Missing Justice (The Justice Team Book 7)

by Adrienne Giordano

  A vintage Mustang was parked kitty corner of the matching Beamers. Taylor pulled out her phone and walked over to the car, setting a hip against the passenger door as she scrolled through her phone contacts. She needed Matt’s number so she could text him to get his fine ass out here, but she didn’t have it. No doubt Janiece, her cold case team’s computer guru, could get it for her faster than Siri.

  She’d just hit Janiece’s number when a voice cut through the mental riot act going on in her head. Too bad because she’d planned on laying that baby on Matt.

  “Are you stalking me now, sweetheart?”

  Taylor ended the call to Janiece before it connected and did a slow pivot to find the man himself standing on the front steps with that shit-ass, cocky grin on his face. “I’m too tired to be your stalker.”

  “That’s what happens after a night with me and no coffee to recharge your batteries. We should go get some. Or maybe you’re ready for another orgasm to recharge yourself? I’m happy to oblige.”

  Could he say that a little louder?

  Taylor flicked her gaze over his shoulder and prayed no one inside was listening. The door was closed, the windows empty of eavesdroppers, thank God. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. “You are so goddamn arrogant.”

  He smiled big, but kept standing on the steps several feet away as if she had cooties. “Hey, what can I say? Mad Dog loves to pleasure a beautiful woman. Now come over here, stalker, and tell me what you really want.”

  Gah! He was infuriating. Taylor stomped toward him but since he was still on the steps, he towered over her. Not the best strategy for reading him the riot act.

  So she climbed the steps to get face-to-face with those pretty baby blues.

  Good thing her heels gave her four inches, because she still came up short and had to tip her face up to meet his gaze.

  “You’re damn right you owe me coffee,” she said, lowering her voice, “and I’m not totally ruling out a midday quickie, but I want those dental records ASAP. Give me your phone.”

  She held out her hand. He hesitated a moment, his wide smile turning wolfish as he handed her his cell. “Bossy. I like it.”

  Reining in the urge to stomp the top of his foot with one of her heels, she pulled up his contacts and punched in her phone number and email. “Why don’t you have your phone password protected?” she chastised while she typed.

  “I have nothing to hide.”

  Right. His tone suggested he found her scolding humorous. Another urge to stomp on his foot rose and she squelched it. “Here’s my cell number and email. I expect those records by lunchtime.”

  “What about not sharing our cases, Agent Sinclair? That’s a no-no according to your rules. You wouldn’t be offering me another roll in the sack just to bribe me, would you?”

  She looked him square in the eyes, giving him one of his own grins back. She was tired, but she wasn’t going to bite. “You don’t follow rules, do you, Matt?”

  He slid close, brushing his chest against hers and copping a feel of her ass. “Breaking them is so much more fun,” he teased as he leaned down and nuzzled her ear.

  No longer able to hold back, she cuffed him on the bicep. A nice, firm one she’d had the pleasure of squeezing most of the night. “Stop being an idiot. You know what I meant this morning and this is a whole other ball of wax. We’re on the same case. It only makes sense for us to work together.”

  He gave her space again as he took his phone back and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Not sure I see it that way. Seems to me, we’re looking at the same case in very different ways. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you suspect my client is guilty of murdering his first wife.”

  “Is he?”

  Matt’s expression darkened. The smile fell off his face. “You are really something, Taylor.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Another step back. “Maybe you should request a copy of Felicity’s dental records from her dentist. I’ll send you the phone number and you can contact him yourself. Should only take a day or two.”

  She tapped her foot, reeling in her exasperation. He was all flippant, flirty, and downright annoying until she poked at the heart of the matter. “Matt, come on. We both want to wrap up this case quickly and give everyone involved closure, especially your client.”

  “Nice play, Agent, but this teamwork speech is going nowhere.” He scooted around her and headed down the steps, ignoring her plea for him to stop.

  “How’s your plan about not sharing cases working out now, slick?” he called over his shoulder as he crossed the drive to his car.

  Steaming, Taylor let him get in the Mustang and nearly drive away before she swallowed her ego and flagged him down. If he’d investigated Felicity’s disappearance, he might have fresh insight for her. She needed to get in his good graces.

  She wanted to get back in his bed.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  But sometimes a girl needed an orgasm of epic proportions and Mad Dog Stephens could deliver on that front, many, many times a night.

  Passing that up would be a real crime.

  She hustled down the steps and walked over to his car as he rolled down the passenger window. “Ready to play nice, sweetheart?”

  Did she have a choice? “I need a ride.”

  The look on his face told her he knew that and liked having her at his mercy. “So you need a ride, coffee, and Felicity’s dental records. What do I get in exchange?”

  Another wolfish grin. God help her.

  She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. “I put my contact information in your phone, Mr. PI. If you really think the only reason I did that was to get those dental records, then you better go back to being a beat cop.”

  With a smug smile on his face, he shifted from park and jetted out of the driveway.

  * * *

  Matt hooked the left off the Senator’s street and headed back toward DC. His stomach rumbled leading him to believe it might just be lunchtime. He glanced at his watch as he drove. 12:30 on the nose. Lunchtime. His body ran like clockwork.

  He stopped at a traffic light, glanced over at Taylor and found her running her hand along the seam of her seat. He’d just had the leather stitched and if it popped again, someone was gonna get an ass-whooping.

  “Did that seam open?”

  She looked up at him with those sultry green eyes that he’d spent hours refusing to get enough of and the air in the car evaporated. Just gone. This woman. From the first time he’d seen her, she’d been doing that to him. Kicking him in the chest and stealing his oxygen. Now, after their slamming night together, he wanted her. All of her.

  And he’d have her.

  Yep, yep, yep.

  He just had to convince her.

  “I’m hungry,” he said. “You? I’ll buy lunch.”

  If Matt’s memory served, they were only a few blocks from that great food truck he’d accidentally discovered after getting lost on his way to the senator’s that first time.

  “Eat later,” Taylor said. “I have work to do.”

  “Listen, sweetcheeks. You need to keep your strength up. You had a long night. Besides, you’re gonna love this place. It’s grilled cheese on steroids. Every kind you can imagine. Last time, I had the one with bacon and the homemade guac. A-mazing.”

  “What’s the name of the place?”

  Lured in with grilled cheese. Damn, she was easy. Who didn’t love a good grilled cheese?

  He swung a U-ey in the middle of the four-lane street, spotted the cop sitting in his squad on the corner—whoopsie—and gave him a mea-culpa wave.

  Before the cop could light him up, Taylor held her badge to the window, obviously hoping for some law enforcement unity. Maybe they would make a great team. In bed and out.

  “Look at you,” Matt said, “throwing your federal weight around.”

  “Saving your ass, slick,” she said, tossing his own word back at him.

  Oh, how
he loved a woman with a smart mouth.

  “Taylor, we will make beautiful babies together.”

  “Not if I don’t enjoy this lunch we won’t.” She poked her finger in the air. “And it better not take too long. I have things to do. Where is this place?”

  A smart mouth and she didn’t get all pissy about the babies comment. True love. Had to be.

  “It’s a food truck.”

  “A food truck! Forget it. Are you trying to kill me? Do you know that 48 million people a year experience a foodborne illness? How do we know this truck is clean?”

  Whack-job. But…her outrage ranked a solid ten on the cuteness scale. And there was that true love factor to consider. Plus, he liked her. A lot.

  Working on instinct, as in, he had no idea where the truck was, he took a right, hoping it would lead him to the park. Once he found that, he’d be golden. He’d just follow the road until he stumbled upon said food truck with the rampant foodborne illnesses. “With all the awards this truck has won, it has to be clean. Bet on it.”

  She scoffed and dug into her purse for something. “You are such a liar. I’m looking it up.”

  “Go ahead. Peggy’s Food Truck. I guarantee they’ve won awards. I hope.”

  He flashed a grin, blew her a kiss and went back to the road ahead. Where the hell was that park?

  “Ha!” Taylor said. “I knew you were lying.”

  Giving up on her research idea, she shoved the bag toward the floor, bumping the buckle against the dash along the way. After stowing the bag at her feet, she licked her thumb then gently rubbed at the telltale spot where her bag had bumped the dashboard. “Sorry I smudged. This is a nice car.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What year is it?”

  “69 Mustang. Shelby GT500.”

  Taylor let out a low whistle. Whether or not she actually understood the beauty of muscle cars was a mystery but her reaction hinted at an appreciation.

  “Built her myself. Call it therapy.”

  Therapy he’d started when he was twenty-two and his sister had gone missing tossing him into a rogue wave of anger and grief he was completely unprepared—emotionally speaking—to navigate.

  “You built this yourself? Now I’m really impressed.”

  “Thank you. I even added the air conditioning. That took some figuring out. It was fun though.”

  Still searching for that park, hell if he’d admit he couldn’t find it, Matt made a left. There. At the end of the block, a burst of trees, their green leaves shining in the sun. Hope bloomed inside him because Taylor was a smart woman and in the next five minutes she’d figure out he was lost and break his balls.

  Hard.

  “This was my third try. I sold the first two then found this baby. I started with a rusted out frame. That was back when I was in homicide. With those hours, the car took me a couple of years.”

  “You take good care of it.”

  At the end of the block, he braked for the stop sign and looked over at Taylor, holding her gaze for a long second and his body temperature spiked. Is it hot in here? Goddamn, he needed to turn up that self-installed air conditioning. He’d never had sex in this car. Hadn’t even considered it. The logistics alone might be tough, but Taylor? She might drive him to try it. “There’s something you should know,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I take care of everything I love.”

  The car behind him honked, but he kept his gaze locked on Taylor as he ran one finger down her cheek and that was a mistake. A big one. Between the heat and his hands on her, the little man between his legs stirred. Damn, she made him nuts.

  She leaned over, slid her hand over his thigh and smiled. “Mmm, mmm, mmmm. You are good.”

  “Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Spotting something over his shoulder, her eyes popped wide just as her hand reached his inner thigh and he knew the excitement lighting her face had zero to do with his expanding dick. She lifted her hand away—his rotten luck—and poked her finger at his window. “There it is!”

  Half a block down sat a bright yellow truck with a giant red flower on it. “Yep. That’s it.”

  He cruised the block and parked at the curb. Before he could make some—er—adjustments to compensate for the bulge in his jeans, she’d hopped out, not even giving him a shot at getting the door for her. Always in a hurry, this one.

  He checked the door lock and met her at the front of the car. “Next time, I’ll get the door for you. Give me that at least.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “Are we on a date now?”

  “Do we have to be for me to use manners? Next time, I’ll get the door.”

  He wasn’t a caveman. Not by a long shot. In fact, he had no issues listening to women or taking orders from them. Hell, his bosses were both women. Certain things, however, in Matt’s opinion, and that of his mother and father, made a man a man. Opening doors for women was one of them. And he refused to engage in a debate about it.

  To drive that point home, he slid his arm around her waist and guided her across the street before she could argue.

  The lack of cars didn’t make for hazardous conditions, but touching her would never be a hardship and as they stepped up on the curb his mind flashed to the night before. An image of her, flat on her back, naked as a jaybird as he ran his hands over her body, his nicked up fingers sliding across her smooth, creamy skin, filled his mind. He looked over at her and took in the perfect curve of her cheek and the fullness of her wicked mouth that drove him insane all night. For many reasons.

  “What?” Taylor said, casually wiping her lips. “Lipstick smear? Why are you staring?”

  “Other than I think you’re beautiful?”

  At that, she blinked a couple of times, but stayed quiet. Dumbstruck apparently.

  “Matt, I—”

  “Hey, y’all,” A plump woman—Peggy—said from inside the truck. She eyed him a second. “You’re back. It’s been awhile, Matt. Nice to see you.”

  Whatever Taylor was about to say would have to wait. The way it started out, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it anyway.

  “Hi, Peggy,” he said. “I was in the area and craving your guac and bacon.”

  “You got it.”

  Taylor ordered the Muenster melt. With tomato. And soup. So much for not being hungry and the concern over food contamination.

  One of the tables was already occupied by what looked like two moms and a couple of toddlers. The moms stopped talking and watched them make their way to the empty table beside theirs.

  “Ladies,” he said, nodding at them and offering up a smile.

  After settling in, Taylor leaned forward like she had a juicy secret. “The moms think you’re hot. They’ve been staring at you since we walked up.”

  “How do you know they’re not staring at you?”

  That shut her up.

  “You’re funny, Taylor.”

  Their eyes met and a few seconds of silence lingered between them, but with the zinging happening inside him he didn’t need words to know she felt the same way. With Taylor it was all about heat, heat, and more heat.

  Jesus, he could do her right here, right now. No problem.

  “So, Mad Dog, let’s get to know each other.”

  He cracked a smile. “Gee, I thought we already had.”

  “Oh, ha, ha. Never mind that. Tell me one thing about you.”

  Where was this going now? Did she honestly think he didn’t get that she was on a fishing expedition. “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. What are you afraid of.”

  “Blood.”

  She laughed. “Blood! You were a homicide investigator. How are you afraid of blood?”

  “I was a damned good homicide detective too. But hey, everyone is creeped out by something. I can look at it, it just gives me the willies.”

  A tray with two sandwiches, soup, and a couple water bottles appeared in front of them as Peggy sw
ished by on her way to deliver the moms’ orders.

  For a woman who didn’t want to eat, Taylor wasted no time scooping up her sandwich and digging in. He watched her mouth work as she chewed. When her eyes fluttered closed, he knew the explosion of flavor had hit her. He’d had the same reaction the first time. Knew it. She dropped her shoulders and moaned and, oh, jeez. That moaning—and her mouth, that fricking mouth—might put him on his knees, begging for another crack at paradise Taylor-style.

  “Wow,” he said.

  She swallowed her food then straightened up again, ready for another bite. “It’s so good. Excellent choice. Foodborne illnesses and all.”

  That’s it. All over. He set his palms flat on the table, leaned over, half standing and kissed her. Softly. No tongue wars in public. Just enough to take that irreverent mouth, to feel her lips against his and satisfy himself.

  And, God bless her, she responded. Kissing him back, even running her hand along his jaw and cupping his cheek and the hard-on that had been brewing waved a white flag. Toddlers. Right beside them. Cursing his lack of control, he backed away from the kiss, waited for her to open her eyes where he saw the same flashing heat he’d seen in the bar last night. He dropped his gaze to her lips again, thinking about the words that had spilled out while they pounded away on each other.

  “Your mouth is wicked,” he said. Sitting back down, he glanced at the eagle-eyed moms who’d made no secret of their eavesdropping. Since they were listening anyway, he might as well acknowledge it. He angled toward them and jerked his thumb at Taylor. “I love her lips.”

  “Holy moly,” one of the moms said. “You two are hot.”

  Matt smacked the table and went back to his sandwich. “You know it, lady.”

  “Oh, my God,” Taylor muttered. “You’re insane.”

  “So I’m told.”

  In three bites, he inhaled half his meal while ignoring his brain’s reasons he and Taylor should avoid future fuckfests. He’d spent ten years ruminating over his failure to be accepted into the FBI academy. The feds had wounded his ego like no one before and the subsequent self-reflection contributed to his becoming a top-notch detective. As good as he was, that failure still stung and now he had a thing for a woman who not only had his dream job, but she was working cold cases, further sticking that hot knife of envy into his gut.