by Tl Mayhew
Her agreement is only a slight movement of her head as a single tear rolls down her cheek.
“We can talk about the rest later. For now, I have something that needs taken care of.” I reach for her hand and place it on the front of my slacks, running it the entire length of my hard shaft.
Her eyes dart to the lock of the door, but I’m not sure if it’s because she fears someone will come in or she wants out.
I press on her shoulders and my answer comes in the form of her dropping to her knees. Releasing the strap of my belt, the metal buckle jangles as I open my slacks and let her do what she’s best at—sucking my cock.
Chapter 12
Clayton
I’ve been listening to the feed from the bug in the manager’s office for close to four hours, but nothing of significance has been said, and the only thing I’ve learned is his job is fucking boring. Just as I start to think we left the device with the wrong person, a knock on a door crackles though the speaker. I tap on the encasement, and the static clears enough for me to differentiate the voices spilling through.
“Dr. Ackerman, how are you?” The faint squeak of wheels gliding across the linoleum fades, then gets louder, and abruptly stops before a swoosh of air is released.
“Good. And you, Frank?”
“Great, great. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? I can ring Shelly and she can bring us something.” The sound of wood scraping is faint.
“No, thanks. I’m really busy, so if you could just get on with why you called me to your office, I need to get back to the patients.”
“Sure, sure. This shouldn’t take long.” He clears his throat. “I’ll start by saying I’m in no way accusing anyone of anything, but since this was brought to my attention, I felt it was my place to check into it and—”
“Just get to the fucking point, Frank.”
“Right. When they did the autopsy on Mrs. Elizabeth James, it seems there was a significant trace of muscle relaxer in her blood work, though it wasn’t listed on her chart. Obviously, I’m no doctor, but as noted here by the coroner, there was a negative reaction to the muscle relaxer and the other prescriptions Mrs. James was being given, which caused her heart to overwork and eventually fail.”
I work the muscle in my jaw at the mention of Lacy’s mother and the details of her death. My mind drifts to her and the way she reacted at the coffee shop. If it turns out her mother’s death was simply a mistake, she’ll be devastated. That thought makes my chest tighten. I bring my attention back to the speaker as they continue.
“What does any of this have to do with me? Dr. Miller was the medical doctor treating her. I only saw her the few times she was coherent to determine whether she was ready to start psychiatric treatment. She wasn’t.”
“I understand, Dr. Ackerman. However, all of Mrs. James’ medical records are now missing. The soft copy data has been wiped clean from the servers, and no one has been able to find the hard copies.” There’s a brief pause in the audio before Frank speaks again. “Dr. Ackerman, we have a witness stating you were the last one with the hard copy file. Might you know where it is?”
Deep laughter spills from the speakers. “Was all this really necessary? Why didn’t you just call and ask me where the file was? I distinctly remember giving it to Dr. Miller’s assistant, a couple weeks ago, after I signed the psychiatric form stating my services weren’t needed. If it’s missing, I suggest you reach out to her.”
“Very well. We’ll check with his assistant again. Any thoughts on the soft copies?”
“I’m probably the least technologically literate person at this facility. I think you know I prefer working from the hard copies. Had I wanted to know anything about technology, I would have studied it in college, but I didn’t, and the answer is no, I don’t have any thoughts on what might have happened to the soft copies.”
The sound of shuffling filters through the speaker. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Ackerman. Please accept my apologies for pulling you away from your patients. I’m sure you can understand my point of view. When questions are raised about the death of a patient within the care of our facility, there’s always a chance we’re at risk of a lawsuit from the family, and possibly criminal charges.”
“I appreciate you bringing it to my attention. When I get some free time later, I might also place a call to Dr. Miller’s assistant.”
There’s a thud of a door closing, and the sound goes quiet.
The shitty excuse for a desk chair moans as I lean back and replay the conversation between Frank and Dr. Ackerman.
While Elizabeth James wasn’t the reason we placed the device in Frank Callahan’s office, the more intel we gather on any incompetency related to the practices at Magnolia Woods, the more leverage we’ll have should we need it later on. Just the mention of Dr. Miller and foul play is enough to suggest Mrs. Fitzgerald is also very much in danger.
I pull my phone from my pocket and call Deloris to fill her in on what I’ve learned.
She answers on the first ring. “That information about Elizabeth James is surprising yet useful should we get in a bind. It’s unfortunate we didn’t get what we were looking for, but I’ve tapped into their network and should be able to pull Mrs. Fitzgerald’s schedule as well as that of the employees.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. I should have known she’d be listening. “Send me the schedule as soon as you get it. We’ll need to review then determine the best time when the least number of employees will be present.”
“You should have it in the next couple hours. We can meet at the warehouse say, nine a.m.?”
“Works for me. See you then,” I add before the line goes dead.
The task of getting Mrs. Fitzgerald out of that facility unnoticed, and somewhere she can get the care she needs, is going to be a challenge, especially now that I’m on the other side of the law.
Chapter 13
Clayton
With some time to myself, I strip down to my boxers and stretch out on the bed. After the dream last night, I couldn’t get back to the deep, full sleep I so desperately needed. My muscles are tense, and exhaustion is taking over my body, but the events of the day—one in particular—still scroll through my mind.
Her soft tentative lips allowing, responding, then meeting my forceful pace. The way her body pressed against mine—rubbing ever so slightly. My dick hardens and pokes through the slit in my boxers. I grasp my length and glide down, then up, and give it a couple jerks. The aching need for release builds with every stroke, tightening my muscles, and my balls.
My phone rings, halting my hand. I drop my head back, release a deep breath, then lean over, grab it off the nightstand, and place it against my ear without looking at the screen. “Yeah!” I bark out before I’m met with her tentative tone.
“Hi, Clayton. Is now a bad time?”
I raise up in the bed when I realize it’s Lacy and my lips turn up at her question. “It’s never a bad time when you call. Did you manage to make it to work on time? I hope I didn’t keep you too long this morning.”
“You didn’t keep me any longer than I wanted. I enjoyed spending time with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear, although…you left me in quite the predicament.” My voice is deep, and even though she can’t see me, I emphasize my statement with a quick tug of my rock-hard shaft.
“Oh…how so?” Her tone is light and playful.
“I thought I had made that quite clear this morning, but if you need a reminder…”
The silky sound of her exhale sends chills over my otherwise heated skin. “Well, it’s been a busy day, and this morning is a little fuzzy, maybe a reminder is exactly what I need.”
With my hand still on my shaft, her words bring me close to the edge, and mine come out on a growl. “Careful what you’re suggesting. I’m more than willing to make the short drive to your apartment and clear things up.”
“While that sounds enticing—wait, what? My apart
ment? You know where I live? And you’re staying nearby?”
I chuckle at her rapid-fire questions. “Yes, I know where you live, and yes, I’m staying nearby.”
“But how? And why?” Her voice is now full of concern, the playful tone from earlier gone. Along with my erection.
Adjusting myself, my free hand drops to the bed and I sit up to explain. “I’ve had the information since shortly after I saw you at Magnolia Woods…when I took down your license plate.” My deep sigh is audible and a twinge of guilt pinches at my chest. “As I said before, something about you seemed familiar and I needed to know who you were. There’s no need for concern, Lacy. I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of that information—not until now.”
The line is silent for several moments before she speaks again. “I’m not sure what to say. I’m not happy you didn’t mention you had that information, but I trust you, and I’m not so much concerned, just surprised.” The confidence in her tone fades as she continues. “Knowing you can get that kind of information actually brings me to the reason I called. I called to…um…” she sighs. “This is so hard. I need to ask you something—for a favor.”
My brows crease in confusion, curious at what kind of information she could possibly need and on who. “Whatever it is, just ask. I’ll let you know if it’s something I can or can’t answer.”
“I appreciate that you’re even willing to listen to me,” she says, then blows out a breath. “You already know about most of what happened with my mom, but what you might not know is my mom was my world. Dealing with her loss has been difficult, and over the past couple weeks, I just haven’t been myself. And with my breakdown today, I knew I had to take some action, so…” she lets out a deep breath, “I made an appointment for tomorrow, with a therapist.”
The mention of a therapist brings me back to a time when my emotional state was on the edge of depression. Our needs for a therapist are different, but the fact that we both have the need puts us on common ground.
“I can’t say I know what you’re going through, but having worked in law enforcement, I’ve seen and experienced things no one should have to. The fact that you recognize you need to talk to someone is a huge step, Lacy. Understanding how to deal with the feelings of such a loss will help you mourn in a way that’s best for you.” With the phone stuck to my ear, I swing my legs off the bed and head to the mini fridge to grab a water. “But I’m not really sure what any of this has to do with me.”
She lets out a puff of air before responding. “Well, I’m kind of nervous about spilling my mind and soul to someone I don’t know, so I was wondering…well, I mean, I know you used to work for the Colorado Bureau of Investigation so—oh hell…do you know someone who could do a background check on the therapist?”
The bottle of water is inches from my lips, but never makes it to my mouth. Why would someone want a background check on a therapist? My thoughts drift back to the conversation I heard earlier, and I begin wondering if the two are related.
She begins speaking again, but I only catch the tail end of what she’s saying.
“…I realize the therapist is here and you were a detective in Colorado, but I thought since he was in the medical profession, there might be some nationwide database or something. I can only get so much information on the Internet… Clayton? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. If you can get me the doctor’s name, I can initiate some searches this evening.” Air hisses through my teeth as the cool surface of the cheap desk chair meets my back and legs when I take a seat to fire up my laptop.
“Thank you, Clayton. This will really put my mind at ease. The name of the doctor is…” The long pause makes me wonder if she’s reconsidering. When I hear who it is, I wish she had. “Ackerman, Dr. Ackerman.”
The muscle in my jaw ticks as his name permeates my ear. I have a strong feeling whatever I find is not going to be good. From what I heard today, he comes off as a cocky bastard. I don’t want Lacy to have any involvement with him whatsoever. “My searches shouldn’t take but an hour. If you expect to still be awake at that time, I can swing by with my laptop and we can go through the information.”
“Um…that’s pretty late and I don’t want to interfere with your work or anything.”
Her hesitation at my invitation makes my lips quirk upward and my dick come to back to life. “It’s no problem for me. I’m pretty much a night owl, and really, the information shouldn’t be shared over the phone.”
“I hadn’t thought of not sharing the information over the phone. I guess if it’s no trouble, then sure…that sounds good. I’ll make coffee.”
“I’ll text you before I head over.”
“Okay, see you when you get here.” Her response is quiet and unsure, but I also don’t miss the hint of excitement.
As I disconnect the call, Dr. Ackerman’s face flashes on the screen of my laptop. His perfectly groomed salt-and-pepper hair is a stark contrast to the black soulless eyes staring back at me. When I think of those eyes on Lacy, even in a nonsexual way, it makes my stomach churn. With my phone still in hand, I’m tempted to call her and tell her to cancel her appointment with him. Instead, I squeeze the phone so hard; the case cracks in half. “Fuck!”
Chapter 14
Clayton
The last of the information on Dr. Ackerman shows as an unread email on my laptop. I had to make a few calls to gain access to the non-public medical board databases, and for that, I will owe some favors.
When I open the email and skim through, nothing immediately stands out, other than a few attempts at malpractice claims, which isn’t unusual for someone in his field. Once I’ve skimmed to the bottom of the email and don’t find anything of significance, I forward it to Martin, hopeful he will be able to do a more in-depth search. Deloris is also already doing her checks on those who were heard or mentioned through the speaker a couple hours ago.
After throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, I pack my laptop in its case, and text Lacy to let her know I’m on my way. The traffic is light, and it takes less than ten minutes to get there.
Once I pull in front of her apartment complex, I back into a parking spot, shut off the engine, then sit and stare at the five-story white brick building. My pulse beats uncharacteristically fast and my dick twitches in anticipation of seeing her. It’s not like me to have this much anxiety over a woman, but there’s something about Lacy that keeps my nerves on edge, in a good way.
Me: I’m on my way up.
When my phone dings, I half expect her reply to indicate she changed her mind. My lips curve up when it doesn’t.
Lacy: Your coffee is waiting, and so am I.
The elevator bounces to a stop and it’s only a short stride down the hall before I’m lightly knocking on her door. When the door opens, it’s to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
My appreciation of her fine form starts at painted toes and moves over long, tan, exposed legs that disappear into colorful boxers. Her white tank top stretches around the curves of her breasts and buds of nipples poke at the material, begging to be sucked. Her pecan locks are piled on top of her head, except for a few wayward strands that hang down in waves, framing her face. The vision before me has my cock rock-hard and pressing painfully against my jeans.
She clears her throat, pulling my gaze to hers, then gestures for me to enter.
The door slams shut, and I flip the lock then stalk toward her, dropping my bag on the way. My palms tingle instantly from the warmth of her cheeks and when my lips descend on hers and the electricity sparks a fire that quickly burns out of control.
Her hands fist the back of my shirt and mine in her hair. Our tongues swirl in a dance of emotion and lust while our lips bruise from the intensity.
When I free my hands from her hair, I slide my fingertips over the smooth skin of her arms. Her dainty wrists disappear in large hands and I slide them above her head, exposing the swell of her breasts. I nip at the taut skin then releas
e her arms and cup her breasts, before sucking on a hardened nipple through her tank top.
A moan escapes her lips, and she places her hands on my shoulders while arching her back to give me better access.
The sound she emits sends a shockwave straight to my dick, and it expands to a capacity even I didn’t think was possible. I hadn’t planned on taking her against the wall our first time, but if I’m not inside her soon, that’ll be exactly what I do.
I pick her up bridal-style and carry her through the small apartment. “Where the fuck is the bedroom?” She points to a door, and a deep growl vibrates through my chest as her ass rubs against my cock.
I step through the door and kick it closed, then move toward the bed where I place her on her feet. My eyes dance across her face and my lips lower to hers, where they linger for several moments before I spin her around and free her of her shirt.
Her bare breasts appear heavy and the soft, silky-smooth skin glows from the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the room. When I rub my hands over her nipples she takes in a breath and lets it out on a whimper.
My voice, laced with need is deep and gravelly as I ask, “Are you okay with this? If not, I’ll stop. It’ll be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to fucking do, but I’ll stop.”
A nod and an arch of her back is the only response she gives.
I let out a frustrated breath. “Words, Lacy. I need to hear the words.” I’m not sure she realizes how much I’m holding back. I’d never admit it to her, but it’s been awhile since I’ve been with a woman, and this pace is taking every ounce of willpower I’m capable of. On the surface my actions are slow, but on the inside, the fire is like molten lava coursing through my veins and I’m about to explode.
