A Wanted Man (Cold Case Detectives Book 1)

by Jennifer Morey

  She smiled at his crossed legs. “Would you like a glass of wine? There’s other options in the fridge.”

  “No, thanks. What I want is for you to stop running from me.”

  “Don’t ruin my mood. I’ve worked hard to get where I am right now.” She sipped her wine, meeting his eyes as she did.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Not yet. Here.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “You can paint my nails.” Giving him the nail polish, she felt more like herself.

  He took the polish and twisted off the cap, eyeing her. “Is this typical?”

  While he began to paint the first nail, she said. “This isn’t a pity party, and no, not typical.”

  “Life’s curveballs turn you into a girly girl, huh?”

  Hmm. Apparently he knew her better than she thought. She didn’t paint her nails. She wore minimal jewelry and dressed professionally.

  “I wear dresses...”

  “Business attire.” He painted the next nail. He was really pretty good. Steady hands. Hers began to tingle as she watched his manly fingers work.

  “It’s making me feel good.” He was making her feel good.

  He grinned as he finished her hand. “Put the wine down, Scarlett.”

  She laughed lightly and set the glass down on the towel. “Scarlett?”

  “I’m waiting for you to hiccup.”

  “Scarlett drank brandy, didn’t she?”

  “Hold still.”

  She smothered her wine-enhanced humor but couldn’t dim her big smile, especially as she continued to watch him. By the time he finished screwing on the cap to the polish, she no longer smiled. Warmth from more than the wine filled her. The sight of him, or just him in general, radiated heat.

  “You make me feel good,” she said, not caring how sultry she sounded.

  His bold gaze met hers. “How much wine have you had?”

  “Not enough to cloud my judgment.” Leaning toward him, she looped her arms over his shoulders and felt his hands go to her waist. “You make me feel good.” She tipped her head back, wanting him to kiss her.

  “All I did was paint your nails.”

  “Not many men would do that.” Only men sure of their masculinity would. Nothing threatened this guy’s masculinity. Penny found that extremely sexy.

  She watched his eyes begin to smolder, taking in her face as she held nothing back. He could see her desire.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  “Haven’t I already made you feel good?”

  “Yes, but you can make me feel even better. Kiss me.”

  Chuckling, he did as she asked. At first chaste, the passion between them broke free, flames hitting fuel and burning hotter. He joined her in her world of love, a barrier from the day.

  His hands slid up her back, one going to her head, holding her firm as he delved in for more. She ran her fingers through his hair and felt the polish, not quite dry, smeared into the strands.

  He moved back when she did.

  “Oh.” She looked at the ruined nails and then up at him. “Turn your head.”

  He did. She saw a small amount of polish stuck in his hair and began to laugh, covering her mouth.

  Frowning his good-humored disapproval, he reached for a cotton ball and the nail polish remover.

  “We should probably just cut it out,” she said.

  Laughing softly, she got up and went to the bathroom to retrieve a small facial hair scissors, coming back to kneel at his side and snip the red polish away, careful to keep her nails from touching him.

  “There.”

  He turned his head and took in her happy face. And then he looked down. Kneeling so close as she was, her breasts brushed his arm as he moved his hand up and down her leg once. She flexed her fingers where they rested on his chest and dropped the scissors to the towel.

  Lifting his hand, he cupped her face and hovered close to her mouth. “Don’t touch me.” Then he kissed her again.

  Brushing the nail paraphernalia out of the way, he took her wrists and leaned forward over her until she lay on her back. Pinning her hands, he continued to kiss her, his weight coming down on her.

  The smell of polish and wine and man mingled and then faded from her awareness when he moved against her. She tugged her hands, yearning to touch his hard body, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “My nails are dry,” she rasped.

  “Yeah, but they made me want to do this.” Raising the hem of her nightie, he pulled her underwear down one-handed. While she kicked out of them, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, just enough to expose himself.

  Penny tugged her hands again, moaning in protest. He held her down with one strong hand and penetrated her warm, waiting center. She groaned from pure ecstasy now, loving the sweet torture.

  He pressed his mouth to hers as he thrust in deep and withdrew slowly, raising his face to share an intimate look while he moved inside her. She peaked in record time, crying out and arching her back to the power and wonder of sensation only he could strum from her, and therein lay the problem. In the morning, how would she feel?

  Chapter 11

  Penny woke with a languorous stretch, smiling at the lovely morning, sunlight bathing her inner glow. She rolled to her side to see Kadin already awake and propped up on the bed, bare-chested and holding his phone. The tense crease and low slant of his brow indicated a much different mood than hers.

  “Hey,” she said, coaxing him not to go where she needed to avoid, lest all the unhappy things that had occurred over the last few days come rushing forth.

  His brow smoothed and he smiled a little. “Good morning.”

  That was nice. But he seemed to have to force it.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Now she had to force it. “You’re still safe, you know.” Boy, was that ever a lie! How safe would he feel if she told him she was pregnant?

  “Are you okay?” he asked rather than go there.

  She propped herself up like him, tucking the covers to keep herself concealed. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t sound very convincing. It must have been a shock to see him. Your dad.”

  There went her mood. “Yeah.”

  He put his phone aside. “Come here.” He opened his arm to invite her closer.

  She scooted over, rearranging the covers again as she did, until she cuddled against him. He stroked her arm, a sweet gesture, one she felt he truly meant.

  “What bothers you so much about finding him?” he asked.

  She shrugged one shoulder, not really knowing herself. But his asking broke some clarity free. “I guess...” She tipped her head to see him. “I guess...it’s finding out he’s real. Before...he was just a fact. A statistic. My mom got pregnant when she was young and the boy ran off. Who cares?” She blew out a frustrated breath. “He didn’t care enough to find me or keep in touch or even later, when he matured and began to have more kids. I didn’t matter to him, so why should he matter to me?”

  “But it does matter.”

  “Yes. I’ve never worked through it before now. I just accepted that I didn’t have a father and my mother never married.” She felt liberated with that revelation.

  “What if he meant that he thought it was too late to contact you?” he asked.

  She shrugged one shoulder again, tucking her head on his shoulder. “I think it’s too late for me. Why should I get to know my father now? After I had to be the one to find him? I’m fine without him and have been my whole life.”

  “No, you don’t need him.” He smiled slightly, more out of sympathy. “You don’t need anyone.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing bad. You
were raised by an independent woman who taught you strength and the same independence. You don’t have to settle for anyone. You don’t mind being alone.”

  What he said ringing true but at the same time raising her defenses. “But...I don’t want to be like my mother.”

  “What’s wrong with being like her?”

  “She puts on a good front, but...she’s lonely. I think she actually loved Alias.” Penny moved her head to see him briefly. “She surrounded herself with friends and community and kept busy with social activities. And...me.” She’d always known that about her mother, but she’d never really thought of it in this light, how her mother’s loneliness had transferred to her.

  * * *

  All the way back to Rock Springs, Kadin couldn’t stop thinking about what Penny had said—that her mother had been lonely. She’d loved once in her life and hadn’t remarried. The similarity to his own life situation struck a chord. Would he end up the same way? Ever since Arielle had died, he hadn’t considered what he’d do with the rest of his life, not outside fighting crime, a fight that had turned personal after Annabelle’s murder.

  Even now he resisted contemplating his future. Maybe he wasn’t ready. He didn’t feel ready. And yet...

  He glanced over at Penny as they headed for the back door of his office and apartment, unbelievably sexy in tight jeans and a scoop-necked white T-shirt and casual jewelry. Last night and this morning had been so easy. He’d felt a little unsteady this morning, as if he’d lost control and might be slipping back into that tortured state. Then as soon as he and Penny started talking, that had vanished and only their enigmatic connection remained.

  Now he’d swung back to unsteady, uncertain where his future led, if he’d wind up lost again. Structure and single-minded focus had gotten him through that horrible time. He had to have structure. No structure came with a package like Penny. She kept reassuring him, but he sensed her reluctance. They had control issues in common. He needed control to protect himself from his past; she needed it to preserve her independence.

  Because of that he felt awkward with her.

  Inside the dark back entry, Kadin turned on a light as Penny passed him.

  She put her hand up over her mouth and nose. “What’s that smell?”

  Kadin sniffed and didn’t notice anything other than the smell of an old building being shut up for a couple of days. “I can’t smell anything.”

  She turned the handle for the door leading up to his apartment and climbed the stairs. At the top, she hurried for the bathroom. Upstairs.

  Kadin stood in the open area before the dining room, looking up to the loft and hallway. He heard water running and nothing else in the quiet. Passing the dining table and seating arrangement around a gas fireplace in the brick, he stopped in front of the windows, looking down on the street in the afternoon sun, wondering why Penny was still getting sick.

  Hearing her come back downstairs, he turned. She went into the kitchen and retrieved a soda.

  “Feeling all right?” he asked, going to the kitchen island.

  “Yes. Just got a little queasy.”

  Why? he wanted to ask.

  She sipped the soda, looking at him. “Must be my head.”

  She’d smelled something and that had triggered her nausea?

  “I didn’t feel well on the flight,” she said. “All that movement...”

  “Maybe you should go lie down.” Maybe she should go see the doctor again.

  “I’m fine.” She drank more of her soda and wandered out from the kitchen, going into the living room.

  His cell rang. Seeing her rub her forehead and wavering over the strange feeling he had, Kadin went to answer. Seeing the caller ID, he prepared himself for news.

  “Tandy.”

  “Detective Cohen. Can you two meet me at Felicia’s? It’s down the street from Penny’s apartment. I chose this location so it would be convenient for you.”

  Felicia’s was a diner down the block. “Sure. Be there in five.” He disconnected and turned to Penny, who didn’t look enthused about going.

  “Cohen has news. Maybe you should stay here and get some rest,” he said. “You haven’t slept enough.” She’d been running all over the country.

  She shook her head. “I’ll go with you. I want to hear what he has to say.” She headed for the door.

  Kadin followed and they took the elevator to the main floor.

  “Where are we meeting?” Penny asked.

  “Felicia’s.” He held one of the front doors open for her.

  She winced and then swallowed. “We haven’t had dinner yet. Might as well eat there.”

  Was she going to be able to eat anything? As they walked along the street, he studied her. “Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

  “I’m fine. I feel better.” She breathed in slowly. “The air is helping.”

  He supposed she might have nausea for a week or two after getting a concussion. Then, why did he get this strange, niggling feeling that she shouldn’t be nauseated anymore?

  At Felicia’s, he held that door for her, too, and spotted Cohen at a booth table. He dismissed the hostess and went there with Penny in tow. After shaking the detective’s hand, he let Penny sit down first and then sat down beside her.

  “Did the fiber tests come back?” Kadin asked.

  “Yes. The fiber from Sara Wolfe’s crime scene were high-modulus polyester, or LCAP,” he said. “That’s liquid crystal aromatic polyester. They match the samples you gave me.”

  That was good news, but it wasn’t enough to implicate Jax. Kadin noticed how Penny had tensed.

  “The forensics team did an analysis on the dyes found in the samples,” Cohen went on. “Those were a match, as well. We can be confident the fibers came from the same type of rope, but we can’t prove they came from the same rope that the fiber found with Sara Wolfe came from.”

  “It doesn’t place Jax at the scene,” Kadin said, more for Penny’s benefit.

  “No, but it still implicates him, and gives me a good enough reason to keep interrogating him.”

  “What about the DNA?” Penny asked.

  “Jax’s DNA didn’t match the DNA from the crime scene, and he passed the lie detector test.”

  Penny sat back. “He didn’t do it.” She glanced around the restaurant as she thought and then turned back to Kadin and the detective. “If he didn’t, then who did? And what does the rope mean?”

  “The previous owner of Jax’s property?” Kadin suggested.

  “He has an alibi for the time Sara Wolfe was abducted,” Cohen said.

  “When did you learn that?” Penny asked.

  “Just yesterday. Sorry, I meant to tell you, but since it was another dead end, I didn’t see the urgency.” The detective looked at Kadin. “I’ve asked Jax to come in for more questioning tomorrow morning to see if he can reveal anything about the rope fiber. I don’t want him to know you’re there, but I’d like you to hear his statement.” He turned to Penny. “Both of you.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  * * *

  Penny stood beside Kadin, waiting for Jax to be brought into the interrogation room. She still grappled with how Jax had been absolved of any connection to Sara’s murder, but had rope fibers that matched those found at her crime scene.

  Kadin startled her by asking, “How are you feeling today?”

  A flash of alarm caused her hesitation. Was he getting suspicious? He’d seemed so yesterday. She couldn’t blame her concussion for nine months.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she replied. “Yeah. Good.”

  He scrutinized her as the sound of Jax entering the interrogation room gave Penny a reprieve. Detective Cohen thanked him for coming in again.

  “No problem. What can I do for you?” Jax sat down.


  Cohen sat across from him. “We’ve had some developments in the investigation and I’d like to go over your whereabouts the day Sara Wolfe disappeared. Would that be all right with you?”

  “Of course.” Jax relaxed back against the chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands on his lap, all confident executive.

  “Could you go over once again where you were that day? Let’s begin with that morning.”

  “As I’ve said, I went to work that morning and left early to spend time with my son. Before I left, I noticed my truck missing.”

  “What time did you leave work?”

  “I think it was about two.”

  “Last time you said it was one,” Cohen remarked.

  “One. Two. It was early afternoon.”

  Penny glanced at Kadin. Had Jax lied about the time he left work? Did he know something about the murder and had hidden it?

  “After I went home to pack, I drove to Park City and went to a five o’clock movie with my son.”

  “Right. Okay. Did you stop anywhere on your way to pick up your son?”

  “No. I didn’t drive by Miller Elementary School. I’ve told you all this already.”

  Cohen nodded calmly. “Yes, and I appreciate you going over this again. I did check out your disgruntled employee. He had a solid alibi from the time you last saw your truck to when you noticed it missing the next morning.”

  “I didn’t think a disgruntled employee would steal something from me,” Jax said. “Why did you call me in here today?”

  “We have evidence that connects you to Sara Wolfe’s murder.”

  Jax uncrossed his legs and adjusted his posture on the chair. “What evidence?”

  “Would you care to revise your previous statement?” The detective cleverly led Jax without telling him about the DNA test.

  “What? I didn’t kill Sara Wolfe. What evidence do you have? If you tell me, I might be able to help you.”

  “What happened from the time you left work the day of Sara Wolfe’s disappearance and the time you went to the movie with your son?” Cohen asked.

  The rope fibers linked him. That they matched couldn’t be a coincidence.