To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella)

by Charles, L. j.

  She grinned. “Really? Well, then, thank you. Come closer and meet our new cat.”

  “I had other plans for this evening.” He extended his fingers for the cat to sniff. With feline grace, the kitten gave a perfunctory head butt to Parker’s hand, then rubbed its body along Jayne’s thigh.

  “An excellent idea,” Parker said, skimming his palm over her other thigh, and then he reached to scratch the cat’s ears. “He must have gotten in when your brother and Everly left.”

  “Um-hmm.” She scooped the kitten into her arms. “I think this is the same little bundle of fur I rescued in the lobby. I wonder if it escaped from its box and followed me.”

  Parker sat back on his heels. “I thought you didn’t care for cats.”

  The fluffy feline balanced on its hind legs and rubbed noses with Jayne. “I don’t. Didn’t. This one seems to have wormed its way into my heart.” She held the cat away from her, checked its nether region. “He’s a boy. We have a boy, Parker,” she said with a grin.

  “We, huh? Guess I better find some appropriate accessories for our new adoptee.” He plucked the fluff ball from Jayne’s arms and stood. “What’s your name?”

  “Tell me you don’t expect him to answer.”

  Parker winked. “Cats have a way of letting you know.”

  Jayne began buttoning her blouse, but Parke’s gaze stopped her. “Don’t. I want to see you.”

  His words shivered down her spine.

  He handed her the kitten, brushing the back of his hand against her breasts. In a single movement, he spread the edges of her blouse open and tasted.

  “Mmmurrrroow.”

  “Hungry?” The single word left Jayne’s throat with a strangled murmur, and the kitten offered another meow.

  “Me, too.” Parker’s gaze scanned her body, burning her from the inside out.

  The kitten batted Jayne’s nose, and Parker backed away. “There might be some tuna in the pantry.”

  It took but moments for him to open the can, empty it into a dish, and set it on the floor.

  The kitten jumped from Jayne’s arms, leaving a faint red scratch where his claws fought for purchase, then he hunkered down and purred while he ate.

  “Now, where were we before Winston decided to adopt us?” Parker asked, pulling Jayne into his arms.

  “Winston?”

  “Um-hmm.” Parker’s kiss consumed her, filling the empty spaces in her heart—the ones she didn’t know existed until the ache of loneliness disappeared under his touch.

  Parker woke to a battery of tiny claws kneading his chest. “Not exactly how I planned to begin the day, Winston.”

  The room was warm with the scent of their well-loved bodies…and…kitty breath. Jayne gathered Winston in her arms, nuzzled her cheek against his fur. “The sooner you feed him, the sooner we can get in the shower.”

  He slid his hand under the covers and trailed his fingertips along the smooth skin of her abdomen. He’d waited so long to wake up next to Jayne Hunt, why the hell had fate dropped a kitten into the mix? “Your turn at feeding duty. I’ll start the shower.”

  Jayne blew out a breath, bundled Winston against her chest, and headed for the kitchen.

  The sway of her hips held Parker’s attention. She was walking along the thin line of his self- control—a line she couldn’t see, but would soon learn about in intimate detail.

  Better make it a cold shower, old man, or you won’t survive the foreplay.

  He grabbed several condoms, rolled out of bed, and turned the shower to ice. Full blast. By the time Jayne slid under the spray, he’d warmed the temperature, and was ready for her—in oh, so many ways. “I want you, Jayne. Wet and slippery.”

  “My turn first.” She followed the droplets of water trailing down his chest with her fingertips, then with the tip of her tongue. His hands clenched with need. He pushed them flat against the shower wall hard enough to knot the muscles in his forearms, his gaze never leaving Jayne. The beauty of her arousal, flushed skin and soft lips, was almost his undoing.

  She licked her lips in satisfaction, and reached behind him for the bottle of shower gel. The scent of spring rain permeated the shower as she squeezed it into her hand. “You, Mr. Steele, covered in foamy, white suds, are a sight destined to eliminate my inhibitions forever.”

  They stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, then took turns drying each other. “I think,” he said, pulling his too-large robe closed around her, “that I need to invest in a larger hot water heater.”

  “And I think I need to bring several changes of clothes to the office.”

  He touched a fingertip to her lips. She licked. He hardened. “No.” Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that. Wanted to give her more time.

  “No?” she echoed. Hurt shadowed behind her eyes.

  He ran his hands through his hair, tugged. He was too old, too experienced to be botching this so badly. “That half of the closet—” he pointed behind her— “is empty. Waiting for you.”

  A touch of panic flickered over her face. “Waiting?”

  Be careful, Steele, or you’re going to lose her.

  “Since the first day you strolled into Steele Management, all crisp and efficient.”

  “You’ve…I’ve…well, we have Winston to think about. It will probably take both of us to raise him right. Especially since I don’t know a thing about cats.”

  Back off and give her some space. Let her catch up with your plans.

  Winston chose that moment to twine between them. Parker bent to pick him up, filling his hands so he didn’t toss Jayne on the bed and keep her there for the rest of the day. “If we’re lucky, Winston will allow us to live here with him.”

  The phone rang, cutting into Jayne’s noticeable silence.

  He ignored it. Focused on her. This was too important for an interruption.

  Until he heard the voice on the answering machine.

  “Mr. Steele, this is Benny from the front desk. Two cops are on their way up. I couldn’t stop them.”

  Parker reached behind him, snatched the handset out of its base. “Thank you, Benny. It’s fine. See to getting copies of all the video from our security cameras. They might request them, and I want backups. ” He clicked End and set the phone back, and then shifted his shoulders, trying to dislodge a new weight—irritation that his time with Jayne was interrupted, or was it a premonition of what was to come?

  “There are sweats in the bottom drawer,” he said to her, reaching for a pair of jeans. “We probably want to meet Raleigh’s finest in more than bathrobes.”

  The shock of Parker’s efficiency broke through Jayne’s confusion and left an icy tingle along her nape. Tarik. This must be about Tarik. “Damn. Damn. Damn,” she whispered into the empty room as she tugged some non-descriptive gray sweats from the drawer and pulled them on. She had to wrap the drawstring around her twice, but at least the pants stayed up. She ran her fingers through her hair, sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders, and went to join Parker and the police.

  “…died early this morning. Poisoning of an undisclosed origin.” The deep, male voice carried down the hall. Jayne paused to assess the situation before entering the great room.

  Parker was on the sofa, left ankle balanced on his right knee. He looked coolly attentive. A façade she recognized, but had only seen once before—the day a mailroom clerk fondled her ass, and Parker had personally escorted him from the building in less than a minute.

  The detective appeared oblivious to Parker’s mood. He held his rugged jawline at a threatening angle and kept his tone intimidating. The uniformed officer with him didn’t look up from her notepad. Tall and willowy, her blond hair was pulled into a tight braid that ran halfway down her back.

  Parker must have sensed Jayne’s presence, because he turned and motioned her into the room. “Detective Joe Stephens from homicide and Officer Kennedy,” he said, standing to wrap his arm around Jayne. “They’re here about Solomon Tarik. He died this morning.�
�

  “While we were…” she whispered against his ear.

  His arm tightened. “There was nothing we could do, Jayne.”

  She stepped out of his embrace and faced the detective. “How? What happened?”

  Officer Kennedy snapped her notebook closed and focused on Jayne. “Perhaps you can tell us, Ms. Hunt. It is Ms. Jayne Hunt, correct?”

  “Yes, it is. And I don’t know what happened to the Emir. He seemed to simply drift off during the séance.”

  “Tell us what happened.” Detective Stephens’s request held an unspoken warning.

  “What would you like to know?” Jayne crossed her arms tightly over her ribs.

  Parker froze. “Would you like an attorney, Jayne?”

  She searched his face, looking for a clue as to how she was supposed to answer his question. “Yes, I believe I would.”

  Parker jerked his cell out of his pocket and punched in a series of numbers. “I have Drew Smith on retainer. He’ll cover the preliminaries and determine if we need additional counsel.”

  “Come now, Mr. Steele, Ms. Hunt. Surely that isn’t necessary.” Detective Stephens worked his index finger under the collar of his shirt. “We just have a few questions for you.”

  Parker dropped his arm across Jayne’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Neither of us knew Emir Tarik well. When he heard about the séance, he contacted me and requested an invitation. We’d met briefly at a fundraiser last year, and we have sponsored some of the same philanthropic efforts, so his request to attend wasn’t unusual.”

  He turned away, speaking into his phone. “Parker Steele, Drew. Call me. It’s urgent.”

  Detective Stephens talked over him, his voice rough with inferred threat. “We’ll need to know where you and Ms. Hunt were at all times during the séance.”

  Parker shoved his phone into his pocket. “We have nothing to say without the presence of our attorney.”

  Stephens shrugged, pulled out a search warrant, and handed it to Parker. “We’ll be searching the building, starting with that computer.”

  He pointed to the laptop Jayne had left on the console. “Bag it, Officer Kennedy. Ms. Hunt, if you could come with me.”

  He motioned Jayne toward the door.

  “Hold it!” Steele barked the order, thumbing through the warrant. “This gives you access to Steele Management security camera footage, computers, my personal computer, and testing for any toxic residue. It says nothing about Ms. Hunt’s personal laptop. I suggest you don’t touch it, Detective Kennedy.”

  Several uniformed officers came through the front door as Detective Stephens led Jayne toward the elevator. “I’d like you to be present while we search your office.” He pushed the down button. “I want to see all of the records pertaining to your work with Solomon Tarik.”

  Jayne ran her hands through her hair, her fingers coming back wet. She wiped the moisture on her thighs, then turned and faced Joe Stephens, her heart thudding hard in her chest. “I don’t know that they’ll help you. My records are all complex financial spreadsheets.”

  He nodded. “I’ll have to take them in as evidence. Let our auditors go over them.”

  “Trust me, Detective, your auditors aren’t going to find anything. If you want to know about those records, I’m the person you want to talk to. And I won’t be chatting with you about anything until my attorney is present.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Jayne led the way to her office. She stopped in front of the door, held her hands out, palms up. “My key is in the penthouse.” Where she wanted to be. Loving Parker. And cuddling Winston.

  Stephens sighed, reached in his pocket for the master, then turned toward three people coming down aisle, each carrying a metal case. Had to be a CSI team.

  Detective Stephens unlocked the door to her office, pushed it open, and turned to the uniformed team. “Let me know when you’re finished. And be sure to bag and tag her work computer.”

  He turned back to Jayne, started to speak, but was interrupted by Officer Kennedy. She led him into the hall, only muffled conversation floating back to reach Jayne’s ears.

  They confronted her a few minutes later. “What do you know about toxic plants? ” Detective Stephens asked.

  “Nothing.” Jayne said, and rubbed her hand against her chest, trying to suck in some air.

  “No? Well, Ms. Hunt, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re under arrest for the murder of Emir Solomon Tarik.”

  ELEVEN

  Jayne Hunt and Mitchell Hunt

  Arrest? The detective’s words ate all the oxygen in her office, and black threatened the edge of Jayne’s vision. She tried to focus on him, on what he was saying, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around being handcuffed a second time. And this was real. Not a sting operation.

  “I can’t be under arrest.” Damn, but she couldn’t stop the quiver in her voice. “I’m already under arrest.”

  Her body shook. And she didn’t have on any underwear. Just Parker’s sweats. Parker’s too-big sweats. “I need to get dressed. I can’t leave the building like this.” She glanced down at herself, tried to move her hands, but the metal cuffs cut into her wrists, stopping the motion.

  Reality hit.

  An arctic blast of fear cut through her body.

  “I don’t have an attorney.” Her words hung in the air, hitting her with another round of reality.

  “No problem. You can call one from the station.” Detective Stephens grasped her arm and led her out of Steele Management, Inc. and toward the waiting squad car.

  “No.” She yanked her arm free from his grip, bruising herself as the handcuffs cut into her skin. “I’m making the call now. It’ll take a while to process me, and—”

  “Not my problem, Ms. Hunt. Finding out why you killed Tarik, now that interests me.” This time when his fingers circled her arm there was steel in the grip.

  After two hours of being held in a silent interrogation room, she was allowed to call Mitch.

  “Hey, Sis.”

  His greeting released all the frustration she’d squashed since being arrested, and words poured out of her, tight with fear. “I’m under arrest for the murder of Solomon Tarik—”

  “You’re what? That’s insane. Who the hell arrested you? And where the fuck is Steele?”

  “Detective Joe Stephens arrested me. They separated us, so I don’t know where Parker is. Find him. Get me out of here. And then we can figure out what to do.”

  “Bail posted yet?”

  “Probably not, since I haven’t had a hearing. I asked to be released on my own recognizance, but they laughed and said that would be up to the judge. They also made some arrogantly irritating comments about this being my second arrest in a matter of weeks.” Her voice shook.

  “Okay. I’m on it. Don’t say anything to anyone.”

  Mitch put down the phone, scrubbed his hands over his face, then picked up the handset again and punched in a number. “Steele,” he bit out when Parker answered.

  “Hunt. Where’s Jayne. Have you heard from her? They separated us and wouldn’t let me near a phone until a few minutes ago. I called her condo. No answer.”

  “She said they’d arrested her for Tarik’s murder. What the fuck is going on?”

  “That’s impossible. I’ll meet you at the jail in fifteen minutes—with my attorney.”

  “I’m at my house. It’ll take a half hour to get there.” Mitch grabbed his jacket off a hook by the door. “I’ll let El know, then give Adam Stone a call.”

  “Stone’s solid. You know him well enough to pull strings?”

  “Good friend of El’s and mine. And he knows Jayne. She’ll be released by the time I get there,” Mitch said, then disconnected.

  He passed his bike, opting for the truck. No telling who he’d need to haul around. Something was damn wrong with this scenario. He’d never heard of Detective Stephens, but El had worked with Stone, and seeing as how they’d partnered on a couple cases…the thought drifte
d.

  He dialed El on the voice-activated phone system in the truck. “Hey, Sunshine. We need Adam Stone. Some hotshot detective arrested Jayne for Tarik’s murder.”

  Gravel spewed as he backed down the driveway.

  “What? That’s impossible. We were all right there, and—”

  “Talk later, act now. I’m gonna call Adam, get him on board.”

  Everly’s inhalation rasped against his ears. “Adam isn’t here, Mitch. Seattle. Family reunion. It’s the first time in six years they’ve all been together.”

  “Forgot. Damn it all. But he’s never without his cell.”

  “I’ll make the call. You’re driving, probably speeding. Love you,” she said, disconnecting.

  Warmth seeped through his icy anger. God, how he loved her. And appreciated her gifts. She could shake hands with Stephens and find out what the hell was going on.

  There was something else nagging at him. Fear? Well, shit, but if he wasn’t afraid for Jayne.

  Get a grip, Hunt. Jayne doesn’t need a crybaby brother.

  But, damn if she didn’t need a miracle.

  TWELVE

  Everly Gray

  I disconnected from the conversation with Mitch and hit speed dial for Adam, grateful that I’d programmed him into my cell the last time I consulted for the Apex P.D. He answered on the first ring. By the time I’d dashed to my car and completed the short ride to the police station, I’d talked him through the situation, and he’d promised to call Chief Hayes. The chief had pull, and he liked me—most of the time.

  Parker’s Mercedes screeched to a halt in the parking space next to me. I took a second to breathe and clear my thoughts. He was gonna need me to function, not fall apart when I got hit with images from inside the police station.

  He jerked my car door open. “Ready, Everly? We need to get Jayne out of there.”

  There was a feral glint in his eyes that set my knees to shaking. Dangerous. No doubt about it. “Let me do this alone, Parker. You need to stay here and meet with the attorney, and I can work under cover in there, touching things. No offense, but you’re looking a little scary.”