Black List_Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

  “Yes,” Storm scooted his chair, closer to hers, almost protectively. “All three women frequented a local sex club called Edge.”

  Tom gulped.

  Dammit. Lucy couldn’t get a read on him. Was he guilty? Or not?

  “I see. And you believe my client also goes to this club?”

  “Yes, we know for a matter of fact he does.” Storm leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “And how did you establish this?”

  Storm shrugged. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Beckett leaned over to whisper in Tom’s ear and the other man nodded.

  “I…met with Naomi a couple of times, but I don’t know the other two.”

  Ha. Gotcha. He’d admitted to something, which was an opening, one Lucy planned on exploiting.

  “And during these meetings, what did you do?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

  Beckett murmured something else and Tom shook his head.

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer the question.” Tom’s face was flushed, and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. Whatever he and Naomi had gotten up to, it must’ve been kinky.

  “And if you’d like to know, get a warrant.” Beckett’s smile was pleasant, but his eyes flashed.

  “And you had no interaction with Christy? Or Betty?” Storm asked, for clarification.

  “None.”

  Okay, this doesn’t make sense. Why admit to knowing one and not the others? If he’d done it, Lucy expected Tom to deny everything.

  “Do you have any other questions?” Beckett glanced between them, black and forth.

  Lucy took an instinctive dislike to the man. He was cocky, pushy, and there was just a hint of cruelty in his eyes.

  “Yes,” Storm said. “Did anyone else at the club play with all three women?”

  Tom pressed his lips together and then glanced uneasily at Beckett.

  Okay. What are we missing?

  Lucy glanced at Storm and he nodded. Clearly, he’d picked up on something strange, too.

  “I’m sorry, but this inquiry is over,” Beckett said, standing up. “If you’d like to speak with Mr. Thomas again, you’ll need a warrant and next time we’ll meet at the FBI office.”

  Oh yeah, he’s definitely onto us.

  Since she and Storm didn’t have much choice, they stood. And it sounded crazy, but Lucy was beginning to suspect Beckett had something to do with Christy’s death.

  They shuffled toward the door, but Beckett blocked the exit.

  “Pleasure meeting you.” He grasped her hand, and inexplicably brushed a kiss on her knuckles.

  Lucy lifted her chin. “I wish I could say the same.”

  “Tell me, are you involved with the other agent?” He nodded to Storm.

  “Yes,” Storm said.

  “No,” Lucy said with a firm shake of her head.

  Storm seethed, and Beckett chuckled. The sound was low, intimate as if they shared a private joke now.

  Yeah, there’s something way off about this guy.

  “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

  When she glanced down at their joined hands, Lucy glimpsed a faint tattoo on his wrist. An infinity symbol.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  ***

  “Oh my God. Beckett killed Christy.”

  Lucy still couldn’t get over it. They’d been in the same room with Christy’s murderer and hadn’t even noticed until the very end.

  They were seated at a table in the Middle Eastern restaurant. Some instrumental, vaguely Arabic music played on the speakers. The waitstaff spoke Turkish, and she listened to them chat, as they bussed tables and wiped them down.

  They’d arrived after the dinner rush, so it wasn’t crowded.

  “Okay, there’s one thing I don’t get.” Storm shook his head. “Why did he use the name, Tom?”

  Lucy shrugged. “It’s a common name, while Beckett would stand out.”

  He mulled it over a moment. “It’s possible. I’m betting people at the club, lie about their identities all the time.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “We need to dig into his life and see what shakes loose.” Storm dipped a piece of pita into the freshly made hummus, which was delicious. “This guy’s too clever. When we go after him, we’ve gotta have all the facts.”

  “Are we trying the FBI agent thing again?”

  “No, he was already suspicious. We’ll have to run an op on this.” He sighed. “I’ll give it some thought after we figure out his vulnerabilities.”

  It was odd, but she took some comfort in that. Storm had been trained to infiltrate a target’s life and find the right pressure point. If anyone could pull this off, Storm could.

  “For now, let’s focus on the meal.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, if you try to work twenty-four/seven, you’ll burn out. The past few weeks, I’ve been pushing myself and it took a toll. For now, we’ve got a solid lead and tomorrow we’ll put together a plan.” He leaned back in his seat. “So, what do you think of the food?”

  His expression practically said, “praise me!”

  “It’s pretty good.” They’d almost polished off a tray of hummus and warmed pita bread, as well as their manakish.

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

  “I like the food we had in Jeddah better.”

  “Me too.” Storm grinned. “Then again, it was authentic cuisine.”

  Neither one of them spoke, and she couldn’t break his gaze.

  “What are you doing, Storm?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, but I can’t seem to stop. We can’t pretend this morning didn’t happen.”

  “I wish we could.” Half-heartedly at least.

  “That particular cat’s way out of the bag. I think about you all the time.” There was a hitch in his voice, as though he were remembering.

  God knows, Lucy wished she could forget the way he tasted, the feel of his hands sliding all over her body.

  “We can’t do this. Ever. It was a mistake, Storm. You just happened to catch me at a vulnerable moment. It’ll never happen again.”

  “Haven’t you heard the old adage about never saying never? Who knows what the next few days might hold?”

  “You won’t be holding anything of mine anytime soon.” She massaged her temples. Lucy could feel the beginnings of a headache taking hold.

  He sighed. “I think the lady doth protest too much.”

  “We should get back to HQ.” Lucy stood, ready to run out the door.

  “Have it your way then.”

  Lucy seriously doubted anything would be going her way.

  Chapter 9

  I’m losing it.

  When she’d gotten back to HQ, Lucy had gone straight to her room.

  Storm was just a few steps down the hall. Lucy tried to concentrate on something else, anything else. She’d read a chapter from a book she was trying to finish, but it didn’t hold her attention. Then, she’d surfed the internet on her phone, but it didn’t work either.

  Maybe you should go see him?

  Why? So, you can sleep with Storm?

  Fantastic. I’m arguing with myself like a crazy person.

  What if he’s changed?

  The thought haunted her. Maybe Storm had really meant what he said. It was evident, he cared about her. But was it enough to forgive him?

  I don’t know.

  She got dressed for bed and slipped between the covers, but all she could think about was his kiss.

  Lucy suppressed a moan as her imagination caught fire. Storm had a way of calling to all of those urges she’d forcibly suppressed. Lucy felt hot all over as she pictured him loving her. For the past few years, sex had been about work, and she hadn’t taken any pleasure in it.

  Since she’d left Hussam, Lucy hadn’t even touched another man. She’d thought her libido had been stripped away, along with her identity, morality, and everything else
she’d lost.

  Lucy was wrong.

  Somehow, Storm had brought her back from the dead.

  Maybe it’s because this relationship would be on her own terms. No one was pushing her into Storm’s bed and expecting her to get intelligence.

  Unfortunately, her guilt didn’t cool her need for him. In fact, it intensified her lust. Forbidden fruit and all of that.

  Lucy was always perilously close to giving in to her desires. She wanted him with an intensity that scared her. And even though he’d betrayed her still, she wanted him.

  What does that say about me? Am I pathetic?

  Lucy couldn’t answer the question.

  If she allowed herself to indulge, Lucy wouldn’t be satisfied for hours, days. Maybe even weeks.

  When Lucy reached beneath the covers, she found herself wet and aching. Her clitoris had grown into a taut little bud. Somehow, her hand found its way between her thighs. When she touched her fingertip to it, she squeezed her legs together, moaning at the contact.

  In her mind’s eye, Lucy pictured Storm stroking her.

  She imagined Storm pressing her back on the bed and holding her arms over her head—stripping her, exposing her breasts to his avid gaze. He would suck them roughly, almost to the point of pain, before he shoved a hand between her thighs and pried them apart.

  Then, he’d thrust his finger…

  She cleared her throat and willed herself not to respond to the mental image, but it was useless. Biting her lower lip to stifle her cries, Lucy rubbed herself, writhing on the bed.

  Once more, she was in the back of his car, the smell of warm leather thick in the air. They’d been talking, flirting and suddenly she’d been on his lap, grinding against him, her mouth welded to his.

  Lucy didn’t last long.

  A few strokes and she was gasping, whispering his name in the darkness.

  I’m losing this battle.

  You can’t do this, not with Storm. Oh, I think I can. And I’ll enjoy the hell out of it.

  Dammit. Lucy was even more confused than ever. At least the orgasm had released some tension.

  Embarrassed, she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, before getting back in bed. Suddenly, she was bone-weary.

  Deciding to try to give sleep another try, she cuddled beneath the covers. Lucy had a long day tomorrow, and a killer to hunt down.

  Exhaustion overtook her and soon, she drifted off to sleep again.

  ***

  Later on in the morning, Lucy walked down the hall.

  She’d already been up for an hour, sneaking in a quick workout and a hot shower. The smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted up the stairs, along with the sound of laughter.

  Storm had built himself a home here. He had family, friends, a career. Truth be told, she was jealous. Lucy loved being a bounty hunter, bringing fugitives to justice, but she missed having a real home.

  She longed to put down roots, develop friendships. It would be nice to have an actual life, something to look forward to, other than work. Lucy was about to head back to her room when a voice forestalled her.

  “Morning,” Mack called. “Come on downstairs, don’t be shy.”

  She recognized the other women at the table, thanks to Storm’s briefing. Although, Mack did a quick round robin introduction. Lucy nodded at everyone and murmured a few polite words.

  Elinor King lifted the coffee pot. “Want some? I made it a little while ago. It’s still hot.” Like her brother, she had red hair and blue eyes.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Ellie poured coffee and Lucy took the cup, wrapping her hands on the porcelain. “Thanks.” She took a big sip, grateful for the caffeine jolt.

  “How’s your case going?” Mack asked.

  Lucy sat beside her. “Our initial lead didn’t pan out, but we’ve got another one.” As soon as Storm woke up, they’d start snooping into Beckett’s affairs.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your friend,” Annie Foster said. She had long brown hair, dark eyes, and an athletic build. From what Storm said, Annie was dating their boss, West.

  “Thanks.”

  When Annie spoke, Mack tensed. Lucy could sense the tension between them, but she let it go. It wasn’t her business.

  “Do you need time away for the funeral?” Mack asked.

  “I think we’ll probably be done with the case by then.” Christy’s family was still putting together the funeral arrangements. Lucy wanted to pay her respects, but she was dreading going to the service.

  Somehow, it would make it all real.

  “If anyone can figure out who killed her, it’s Storm,” Savannah Summers said.

  Lucy had heard of the country music singer before. She was every bit as blonde and beautiful as her pictures. Apparently, she was also dating one of the Black Star guys.

  Hmm. I’m beginning to sense a pattern here.

  “I know. We’re close to solving this thing.” Hopefully, they’d get Christy’s family some closure. They deserved that much at least.

  There was a lull in the conversation and an awkward silence fell over the group. Lucy knew she must be missing something big.

  “Okay, y’all, I’ve had enough.” Savvy stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Mack and Annie, you’ve got to work this out.”

  “Work what out?” Lucy whispered to Ellie.

  Ellie leaned over to whisper. “Here’s the sitch. Mack has a thing for a fugitive named John Doe. They’ve been texting, and he keeps buying her expensive gifts, too.”

  “The John Doe?” Lucy asked, only she’d said it out loud and everyone’s head swiveled her way.

  Lucy winced. “Whoops.”

  She’d contemplated going after the reward herself, but his last known location was somewhere in Canada. She couldn’t risk hopping the border. Since Lucy was technically a fugitive, she wouldn’t press her luck. Border security was extra tight.

  “Look, Annie just expressed her concerns about the situation last night,” Savvy laid a hand on Mack’s shoulder. “She didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “More like, she tried to rip me a new one.” Mack tossed her phone on the table. “I’m not going to apologize. I don’t think he’s guilty.”

  “I know,” Annie said. “But I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I can handle myself.”

  Hmm. Mack and I have a lot in common. Lucy had also learned to rely on her own instincts. However, she thought Mack was way off base. John Doe was guilty as sin.

  “Mack, I’m sorry. I was a total bitch last night,” Annie said quickly. “I acted like Rambo on his period. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  There was a long, tense moment, and then Mack nodded.

  “So, are we good?”

  “We’re great.” The two women hugged each other.

  Lucy drank in the scene.

  Living out of a suitcase didn’t lend itself to deep and meaningful relationships. Even when she stayed with a friend, Lucy didn’t allow herself to get too close, in case the CIA discovered the connection. She didn’t want to put anyone she cared about in harm’s way.

  CIA interrogations were no joke.

  “Since it’s all settled, we can move on to some gossip.” Savvy hopped up on the counter and pinned Lucy with a speculative stare. “Tell us about Storm.”

  Lucy clammed up. “Nothing to tell. We’re colleagues.”

  Savvy pulled a face. “Oh, please. Who are you tryin’ to fool?”

  Lucy wasn’t going to talk about her complicated relationship with Storm in front of a bunch of strangers. Even if she was tempted to get their feedback on the situation.

  “Tell us somethin’ easier. How did you two meet?” Ellie asked.

  “Hey, I know this one,” Mack said, and then she gave the group a condensed version.

  Great. Tell everyone I’m a lousy judge of character. Lucy ducked her head, feeling extra conspicuous.

  “What a dick.” Savvy glanced around the table and all the girls nodded in
agreement.

  Wait. What…? Were they on her side?

  “Storm’s not all bad.”

  “Oh really?” Savvy asked, all smug and full of innuendo. “Do tell.”

  “He took me to dinner last night.”

  And evidently, I’m defending him now.

  “Veerrrry nice,” Savvy said, eyes dancing. “And how was it?”

  She could feel a blush roll up her cheeks. “The food was good.”

  Savvy winked. “Honey lamb, I wasn’t talkin’ about the grub.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s off limits and I’m on my way out of here.”

  No one spoke up, but Lucy got a lot of disbelieving looks.

  “Okay,” Mack said slowly. “It sounds like a sensible decision.”

  Except when it comes to Storm, I’m anything but sensible.

  “What does?” Storm said, walking into the room.

  Lucy gritted her teeth. I swear the man’s part cat.

  “Never mind,” They all said in unison.

  “Okay, knock it off. Do you guys know how disturbing that shit is?” Storm shuddered. “It’s all Stepford Wives.”

  “We should get to work.”

  Before he could answer her, Lucy started trucking down the hall, hoping Storm would follow her, so she didn’t have to answer any more uncomfortable questions.

  ***

  Once again, they sat in the tech center.

  And this time, Lucy still couldn’t concentrate.

  What would’ve happened if she’d knocked on Storm’s door last night? Lucy kept sneaking glances at him, as though she could somehow divine his thoughts.

  “You’re staring,” Storm said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s my turn.” Her lips twitched.

  He swiveled to face her. “What are you thinking about?”

  Us. But Lucy was too much of a chicken to say so.

  “Nothing.”

  The tension was thick in the air. Their feet were a few inches apart.

  Holy crap. Are you thinking about playing footsie with him?

  Yes.

  More than anything, she wanted to touch him, kiss him again. Lucy couldn’t get close enough.

  When Lucy didn’t respond, he laid a hand over hers. “If you ever wanna talk about anything, I’m here.”