by C. D. Hersh
She returned the hug. “I won’t. I promise.”
Releasing her, he squared off against the others. “How do you think a Jane Doe is going to solve your problem? I doubt we can find a double for Alexi.”
“I’ve got a friend in LA who does masks for the film industry. He can make a copy of Alexi’s face and we’ll put it on the body you supply,” Delaney said. “It will take a couple days. We’ll put out the word you decided to have an autopsy. Should give us enough time to get the mask ready.”
“Why not say we’re doing the autopsy and use a closed casket?” he asked. “You could have handled this without me.”
“Because we dinna think the killer would buy it,” Eli said.
Harry frowned at the Scotsman. What did this old man have to do with any of this? “You would think this because?”
Eli’s gaze swept from Rhys to Alexi to Delaney. “Because we think we know who the killer might be and we expect tae see them at the wake or the cemetery.”
Harry scrutinized them in the same order Eli had. “Who? We’ll coordinate our investigations and get the SOB.”
Delaney shook her head. “No. You will stay out of this, except for what we need from you. This is an FBI matter, Harry. Understand?” When he didn’t reply, she pressed him again. “I mean it, Williams. Stay. Out. Of. This.”
Finally, and reluctantly, he nodded in agreement. But he didn’t like it. Alexi was his people, and he protected his own. “I’ll make the arrangement with the morgue. The coroner owes me a favor.”
“Ken ye trust him?” Eli asked.
“Better than I can trust the rest of you after this.” The hangdog expression on all four told him his barb stung. Good. Maybe they’d think twice about keeping him in the dark again. He stared directly at Delaney. “Are we done here? Because I’m ready for the steak we talked about.”
“I thought you would.” She fumbled for words. “You still want to go? After all this?”
“I am a little PO’d at you, but I asked you out to dinner and you said yes. A date’s a date, lady. We can discuss your lying to me over a nice glass of wine.”
Delaney grimaced. “That makes me lose my appetite.”
“Then we’ll make it dessert.” He crossed the room, hooked his arm in hers, and walked her toward the front door.
Alexi gave his arm a pat as he passed her. “Don’t be hard on her. We were all part of it.”
Pausing, he studied her. “Don’t worry, Detective, you will get your dressing down, too.” He gave her a quick hug with his free arm. “I’m glad you’re here to get it.”
“Me, too, Captain. But I’m not in the clear yet.”
That was what scared him the most.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Harry said as Delaney got into his car. “No more secrets.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. That was going to be a tall order to comply with, especially since she thought her FBI line wouldn’t work this time. She concentrated on her skirt smoothing imaginary wrinkles. “I promise you’ll be informed every step of the way with the Alexi scam.”
“Including the suspect,” he said firmly.
“When I know unequivocally who it is you will be the first person I tell.”
He snorted. “Somehow I doubt that, but I’ll settle for third, after Rhys and Alexi. But the old coot Eli had better not know before I do.”
“He might, you know, since he’s staying at Alexi’s.”
Harry started the car and eased out of the driveway. “Why?”
“Old friend of the family, colleague of Baron’s. Seems natural to me.”
“Seems suspicious, if you ask me. He appears out of nowhere right after Baron’s killed, and within three days he’s so tight with Alexi, and Rhys, you couldn’t slip a dollar bill between them. In all the years I’ve known her she’s never mentioned family or old friends. Now she’s got two of them up her butt.”
Delaney huffed. “If you’re referring to me, I’m definitely not up anyone’s butt.”
“Three if you count your daughter.”
“You won’t have to worry about Lila anymore. She’s out of the picture.”
“She’s not coming to the funeral? Or is she in on the scam as well?” He shot her a narrow-eyed glance. “Everyone but me? That stings.”
They hadn’t discussed how to handle Lila’s disappearance. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that Lila was Alexi. She certainly couldn’t say Lila wouldn’t show because the real Lila had been missing for some time. But he sounded irritated, and she didn’t want that. “I mean, after the funeral Lila will be leaving.” Maybe that would satisfy him.
“She doesn’t know Alexi’s not dead?”
“Absolutely not,” she said with utmost confidence.
Her tone must have convinced him, because he smiled. “Good. One less person we’ll have to deal with. Not that I’ve anything against your daughter.” He said the last part quickly. “In fact, maybe we could have lunch together sometime before the funeral.”
“Lunch?” she echoed. “Why?”
“I’ve always thought you could tell a great deal about a mother by meeting her children.”
“Not going to happen, Harry. I keep my private and my work life separate. Safer for my family this way.”
“I understand.” He shrugged easily, the movement telling her she had not seen the last of this topic. “I’ll have to talk to her at the funeral.”
Great! She’d have to school Alexi about Lila. “What part of separation of family and work don’t you get?”
“What part of I-want-to-know-you-better don’t you get?” he retorted.
The reply floored her. She kept secrets from him about someone he cared deeply for, disrupted his office, dressed him down several times, and the man still wanted to know her better? Who was he, really? Obviously, beneath his hard-boiled cop exterior, there was a man longing for a relationship. But what kind?
“Why,” she asked, “after everything, do you want to know me better? I’m not a one-night-stand kinda girl, if that’s what you want, Harry.”
“I’ve had enough one-night-stands,” he said with finality.
“Really?”
A red flush crept over his neck at his confession. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, I find it enlightening. Please, go on.”
“I’ll tell if you will. Got any deep dark secrets about your love life you want to reveal?”
She had dark secrets, all right, but not that kind. “Nope. I’m pretty much a one-man woman, and he screwed someone else. Makes a woman a bit skittish about the rest of the male population.” Not to mention what happened every time she’d tried to tell a man she could become one. They mostly freaked. “You? Besides the many one-night stands you had, how many times have you been in love?”
“First off, I’ve not had many one-nighters. A couple when I was in the service and one after the wife left. I didn’t find them very satisfying.”
She giggled. “Maybe you should have paid more for the women.”
He scowled at her. “Not funny, Delaney. You know what I mean.”
The heat of a blush climbed her neck. “Sorry. You’re trying to be serious and I’m cracking jokes.”
Accepting her apology with a nod, he continued, “As for being in love, real love, only once. The one who left me because of my job.”
“Then we have something in common. I’ve only been in love once. My ex, who screwed the Vegas girl.”
“Sounds as if we’ve both been unlucky in love.” He pulled the car into a restaurant parking lot and shut off the engine. “How are you at cards?”
“What?”
“Cards.” He tipped his head toward the restaurant’s neon sign-Riverside Casino and Lounge.
>
“You know. Five card stud. Blackjack. Strip poker.” His voice dropped to a husky, seductive tone on the last two words.
A vision of Harry stripping heated her and she tugged on her collar and exhaled. “Pretty good, but I haven’t played in a long time.” Especially the last game. A spiral of tingly heat curled between her legs and snaked into her belly. Apparently, she was ready to play it with him.
“Want to see if your luck has changed? You know, lucky in love, unlucky in cards.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
With a hopeful smile, he said, “I’m willing to try the game, if you are.”
She leaned forward and laid her hand on his. He flipped his hand over and grasped hers, raised it to his lips, and kissed it lightly. A thousand bumblebees swarmed in her stomach.
How long had it been since she’d felt this way?
The specters of her alter egos clamored to be heard, and she muzzled them before they had a chance to change her mind. He didn’t have to know everything about her and this wouldn’t be forever. Forever never worked out for her anyway. Besides, she’d spent too many lonely nights and, with Lila missing, her prospects weren’t any brighter. Should she take what Harry had to offer, for the moment, and see where it might go? Keeping him close, in more ways than one, could prove helpful. She could walk away, like she always did, if she thought it wouldn’t work.
“I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “Let’s skip the unlucky part and see where lucky goes.”
Dinner passed pleasantly, with light, flirting banter that made Harry wonder if the twinkle in her gorgeous, laughing eyes was a reflection of candlelight or genuine interest in him. The flickering flame at their table cast a glow on Delaney, highlighting her red hair and softening her classic features. By the time they’d finished dessert, he realized he’d forgotten to ream her out for keeping him in the dark. He hadn’t wanted to do it anyway. After all the verbal foreplay, he hoped there would be an invitation for a nightcap at her place.
He pulled the car into a parking spot in front of her apartment. “Nice digs. I didn’t know they paid FBI agents enough for pricey apartments.”
“It’s my daughter’s apartment.”
“Oh. Is she home?” He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.
Delaney laughed. “No. And yes, I am planning to invite you in.”
He jumped out of the car and ran to the passenger door. “What are we waiting for?”
The door attendant greeted them, opening the heavy polished door. “Evening, Ms. Ramsey.” He acknowledged Harry. “Sir.”
“Has Lila been by?” Delaney asked.
There was a note of hopefulness in her voice that struck him as odd, since he knew she was staying at her daughter’s apartment.
The attendant shrugged. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Delaney looped her arm through Harry’s and tugged him forward. “The apartment is on the fifteenth floor. Walk or elevator?”
He rubbed his stomach. “Should do the steps after that meal, but I’d rather save my strength tonight.”
She grinned at him. “Does it take much energy to lift a glass?”
Harry trailed his index finger along her arm tucked in his. A shudder ran through her. Good. “I had something more in mind.”
She blushed at his innuendo. “Rushing it a bit, aren’t you?”
He stopped, bringing her to a halt beside him. “Am I?” he asked, losing himself in her eyes. The turquoise color seemed to swirl darker in her irises. The motion unsettled him, and he glanced at the front door. “You want me to leave?”
“Uh-uh,” she said with a shake of her head, releasing waves of vanilla.
He breathed deeply. The scent was intoxicating. Hell, she was intoxicating. “Then don’t tease me, Delaney. It’s hard enough already.”
Removing her arm from his, she focused on the terrazzo tiles beneath them. “I’m not trying to tease, just telling you I don’t want to-no, can’t-rush this. I’ve only been with one man, Harry. My ex. He hurt me a lot.”
Harry raised her chin with his index finger. “I’m not him, Delaney. I don’t plan on hurting you. Ever. We’ll go as fast, or as slow, as you need. You have to let me know. Understood?”
She punched the elevator button and smiled at him. “Understood.”
He hoped so, and he hoped faster rather than slower would be her choice. Keeping his hands off her was getting harder by the minute.
Chapter 11
“What do you want to drink?” Delaney asked as she shut the apartment door. “I think Lila has beer or wine.”
“Beer’s fine. Can I help?”
Waving him toward the sofa, she kicked off her heels. “No. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just be a minute.” She bent over a side table and lit a candle. The flame caught, releasing a spicy scent, with hints of cinnamon.
Harry watched her curvaceous bottom with appreciation and followed her sexy meander-which he hoped was for his benefit-as she exited the room, then he went to the plate-glass window dominating one wall. The city’s lights twinkled, their glittering reflections unimpeded by the room’s dimly lit lamps. She had switched on some music in the kitchen and the soft sounds of R&B drifted in. The nervousness melted when he realized she’d staged the room as he would have done for a little make-out. The knowledge confused him as much as it excited him. She was giving off a whole lot of mixed signals. He hoped he could interpret them correctly.
Turning away from the window, he took in the rest of the surroundings. A wide, brown leather sofa, big enough to lie on, dominated the room. A vision of Delaney, naked, sliding under him on the couch slammed into his brain.
Whoa. Rushing it, for sure, Harry. Can’t do that. Yet.
Searching for something to take his mind off the erotic, and very uncomfortable, reaction to his seductive thoughts, his gaze landed on a floor-to-ceiling, built-in bookcase. He crossed the room and perused the shelves. Lila, apparently, was a well-read woman. Volumes of Shakespeare nestled against classics, like Tom Sawyer and Alice in Wonderland, reference books, and best-selling novels. But what caught his attention were the rows of books on magic, vampires, ghosts, Wiccan studies, and shape shifting. Over half of her library was devoted to the supernatural.
He raised his voice so she could hear him in the kitchen. “This is some library your daughter has. Does she believe in all the mumbo-jumbo on her shelves?”
Delaney’s voice floated out of the kitchen, mingled with the tinkling of glass. “What mumbo-jumbo?”
He chose one of the books on shape shifting. “All this supernatural hooey.” He started to open the book. “Who in their right mind believes people can change shapes?”
The sound of crashing glass, followed by an expletive, exploded from the other room. Harry dropped the book on the sofa and dashed into the kitchen. When he hit the tile floor he surfed to the other side of the room on a thin layer of beer, slamming into the counter with a whomp that knocked out his breath.
Delaney gasped. “You okay?”
He hugged his stomach and lifted a soggy shoe. Beer dripped off the leather sole. “I managed to stay upright,” he muttered. “Can’t beat that.” He lifted his gaze to her. Speckles of beer dotted her blouse, skirt, and glasses.
Removing her reading glasses, she squinted and swiped at the spots. “I just bought this outfit.” She yanked the paper towels hanging on the wall. They flew off in waves, swooping over her shoulder and landing at her feet in white ribbons. She kicked at the towels covering her shoes. “Crap!”
He chuckled. She was so vulnerable standing there covered in beer and paper. “Why don’t you go change? I’ll clean this mess.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Better spot that before it stains.”
“Thanks.”
&n
bsp; Harry made the last swipe at the floor as Delaney came into the kitchen wearing a pair of tight jeans and a form-fitting tee shirt. He wolf-whistled.
“Stop it, Harry, or I’ll go put on shapeless sweats.”
“Don’t even think about it.” He wadded the paper towel into a ball and arched it across the room into the trashcan, catching nothing but air on the descent.
“Go get a couple of beers out of the fridge,” she ordered, pointing at the refrigerator. “I’ll get the glasses.”
