Up In Flames: Body HeatCaught in the Act

by Lori Foster

  “Just hear me out.”

  “Not if you’re only going to spout bullshit.”

  Again, Rudy’s hands fisted in the sheets, and his face turned an angry red. “When she realized I knew the truth about how she’d set us up, she saw you as a way out. I bet she came on real strong, didn’t she? I can tell by your expression she did.” Rudy laughed. “She figures you’ll protect her, but I want you to see justice done. That’s what cops do, right? They arrest the criminals.”

  Mick narrowed his eyes. “Or shoot them in the leg.”

  “Bastard!”

  His shout was so loud, the guard stuck his head in the door. “Everything okay in here?”

  Mick didn’t even look at him. “Get out.”

  Holding up his hands, the guard said, “Just checking,” and backed away, letting the door hiss shut behind him.

  Mick took a step forward. His heart hammered, but he kept his expression impassive, blank. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take you apart.”

  “Why the hell would I lie? And think about it—how would I know all this otherwise?”

  “Your buddies who got loose?” He stood right next to the bed now, staring down at Rudy, fighting the urge to do him more damage. “We haven’t rounded them up yet—but we will.”

  Rudy groaned, but more out of frustration than pain. “Believe me, they’re long gone. Not a speck of loyalty in their veins. No, the only one I’ve spoken with is my lawyer, and he gave me some gritty details that just about pushed me over the edge.”

  Mick didn’t want to hear any details. “Give me the lawyer’s name.”

  “Not yet.” Rudy absently massaged his leg. With deep satisfaction, Mick watched the pain cloud his face. “Not until she gets what she deserves.”

  “Why would she tell the lawyer anything? It would only incriminate her.”

  The man shook his head. “He’s in love with her. He would never do anything to hurt her, including sharing this information with you. He only told me because he wanted me to understand that she had no intention of getting involved in this mess, that I couldn’t count on her to help me out.”

  “Ah.” Mick made a tsking sound of false sympathy. “So you have no one to corroborate this ridiculous tale, huh? Too bad.” The sarcasm didn’t work as well as he’d hoped; he still felt ready to shout with rage. The ridiculous tale was far too close to sounding plausible to suit him.

  “I don’t need anyone to confirm my story. You already know it’s true.”

  “Not so,” he lied. “I don’t believe anything repeated by an attempted murderer and bungling thief.”

  The man looked dumbstruck, then florid with rage. “She really did get to you, didn’t she? I understand she wore you out that first night, drugged you, then used her mouth to put you to sleep. But you’re a good sport. I mean, you paid her back in kind, right, once you’d gotten a little rest and your friends had all gone home?” Rudy jeered, his voice grating down Mick’s spine. “For a wounded man, you were tireless, I’ll give you that. But then with her in the saddle, what man wouldn’t be?”

  A red haze of pain and anger nearly blinded him. “You son of a bitch.” Mick grabbed him by his hospital gown and twisted, lifting him a good six inches off the mattress. Disappointment threatened to buckle his knees. He had begun trusting her, caring about her, even lo—

  No! None of that mattered now. The only way Rudy could have known the intimate details of Mick’s first night with Delilah, especially the playful reference to riding, was if she’d told someone.

  And why would she do that unless what Glasgow said was true? He couldn’t believe he’d let his lust for her override his professional instincts.

  Anguish tore through Mick, obliterating his reason, filling him with bitter regret.

  On the heels of those overwhelming sensations was refreshing fury, a reaction he knew how to deal with, an emotion that gave him back his breath—and his strength. He let the rage overtake him.

  He released Rudy with a wrenching motion that made the man choke and hold his throat.

  Mick backed away, knowing he’d gone over the edge. He wouldn’t let her hurt him like this. He wouldn’t let her make him forget his duty, his responsibilities.

  Goddamn it, he’d been the worst kind of fool, but no more. He didn’t verify or deny Rudy’s claims, he simply turned on his heel and walked out, but he heard Rudy alternately gasping and laughing behind him.

  Hot purpose drove Mick, made his steps long and hard and impatient.

  The guard tried to speak to him, but Mick’s throat was all but closed, his thoughts, his feelings agitated, even violent. He had to collect himself, get himself under control.

  And he had to see the lead investigator on the case. He had evidence to share—and he wouldn’t feel sane until he did.

  * * *

  Delilah heard the knock and left her desk. Mindful of her promise to Mick, she asked, “Who is it?”

  “Josh,” a voice called back, and, leaving the chain on the door, she cracked it open.

  Not only Josh stood there, but Zack, too. They made a mismatched pair, she thought, seeing them both smile at her. Josh with his dark green eyes and blond hair always reminded her of a slick cover model. He had cockiness stamped all over him, and he knew his effect on women. She shook her head. His effect was wasted on her. She had eyes only for Mick, and she liked it that way.

  “Can we come in?” Zack asked.

  If Josh looked like a model for Playgirl, then Zack, with his kind blue eyes and bone-straight, light brown hair, looked like a model for the Sunday ads, maybe for comfy house slippers. He looked warm and cozy, like a man meant for a family.

  Josh was excitement. Zack was comfort.

  Mick was both those things and more. He was everything. Too quickly, he’d become so important to her.

  She held the door open so they could enter. “Mick’s not here.”

  They both drew up short, and Josh, in the rear, almost ran into Zack. “What do you mean, he’s not here?”

  Delilah shrugged. “He said he had a surprise something or other to do and left at lunchtime, almost four hours ago. He didn’t want me to go along.”

  They shared a look. “You promised to stay in?” Josh guessed.

  She shrugged. “I had writing to do, anyway. But this overprotectiveness is getting absurd.” She gave them both pointed looks to let them know they were grouped in with the overprotective absurdity. After all, they backed Mick up every time he warned her to be cautious. She wondered how they thought she’d lived this long without them all looking over her shoulder, protecting her every step of the way.

  Zack put his arm around her. They were both overly familiar, treating her now as if she and Mick were a longtime couple. They’d come around almost every other day, and had learned to make themselves at home. “Grant the guy the right to worry.”

  “He doesn’t return the favor.” She didn’t mean to sound complaining, but it sure came out that way.

  “Meaning?” Zack asked in a gentle tone.

  “Meaning he doesn’t want me to ever worry and he looks annoyed if I do.”

  Josh dropped onto her couch. “’Course he would. He’s a guy.”

  Del warned him with a look. “Your sexist attitude is going to get you into trouble someday.” At first Josh’s attitude had rubbed her the wrong way, but now she accepted him, even liked him. In small doses.

  Zack nodded. “I’ve told him the same, but this time he’s right. Mick can take care of himself.”

  She laughed at them. They saw everything in black-and-white, especially where men and their roles in life were concerned. Men were supposed to protect, to defend, to cherish. Even Josh, with his variety of girlfriends, treated them all as special. And Zack made his beautiful little girl the center of
his life.

  That thought brought another, and she asked, “Where’s Dani?” She enjoyed visiting with the child. Dani wasn’t the average four-year-old. She was too precocious, too aware of her surroundings.

  “Gone to the movies with a neighbor and her daughter. She said to give you a hug from her.” So saying, Zack pulled Del close and squeezed her, rocking back and forth.

  She laughed and pushed herself away. Never in her life had she been touched so much. Her parents, once they’d realized she was different, had given her space—not necessarily space she wanted, but evidently space they needed. They hadn’t known how to deal with her, so they’d dealt with her less.

  Not so with these guys. The less they understood her, the more determined they were to figure her out. And in the process, they coddled and cuddled her a lot. They made her laugh, made her exasperated, made her feel important, wanted.

  She enjoyed it all, the intimate, hot touching she and Mick shared, the friendly touching and camaraderie she got from Mick’s friends, and the emotional touching, the acceptance, the welcome. Not a day went by that she didn’t hear from one or another of Mick’s family or friends.

  It had never occurred to her how isolated she’d become. She wrote in a void, emerging only for research and publicity. But then Mick had saved her life, and in the process, changed it irrevocably.

  “When do you expect him back?” Josh asked, even as he picked up the TV remote control and started looking for a sports channel.

  Zack turned the television off. “Dolt, did you consider that she might be busy?”

  Josh glanced at her. “You busy?”

  Feeling rather conspicuous now, Del gestured at her desk, littered with small sticky notes and research files. “I was just writing the last chapter.”

  “Then we can hang out and wait for Mick?”

  Zack groaned. “Writing is work to her, you idiot. How can she work if you’re here disrupting her?”

  Josh looked totally bemused by the idea that he might be a bother to anyone, and Del relented. “Not at all,” she said. “I’ll enjoy the company. I really don’t know how much longer Mick will be, though.” She glanced at the wall clock and saw it was nearly five. “I thought he’d be back by now.”

  Zack glared at Josh, which made Josh raise his brows in a what? expression, before asking, “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “I’ve been writing all day. My legs are cramped.” Then a thought hit her and she said, “I haven’t been out running once since Mick moved in. I miss it.”

  Again they shared a look, and it was Josh who said, “It’s not safe for you to be out traipsing around until they catch those other guys.”

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Who’s to say they’ll ever catch them? Am I supposed to stay cooped up forever?” Josh opened his mouth and she rushed to say, “Don’t answer that! I know what you think already.”

  He grinned shamelessly. “I was just going to say to wait until Mick is completely healed and I’m sure he’ll run with you. In the park. Or someplace else that’s safe.”

  “But not here,” Zack added.

  “No, not here.”

  Del sat down on the couch next to Josh. “Why not here?”

  Josh frowned, measuring his words. “Being the intense writerly type that you are, you may not have noticed, but this area is pretty hazardous.”

  “Hazardous how?”

  He glanced at Zack for help. Zack sat on her other side. “Unsavory types live around here.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, yeah...you never noticed?”

  She chuckled at his disbelief. “Of course I did. I also noticed the variety of people who live here, old and young, black and white and Hispanic, male and female, friendly and hostile. I love the atmosphere, the constant chaos. No matter what time of night I’m up to write, there’s something going on outside. People feed my inspiration, and I write better in places like this.”

  Zack reached over and tweaked a tendril of her hair. “You’re a nut, sweetheart.”

  She swatted at him, laughing.

  Josh agreed. “Most women I know want to avoid the criminal element as much as possible. You’re the first person I’ve heard who wants to embrace it.”

  “I write about the criminal element, remember? Most of my mysteries revolve around a villain. Besides, I go where my villains go. And that makes for some fun travel.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yup. I love moving.”

  They were just getting into that discussion when Del’s doorbell rang. She glanced at both Zack and Josh, then started to get to her feet.

  Josh stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Mick?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “Not unless he lost his key.”

  Zack moved past them both. “I’ll get it.”

  Del smiled at their determination in keeping her safe. She didn’t bother telling them that she received a lot of special delivery packages from her editor. No, she just sat back and indulged them in their maleness.

  When Zack opened the door, she saw two people there, a man and a woman dressed in suits. The woman gave a faint, stony smile. “Is Ms. Delilah Piper in, please?”

  “Who’s calling?” Zack asked suspiciously. At the same time, Del stood to better see.

  The woman looked past him. “Ms. Piper?”

  “That’s right.” Del started toward the door, but Josh kept pace at her side.

  The woman flipped open her bag to display a shiny, very official badge. “I’m Detective Darney, with the city police department. This is Detective Breer. Would you mind coming with us to answer some questions?”

  Josh bristled, eyeing the badges as if to verify their authenticity. “What’s this about?”

  At his tone, the male officer spoke up. “She’s wanted downtown for questioning. That’s all...for now.”

  Confused, Del asked, “Questioning about what?”

  Both Josh and Zack flanked her, and Del appreciated their solid, comforting presence. She felt off balance and a little frightened.

  Detective Breer ignored Josh and faced Del instead. “For possible involvement in the jewelry store robbery,” he intoned, his voice so deep Del felt her skin prickle.

  “What?” She thought she shouted the word, but it came out as only a vague, rusty whisper.

  Detective Darney looked sympathetic. “You’ve been named as an accomplice,” she gently explained. “But before any charges are filed, we’d like to talk to you.”

  Del had no idea what to do; she’d never faced a situation like this! She turned to Josh with a blank stare, hoping for direction. He looked furious and concerned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Mick...”

  Zack gave her a squeeze. “We’ll get hold of him. I promise.”

  She nodded, reached for her purse, and then Detective Darney had her arm, leading her out the door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  At least they hadn’t handcuffed her, Del thought with a struggling sense of humor to temper her despair. Her throat felt tight, her chest hurt and her stomach was queasy. She almost faltered as she was led through double glass doors and into a long corridor, but the police station wasn’t a place to make a scene.

  Detective Darney’s heels tapped on the tile floor on one side of her, while Breer’s heavy steps echoed as solid thuds on the other. They had her caged in—guarding against her escape? Absurd, almost as absurd as the interrogation room where they stopped.

  Detective Breer pulled a chair out for her. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Numbness seeping in, Del shook her head. The proffered courtesies, in light of the situation, were almost laughable. She drooped down into the chair.

  The plastic-covered seat
squeaked beneath her. Her blouse stuck to her back from the heat and her tension, forcing her to lean forward. Sweat gathered between her breasts. The unmarked car she’d ridden in had icy-cold air-conditioning, but this room was hot, stuffy, closing in on her. Suffocating.

  Once while doing research, she’d been in a room just like this. She knew the procedure and the protocol, and tried to calm herself with the fact that she knew what to expect, though she’d certainly never thought she’d find herself in the position of being an actual suspect.

  Still, she wouldn’t panic. It was all a misunderstanding. And thinking that, she said, “If you get hold of Mick Dawson, he could explain to you that I was just a victim.”

  As if she’d summoned him, Mick strode in. He had another man behind him, and both of them wore frowns, but Mick’s was darker, and very grim. Del didn’t understand, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying in some surprise, “Mick!” and then, as relief washed over her, “Thank God you’re here.”

  His black-eyed glance lacked any emotion as he took a seat at the end of the table—a good distance from where she sat.

  Anxiety smothered her. Mouth dry, pulse racing, Del looked down the expanse of the table to Mick. It meant something, that awful distance he’d instigated, but for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what. When he’d left her at the apartment that afternoon, everything had been fine.

  He’d even told her he planned to get her a surprise gift.

  Thinking this wasn’t exactly the surprise she’d hoped for, Del twittered nervously. The silly sound just sort of escaped on its own, a girlish giggle, a forerunner to hysteria, making her edgier. She slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t understand...any of it.

  She swallowed hard and reached for composure. “What’s going on?”

  The man who’d entered with Mick held out his hand. He was large and beefy, and had salt-and-pepper hair neatly trimmed above his elongated ears. Watery, pale blue eyes were closely spaced to an overlarge nose. His suit fit his square frame loosely, and a wrinkled tie hung crooked around his neck.

  He looked like a wonderful character, Del thought, someone she could put into a book. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking such inane thoughts at the moment, but all other thoughts cut like tiny razors, and her mind naturally shied away from them.