Jermy, Marie - Lust in the First Degree [The Andersons 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  Connors put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. He drilled Matt with another of those hot-cold stares. “Okay, so what are the circumstances leading up to the lady’s arrest? What is your name, ma’am?”

  “Darcy Forbes.”

  “Miss Forbes.” Connors’s smile was warm but brief. “Well, Officer Anderson, I’m waiting.”

  “Raven touched her, sir.”

  “Where?”

  “In Rustlers. I mean, on her arm,” Matt hastily added at Connors’s less than amused scowl. “We’d only just arrived at Rustlers. I went to the john. When I came out, Raven was talking to Darcy at the bar. He was standing too close. And then he touched her.”

  “Did anybody else witness this?”

  Matt shrugged. “John Stanford, maybe.”

  “And were you on or off duty at this point, Officer Anderson?”

  “Off.”

  “But you were in uniform?”

  Matt nodded, thankful his cheeks didn’t flush. And if Connors wanted to know the reason for why he wore his uniform, then he could whistle. He didn’t, but a ghost of a knowing smile did pass over his lips.

  “Did Raven hurt you, Miss Forbes?” Connors asked, turning his attention to her.

  “No, he didn’t hurt me.” She shifted on her feet. “I didn’t really feel anything, to be honest.”

  “I see.” Connors raised a brow at Matt but again spoke to Darcy. “Did you know who he was? Mark Raven, I mean.”

  Darcy shook her head. “Not at that time, no. It was only when Matt told him to get his hands off me. Matt said his name.” She straightened her spine. “I know who Raven is, and I know what he did to Matt’s sister Samantha.”

  “Really? Who told you? Officer Anderson here?”

  Matt scowled at Connors’s accusing and somewhat biased tone. Darcy scowled, too. “No. Danny Ferris. I was with him when his father, Ray, telephoned him and told him what had happened. This was a few weeks ago now. Before I’d met Matt.”

  “I see.” Connors seemed to step off his high perch but still didn’t look impressed. “So what happened next, Miss Forbes?”

  “Um, as soon as Matt said the man’s name, I knew who he was. And because I believe scum like him should be behind bars, I punched him on the nose.”

  Matt couldn’t be sure if the corners of Connors’s mouth hitched into a faint smile before he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Raven”—the bastard—“then insisted that I arrest Darcy. Um, I mean, Miss Forbes,” Matt finished. “He said either I did it or he’d call an officer out from Butte. He obviously thought I was on duty. I felt like I didn’t have a choice. So I arrested, Miranda’d, and cuffed Miss Forbes—”

  “Cuffed?” Connors interrupted, his right brow arching in surprise.

  “Yes, he insisted on that, too. The jerk!” Darcy said.

  “Darcy, I know you want to help, but just let me explain things, will ya?” Matt gave Darcy an easygoing smile, and she basically put up and shut up. “Yes, I cuffed Miss Forbes and brought her to the station. Her belongings are recorded in the property book and bagged.” He stood straighter and pleaded Darcy’s case. “Sir, I know Miss Forbes was wrong to assault”—the bastard—“Raven, but he is equally in the wrong for insisting that I arrest her. He only did it to get back at me. You know what he’s like, sir. I believe he will not press charges or even make a statement. Miss Forbes should be de-arrested and freed.”

  Connors released his steepled fingers and stroked his chin. There was one very long silence while Connors contemplated Matt’s case for Darcy. Matt was sure nobody was breathing. He knew he wasn’t until Connors slowly nodded his head and his breath whooshed free. He heard Darcy also blowing out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Yes, I concur, Officer Anderson.” Connors spoke with authority. “You are free to go, Miss Forbes. I will have a word with Mark Raven later and supply him with your profound apologies.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Connors’s mood then dimmed. “As for you, Officer Anderson,” he said to Matt, poking a stern forefinger in his direction. “You have broken a number of police protocols. First one…”

  Matt tuned out. Yeah, he knew he was in the shit here, and Connors was going to outline every single rule broken in agonizing detail. He glanced at Darcy and felt sure her eyes widened with every word spoken by Connors. Damn, he should have taken her home last night. Where had his brain been? Oh, yeah, sharing his boxers with his cock. Thinking about it, though, Matt wouldn’t change a thing. He’d had the time of his life the night before, and Darcy had been fucking brilliant. She still was fucking brilliant, and beautiful and brainy. “Never say never, little bro.” He inwardly swore at his brother’s words and tuned back into Connors’s lecture.

  “…Now I know Raven can be trying, but the fact remains, Officer Anderson, you arrested and read Miss Forbes her rights. She was under arrest, and you then slept with her. What on earth were you thinking?”

  “Chief Connors,” Darcy began, but Matt cut her off.

  His tone was sharper than he’d intended. “Leave it, Darcy. I can handle it. Just go.”

  “Okay. Um, I’ll wait for you outside.” Darcy gave him a smile full of “Let’s fuck some more” promises.

  “Never say never, little bro.” The first part of his brother’s mantra again sounding in Matt’s head was definitely not welcome. “Oh, fuck off! I’ve still gotta fuck Emily Coy.”

  “You selfish prick!” Darcy exclaimed.

  Shit, had he said that out loud? Matt realized he must have because Darcy’s deserved comment at him was accompanied with her stalking from Connors’s office and slamming the glass door behind her. She steamed across the main area and snatched the property bag containing her belongings from off his desk where he’d left it the previous night. The station door was also slammed behind her. Shit! He hadn’t meant it. He didn’t want Emily Coy. He wanted Darcy. She meant a lot to him. He cared for her. He knew he did. As always, Ross was right.

  Matt knew he’d screwed up. He needed to apologize, needed to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, too. He took a step to go after Darcy. However, Connors bolted to his feet, reached out a very long arm across the desk and grabbed Matt by his shirt sleeve.

  “Stop right there, Officer Anderson!”

  At Connors’s barked command, Matt knew his hole of shit had just got shittier. However, quite frankly, at that given time, he couldn’t give a toss. Darcy was important, not the sanctimonious Connors. He jerked free and glared at Connors.

  “I’ve just about had enough of your attitude, Officer Anderson.” Connors paused for a second, and his face clouded further. “I was just going to give you a verbal warning, but do you know what? I’ve changed my mind. You’re suspended. Give me your badge and your gun.”

  Matt blinked at Connors. “What? You can’t do that!”

  “I can. I will. I am. Badge and gun,” Connors again demanded.

  His career was on the line—a career he loved—but without thinking, Matt went one better. He unbuckled his equipment belt and tossed it onto the desk. He left a wide-eyed, openmouthed Connors and marched from the office. Ignoring his hat on the pegs, he flung open the station’s door and smacked straight into the solid wall that was David Thacker, the owner of the B and B.

  Built like a brick outhouse, with a thatch of dark-brown hair and a bushy beard and eyebrows, Thacker always reminded Matt of a grizzly bear. He certainly wouldn’t want to fight with the man. And judging by Thacker’s incensed expression, Matt knew he wouldn’t want to hear what Thacker had to say, either. Thacker’s rivalry with Harrison at the Slumberland Hotel was well-known across Beaverhead County. The paperwork for the complaints and counter complaints of petty theft, petty damage, petty arguments, and anything else petty between the owners of the two hotels was basically a waste of trees.

  Thacker’s voice fairly boomed across the extremely short distance between them. “Ah, Officer Anderson—”

  Matt cut him off. �
�Mr. Thacker. Can’t talk right now. I’m busy.”

  “But this is important. That dirty buzzard Harrison has kicked and splintered my—”

  Matt cut Thacker off again. “Go inside the station. Chief Connors will be happy to take your complaint.”

  “You can take my complaint. I’m standing in front of you.”

  Matt could feel his hot temper starting to boil. Thacker was as insistent as a fly hovering above a large dollop of horse shit. He didn’t have time for this crap. He needed to apologize to Darcy. “I’m off duty. Probably permanently,” he snapped. “Talk to Chief Connors.” He sidestepped and managed to push his way past Thacker’s solid bulk.

  This time, he left a wide-eyed, openmouthed Thacker as he raced around the corner onto First Street. Harrison was behind the reception desk when he entered the Slumberland. “Darcy?” he panted. “Has she been here?”

  Harrison scowled at him. “Checked out, actually.”

  What? Darcy had only been gone, what? Less than five minutes. Fuck, she was fast, and if he wasn’t faster, Matt knew she’d be gone for good. The unpleasant thought made his chest squeeze, and despite the stifling heat, he shivered. He made a quick exit and sprinted down the street and turned into the Slumberland’s parking lot. Darcy’s Jeep was parked at the far end under the shade of a tree. She was just throwing a small overnight bag into the backseat.

  “Darcy! Wait!”

  She looked up, flipped him the middle finger, and slipped into the driver’s seat. He ran over, wrenched the door open, and managed to swipe the keys from the ignition just as she inserted them. He pocketed them. This time it was Darcy who was wide-eyed and openmouthed, but she quickly recovered and raised a clenched fist. He deflected the punch and rather roughly and unceremoniously pushed her into the adjacent seat.

  “You selfish prick!” Darcy screamed, pummeling his chest with solid punches. “Get the fuck out! And give me my fucking keys back!”

  Matt couldn’t help but grin. An angry Darcy was a sight to behold. And fuck, did it turn him on. He caught her hands and yanked them down to her sides. “Hit me all you want, but please, don’t leave.” She stopped wrestling and eyed him steadily. He blew out a long breath. “Darcy, I’m sorry. That crack about Emily Coy? I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then why say it?” she hissed.

  “This is gonna sound lame, but something my brother Ross keeps on at me about entered my head. I was angry with him, not you. It was him I told to fuck off. I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud, though.”

  “And Emily Coy? Whoever she is. You want to fuck her?”

  “No.” Matt shook his head. “Definitely not.”

  “Let me go.” Matt did as requested. “What’s this ‘thing,’” Darcy continued to ask, using her fingers as air quotes, “that your brother keeps on you about?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. But you’re right. I am a selfish prick. I hold my hands up,” he said, doing just that. “Guilty as charged.” He then took hold of her hands and curled his fingers around hers. Even their hands were a perfect fit. “I’ve got it bad. Lust in the first degree.”

  She looked bemused. “What?”

  “Lust in the first degree. I’m crazy about you, Darcy. I must be. I’ve just been suspended, and I couldn’t give a flying fuck.”

  Her mouth dropped into an O shape, and he felt all her anger drain from her body. “Oh, no, Matt. That’s terrible. That’s my fault.”

  He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. It’s mine. All mine.”

  She squeezed his fingers and then released them. “What are you going to do?”

  “Fucked if I know.” Matt ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll wait until Connors has calmed down, then I’ll talk to him…” He trailed off when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a worrying sight at the entrance to the parking lot. Dressed in battle fatigues, a man was aiming what appeared to be an AK-47 straight at them. “What the…! Who the fuck is that?”

  Darcy followed his line of sight. “Omigod! It’s Kurt Forrester, my ex.”

  “Bye-bye, bitch!” shouted Forrester.

  With a yank on the shoulder straps of Darcy’s tank tops, Matt pushed her flat across the seat, covering her body with his own just as automatic gunfire shattered the front windshield. Showered with glass, and with Darcy’s frightened screams ringing in his ears, Matt was made aware of the uncomfortable fact he had no way of returning fire as his own gun was in Chief Connors’s possession. They were sitting targets. It wasn’t exactly a cheery thought and not one he wanted to share with Darcy. She was scared enough. But then incredibly, her screams stopped.

  “Matt, my gun’s in my bag, but I have another in the glove box.”

  For one moment, he stared down into her wide-with-fear eyes before he brushed a kiss across her lips. “You beautiful woman.” Reaching out an arm, Matt opened the glove compartment and withdrew a .44 Magnum revolver. He smiled as he handled the gun, the weight of its deadliness bolstering their dire circumstances. This would give Forrester more than a nasty shock. Hopefully, it would take his fucking head off. He released the safety. “My brother Ross will love you.”

  “Why?”

  “He favors the .44 Magnum. I take it you have a permit for this?” He grinned at her snort. Popping his head up over the dashboard, he aimed the revolver out of the shattered front windshield at Forrester but ducked again when a second burst of automatic gunfire ripped into the Jeep. “We need a distraction,” he said, thinking aloud.

  Matt’s distraction chose at that moment to appear.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” a man shouted.

  Matt knew that voice. Shit, no! Yes, he hated Raven, but shit, no! He popped his head up again. Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion, although in terms of time, it was only a few seconds. But they were the longest seconds of Matt’s life. Forrester’s AK-47 spat lead, and in a spray of red, Raven dropped to the ground.

  Forrester then aimed in their direction again. That’s when Matt heard more shouting. He recognized that voice, too. No! No! No! Mona would never forgive him if Rex Latimer bought the farm. Forrester seemed to be having trouble with his gun, and Matt took his chance. He jumped up, aimed, and fired Darcy’s .44. His shots struck Forrester in the shoulder, spinning the bastard around. He dropped to his knees, the AK-47 clattering to the ground beside him.

  Rex Latimer then ran around the corner, his black vet’s medical bag held across his body. Matt gaped. Did Latimer honestly think a leather bag would protect him from bullets? But when Forrester picked his weapon up, fortune once more smiled upon them. The gun appeared to jam. Then, before Matt could process another thought, Forrester flung the AK-47 away, leapt to his feet, and, in a burst of speed despite his injury, raced from the scene.

  “Omigod. Oh, my fucking God,” Darcy whispered.

  Still lying across the seat, Darcy trembled with shock. Matt shook his own shock aside. Dropping the revolver in the footwell, he bent down and cradled her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed the corners of her eyes, but no tears leaked. “It’s okay. He’s gone now. You’re safe.”

  “Matt! Some help would be appreciated.”

  At Latimer’s yelled request, Matt looked up to where Raven lay on the ground. His face a ghostly white, he appeared dead. Latimer was hunched over him, his hands on Raven’s stomach.

  “Matt!” Latimer again shouted.

  Matt turned to Darcy. “Sweetheart, listen. Rex needs help. Call 9-1-1, okay?” She nodded, sniffed loudly, and then slid a cell from her skirt pocket. Seeing she was all right and in control, he jumped from the Jeep and ran over to Latimer. Raven’s denim shirt was soaked with crimson, and blood was seeping through Latimer’s fingers. A wave of nausea rolled in Matt’s guts. Shit, he’d never seen so much blood. From where he was standing, turning vegetarian like his father and sisters, Latimer, too, had never been so appealing. “Is he…?”

  “No, he’s not dead,” Latimer answered, preempting Matt’s unfinished questi
on. “But we don’t stem this blood and he will be.”

  “What can I do?” Matt asked, dropping down beside Latimer.

  “Press down hard here on his stomach. Like I said, we need to stem the flow of blood. I have some dressings in my bag and some morphine. EMTs?”

  “On their way.” Latimer lifted his hands, and Matt immediately covered the same spot on Raven’s stomach. Blood oozed warm and sticky through the seams of his fingers. It didn’t look good. Raven’s breathing didn’t sound too good, either.

  “Rip his shirt open and put these on. Press down hard.”

  One hand still on Raven’s stomach, he took the number of large square bandages that Latimer handed him and did as requested. Raven’s bloody flesh perforated with lead made Matt’s own stomach roll over. The bandages soon turned red. He glanced up at Latimer. Raven needed a doctor, not a vet. He would have found that funny if it weren’t for the fact that Latimer was now drawing clear liquid from a vial up into a syringe.

  “Fuck, what a fantastic start to the day.”

  Chapter 8

  Darcy smiled gratefully at Phil Harrison for the cup of coffee and took a sip. She hid a grimace. Shit, the brew was strong enough to straighten her Afro twists. It was also very sweet. No doubt Harrison thought sugar was good for shock. Still, it could have been worse. He could have offered her tea.

  Placing the cup on the saucer, she glanced around the dining room of the Slumberland Hotel. Though it was lunchtime, the airy, white-paneled room, which had been set up as a temporary base to interview witnesses, was almost deserted. What guests there were, and who’d asked for lunch, had been shown to tables on the opposite side of the room, away from her and the two FBI agents who were seated with her. Though what with the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor, she couldn’t help but wonder if the diners were shuffling closer in order to eavesdrop.

  “Anything else I can get you for you, Miss Forbes?” Harrison asked kindly. “Something to eat?”