by Jianne Carlo
“Absolutely.”
“The Arnolds are still in play then. Go back to my house. Go to the kitchen, get water or something, and make sure Sands and Johnson can establish the time.”
“Joe’s right. We’re ahead of schedule. No way you could’ve been at Ellison’s and Joe’s home in the time we’ve been gone. Not humanly possible.”
Not only did Gray have a sardonic sense of humor, he also remained remarkably poised under dire circumstances. Joe counted himself fortunate to have Gray for a brother-in-law. Susie’s parting words soared into his soul, but he willed away the elation. Duty always came first.
“No one’s going to associate me with Ellison’s ‘suicide.’ I don’t—”
“We’re not taking any chances. Think of Barb.” Joe didn’t intend to back down. They all had to stick to the plan.
“Man, you are paranoid.” Gray prodded a twig with his boot.
“For good reason. Go back to Joe’s, buddy. Go take care of your wife.” Tate backslapped Kieran and gave him a shove.
“Fine. But I want to know the minute you return.” After uttering the half-snarled statement, Kieran left them, breaking into a sprint almost immediately.
The three men followed his path until he vanished into a dense copse of shrubs and pines. Joe knew Kieran would take the maximum time getting back to his house, and the panther would rage and wreak havoc on the way there.
Concentrating on the task ahead, Joe swiveled to face the Arnolds’ house. Darkness shrouded the second floor. On the first floor, two dim, yellowy glows reminiscent of night-lights showed. Another similar glow came from the living room. Not a peep came from the house, not even a slight snore.
“Gray, you take the top floor. I’ll take the bottom. Tate, you’re in charge of the grounds.” Joe had portioned the areas according to their abilities.
Tate would do the grounds as a wolf. In the morning it would appear that a pack of wolves had demolished the carefully dug vegetable and flower beds that filled the Arnolds’ back and front yards.
Gray’s stealth would help him explore the bedrooms, and, provided no one woke, there would be no trace of his presence.
Joe’s agility meant he could make a quick exit, and his presence on the street could be taken as normal, even way past midnight.
They met back at the incline not twenty-five minutes later and headed to the house, going through the preserve. Joe’s heart rammed his throat when the cottage came into view with what looked like every light in his home blazing.
All of them ran like the wind.
Jesus. What had happened?
It took every gram of Joe’s discipline not to hurdle the deck steps, but stick to the plan and race around to the front of the house. He zipped across the lawn, slowed to a normal pace, took the steps two at a time, unlocked the door, and left it open for the others. He marched into the living room and halted on a dime.
Susie sat on the sofa speaking with Detective Sands. But the second she saw Joe, she flew to him.
“It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”
He studied her features. No cuts, bruises, or obvious wounds. Checked her scent—normal, maybe a hint of fear, but otherwise A-OK. “What happened?”
Barb strolled into the living room carrying a tray loaded with Mama Maria’s array of desserts. “I had a craving. Sorry it took so long. Kieran was fussing and tried to trick me into lying down.”
“A craving?” Joe zeroed in on her first sentence. He’d run into a conversation minefield.
“She’s pregnant.” Kieran relieved his wife of the tray and pointed to the couch. “Sit. Feet up.”
“Great news, huh?” Susie tiptoed to kiss Joe full on the mouth.
“I don’t think we need the good officers anymore, do you, Joe?” Gray stood next to Tate in front of the kitchen door.
Knowing explanations would go smoother if there weren’t any danger of eavesdroppers, Joe gritted his teeth and corralled the lead detectives into his study.
Frustration made Joe terser than usual in his dealings with Sands and Johnson. He thanked them for their services, paid them, and added a bonus. The living room was empty when Joe escorted the hired men off the premises. He wound his way to the kitchen to find everyone all talking at once.
The aroma of the coffee had him salivating. He poured a cup, ambled over to the bench, sat, hauled Susie onto his lap, and barked, “Pipe down and pay attention.”
Silence fell.
“You don’t have to raise your voice,” Susie admonished.
“Yeah. I did. Listen up. Tomorrow morning the shit’s going to hit the fan. We’ll have media everywhere and a ton of questions thrown at us. Before we all hit the sack, we need to get our stories straight. What happened while we were gone? Susie, Barb?”
“You tell them, Susie.” Barb, cradled in Kieran’s arms, had already chomped down two miniature tiramisus, yet she reached for another.
“When I went to give Barb a cup of tea, she told me that two of the doctors who examined her earlier told her she might be pregnant.” Susie shot Joe a quick glance and shook her head, the movement imperceptible to the others in the room.
He understood right away. Susie had opted not to give Barb the sedative. Joe didn’t know the affect sleeping pills had on an early pregnancy, but his mate had been right not to chance injuring the baby.
“I didn’t want Kieran to know until I knew for sure. We’ve had so many false alarms.” Kieran picked a mini chocolate confection from the tray and tickled Barb’s lips with the delicacy. She opened her mouth and chomped down the entire pastry.
“I called Azzo and asked him to buy two pregnancy tests and bring them up. By then, Barb was starving. She hadn’t touched her food at Chez Pierre, so we ordered some desserts to go. You know, two birds, one stone.” Susie rolled a shoulder.
Azzo was the first person she’d turned to? Joe intended to have a long talk with the stud.
“Azzo brought the tests, but his cousins had once again not shown up for their shift. The kitchen was totally behind and the desserts weren’t ready. So he said he’d send them later with Billy.”
“Both tests were positive.” Barb didn’t pause chewing but curved a hand over her stomach. “I’m still reeling.”
Tears glimmered in Kieran’s eyes, and he covered her hand with his.
“The doorbell rang, and I remembered that I hadn’t given Billy a tip the last two times he’d delivered, and I dashed to the door.”
Joe gave her a warning squeeze and glared.
“Honestly, Joe, I was in a house full of armed men. Anyway it was Billy with the food, but he was all red in the face and talking a mile a minute. Turns out he had spotted Jeffrey Arnold hiding behind Mama Maria’s dumpster. Long story short, he and Azzo called the police and the cops started a search of the neighborhood. Detective Sands and Johnson turned on all the lights in the house, even though I told them over and over that it wasn’t necessary.” Susie kissed his cheek, but he wasn’t appeased. She had once again disobeyed an order.
Tate braced one elbow on the counter. “You argued with men trained to protect?”
Susie crossed her eyes. “Seems to me there’s a midpoint between following procedures and being practical. For heaven’s sake, the good detectives were in the living room.”
“And you were trying to distract them so Kieran could sneak back into the house. Detective Johnson almost caught him.” Barb seemed to have finally scarfed enough food. She tucked her legs to one side and rested her head on Kieran’s shoulder.
“You could’ve distracted them with food or coffee. You don’t contradict an order from the men assigned to protect you. Honest to God, Susie, there are times when I long to thrash your ass.”
Gray voiced Joe’s thoughts to a tee. His palm tingled with the urge to spank her bottom.
Barb yawned. “Sorry. Long night.”
“Well, this all reinforces what we learned tonight.” Tate slumped into a chair opposite the dessert tray. “Bur
ied under those garden beds of the Arnolds’ are human bones.”
Susie gasped. “Human bones? Oh God. Joe and I saw Jeffrey digging a new bed yesterday. Was he burying bones then?”
When Susie shuddered, Joe squeezed her in reassurance. He decided not to tell everyone about Gemma Arnold’s generosity with vegetables and fruits. Crap, the notion bothered even him. He’d eaten fruit fertilized by human remains.
“No. The bones I found weren’t fresh. As far as I can tell, none of the bones in the yard are recent.” Tate reached for a pastry. “The bones in Hallie Forest Preserve are newer. It seems obvious now—Jeffrey’s a teacher, has access to young boys, and he’s reclusive. Question is—is the grandfather, Carmine, involved? And how much does Jeffrey’s mother know?”
“I can’t see how she wouldn’t have some suspicion. What I’m wondering is—are the vats in the preserve somehow connected with the bones on Hallelujah Mountain?” Gray, carrying a coffee mug, took a seat next to Tate.
Joe kicked Tate under the table. He didn’t want Barb reminded of Petey, and he didn’t want the discussion to veer onto that topic.
Tate got the message. “The cops must’ve checked the Arnolds right away. Did they find Jeffrey’s mother? And what about the old man?”
“They did. Gemma Arnold claims Jeffrey’s been having psychotic problems for some time now, and she hasn’t seen him for two days. But I told Detective Sands and Johnson we had seen Jeffrey in his backyard. I didn’t even mention he was digging.” Susie’s voice wavered a tad on the last sentence.
Joe massaged her knee. “He’ll be in lockup soon. Don’t even go there, babe. So Jeffrey’s on the loose. What about Carmine and Gemma?”
“I’m not sure. Detective Sands was waiting to hear from someone at the precinct,” Susie replied.
“I’ll check things out in a bit,” Tate volunteered.
“I can go track Jeffrey,” Gray offered.
“No. We’ve risked enough tonight.” Joe had to find a way to ensure the authorities incarcerated Jeffrey before end of day tomorrow. Either that or the man died. He’d take no chances with Susie’s safety.
Tate stretched his arms high. “Time to wrap up. The cops are going to be here early in the morning, and we’re all going to have to account for our time.”
The men had all decided not to disclose anything about Vance Ellison; better that the women learn of it from the news.
“Agreed. We’re all beat, and you and Gray have a long drive ahead of you. And Barb, you look dead on your feet. Okay. This is how it goes. Kieran and Barb didn’t leave us until near dawn.” Joe paused. Susie’s reaction to the next part of their alibi was crucial.
“That’s easy,” Susie declared. “And mostly true.”
“The rest of us were at my bachelor poker party hosted by Tate at his condo in the Weber apartment complex. Kieran opted not to attend because Barb fainted at the Chez Pierre party.”
Her jaw fell open.
They stared at each other.
“Any problem with that one, Susie?
Pin-drop, heart-attack silence.
“One small issue.” She studied her nails. “Who’re you marrying?”
“The first woman at this table who asks me.” His pulse went loco, his ever-hopeful dick went rigid, and his heart nudged his mouth.
“You really want me to ask you to marry me in front of all of them?”
“Hell yeah. I’m going to need every witness on the planet to get you to the altar.”
Her wicked mouth twitched. She gave him a sexy under-the-lashes peek, shoved off his lap, dropped onto one knee, and held his hand between both of hers. “Joe Albert Huroq, will you marry me and make me the happiest woman in the universe?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” He stood, scooped her up, and threw her in the air.
“Joe. Stop,” she squealed.
“Change of plan. Time to party.” Tate rubbed his hands together. “Margaritas for everyone, save Barb? Not that I believe you’re going to miss alcohol much with the way you’re stuffing your face. Leave a couple of desserts for the rest of us, why dontcha?”
They stayed up until almost dawn.
Barb and Kieran left first.
After Tate and Gray departed, Joe led Susie to their bed.
“I need a shower.” He had to erase the stench acquired that night from his pores.
Susie yawned. “Go ahead. I’m too keyed up to fall asleep anyway.”
He tucked her under the covers and, before heading for the bathroom, sent Sam O’Reilly a text message: Mission complete. Call in the big guns.
Joe manipulated the shower levers to attain his preferred heat level. He stepped under the streaming spray, his mind churning with all the questions left unanswered. Ellison had killed Petey. The coach had obviously been molesting boys for some time. Had Ellison been involved with the Arnolds? Was there some sort of pedophile ring in operation? And was the moonshine linked to anything at all?
Crap. Before Susie, a hotter-than-hades shower and a hard spray had eased all his muscular tension. After Susie, only one solution worked. He turned off the water, toweled off, threw the terry at the holder, and marched to the bedroom.
“Better?” Susie pulled the sheets back and patted the bed. “You looked coiled tight enough to bounce quarters.”
He slid onto the mattress and drank her in. Tousled hair, bare shoulders, sheets tucked under her arms, a faint blush staining her cheeks, and a welcome in her eyes he’d remember forever.
Gathering her into his embrace, he traced the stubborn chin he so loved and coiled a silken strand around his fingers. His erection leaked precum. He couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside her hot, moist pussy, to feel her milking him.
“Tell me again.”
Inky lashes fluttered, but she didn’t hesitate. “I love you.”
A heartfelt sigh emptied his lungs. “I love you.”
He shifted them onto their sides because the need to see her every reaction was urgent and palpable, then stroked a wayward lock into place and trapped their gazes.
“I was so scared tonight. If anything had happened to you, I don’t know how I’d have gone on living.” Her finger sketched his mouth, the featherlight touch sparking and crackling like static electricity.
Tenderness swamped him and made his voice gruff. “The feeling is more than mutual, mate mine.”
Mate. His mate. “You made me the happiest man in the universe tonight, Susan Elizabeth White.”
“Back atcha, my big, bad, mercenary.” Her saucy, one-sided grin spoke of future role-plays he intended to capitalize on.
“Like the mercenary, do you?” He suckled the hollow of her throat, and the spicy aroma of her arousal filled his nose.
“The mercenary turns me on.” She captured his wrist, licked his forefinger, and guided his hand between her thighs. “Feel how much you turn me on.”
Her boldness of late dizzied his senses. She was indeed slick, her pussy lips dewy and slightly swollen.
Joe ate at her lips, sipping and tasting. He explored the seam, licked the tips of her teeth when she opened for him, and blew a soft breath over the wetness. She gasped, and he thrust inside on the sweet suction, savoring the spearminty paradise.
Her fingers tangled in his hair. She pulled him closer and lifted one leg high over his hip, giving him unfettered access to her sex. Their tongues dueled—parry and thrust, retreat and advance—and he stroked her labia mimicking their tongue tactics.
She bit his lower lip, and the sharp nip zinged his stones into an excruciating, burning contraction.
Growling into her mouth, he rolled on top of her, captured her hands, and spread her arms wide, forcing her onto her back. He kneed her legs apart and settled his cock on her mound.
“Yes. Yes. Now, Joe.” She arched.
He slid his dick through her cream. “Legs wide.”
At once she complied, but he wasn’t finished. “Wider. Bend them. Right angles.”
“
Oh yes.” Her hot breath skipped across his throat, and her mouth followed, placing wet, suckling kisses over his collarbone. “Want to touch you.”
“Soon.”
“Always damn soon with you. Now.” She nibbled his ear.
Any blood left in his brain drained south. His cock throbbed, his balls pulsed sheer agony.
“Soon.” He ground on her pussy, angling the base of his dick so the hard rod rode her clit.
She sucked in a deep inhale. “Damn you, Joe. Please.”
“Not yet.” He bent to her ear, nosed her hair out of the way, and outlined the rim with small, feathery licks.
“Oh.” She twisted her head to the side in an invitation he couldn’t resist.
“I love your ears. Delicate, pretty with a plump lobe.” Not once did he stop his rhythmic cock-stroking of her clit. He kept the cadence tortuously slow but increased the pressure on each up-and-down glide.
Her nails scored his back.
She tried to lift off the mattress.
Joe let his weight bear down on her.
He took her lobe into his mouth, drawing his teeth lightly over the succulent flesh.
“Oh God.” She wrapped her legs around the small of his back and grabbed the flesh covering his trapezius muscles. Her grip pinched.
Precum spilled from his cock, and his stones clenched and jerked.
Joe reached down, separated her pussy lips, centered his dick on her clit, and rubbed a furious side-to-side motion, buffing the nub, changed into a circular grinding, then went back to his up-and-down sliding.
“Joe. Joe.”
He bit her lobe.
She wailed his name when the orgasm hit her.
Not able to wait a second longer, he reached behind, grabbed her ankles, and forced them to the bed. He drew back, positioned his cock at her center, and drove home.
She climaxed again. Her pussy sucked at his dick like a funnel tornado. So hot and tight and wet, the sensation pure, exquisite torment. He lost it and pistoned into her, pounding her labia.
