She tried to look impressed. “I really wish he were more like you…rational, calm, even-tempered.”
“That’s my job.” He held her gaze for a long unnerving moment. “What is it you want from me, Cassandra?”
“From you?”
He nodded, his eyes probing and hypnotic. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I don’t know.” She stared back, rational thought deserting her. She didn’t want to sound too suggestive or pushy, just needy. “I was hoping for some guidance or advice.” Sniffing, she looked away and dabbed at her eyes. They were as dry as a bone but he didn’t know that. “Frankly, Robert, I don’t know what to do.”
He reached for her hand again, and surprised her by urging her to her feet. She stood but he didn’t move back to give her room. He took her face in his hands and asked, “Do you trust me?”
“I suppose,” she said, not wanting to sound too eager. Her heart pounded so hard it echoed in her ears. “Yes, I do.”
“Good.” He smiled and moved his head a fraction.
Hell, was he going to kiss her?
A sudden knock at the door stopped him cold.
He slackened his hold and drew back slightly, annoyance darkening his eyes. “Who is it?”
“Robert? It’s Zelda.”
Panic flashed in his face. He quickly lowered his hands, but before he could retreat, the door opened.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Robert, but—” Zelda stopped when she saw Cassie. She blinked, and then looked at Bask, her eyes filled with confusion and betrayal.
“Zelda.” He hurried across the room and took her arm. “Come in, please.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she murmured, resisting his attempt to draw her inside.
“You haven’t. Cassie needed some advice and now that I’ve given her something to ponder, we’re actually finished.” He looked at Cassie for confirmation.
She shrugged, trying to think fast. Trying not to be swayed by the devastation on Zelda’s face. “Yes, you’ve been helpful. I think Dalton and I—” She broke off and stepped away from the desk. “Anyway, I’ll think about what you said and we can talk later.”
Still looking uncomfortable, Zelda let Bask lead her toward the couch.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Simone’s voice, slurred and caustic, drew everyone’s attention. She stood at the door, a drink in her hand, her hair and makeup-smeared face a mess.
Cassie’s gaze shot to Bask. His face was a mask of panic and anger.
“Later, Simone,” he said sternly. “We’ll talk later.”
“Sure, honey.” She drained the amber contents in her glass. “We always have to talk later. I’m always last in line.” She advanced into the room. “Guess what, lover, I’m tired of it.”
“Simone.” Bask started toward her, but then glanced at Cassie. “We’ll talk again tomorrow afternoon,” he said in a tone that implied he wanted her to leave.
Cassie tried to smile. This was perfect. Simone looked angry and upset enough to spill her guts. And with Zelda as a witness. Perfect. An idea struck her suddenly.
“Let go of my arm, Robert.” Simone jerked away from him.
“I can come back tomorrow, as well,” Zelda said, and scurried around Cassie.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Bask said, his furious gaze fastened to Simone. “Good night, ladies.”
“Wait,” Cassie said loudly. Everyone looked at her. She wished she knew what to say. “You aren’t leaving for Rio tomorrow, are you? Or is that next week?”
“Rio?” Simone snapped her gaze back to him. “You son of a bitch.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Robert said calmly, but he couldn’t conceal the panic in his eyes, the desperate way he tried to tug Simone farther into the room.
“Please, ladies, you need to leave.”
“Robert?” Zelda looked confused and frightened. “When are you going to Rio? You said we’d…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze travelled to Simone and then Cassie.
“Obviously this is a misunderstanding. I’m not going to Rio tomorrow or any other day.” His murderous glare dared Cassie to contradict him. But there was fear in his eyes as well, a desperation that made Cassie uneasy. “I have no idea where you got that information, Cassandra.”
“It all makes sense now.” Simone shook her head, looking dazed. “You’re leaving me and going to Rio. You ungrateful bastard.” She tried to take a swing at him, but Bask caught her arm.
He jerked her hard. “Simone, you’re making a big mistake.”
“My mistake was marrying you, you greedy bastard. Ouch! Let go of me.”
Zelda gasped. “Robert, what is she talking about?”
Cassie stepped in to help free Simone from his clearly painful grip of her arm. “I suggest you let her go before I call Dalton to convince you.”
Something sparked in Bask’s eyes, something far more alarming than fear or panic as his gaze bore into Cassie. “Who are you?”
“Let the lady go.”
Dalton stood in the doorway, his voice low and threatening, his expression almost predatory.
Bask pushed Simone away and made a dash for his desk.
Oh, God. For a gun? Cassie lunged after him. She vaguely heard Dalton yell for her to get out of the way, and then a loud crash startled everyone.
Seconds later three men with guns burst through the door. One of them was the gardener. A badge hung from around his neck. He held it up to Bask. “Robert Bask, you’re under arrest for embezzlement and fraud.”
“UNBELIEVABLE.” Dalton used a pithy four-letter word he’d never used in front of her before. He threw his shirts, unfolded, into his suitcase. “I blew it. I friggin’ blew it. Higgins is going to love this.”
Cassie quietly folded her own clothes and laid them on the bed between their suitcases. She hadn’t said much. Anger radiated from him like heat from a volcano. None of it directed at her, but she hated seeing him beat himself up like he had for the past twenty minutes.
“Shit, I bet Higgins already knows.” He stopped throwing in clothes and stared blankly at the open suitcase, his expression growing angrier. “The son of a bitch had to know Bunko was working on the case.”
“Then why would he assign you?”
“I’d just wrapped up a case. I was free and had the resources….”
“Do you cross departmental lines like this often?”
“We try not to. Anyway, this was about penance.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, and wasn’t sure she wanted to ask right now as she watched him clench his jaw, shake his head in self-disgust.
“Dalton.” She laid a hand on his arm.
He shook her off. “Don’t patronize me, okay?”
She drew back. “Since when am I the enemy?”
“You’re not.” He exhaled sharply and scrubbed at his face. “I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with you.”
Cassie retreated, both physically and emotionally. His remark shouldn’t have stung, but it did. He didn’t owe her any explanation just because they’d made love. She knew the score. Sex had been a perk while they investigated Bask. But now that was over.
She turned back to her suitcase and started packing the clothes she’d folded, trying to shake the melancholy crawling over her.
“Hey, I really am sorry.” Dalton tried to get her attention but she wouldn’t look up. She didn’t trust herself to meet his gaze. “You’re the one who figured out about Simone,” he said. “Got information out of Zelda. Shit, if Hamada hadn’t come in when he had, Simone would have been singing like a canary and Bask would be wearing my handcuffs right now.”
A surge of pleasure loosened her tension and she slanted him a look. He sure didn’t seem any less tense. The self-recrimination in his eyes chilled her.
“I’m the one who screwed up,” he said, grabbing a pair of jeans and slamming them into his suitcase. “A nothing case like this and I screw up.
Unbelievable.”
She stiffened. “I wouldn’t call it a nothing case.”
“Right. A friggin’ first-year academy cadet could have wrapped this fluff case up in two days.”
Hurt and angry, she looked away, struggling for restraint.
Nothing case? No wonder she’d done such a good job. Screw him.
“Cassie?”
“What?” She threw the rest of her neatly folded clothes in a sloppy pile and closed her suitcase. The police had told everyone to vacate the house within fifteen minutes and that was fine with her.
“It’s too late to drive back to Midland.” He reached for her suitcase but she grabbed it first. His gaze narrowed. “There’s a motel about five miles from—”
“I’d rather go back tonight,” she interrupted. “I’ll drive if you’re too tired.”
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
Cassie took a calming breath, stopped and turned around when she got to the door. “You accuse me of being patronizing?
“You tell me what a great job I did—did you mean for a rookie? Or maybe I didn’t do too badly for a dumb blonde?”
“Hey, come on, Cassie.” What he’d said registered in his face. And then regret. Too late. “You know better.”
“I thought I did.” She left and started down the stairs.
She heard voices coming from the first floor and wished like hell she could take another way out of the house.
Zelda and Harvey and Tom and Kathy all waited with their suitcases in the parlor. A pale and stricken Mary Jane sat in the corner bring questioned by one of the officers. Cassie had already learned from Hamada that they didn’t suspect Mary Jane was in on the con. She was just another pawn who’d fallen for Bask’s charm.
Cassie made way for two agents carrying out Bask’s computer. Right behind them was Dalton. She hurried toward the front door, trying to avoid him, which was stupid since they still had to ride back in the same car.
She got outside and saw Bask sitting in the back seat of an unmarked white sedan. Simone stood outside the car next to Hamada, her hands cuffed behind her back. As soon as she saw Cassie she started to laugh.
“You know why Zelda was the pigeon and not you?” she called out to Cassie. “You’re gonna love this.” Simone laughed again. “Robert thought he didn’t have a chance with you. He said you and Dalton were too tight. Too much in love. Nothing would break you two up.” Still laughing, she used her shoulder to wipe her nose. “And you turn out to be cops.”
Cassie said nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Dalton had come up behind her. He’d obviously heard. That ought to lift his mood, make him laugh.
God, she did not want to drive back with him.
“We’ll be locking up the house now,” Hamada said as everyone filed out in sheepish silence. “Got everything out?” The looks on Tom, Kathy and Zelda’s faces tore at Cassie. They’d arrived trusting Bask, hoping he’d help repair their marriages. At least Cassie had known what she was getting into.
She bit her lower lip. No, she hadn’t. She hadn’t expected to fall in love. And damn, she hadn’t expected Dalton to be like all the rest. Screw him. She was a good investigator. And if this was such a fluff case, why were their four agents involved? No matter, his words still stung. She gripped her suitcase tighter and lifted her chin.
“Thanks for everyone’s cooperation,” Hamada said. “We’ll be in touch. Everyone okay? You all have rides?”
Before Cassie even knew what she’d done, she waved at him. “Sergeant, if it’s not too much trouble, I could use one.” She didn’t dare so much as glance back at Dalton.
“THAT’S THE TROUBLE with you, Styles. You think rules and regulations are made for other people.” Hector leaned back in his black leather chair and locked his hands behind his head, his smug, superior expression burning a hole in Dalton’s gut. “I hope the Bask fuck-up taught you a lesson.”
Dalton sat in the designated seat across from his boss, and then swung his feet up onto Higgins’s desk, mostly because he knew it pissed him off.
“But you didn’t expect me to collar Bask.”
Hector’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You just wanted me out of the way for a week.”
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to but—”
“Come on, Hector, I know you. We go way back. You wanted me out of the way while you lobbied for a nomination.”
“That’s absurd.” Hector unnecessarily pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit he’d had for as long as Dalton could remember.
“What did you do, imply I was on suspension?”
“Where are you coming up with all this nonsense?”
Dalton knew he was right. He could see it written all over Hector’s face. “See, I know I present a problem for you. On the one hand, my successful arrest record has made you look damn good. But my unconventional methods, which account for my success I might point out, have called too much attention to the bureau. And you.”
“You screwed up, Styles.” Hector’s face turned red. “Admit it and quit dancing around the issue by fabricating a bunch of bullshit.”
“I admit I screwed up.” His thoughts went to Cassie. He’d only talked to her once since Bask’s arrest a week ago. About the case. The conversation had been brief. She hadn’t been angry or sarcastic. Just sad. It tore at his heart. “I botched a simple case…a case I should never have been assigned. What happened, Hector? Getting the bad guys used to be just as important to you. More important than private agendas.”
He put up a silencing finger. “If you shut up right now, I won’t have the Bask incident documented in your file.”
Dalton stared at his old friend. All Dalton ever wanted to be was a good agent, and at one time a good husband and father. He’d failed at the husband part.
And lately he hadn’t been a particularly good agent. So who the hell was he anymore?
“Tell you what, Hector,” he said, swinging his boots off the desk. “You do whatever you want. I quit.”
“You can’t do that.” Hector’s fists clenched as he glared in warning.
“You’ll receive my formal resignation tomorrow.” Dalton smiled as he stood. “All typed up nice and neat just like it should be.”
17
CASSIE STRETCHED out on her back on the couch and placed the bowl of popcorn on her stomach. This was her second serving with extra butter and she knew she’d end up feeling sick. But her bigger concern was what the hell she’d done with the remote control.
Over the past week she’d gotten hooked on Days of Our Lives and she couldn’t stand it if she didn’t find out what happened between Roman and Marlena. Or maybe her name was Kristen…
Pathetic. Cassie had made it through college without once getting involved in a soap opera like all her friends had, and now she planned her days around them. They’d become a distraction she craved like chocolate on certain days.
It was all Dalton’s fault. She wished she’d never met the jerk.
She put the popcorn aside and searched between the sofa cushions for the remote. Tomorrow Jennifer had another case for her to start. She would accept it of course, even though she didn’t have much heart for tailing a suspected cat burglar, who also happened to be the son of a prominent politician.
It was a touchy case that needed to remain low profile until Cassie could provide substantial evidence. That Jen had that much faith in Cassie should have made her feel good. But Dalton’s dissertation on what a nothing case the Bask investigation had been still rang in Cassie’s ears.
Dalton had called once, tried to make amends in a roundabout way by asking unnecessary questions about the case, but the sting hadn’t ebbed. The fact that he’d made no attempt to see her proved that he wasn’t all that concerned about her feelings. It also meant it was over. They were over. Of course they’d never promised each other anything more than a week’s fling.
She sniffed. So why did t
he thought of not seeing him again hurt so damn much? She missed his sexy smile, and the way he could make her laugh. And God, but she missed his touch….
Nope. She couldn’t go there. That was trouble. Big trouble.
She dabbed at her misty eyes and spotted the remote wedged between the TV Guide and the pink throw pillow her mother had made eons ago. Cassie aimed the remote at the television, turned on the tube and then got back into position with the bowl of popcorn.
She’d barely gotten comfortable again when the doorbell rang. Startled, she jerked upright and popcorn flew everywhere.
“Dammit!” She didn’t care about the mess, but now she’d have to make another batch. And melt more butter.
Cassie unlocked the deadbolt and mentally chastised herself for forgetting to use the peephole as she started to open the door. If it was a salesman, he’d be sorry he stopped at her door. Although it was probably the courier Jen used to…
“Dalton?” Her hand flew to her hair. One big tangled mop. “What are you doing here?”
“I guess I should have called, huh?” He gave her an unapologetic smile. “Can I come in?”
She thought about the blanket of popcorn all over her couch and floor. “Oh, brother.”
His smile vanished. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and moved back a little. She’d never seen him look so uncertain. Butterflies fluttered in her chest.
“Come in,” she said, sighing, and hoping he didn’t see her hand tremble as she swung the door open wider. “At your own risk.”
He frowned but stepped inside. When he saw the popcorn sprayed across the carpet he choked back a laugh. “What happened?”
“The doorbell startled me.”
He peered at a clump before he removed it to sit down. “Too bad. Lots of butter. Just how I like it.”
“The kitchen is right there.” She gestured, amazed that she could appear so calm when her heart raced a mile a minute. “Help yourself.”
Dalton had already focused on the television. Days of Our Lives had just started. “I thought I was going to miss this episode. Roman hasn’t admitted to where he’s been the last month yet, has he?”
Hands On Page 18
