by Cheryl Yeko
“What kind of trouble?”
“She was struck by a car two days ago—”
Stacey jumped up, which, at her height, put her chest at the level of his eyes. The deep V of her blouse showcased her generous cleavage. She was close enough that if he leaned forward he could press his mouth against the tempting swells.
“Is she okay?”
He lifted his gaze. “She’s fine. Please, take a seat.”
J.D. needed her to sit so he could focus. He’d dated a couple women over the last year and had even slept with one, awakening his libido from a long hibernation after his wife’s death, even as it had filled him with guilt. He’d been celibate again now for over five months, with not the slightest interest in bedding a woman again. Until now.
Concern radiated from every pore as she took a seat. He brought her up to speed on the situation. Her soft feminine gasps only intensified his interest.
J.D. gave her a minute to digest the information. “Can you tell me anything about Angela’s husband?”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He was a bastard.”
He quirked a brow. “How so?”
Stacey glanced away. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”
“This is a police investigation, Stacey. I need you to tell me everything you know.”
“Why don’t you ask Angela?”
“I need you to answer the question, please.”
Her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned. She stood and walked to a china cabinet, retrieved something and turned back to him, one hip braced on the cabinet. The struggle on whether to answer his question, or not, flashed across her expressive face like a neon light.
She reached back and gathered her wild locks, taming them into a ponytail holder as she studied him. Without the mountain of hair falling around her face, he was able to admire her flawless complexion and soft lines of her neck. She looked sweet and delectable, and he wanted to taste her.
Stacey sighed and returned, taking the seat across from him again.
J.D. shifted uncomfortably as his body came alive for this tiny little redhead. “Stacey. Would you please tell me what you know about Scott Beebe?”
She met his gaze. “Scott beat her.”
He grimaced, although he’d half-expected the answer. “How do you know that? Did you ever see him hit her?”
“No. I didn’t really get to know Angela until after Scott’s death. I mean, we both attended the same health club, but it wasn’t until after his murder that we became friends.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Angela told me it was his way to control her. She’d tried to leave him a couple times, but he always managed to find her and force her back.” Her eyes met his, and fury radiated from them. “He would punish her for running.”
So, she’d tried to leave him. Was that what she was hiding? But why? “What kind of punishment?”
Stacey shook her head. “I don’t know. Angela would never tell me.”
“Do you know why she never went to the police?”
“No. She just said she couldn’t. If I pushed her on it, she would become upset and wouldn’t speak to me for days. When she threatened to quit working at my boutique, I stopped asking. I didn’t want to lose her friendship.”
“Did you ever meet Scott?”
“No.”
“Is there anything else you can remember that might help understand who’d want to hurt her?”
“No. I’m sorry, that’s all I know.”
“Okay.” J.D. stood to leave. “Thank you for your cooperation, Stacey.” He smiled at her, liking the soft blush that rose to her cheeks.
Stacey peered up at him from under her lashes. Her wide eyes were a mesmerizing light shade of golden copper and a window to her feelings. Her worry and fear shone from them as brilliant as an exploding star. “Where’s Angela now? Can I see her?” Her lips pursed.
J.D. had the urge to gather her in his arms and comfort her.
What the hell?
With difficulty, he steeled himself against the emotion. “We’ve moved her to a safe location until after the trial.”
“I’d like to see her.”
J.D. shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t have a good answer for that and he still wanted to remove the anxious expression from her face.
Why not? What could it hurt?
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She smiled, her face hopeful. “Thank you, Officer.”
“You can call me J.D.” He gave her a smile, fully intending to contact her when he wasn’t on duty, to ask her out.
“Okay, J.D.,” she said with a blush that matched the red of her hair.
A surge of hope shot through him. Maybe he actually had a shot with her if he played his cards right.
Jake bit back a curse. Show her that he owned her.
The words echoed in his mind. He gently turned her around so she faced him, scanning the length of her. She was a lot of woman. Tall, lean, and healthy. No fragile flower, he couldn’t imagine her being easily subdued. His teeth gritted. Scott Beebe had been a big man and could have hurt her in any number of ways.
Sonofabitch.
“What did he do?” His voice came out in a low, angry tone.
Angela shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
When she tried to step away, his grip tightened. She winced.
Shit!
Jake dropped his arms and raked his fingers through his hair, unable to think through his fury at the implication of her words. He felt like a total ass when she reached up to rub where his hands had been. Her large green eyes watched him warily.
Self-loathing filled him. God knows what she’d endured at the hands of her goddamn husband, and here he was laying hands on her. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He caressed the barely visible mark that blushed across her skin where he’d manhandled her.
She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
He continued to berate himself as she went to the refrigerator, then reached inside and pulled out a bottle of water.
“Want one?” Her voice held a shaky quality.
“No.” Jake waited until she shut the refrigerator door and turned around. Her dark lashes shadowed her cheeks and she studied the bottle in her hand. Her bottom lip trembled.
He went to her and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. Pain hid there.
“I need you to tell me everything. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to figure out what the hell is going on.” His tone was gentle, coaxing. He brushed her cheek softly with the back of his hand. “To protect you.”
She licked her lips, opened her mouth. For a moment he thought she was going to tell him. Then her lips pressed into firm lines and her back stiffened, a look of determination entered her eyes. He knew the moment had passed. A curse formed on his lips but he held it back, not wanting to frighten her again.
She brushed past him and headed back to the living room, then plopped onto the love seat. “I don’t want to talk about my marriage. What other questions do you have?” She put the water bottle to her mouth and took a long drink.
Jake knew when to choose his battles and it was time to concede, for now. But he wasn’t giving up. She’d tell him everything eventually. He just needed to bide his time.
He took a seat next to her. “Is there anything you can remember about Scott’s business? Anything at all?”
She gave her head a slight shake. “Scott rarely talked about business around me.”
“Daniel Collins was his partner?”
“I don’t know if he was a partner, or just worked for Scott.” She shuddered. “Although, I always felt Daniel was dangerous. The way he’d watch me . . .”
Jake tensed. She was right about that. Collins had been dangerous, a murderer and a rapist. “Did he ever touch you?”
She shook
her head.
He let out a relieved breath. “Anything else you remember?”
Her eyes focused on a spot over his shoulder. “Well—” Her brows drew together.
“What? What do you remember?”
“There was this one time that I walked into the den unexpectedly, right before Scott’s death. He was there with a man.” She paused, her gaze meeting his. “A well-dressed man, not a thug. They seemed to be in a heated argument that stopped the minute I came in.”
“Do you remember what this guy looked like?”
She nodded again. “Yes, sort of.”
“Great. I’ll arrange for a sketch artist first thing tomorrow.” Maybe this was the lead they’d been waiting for.
Angela studied the sketch in her hand. “Yes. That’s him.” She glanced up at Jake and handed the sheet of paper to him. “Your sketch artist is really good.”
Jake took the composite sketch from her and placed it on the coffee table. “No,” he said. “Your description was really good.” He reached down and took her hands, tugging her to her feet.
Her body brushed his as she stood, and he inhaled sharply. She met his passion-filled gaze as anticipation swept through her. Her heart raced when he palmed her face with both hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
“Angel,” he murmured as his lips covered hers in a heated kiss.
The feel of Jake’s soft lips against hers sent ribbons of heat fluttering through her. He backed her up until she was pressed against the wall. With one hand cupping the back of her head he kissed her, the other hand slid up her thigh, and under her nightgown. Her skin burned when he lightly skimmed across her belly, moving up in slow possessive caresses until he covered her breast with a large warm palm. He massaged first one, then the other, as he plundered her mouth. His thumb caressed her tips until they swelled and her center cried for the same sensual ministration.
The feel of his erection pressed intimately at the juncture of her thighs drove her passion higher.
‘Yes,’ she gasped. Wanting him to take her against the wall and show her the pleasure he promised with his kisses.
“Angel,” Jake murmured against her lips. His hand made slow gentle caresses down her body until he reached her panties. She gasped as he slid his hand under them to touch her most sensitive area. She moaned with ecstasy when he filled her with two fingers in one sensual thrust.
Pleasure shot through her and she rocked against his hand seeking more. His lips trailed tiny kisses across her neck, and back up to capture her mouth.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.
Jake dropped to his knees, tugging her panties down as he went. His tongue replaced where his fingers had been, as he delved into her, thrusting and caressing in an intimate kiss of passion. Her legs buckled, the only thing stopping her slide to the floor was Jake’s hand on her belly, holding her up against the wall. His other hand spreading her legs as he pleasured her.
His warm mouth wrapped around the delicate flower between her thighs and he sucked gently, sending her rocketing into an intense orgasm.
“Jake!”
Angela opened her eyes as the last remnants of her orgasm flowed over her. The sound of Jake’s name lingered in the air. Dazed she lifted her hand to her hair and pushed it off her face, glancing around her bedroom. She was alone. Her breath came in short little gasps.
Damn.
She had a sex dream about Jake. The humor of it hit her and she laughed softly. That was a first. Angela couldn’t remember ever having had such an . . . entertaining dream before.
She snorted. Maybe she should try to get back to sleep. With what she knew must be a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, she pushed the covers aside and headed into the bathroom for a shower.
Afterward, she put on a pair of jeans and found a light sweater hanging in the closet. The pants were a bit loose and hung low on her hips while the sweater was a tad too small, hugging her breasts and not quite reaching her waist. Whoever had chosen the clothes to bring to the hotel must have blindly grabbed from her closet. Like most women, she had skinny and fat clothes, depending on the time of the month or holiday celebration. With a sigh, she turned and headed to the kitchen to make coffee, scooping Shelby up on her way.
She had just finished washing the dishes when the hotel phone rang. She glanced at it, not sure if she should answer. Who would be calling her here?
With some hesitation, Angela picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Angela?” Stacey’s voice filtered across the line.
“Stacey,” she squealed, a smile spread across her face. She plopped down on the couch and clutched the phone to her ear as happiness flooded her. “It’s so good to hear from you. But how did you get this number?”
“Well, umm.” There was a slight pause. “J.D. patched me through to you.”
“J.D.? Do you mean Jake’s brother, J.D.? “ How did she know Jake’s brother?
Stacey giggled. “Yep. That’s him.”
“How do you know him?”
“He came by to talk to me about what happened to you. Are you really okay, hon?”
“Yes, Stacey. I’m fine. But they’re keeping me under lock and key until the trial next week.”
Angela stroked Shelby’s fur with firm sweeps of her hand, her cat’s answering purrs helped comfort her, easing her tension. “I’m bored stiff already. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand another week of this.”
“Well, maybe I can get J.D. to bring me for a visit.”
Angela chuckled. “J.D., is it? Is he with you now?”
“Umm, yeah. He knew I was worried about you so he agreed to let me talk to you.”
Angela snorted. “Uh-huh.” Stacey was such a flirt. And men loved her.
A burst of laughter hit her ear. “Okay, girlfriend. You’ve got me, but I can’t really talk right now.”
“Oh, you mean, he’s right there with you now?”
“Yep,” Stacey said brightly. “Hang on for a sec.”
Angela listened while Stacey wheedled a visit to the hotel from J.D. She heard a deep male groan of capitulation right before Stacey’s triumphant voice came across the line.
“I’ll be there tonight with a bottle of Merlot!”
CHAPTER 8
John (Snake) Mallory, leader of the Raptor gang, was one scary son of a bitch. A big guy, with ostentatious gang symbols covering his body, including the multi-colored Cobra snake that coiled around his neck and stretched up the left side of his face. The snake’s head covered his cheek, where it appeared to hiss. Hard soulless eyes glittered from a battle-ravaged face. A dangerous man and a well-trained, cold-blooded killer who’d never failed to take out a target. Until Angela Beebe.
Michael Hirschman waited until Mallory took a seat across from him, then leaned forward and met his icy stare. “You missed.”
Mallory’s face hardened and his cold eyes turned glacial. “Minor setback.”
Michael shot Mallory an angry glare. “I’m paying you a small fortune to clean up this mess. I want her found, and I want her dead.”
Mallory gave a curt nod. “Won’t be a problem.”
“How’s the arm?” The cop had shot Mallory during the failed hit. Michael needed to be certain he was still capable of getting the job done.
Mallory’s eyes flashed fury. “Just a scratch.”
Michael had no choice but to take his word for it. “Have you located the new safe house?”
“No. But I will.” His threatening tone dared Michael to doubt him.
A knock sounded at the door. Mallory stood and turned toward the sound, body tense. His hand moved to his waist.
Michael motioned to Mallory. “Don’t worry. I’m expecting information regarding Angela.”
Mallory’s posture relaxed, but he remained standing.
“Come in,” Michael ordered.
His assistant entered the room, eyed Mallory warily, and handed Michael a file, then quickly left. Michael flipped open the fold
er.
“Well, well.” He glanced at Mallory. “New information has come to light. It seems Slater didn’t act alone. Whoever he was working with, I want them found. And questioned.”
“And then what?”
Michael's lips curled into a sneer. “Handle it.”
Mallory nodded. “Does Angela Beebe have any close friends?”
“She only has one that I know of, her boss, Stacey Holland. They seem pretty tight.” He tossed him the file. “If you can’t locate Angela, grab her friend. Maybe she’ll come out of hiding to save her.”
“And we should handle her as well?”
“Yes. I don’t want any witnesses.”
Mallory picked up the folder and flipped through it. “It says here the cop has a son. Maybe we can use that.”
Michael frowned. He didn’t want to harm a kid. Then his thoughts wandered to his own family and his resolve hardened. He needed to protect them. “Do whatever you need to do.”
“If I take a kid, it’s gonna bring down a lot of heat. It’ll cost you extra.
“Just remember, Snake,” Michael bit out. “You’re balls deep in this. If I go down, you go down with me.”
Mallory gave him a hard glare. “Whatever it takes?”
“Whatever it takes, just do it.”
Mallory gave a curt nod, then turned and left.
Michael reached into his bottom desk drawer for the fifth of whiskey he kept there. The trial started in less than a week. If Angela managed to connect him to her husband, he would lose everything. Including, possibly, his life.
He lifted the shot glass to his mouth. The fiery liquid slid down his throat and hit his gut with pleasurable warmth. However, it did nothing to ease the tension that flooded his body like a rip tide. He refilled his glass and threw back another shot.
Impatience edged Jake’s nerves as he waited for Rick to get off the phone with his contacts. They were breaking some privacy laws, but he just didn’t give a shit. He needed to know what happened to Angela during her marriage to that asshole. Rick had pulled some strings and they were waiting for a brief summary of Angela’s medical history.
“What did you learn?” Jake asked in a strained voice, not sure he was ready for what he’d discover.
