them in a row to dry. She gathered samples of blood off the sink.
Next, she moved to the shower and took a moment to look around inside. Squatting, she noticed dirt and hair fibers. Using her tweezers, she collected the hair, making a mental note to vacuum in here before she left.
Rising to her full height, Kate rubbed at her neck and rolled her shoulders. She looked at her watch and saw that it had already been three hours since she’d walked into the crime scene. She lifted one foot out of her classy black sandal, then the other. They did great things for her legs and were very sexy, but right now she wished for her comfortable flat-heeled shoes.
She went back to her kit, pulled out her measuring tape and started the tedious job of measuring and sketching every part of the room.
“Hey, you done yet?” The EMT put his head into the room, careful not to walk into the area.
“Yes, you can take the body.”
After securing her kit and her evidence, she walked out of the bathroom to give the two EMTs enough room to maneuver. Eric was in the living room gathering fibers from the rug.
“I need to vacuum the shower.”
“It’s on the kitchen table.”
Kate walked into the kitchen and picked up the vacuum and did what she had to do in the bathroom.
She went back out to the living room just as Ken Mitchell came through the front door.
“What are you doing here?” Kate asked.
“I wanted to know when this apartment would be cleared so that it can be cleaned and rented again. Time is money.” His voice was cool and smooth as if he’d just asked about the weather.
She was surprised to see that he had changed. She knew it was only eleven o’clock and was sure the party would have gone on longer.
His dark linen slacks and loose-fitting white shirt lent him an elegant look, as if he’d just come from a casual gathering at the country club.
He walked deeper into the room and Kate held up her hand. “No further. This is a crime scene.”
Something flashed in his eyes, his mouth pulling into a hard line. Kate had the sense that the glossy veneer of sophistication and charm was a thin coat over a troubled, unstable surface.
Eric slid her a glance and she raised her brows. “The crime scene will be sealed for at least three days.”
“By whose authority?” he countered.
“Mine.”
“In three days?” He glanced at Eric, then back at her.
“See me again and I’ll let you know if it’ll be longer.” She handed him her business card, careful not to let her skin touch his.
Mitchell nodded, accepting the card. He turned to leave.
“Did you know Mrs. LePlante?” Kate asked.
His gaze probed her face, then lowered and inched down her body. Kate’s skin crawled. “Who?”
“The tenant in this apartment. The one who was killed tonight.”
“No. I…uh…didn’t,” he murmured.
Ken opened the apartment door.
“You done here, Eric?” Kate asked.
“Just about.”
“Could you give me a lift back to the office?”
“Hey, I didn’t do nothing! Let me go!”
The shouting from the hall interrupted them and Kate froze as she recognized the voice.
She hurried past Mitchell and saw Tom with his arm across Danny Hamilton’s back. Sienna was close by.
“Tom, what’s going on?” She saw the cuffs in his hands and cried, “Are you arresting Danny for this crime?”
“No. We just wanted him to come down to the station and have a talk. He got agitated.”
“Miss Kate. Help me,” Danny pleaded.
“It’s all right, Danny. Detective Sanders and his partner just want to ask you a few questions.”
“Will you be there?”
His little-boy-lost look nipped at her heart. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Do I get to ride in a police car?” he asked.
Kate bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. “Yes, you get to ride in a police car.”
“I’ll go then.”
Tom nodded his thanks and took Danny out of the building. Sienna squeezed her arm before she followed them.
Eric came into the hall carrying his kit, evidence and vacuum. “Were you just asking me for a ride?”
“Yes, my car is in the shop.”
“Sure.”
She turned to find Mitchell in her path.
“I’m sorry that I ever hired that dummy. If I hadn’t, Mrs. LePlante might still be alive.” He followed Danny’s retreating back but when she expected to see disgust in his eyes, it looked suspiciously like guilt.
“There isn’t any evidence that Danny had anything to do with Mrs. LePlante’s death. Watch your mouth.”
She felt Eric’s hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath to regain her composure.
“Yeah, maybe not, but it doesn’t excuse him for stealing.”
“What do you mean?” Kate demanded.
“There’s been a rash of burglaries in this building and Danny has the key to every apartment. According to the police, there wasn’t any forced entry.”
“This is the first time I’ve heard anything about any burglaries,” Kate said, her forehead creasing. She was beginning to dislike this man even more.
