by Beverly Long
Because I think I love you. Maybe ever since you poured the M&M’S in my popcorn and said we had to get married. “I could have died today. I didn’t want to die without this.”
“I guess I’m glad I could be of assistance,” he said, sounding a little irritated.
She let it go. Better he think that he was a convenient hookup. Otherwise, he’d probably be scared enough to take a leap out of the thirty-fourth-floor window.
“Would you kiss me now?” she asked.
He leaned in. His mouth was warm and heavy and she could feel her cold bones start to melt. He pushed his tongue in her mouth and when she sucked on it, he groaned.
And then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her down onto the pretty gray duvet that covered the big soft bed.
He kissed her for a very long time and she could feel other parts of her body come out of hibernation and begin to beg for attention. Her skin felt warm and extra sensitive. Her breasts, heavy.
She reached up to unbutton his shirt. He stilled her hands. “Not quite yet,” he said softly.
He slipped his hand under her shirt and traced her ribs gently with the pad of his thumb. “You’re sure you’re not too sore?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said and settled back into his kisses.
His hand traveled upward and when he encountered only skin, he lifted his head.
She smiled. “My bra is in my purse. I didn’t put it back on at the hospital.”
She heard a low growl and reveled in the feel of his broad hand holding her breast, caressing it. He gently pinched her nipple and sparks shot through her.
Her body had moved from anticipation to full-blown engagement. She pressed against him. He was hard. Sinfully hard.
Another growl and this time he lightly bit at her bottom lip. “You’re not playing fair,” he said.
“I’ve waited a long time,” she said.
“And you’ll have to wait just a few minutes longer. You’re a fine wine, Carmen. Meant to be sipped, savored, enjoyed.”
And he did just that. Her shirt came off, then her slacks and panties, and there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t kissed, stroked, sucked or loved. When he spread her legs and touched her with his tongue, she responded with an explosive orgasm that left her panting and a little embarrassed that she might have squeezed his poor head with her thighs.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked.
He lifted his head. “You were perfect,” he said.
“Even if that’s all there is,” she said, “it’s the best sex I ever had.”
“That’s not all there is,” he said. Then he rolled her underneath him and proceeded to prove his point not once, but twice.
* * *
ROBERT FELT THE mattress shift and in one quick movement, Carmen slipped from the bed. He could have stopped her but he knew it was time for her to go home.
Damn. He wanted her to stay. Had loved having her in his bed, in his arms, under his body.
Loved.
He loved Carmen Jimenez. But was she ready to hear that?
He watched her pull on her clothes. She’d turned, giving him her back. He was grateful for the moon. It gave enough light that he could see the delicate ridge of her spine, the sexy muscles in her upper back, her gently rounded shoulders.
Her skin had been so soft, smelled so good.
Now her pants, shirt.
“I’ll drive you,” he said, throwing off the covers.
“I can catch a cab,” she said, pulling on her sweater.
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Her long hair brushed against his chest. He gathered it up in his fist and pulled it to the side. He kissed the back of her neck. She stilled.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he murmured, moving his lips close to her ear. “Thank you,” he added. He could feel his body reacting to their closeness, wanting her again.
“You’re welcome,” she said, amusement in her tone. She moved away. “I really do need to get home.”
Resigned, he started pulling on his own clothes. When he got to his pants, the ring in his pocket felt heavy against his thigh.
Should he ask her?
What if she said no? The night had been perfect. One that he would remember forever. Could he take the chance of ruining it?
It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have when she was hurrying to get home. Maybe this weekend. That might be nice. He pulled on his coat and less than five minutes later, they were in his cold car, driving toward her apartment. It had started to snow and the streets were slick. She was quiet and spent the time looking out her window.
Did she regret the past two hours?
That caused a sharp pain to slice across his chest. “What are you thinking?” he asked, even though he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to hear the answer.
“I wish I knew more about cars.”
Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. “Why?”
“I’m going to need to buy a new one. It would save me some time if I had some idea of what I wanted. Or what I could afford,” she added.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“I’ve got a little money saved,” she said. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I hear from the insurance company.”
He could hear the worry in her voice and it made him so angry. This was a woman who already had her share of worries. She didn’t need another one. “Carmen, it doesn’t matter what your insurance pays. Whatever extra you need, I’ll give it to you.”
She didn’t say anything for two long blocks. Finally, she turned in her seat. “As payment?” she asked, her tone hard.
He almost wrecked his damn car. “I don’t even know how you could suggest that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at her gloved hands. “I don’t know where that came from. I guess I’m still not sure why a guy like you would want to be with a woman like me. I’m not your type, Robert.”
There was no place to pull over the car but there was no traffic either, so he simply slowed down. Moving at a snail’s pace, he drove with one hand and reached for her with his other. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
“The past two hours of my life have been the best two hours that I’ve ever had,” he said. “And based on those two hours, I’d say you’re exactly my type.”
Her face was sort of muffled by his coat but he could feel her nod her head. Five minutes later he pulled up to her apartment.
“I think it might be better if I go in alone,” she said. “Less questions from Raoul and all.”
“Just tell me that we’re okay, Carmen.”
She leaned across the car and kissed his cheek. “It’s all good, Robert. Thank you so much.”
“Okay. Then I have one more thing to tell you. When I talked to Sawyer earlier, he confirmed that there was a puddle of brake fluid in your parking lot. Then, while we were at the apartment, I got a text. Your brake lines were definitely tampered with. Looks like somebody took a hacksaw and cut through both the front and back lines.” He stopped, letting her absorb the information.
“So, it was deliberate?” she said, her tone flat. “Someone deliberately tried to harm me, maybe even kill me.”
“Looks that way.”
She turned to him, her dark eyes big. “Who would do something like that?”
“I don’t know. We don’t think it was Sage. He’s got an alibi.” He waited for her to throw out an I told you so but she said nothing. “We’re going to need a list of all your clients.”
“Jamison won’t go for that,” she said.
“Your boss almost lost OCM last year to a bomber. I think he’s developed a healthy respect for working with the law. Besides, he cares about you.”
&
nbsp; She nodded. “He still won’t be happy. I’m not happy. I just can’t see it being any of them. I help them. They know it.”
“Family members then?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” She looked at her watch. “Speaking of family, I better get inside.” She looked up. “What if Raoul had been with me today? What if he’d been injured because someone has a grudge against me? I couldn’t bear it, Robert.”
He started to pull her close again, but she resisted.
“I have to go,” she said. “I need to talk to Raoul. He needs to understand what’s going on. We both need to be watching.”
“How are you going to get to work in the morning? I could swing by and give you a lift.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. A cab will work just fine.” She opened her door.
He opened his. When she started to object, he held up a hand. “Give me a break here, Carmen. At least let me walk you to your door.”
She smiled. “I’m not used to having someone do things for me.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you’re the type that adjusts to change quickly.”
* * *
RAOUL WAS ALREADY in bed when he heard the apartment door open. He glanced at his clock. Carmen had worked really late.
He heard footsteps in the hallway and then a knock on his door. “Hi, sis,” he said.
She came in and kissed him on the forehead, like she used to do when he was a little kid. “How was your day?” she asked.
He didn’t think the cop had told her about his visit to the school and the conversation about Speedy’s. He knew his sister. She would not have waited until ten o’clock to have a conversation with him. “Pretty good,” he said. “Band practice went better,” he added, because she was always interested in that.
“Just a few more days until the concert,” she said.
“Yeah. Thursday at seven. I have to wear black pants and a white shirt.”
“No problem. Hey, do you have a minute?”
He was in bed. “I guess.”
“I had some bad luck today,” she said. “This morning, when I was leaving for work, I discovered that somebody had vandalized my car. They painted a white strip along the side of it and broke out the backseat window.”
Oh, man. It was going to be embarrassing riding around in something like that.
“Can we get it fixed?”
“Of course. But that’s not all. This afternoon, when I was driving to an appointment, my brakes went out. I couldn’t stop for a red light and another vehicle hit me.”
He sat up and jammed pillows behind his back. “Are you okay?”
“I am. Got checked out at the hospital and everything is just fine. But here’s the thing, Raoul. The police think that somebody cut my brake lines. Somebody wanted me to get in an accident.”
That didn’t make any sense. Everybody loved Carmen.
Raoul felt a pain in his stomach. Everybody didn’t love him. JJ and Beau hated him. They also knew where he lived and the kind of car his sister drove. Were they crazy enough that they would have spray painted her car and then messed with the brakes?
The pain became sharper when he realized that he’d just recently had a conversation about Carmen with somebody. With Apollo.
If the guy was crazy enough to shoot up a car lot, then he was probably crazy enough to cut some brake lines. It didn’t make sense because Apollo had said that he was a friend of Hector’s. But maybe he’d been lying. Maybe he’d been nice to Raoul just so that he could get close to Carmen? He seemed to be about Carmen’s age. Maybe they’d gone to school together? Maybe she’d turned him down for a date or something and he’d been pissed for a long time and was finally getting his revenge?
Raoul’s head was spinning. Maybe his sister had almost died because of him. He wanted to tell her about JJ and Beau and about Apollo but he knew how disappointed she’d be that he hadn’t told her the truth before. And when she found out about Speedy’s, she would be crazy mad.
“What are you going to do?” he whispered.
“Keep living my life. And that’s what you’re going to do, too. But we’re going to be a little more careful, a little more watchful, until we figure this out. Okay?”
He nodded and reached his arms out to hug her. She looked surprised and he realized that it had been a long time since he’d hugged his sister.
She grabbed him tight and hung on. “It will be okay, Raoul. I promise.”
It would. He was going to make sure of that.
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday
Robert was at his desk by six. He made fresh coffee because the guys who had worked overnight evidently liked drinking mud. He was standing in the break area, waiting for the toaster to pop up his bagel, when Lieutenant Fischer came in. He nodded at Robert.
“You’re in early,” his boss said.
Robert nodded and reached for the cream cheese packet. “You, too.”
“Yeah. My wife said she could take the kids to school this morning.”
That reminded Robert of his conversation with Judy Franconi Wright. “Henry Wright was getting recruited by Stalwart Academy. That’s what his mom told me when I saw her on Sunday.”
His boss cocked his head. “Recruited? That school never recruits. It’s a competitive application process with pretty good transparency.”
Robert’s stomach felt weird and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because his bagel was still on the counter. “You’re sure?”
The man nodded.
Robert pulled his notebook out of his shirt pocket and started flipping through pages. “Here it is. Stalwart Academy. Said that some representative had been talking to Henry for the last couple of weeks. He was very excited―evidently music was his life. But she didn’t know the guy’s name. Wanted Henry to get his business card but he never brought it home. She felt bad because she was wondering if the man knew Henry was dead.”
He met his boss’s eyes. “Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the thread that we’ve been looking for. I’m going to that school.”
“If they give you any trouble, drop my name. In addition to the tuition, I just made a nice donation to their new music room.”
Robert was anxious but still he drove carefully. The snow that had started falling last night when he’d been making love to Carmen had continued on through the middle of the night and there had to be at least five fresh inches. Fortunately, it had stopped in time for the plows to clear most of the main roads, although the side streets probably wouldn’t all get plowed until much later in the day.
When he got to the school, it was not quite seven. He pressed the buzzer on the outside door and waited.
“Yes?” It was a woman but she was hard to hear over the static.
He looked up at the camera that was pointed toward him. “Detective Robert Hanson of the Chicago Police. I need to speak with somebody in charge.”
He heard a buzz and pulled open the door. There was an arrow on the wall, indicating that the office was to his right. He walked into the small administrative area and could smell flavored coffee. There were two women sitting at desks. One had a phone to her ear, and he heard enough to figure out that she was talking to somebody about a kid being ill and missing school. The other woman smiled at him.
“It’s pretty early, Detective,” she said.
“I wanted to catch someone before the day started.” There was no need to tell this woman that time was running out. Tomorrow was Wednesday. “I need to talk to someone about one of your recruitment representatives.”
She cocked her head to the left. “I’ve only been here a month. I’m filling in for someone who is on maternity leave. But I guess I didn’t realize that we had recruitment representatives.” She looked at the other woman, but she was still on the pho
ne. “I suppose you could talk to Assistant Principal Bryant. She’s the only administrator who has arrived. I’ll go get her.”
“Perfect,” he said. In less than three minutes, the woman was back, this time followed by another woman.
Assistant Principal Bryant was mid-thirties, and had blond hair that fell straight to her shoulders and a knockout figure. She wore a classy white wool suit with boots that came up to her knee.
He was reminded of what Carmen had said. I’m not your type. Well, if he had a type, this woman was it.
And he felt nothing when she shook his hand.
“What can I do for you, Detective?” Her tone was friendly.
“I am investigating the murder of Henry Wright. He was the young man who was killed last week.”
“Of course,” she said. “I read about it in the newspaper.”
“I understand that someone from your school had made contact with Henry in the last couple of weeks to discuss his possible attendance here next year.”
She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip in thought. Her polished fingernails were nicely shaped. There was no wedding ring. “I suppose it’s possible that he knew one of our teachers outside of school and they had some conversation about what it’s like to attend Stalwart Academy.”
“No,” Robert said. “That wasn’t the way it was explained to me. Someone from Stalwart Academy had made contact with him specifically to discuss the possibility of a freshman scholarship.”
She smiled. “I can guarantee you that didn’t happen. Stalwart Academy doesn’t have to recruit,” she said somewhat smugly. “We have a waiting list of candidates every year. And we certainly don’t offer any scholarships.”
It was exactly what Lieutenant Fischer had thought. He stood up. “Thank you for your time.”
She had a stack of business cards on her desk and she reached for one. She flipped it over and wrote a number on the back. “My pleasure, Detective Hanson. Here’s my card and my personal cell phone on the back, in the event that you’d want to follow up. On anything.”
The message was clear. She was interested.
He put the card in his pocket. He wasn’t.
