She went upstairs, dumped her briefcase and gun on the dresser, and then noticed that a dress was laid out on the bed. She picked it up. Next to it was a note in Sean’s writing.
Remember when you bought this?
They’d been in San Diego, right after Christmas, and drove up to La Jolla where there were lots of boutiques. Sean had admired the dress in the window and she’d teased him that he should buy it for himself. He’d asked her to try it on and she did. It was perfect—casual and comfortable and classy all at once, a free-flowing blue silky thing that hung shorter in the front than the back. She’d bought it but had never worn it.
She changed into the dress, touched up her makeup, and brushed out her long wavy hair, then went back downstairs expecting to see Sean. He wasn’t there.
I’m dressed. Where are you? she texted him.
Pool house.
Odd. She went outside. A warm breeze whipped around her, soothing and cooling after the blistering hot day. The pool looked inviting, and Sean had turned on all the outdoor lights—both the pool lights and the tiny white lights weaving throughout the trees that surrounded their property.
The pool house doubled as a guesthouse. It was L shaped with a small kitchenette, bathroom, eating area, and a living area that doubled as a bedroom when they had company.
Sean had set the table with heavy blue dishes she didn’t know they had, an assortment of candles, and a bottle of her favorite red wine. Faint music played in the background. But she barely noticed any of that. She stared at Sean in disbelief.
“You’re wearing a tux?”
He grinned, revealing his dimples, and bowed. His hair flopped over his eyes and he pushed it back.
She laughed when he took her hand and kissed it. Then he led her to a chair and sat her down. “Thank you,” she said.
He poured her some wine, picked up his glass, and toasted her. “To the woman I love.”
She held up her glass. “To the man I love.”
He took two plates out of the mini refrigerator—salads he’d already prepared. “You spoil me,” she said.
“Your wish is my command.”
“I’m so hungry, and whatever you cooked smells amazing. And here I thought you could only cook breakfast and spaghetti. Not that I’m complaining—you make the best spaghetti I’ve ever had. Don’t tell my dad that.”
“Never. I want to remain on his good side.”
“You are. It’s Jack you have to worry about.”
The brief flash of panic on Sean’s face had Lucy laughing. It felt so good to laugh.
“I’m teasing,” Lucy said through her giggles.
She ate the salad—Bibb lettuce and blue cheese and walnuts and cranberries. “This is—like a restaurant.”
He feigned hurt. “Are you implying I didn’t make it myself?”
“Of course not. I saw the mess in the kitchen.” She smiled. “It just looks like you took a crash course in food presentation. And it tastes as good as it looks.”
When they were done with the salads, Sean retrieved two plates that had been warming in the oven. He took off the lids and presented them.
“You made jambalaya?”
“You loved it when we went to that restaurant in Sacramento. So I researched different recipes and thought this would be spicy enough for you.”
She tasted. “Oh my God, I’m in heaven.”
Sean was certainly pleased with himself. “I thought it was good, but I’ve been nibbling all afternoon.”
“It’s better than any I’ve had. And I’m not just saying that to stroke your ego.”
“More wine?”
She rarely had more than one drink, but smiled and held up her empty glass.
They talked about everything except work. Sean showed Lucy new pictures of his niece Molly. He told her about Patrick taking a temporary job in New York City and Elle going with him. “What kind of trouble is Elle going to get Patrick into now?” Lucy said.
“She’s good for him.”
“She’s a train wreck. But I’ll reserve judgment.”
Sean laughed. “This is you reserving judgment? I seem to remember Patrick wasn’t too pleased when you and I started seeing each other.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then said, “You got me.” She told Sean about a long, frustrated email from her sister Carina, who was pregnant and due in less than two weeks.
“She’s not handling maternity leave well,” Lucy said. Carina was a San Diego homicide detective and had been on desk duty for the last three months. She had started her maternity leave last month when the doctor told her to stay off her feet after a false labor episode.
“I don’t know a lazy Kincaid,” Sean said.
“She said if it’s a girl, they’re naming her Rosemary—Rose for our mom, Mary is Nick’s mom.”
“Pretty. And boys?”
“Carina wants Nick, Jr., but Nick apparently put his foot down.”
“He’ll give in.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t already peeked at the gender. My sister doesn’t like surprises.”
“That, too, runs in the family.”
“I liked this surprise,” she said and sipped her wine. “I’m stuffed.”
“What? No room for dessert?”
“Maybe in an hour … or three.” She leaned back and finished her wine.
Sean smiled. “It’s chocolate mousse.”
Her weakness was chocolate. “You made chocolate mousse?”
“No. That I bought from Bird Bakery.”
She loved that place. “I’ve never seen chocolate mousse on the menu.”
“It’s a special order. They like me.” He grinned and straightened his bowtie.
“Okay, why all this attention? You made the most amazing dinner. You’re dressed in a tux. You bought my favorite dessert. Favorite wine—” For a split second she thought he was going to give her bad news. Her mind went to the dark side, all the things that could go wrong with them or their families. But he wouldn’t have done all this if it was bad news.
Sean stood up and took her hand. “I know that look, Lucy.” He pulled her up and kissed her. “I want you to feel loved.”
“I do. Every day.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his chest. “You don’t have to cook elaborate dinners to make me feel loved.”
“I know. But that look on your face when you first walked in … I’ll do it again and again just to see the joy in your eyes.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I love you. I will never get tired of saying it, or hearing it.”
Lucy kissed him. “I love you,” she whispered. She kissed him again, lightly biting his bottom lip. “I love you,” she whispered again. She smiled as she kissed his jawline, his neck, behind his ear.
“You do that again and I’ll carry you into the house and have my way with you,” Sean said, pulling her to him.
“This is a house,” she said. She stepped back and pulled the dress over her head. She stood in front of him in her simple black bra and panties and strappy sandals. Maybe it was the second glass of wine, or the flickering candles, or the intimate pool house, but she didn’t feel self-conscious in the slightest. With Sean, she had always felt wholly safe and deeply loved.
She took Sean’s hands and backed into the living area where a mound of throw pillows spilled over the wide couch. She pushed half the pillows to the floor, then pulled loose Sean’s tie with a smile on her face. She took his hands and backed into the couch, pulling him down with her.
No work, no crime, no murder. Just them, alone and together.
CHAPTER NINE
Sunlight woke Lucy for the first time in months. It streamed through the pool house windows at a low angle. Still early, but much later than she was used to sleeping.
She stretched and rolled over to where Sean was sprawled next to her. They were both naked, a throw blanket covering Lucy. Sean had an internal heater, he was never cold. She kissed his bare chest and he wrapped his a
rms around her, pulling her close.
“You know when you kiss me in the morning I get exceptionally horny,” he said, his voice gruff.
“I know,” she whispered and kissed him again.
“If you insist,” he said and pulled her on top of him.
They made love again, a smooth and easy love after a rather wild night. At least wild for them. They’d had sex on the couch, fast and furious, then Sean had fed her the chocolate mousse. That led to a long, slow, and excruciatingly seductive lovemaking that left them both exhausted and unable—and unwilling—to clean up and go inside. Being with Sean made Lucy feel not only loved, but blissfully normal. Wonderfully alive.
Morning sex was a different connection, lazy and fun. Sean held her close when they were both satiated. “We need to shower.”
“I know.”
“And clean up.”
“I know.” She snuggled into him. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Leave? You have to work?”
“No. I don’t want to leave this pool house. I feel like we’re a million miles away from everything and everyone.”
He ran his hand through her tangled mass of hair. “You slept through the night.”
“Yes, I did,” she said with a smile. “Good food, great sex, I think I passed out from sheer pleasure overload.”
“I’m happy to help with that anytime you want, princess.”
“It’s so quiet.”
“There’s no phones, no television, no computer out here. Maybe that’s a good thing.”
She kissed him. “We should do this more often.”
“Agreed. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” He sat up and stretched. “But duty calls.”
“I don’t have to work today.”
“No, but tomorrow is pool-groundbreaking day at the boys’ house. We still have yard work to take care of before the crew can come in and dig a hole.”
“You know you didn’t have to buy them a pool.”
“The contractor gave me a good deal.”
Two months ago, Sean had bought a house for the boys he and Lucy had rescued from the drug cartel, across the street from St. Catherine’s Church. Father Mateo Flannigan, the pastor at St. Catherine’s, had worked with the diocese to create a much-needed program for boys of convicted felons who had no family to care for them. The foster-care system was overburdened and overworked, and these boys had slipped through the cracks and nearly died because of it. Now they had a home, a school, and people who cared about them. It had been Sean’s idea, and he was emotionally invested in the project. Lucy had never loved him more.
He tickled her and jumped up, bringing her with him. He glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Seven thirty A.M. You are a lazy butt.”
“Let’s go take that shower, and we’ll see who’s lazy.”
After showering so long the hot water turned cold, Sean and Lucy cleaned up the pool house, then went inside to tackle the kitchen.
Lucy saw her briefcase on the table with her phone next to it. There were several text messages from Barry Crawford, confirming that they were meeting with Jolene Hayden at 8:00 A.M. on Monday, and then asking that Lucy come in an hour before the meeting. After Jolene, they’d talk to James Everett.
She confirmed, then saw she had a voice mail.
She listened to it. It had come in at nine last night from Tia Mancini. “I have a lead on your girl. Call me.”
“Something wrong?” Sean said.
“No—I’m just glad I left my phone inside.”
“Lucy—I know your work is important. I would have understood if something came up.”
“I know you would, Sean. Barry Crawford, the agent I’m working with on this case, told me I didn’t know how to turn off the job. He’s right, you know that, but last night I wanted to turn it off. I didn’t know that we’d be spending all night in the pool house, but I’m glad we did.”
“You have to work today?”
“I don’t think so. Tia called about the girl we’re looking for. An underage prostitute who was in the room with Harper Worthington when he died.”
“Lucy—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She hadn’t told Sean anything about the case, because last night had been all about them. “Maybe you don’t want to know. I need to learn to compartmentalize.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment.
“Sean?”
“Of course I want you to share with me. I don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Unless—is talking about your work giving you the nightmares?”
“No, of course not. It’s just—last night was incredible. I didn’t want to tarnish it with a homicide investigation.”
He gave her a half smile. “I am pretty incredible.”
“You are.” She kissed him, but her mind was elsewhere.
“Lucy? What is it?”
“Sometimes, I bring the darkness home with me. And … I wonder if that’s all I have inside.”
“Don’t. It’s not true. Inside you are passionate and compassionate, you’re everything I want or need. Lucy, I’m here for you, light and dark. Good and bad. It would hurt more if you didn’t want to share, because I know how you think, how you work. You immerse yourself in your cases. It’s what makes you so good—and what troubles you.” He pushed her damp hair off her face and ran his thumbs down her jaw to her neck. He kissed her.
She returned the kiss and smiled. “You make everything easier for me. And I really do like brainstorming with you, your mind thinks through problems better than anyone I know.”
“I am brilliant, as well as incredible.”
She laughed. “Yes, you are.”
“Lucy, last night wasn’t isolated. We’ve done pretty good for the last eighteen months balancing the dark with the light.”
She sobered up. “But you’re the light, Sean. I’m the dark.”
“Don’t even think that way.” He caressed her cheek. “You can tell me anything.”
“You want to know, don’t you?”
“I want to share everything with you, Lucy. You know that.”
After filling Sean in on the Worthington case over breakfast, she realized that she and Barry had covered a lot of ground yesterday. “So Tia is helping us locate the prostitute. Once we talk to her, I think we’ll finally know what’s going on.”
“But you think he was murdered.”
She hesitated. “Yes. I just don’t know why he was killed. Because he was a pervert? Because of something related to HWI? Because of his wife, the congresswoman? Once we know why he flew to San Antonio on Friday night, I think we’ll have the answers. Hopefully tomorrow, when we interview his daughter.”
“I don’t know if I told you, but HWI offered me a job a few months ago.”
“You didn’t, but yesterday I met the head of security, Gregor Smith. Small world—he mentioned you, after he found out who I was. He was an MP and arrested Jack once.”
“Now that would be an interesting story. But I mention the HWI offer because Smith called me again yesterday afternoon. He didn’t tell me that you’d been to the office, just that he wanted to hire me to test their security and assist in the forensic audit. I accepted, but I didn’t know you were the lead agent. I can back out.”
“First, I’m not the lead agent—Barry Crawford is. Second, I’m not going to tell you to take it or not take it. In fact, it would probably be more of a conflict if I’m involved in the decision making, so I’m recusing myself.” It would be easier on her at work if Sean wasn’t involved with the same cases she was, but at the same time, they worked so well together that she certainly wouldn’t complain if he did take the job.
“All right. I’m meeting with him tomorrow morning.”
She kissed him. “They couldn’t have hired a better consultant.”
“That’s what I said.” Sean winked. “Call Tia, then we’ll go to the boys’ house. If you need to bail on me, that’s fine—but you’l
l have to find some way to make it up to me.” He kissed her. “Like, a full body massage after my long day of hard labor.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah, I would.” He grinned.
Sean went upstairs to change into his grungy clothes while Lucy called Tia.
“Sorry I’m just getting back to you—I just listened to your message,” Lucy said.
“It was Saturday night, hope you and Sean had a night out on the town.”
“Nope, just stayed in, but he cooked.”
“I’d give anything for a man who cooked.”
“You can’t have him.”
“He’s a little young for me. I’m going to be forty at the end of the year. Does he have a single older brother?”
She pictured Kane Rogan, who was an older, leaner, meaner version of Sean. “Yes, he does.”
“I’ll get an intro out of you one of these days. Anyway, I got your message and was surprised I’d never seen the girl before. I know most of the regulars, if not by name then by face. She’s not in the system, at least in Bexar County. I’m widening it to all of Texas, but it’ll take a little more time without a name or prints.”
“SAPD ran all the prints they could get from the motel and nothing popped,” Lucy said. “We’re running them federally, but there’s no criminal. Nothing yet from missing persons.” Lucy sipped her coffee. “You said you had a lead?”
“Maybe. I talked to one of my informants, showed her the picture. She recognized her, said she’s new in town, but doesn’t know anything about her. I have a couple places to check out where she might be. I can do it myself, I don’t want to infringe on your Sunday.”
“I don’t mind.”
“No, seriously—the lead may not pan out. How ’bout this—I’ll check them out, and if I get eyes on her, I’ll call you.”
“Fair enough. I’m doing yard work at the church this afternoon, so I really hope you get eyes on her for more than one reason.”
Tia laughed. “Tell Sean I said hi.” She hung up.
Sean came downstairs. “So, do I have you as my slave all day, or does Tia need you?”
“If you put it that way, maybe I should call her back up and tell her I want to tag along.”
Best Laid Plans Page 8
