by Lia Lee
“You know, I’d hate to have to put out a restraining order,” William teased.
Anne looked up. “You need to answer your phone.”
“I put it on silent while I was working. Being harassed by the fuzz is bad for business.”
“Especially yours, I’d guess.” Anne walked to the side of the room. She still couldn’t find the stairway after having seen him use it a few days ago. William might have to admit to needing a cleaning lady in here.
“It’s behind the pile of used textbooks,” William offered. “Not that—Right, there.”
Anne made her way up the curving staircase. “Were you a dragon in a past life? Hoarding books and weird trinkets?”
“I don’t hoard them, love. I sell them.”
“How does anyone find anything in here? I don’t remember your penthouse ever being this messy.” Anne stopped a few feet away from him, keeping her professional distance.
“I don’t keep inventory in my home. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your face almost continuously, even after proving my innocence?” William watched her emerging from the stairs. She hadn’t changed her clothing since that morning. Truthfully, she looked a mess. This case must be quite hard on her. Still, she was lovely, even in her weariness. He sort of adored how she looked when she’d been up too long and drunk too much coffee. The way her hair was escaping her strict bun made him want to run his fingers through it and let it all loose.
“You have proven it. That’s why it would be such a big deal if you were still being tailed.” Anne paused for a beat. “But you aren’t. We checked with highway patrol and our beat cops, and aside from the tail that the captain put on you, which was reporting in regularly until this morning, no one has been following you. And more importantly? No one called in your license last night. There’s zero record of it.”
“Deny it all you like, detective, but I was pulled over, and there’s someone outside my shop right now,” William argued.
“We believe you, Will. What I’m telling you is that the police are officially not following you.” She leaned over slightly. “But someone is.”
William raised his brows. The names of a dozen names of potential enemies rushed to mind. “That’s good to know. Thank you for that, Anne.”
Her perplexed look was warranted. He rarely called anyone by their name or title unless he was mocking them.
“I mean it. Might come as a surprise to you,” he said sarcastically, “but I rub a lot of people the wrong way. No one’s been gunning for me since I got out, as far as I knew, so this intel is critical for me.”
“This intel means that you’re in danger,” Anne insisted. “I suspect, from both whoever has been tailing you and the unsub that took down Pigg. He was literally twice your size, Will.”
“You’ll find that five rounds will take down the best of us, pet. I can hold my own,” William said more defensively than he’d intended.
Anne rolled her eyes and sighed. “Do you really have time for this masculinity pride parade? Isn’t your life worth more than your ego?”
“Dunno.” William rubbed his index finger over his chin. “My ego’s worth a lot.”
Anne pressed her lips together and stared him down.
“You’re adorable when you do that.” William chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I have a few places I can look to find out who’s out to get me. While I’m there, I can see who might be behind your murder. Chances are, you’ll catch the dolt that hired your hit man before you catch the man himself.”
“Where are these places? I’ll go with you.”
“Absolutely not. You walk like a cop. God, love, you smell like a cop right now.”
Anne looked down at herself.
“Coffee and desperation,” he clarified.
“I’ll shower. Don’t be stubborn about this. If you’re really hitting the street to find out information that I’m seventy percent sure that you’ll be sharing with us either voluntarily or with a little pressure and/or flirting, then it makes sense to have a trained officer nearby.”
William turned from her and grabbed his tea, which had gone cold, and took a long sip. “For the life of me, I don’t know what makes you think all of a sudden that I’m this kittenish sop that can’t handle himself. You know who I am, what I’m capable of. Moreover, you know who raised and then trained me.”
“You are always so dramatic! This is a case. My case. I’m the primary here, and I have to make sure that it’s handled properly. So you’re going to bring me along. I’m not sending a civilian in undercover without backup, even if you are the son of a sadistic crime lord as well as the shadiest fucking man in an already shady as fuck city!”
William turned to her with a frown. “This is about your job, then?”
“Mostly, yes.” Anne’s eyes flitted up, then to the left. It was a classic sign that she wasn’t entirely being truthful about something.
Regardless, William would’ve been more suspicious if she hadn’t been hiding something. What was their relationship if they were completely open with one another?
“Right. Well, some of my contacts I’m not lettin’ you in on no matter what, but there is this one thing you can do with me, if you’re up for it.” William smirked at the pleased expression on her face.
“Absolutely. I’ll just check in with Lopez, and we can go.”
“Nope.” William shook his head. “You definitely need to clean up.”
Anne’s nose wrinkled.
“And it’s not until Saturday, in any case.” William shrugged impishly. “Good thing, as I wouldn’t imagine you’d have the appropriate outfit.”
“I know how to do undercover,” Anne protested.
“Not like this.”
Anne was close enough now for him to reach out and touch a loose curl dangling against her neck. She pulled away, but not hard. Just enough that he knew why she was really avoiding his touch.
“How about you come up to my place to prepare? I can guarantee there won’t be any eyes on us that we don’t want there,” he said.
“That’s not…” She trailed off. Not what? Necessary? Appropriate?
“Have you ever been to The Gergitch Gala before?” William tilted his head to the side. “I feel like that might be an event that you’ve missed.”
“A gala? Your big secret place to go skulking for information is a gala?”
“You’re not looking for some grungy dope in a hoodie, pet. You’re looking for the people who are really good at crime. The ones who don’t get caught. The ones who get themselves off.” William gestured to himself with flourish. “You’re looking for people like me.”
Anne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She was considering whether or not she bought this line of reasoning.
William felt a stab of satisfaction as her face softened.
“Fine. We can play dress-up. But we’re just picking out a dress. That’s all.”
“Be at my place in the morning,” he ordered. “Your bun and leather jacket aren’t gonna cut it around this crowd.”
Anne nodded. Just before she turned to go, she stopped herself. “Since the department is no longer investigating you, I can have someone make an official statement to that effect to the press. I know it’s a lot of pressure on you to have that kind of slight to your reputation this early after being released.”
“Don’t. In fact, if you can leak that you’re still investigating me, it would probably be better,” William suggested.
Anne blinked at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Why would you do that? I thought you wanted people to leave you alone? To get on with your life?”
“I do, but if I’m going to do this, I’d rather all the ne'er-do-wells assume I’m one of them. On top of that, the best way to catch a criminal is to let him get cocky. If the man who ordered the murder thinks the police are planning a case against me…” William picked up a pen and twirled it, thinking as he spoke. “I reckon he’ll be so flushed with
success that he’d be more inclined to make mistakes and not guard his secrets.”
Anne seemed to consider that. “Not a bad idea. But it puts a lot of pressure on you.”
“There’s a man out there who stuck a knife in my gut and some unknown enemy following me. Trust me, love, I’m already under a spot of pressure.” William’s tone was dry and a little mocking, but Anne’s eyes widened, and she grimaced. This was not a joke she found very funny.
“I was right,” was all she said.
“You were right.” William rubbed his thumb against the scar on his middle finger. “I know how you love that.”
“I do. I’m not wild about this though.”
She stepped back toward him, and for some reason, he let her take his hand. Her long tapered fingers moved along his, splaying them apart as she looked for the mark. It was unmistakable. The doctors had stitched that up as well as his side, but the former injury hadn’t healed as evenly as the latter. Her fingertips moved over the scar and the bumpy flesh where the stitches had held his finger together. Her eyes fixed on his hand with an almost intimate expression.
“It was before I met you,” he said, although he didn’t know why he felt the need to explain.
“I remember the gash on your side,” Anne said quietly. “Why did the hit man use a knife on you, rather than a gun?”
“Maybe he realized it was more efficient. Maybe I’m bloody lucky. Who the hell knows?” William curled his fingers over, but she didn’t take her hand away. She just held his hand in hers and looked up at him with that intolerably sympathetic expression.
“Did you see him? Any part of him?” she asked.
“Love, if I had, I would’ve given you that information rather than just having you poke at a dead body.” William felt his temper growing shorter. It was incredibly awkward for her to look at him this way. He wasn’t even sure where this empathy had stemmed from. Was it leftover feelings, or just part of her professional interrogation techniques?
So much for not letting her manipulate him.
“You’ve got to get back to work, don’t you?” he said.
Anne let go of his hand. “I do. There’s a lot of work right now. Be careful.”
“I always aim to,” William vowed.
However, that, like many other things he said on a given day, was a total lie. At least where Anne was concerned.
Chapter Eight
Following up with Captain Lopez that evening had been about as pleasant as Anne had expected. He hadn’t been too happy about the option to work with William Spencer as an informant. However, since his information had panned out for the mark on the body, and Jeffers had found three more unsolved murders with the same mark so far, Lopez had given approval to keep working with him as long as he proved useful.
“This case is getting big, Sutton,” Lopez had warned. “Keep it sharp, and keep it clean. If you need anything from the department, let me know. This isn’t the time to try to be a hero. Cases like this are the kind that get Major Crimes real interested once they get wind of them.”
Anne knew that too well. Major Crimes was notable for intervening on cases that were mostly solved, and no one wanted to lose a collar to them. Hence, the reason she had been getting so little sleep this week between the late nights and early mornings.
That morning had been a rough one, overall. She’d overslept. Evie hadn’t wanted to go with the babysitter at all. So she was running late, with hair that was still wet from the shower, and she had to change from her blouse to a tank top that she kept in the car because Evie had spilled sticky juice all over her.
Just the way she wanted to prepare for a glamorous gala.
When she reached the door to William’s suite, Anne felt aggravated and harried, and she hoped they could just pick out a dress quickly so she could get back to the station. Instead, William opened the door, and two things were apparent: his shit-eating grin and a rack of luxurious gowns waiting for her inside.
“When I told you your bun wouldn’t cut it, I didn’t quite mean this,” William teased.
“Don’t start. It’s been a rough morning.” Anne pushed past him and set her bag on the floor. “Can we get on with this?”
“Little sister hog the bathroom this morning?”
“Do I have to try on all of these?” Anne turned to the sea of sparkles and organza before her.
“No.” William shook his head. “Not the yellow. It wouldn’t match your skin tone. You’d look like Big Bird.”
Anne narrowed his eyes.
“Granted, it would be the only big thing about you.”
“At this point, Pigg’s hit man isn’t the one you need to worry about killing you.”
William chuckled. “I just need you to pick a gown, and I’ll have my tailor fit it for you.”
“Fine.” Anne walked up to the dresses. She pulled out a peach gown with a trumpet skirt and large flowers.
“Ah, the Jovani,” William said.
“It looks like someone murdered their curtains.” Anne pushed it back into the rack.
William rubbed a finger along his lips to cover a smile.
Anne peered at the detailing on a long black gown. “This one looks like it belongs to a pregnant teenager going to junior prom.”
“You are the pickiest woman. That’s Sachin & Babi.”
“I don’t care about labels. And I don’t have occasions to wear fancy gowns often. Or go out outside of work by myself.” Anne pulled each gown out to examine it.
“Is Michelle still that needy?” William sat on the arm of his sofa.
“It’s complicated.” Anne pulled out another cream-colored gown. “What the hell is this? Why does it have handprints on the hips and an insane flower on the chest?”
“It’s Alexander McQueen.” William bit his lower lip. “If I’d known you were going to be like this, I would’ve had them send up more dresses. This is golden.”
“Funny, I never knew you were into torture.” Anne pulled up another dress, this one with a Grecian cut. “No, this is golden. Literal gold. There’s less tacky bits on a pre-school art project.”
“Just try something on, love.” William sounded so amused and tender that Anne was tempted to forgive him for putting her through this.
Anne had to admit, though, it was possible that she was just irritated by a lack of sleep and Evie being difficult that morning. She was usually such a good girl, but sometimes she would have fits of stubbornness. No doubt, Anne’s extra work this week was resulting in the behavior from her sweet little devil-angel.
William clicked his tongue. “All right. Go into the bedroom. I’ll select a few.”
“Why would I let you do that?”
“Because I want you to look nice. Go.” William made a shooing motion and turned his eye to the rack.
“Who picked these out?” Anne demanded as she went into the bedroom.
“I gave the woman at the store your size, although admittedly, I guessed what it might be now.”
“Is that a dig?” Anne said dryly. She sat on William’s bed and smoothed her hands over the gorgeous silk damask bedspread. “Are you mocking me?”
“I’m saying I’m not a woman, and I don’t know women’s sizes, which are an enigma wrapped in a mystery as it is.”
“That’s fair, I guess.” Anne lifted her gaze to the Las Vegas skyline. It was utterly amazing from here. She could only imagine what this view was like at night when the lights made the city glow like magic.
William entered with three dresses, one cream with a golden shimmer on the detail and two very light blue. “Try them on. Tell me which one you like.”
“Fine.” Anne took her turn shooing him.
When he had closed the door, Anne slipped out of her clothes and looked down at her mismatched bra and panties. She couldn’t have felt less like someone who should be going to a fancy gala. She slipped into the cream dress and groaned. The fabric was so soft and slinky. She didn’t zip it up, choosing instead to walk o
ver to the mirror to see how it looked on her. The sleek sheath of the dress was overlaid with glimmering leaves and a transparent gauze. It was beautiful, and in it, she felt like a battered, plain-looking doll. She gave the zipper a tug, and it went up until it reached her hips, where the dress was far too snug. William had guessed the size wrong. Or rather, her proportions no longer matched the clothes hanger model figure that designers imagined when coming up with these dresses.
With a sigh, she shimmied out of the dress and put it back on the hanger.
“Any luck?” William called.
“No,” Anne replied with irritation.
“Just keep trying. If this doesn’t work, I can have them bring up another set of dresses.”
Anne glared at the door as though William could see her through it and picked up one of the light blue dresses. It was very simple, and she appreciated that. Black leaves were embroidered over the sheer fabric on top and part of the full skirt. The elegance appealed to her, but she didn’t think she’d look much better in this one.
Funny. A few years ago, she had no problem putting on something short and tight. She hadn’t even really tried dating since Evie was born. The few dates she’d gone on had been casual, and she’d worn jeans and a cute top. That was it.
“Are you dressed?” William called.
“Yes, but please don’t come in here.”
“Those dresses are lovely, and I’m sure you will be. This is my world, pet. Let me help.”
Anne winced at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t get the buttons at the back so the bodice wouldn’t stay up. She turned around and held the back together.
“Okay,” she said in resignation.
William opened the door and looked her over. “That’s a good one. Matches your tone. We’d need to tailor it a bit.” He strolled over. “Let me get the back.”
“Will…”
Anne let her hand drop and looked down, her cheeks burning. William’s strong hands pulled on the fabric, and he fastened the buttons. His hands then moved down her sides, causing her to go rigid.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
