On Dangerous Ground

by Maggie Price

  “We’ll never be able to prove that.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. If this was the can Spider tossed away—and I’m pretty sure it is—his prints may be on the part of the metal that’s protected from the elements.”

  Sky nodded. “I can check the can’s rim for saliva. I might be able to get the DNA of the person who drank from the can.”

  Grant stowed the evidence envelope in the trunk, then slid into the driver’s seat. The Porsche’s engine roared to life when he twisted the key in the ignition. “We’ll swing by Wade’s garage and ask him if that brand of soda has enough sugar in it to disable the cruiser.”

  “If his answer’s yes, have him cut a length out of the fuel line so I can take it back to the lab.” As she spoke, Sky adjusted a vent that blasted cool air. “I’ll see if I can find traces of the same soda.”

  Grinning, Grant lightly snagged her arm and leaned toward her. He caught the darkening of her eyes before his lips settled on hers, softly, slowly.

  “Partners, Milano,” he murmured against her mouth while his thumb ran up and down the vein in her wrist where her pulse skittered then began to race. “Did I mention how anxious I am to get you back to the city?”

  “I’m looking forward to getting there myself.” He heard the mix of nerves and desire in her soft-as-smoke voice.

  Though he wanted her mindlessly, Grant knew he would take more care with her than he had with any other woman.

  “Just wait and see, Milano.” He turned her hand over in his, then placed a soft kiss against her wrist. The quick jerk and scramble of her pulse had his own pulse skipping a beat. “Ours is going to be a great partnership.”

  An hour later, with a section of the cruiser’s fuel line stowed in the trunk, the red Porsche slashed along the interstate like a bolt of fire. From the passenger seat, Sky listened to Grant’s conversation with the Superintendent of Records at Oklahoma City’s University Hospital.

  “Sergeant…Pierce, is it?” the superintendent asked, his voice sounding thready over the car’s speaker phone.

  “That’s right.”

  “Sergeant Pierce, I’m sure you’re aware I can’t discuss a patient file on the basis of a phone call. Without court authorization, that would be a breach of confidentiality.”

  Sky found herself wondering if the superintendent looked as prissy as he sounded.

  “I know the law, Mr. Hakel.” As if he were facing the man, Grant narrowed his eyes at the small speaker installed in the leather dash. “You’ll get that authorization, but I’ve got a critical situation here. Two women are dead—”

  “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, Sergeant. If I were to reveal information from Mr. Whitebear’s file, the hospital could be held liable.”

  “Not to mention yourself,” Grant grated.

  “True.” Hakel paused. “I need a warrant in order to release information.”

  “Right. I’ll get back to you on that.” Uttering a mild curse, Grant stabbed a button on the cell phone.

  Sky shifted sideways in her seat. “I guess we expected him to say that.”

  “Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow,” Grant muttered, flicking her a look of total irritation. “Our big problem is at this point we don’t have enough to take to a judge to get a warrant. First, we’ve got no documented proof that a bone-marrow transplant can change a person’s DNA. Second, it’s just a guess that Spider might have been the one who donated bone marrow to his father, and Ellis isn’t in the mood to clue us in.” Grant shoved a hand through his hair. “Hell, all I’m sure about is that Mavis Benjamin and Carmen Peña are both dead, and whoever killed them has a certain DNA, which no longer matches the man who’s in jail for one of those murders. Where I’m standing on these cases, I have to look up to see the bottom.”

  Sky blew out a breath. “It doesn’t help that Professor Linley is out of town until tomorrow afternoon,” she added, thinking about the appointment she’d made with the professor’s secretary when she called the university from Wade’s garage. “If he can’t come up with some scientific data to back up our assumptions that the bone-marrow transplant is the thing that changed Ellis’s DNA, we’re back at square one.”

  “I’m not waiting around, hoping something will fall into my lap. We’ll swing by the station when we get back to town. The run I requested on Spider’s background should be finished by now. I can at least start trying to get a lead on his whereabouts when both homicides occurred.”

  “Maybe you’ll find something.” Sky raised a shoulder. “There’s nothing more I can do in the lab on these cases. From a scientific standpoint, Ellis’s blood has told us everything it’s going to.”

  Grant clicked on the blinker and swung into the passing lane to get around a slow-moving truck pulling a trailer filled with cattle. “If that’s the case, it sounds like you’ve got the night free.”

  The sudden low timbre of his voice sent a sensual awareness feathering up Sky’s spine. “I thought you just said you’re spending the evening going through paperwork on Spider.”

  The smile that curved Grant’s mouth was slow and lazy, and she decided it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. “I’ve always found that work goes faster when I have a partner to help me engage in deductive reasoning.” As he spoke, he hit a button on the dash; seconds later, a bluesy tune poured out of the speakers.

  Sky lifted an eyebrow. “Deductive reasoning?”

  He reached for her hand, his fingers linking with hers. She felt the warmth of his palm against hers and thought about how comfortable a sensation his touch had become.

  “Your place or mine tonight, partner?” he asked, his voice a soft slide on the cool air.

  She closed her eyes for the space of a heartbeat while her mind scrolled back six months to the moment when they stood in his bedroom and she’d stepped into his arms. She suppressed a shiver at the thought of the panic that had engulfed her. That night seemed like a lifetime ago. She had healed, she reminded herself. Faced her demons and won.

  “Your place,” she answered quietly.

  “You got it. I’ll follow you home from the station so you can pick up a change of clothes for tomorrow.”

  The music faded away, to be replaced by a female singer crooning a love song in a smoky voice. Anticipation heated Sky’s blood while she stared unseeingly out the windshield, her nerves humming. They were good nerves, she thought. Strong and sturdy nerves, not cowardly ones. She wasn’t afraid of taking that last step into intimacy, not with Grant. She stared down at his long, tanned fingers entwined with hers. For her, to whom a man’s touch hadn’t always been gentle, hadn’t always been kind, a touch like Grant’s took away her fear.

  Did she love him? Surprised by the direction her thoughts had veered, she slid him a look beneath the dark fringe of her lashes. In the deepening afternoon sunlight, his face was an alluring arrangement of planes and shadows. So much was happening inside her. So much, so fast. Lowering her gaze, she chewed her bottom lip. Maybe she had already stepped off the cliff and fallen in love. She didn’t know.

  The sudden clench of Grant’s hand jerked her gaze back to his face. His jaw had gone tight, his eyes hard and unyielding. Wordlessly she followed his gaze out the windshield to the highway sign that marked the exit for Ventress, Oklahoma.

  “Did you have a bad experience in Ventress?” she asked.

  His chin came up. “No. Why?”

  “Because you’re glaring at the town’s exit sign and about to cut off the circulation in my fingers.”

  His hand instantly slid from hers and settled on the steering wheel. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” The white-knuckle grip he had on the wheel sent a ripple of unease down her spine. “Grant, is something wrong?”

  “I’ve got things on my mind, that’s all.” His voice was light and even, but that didn’t prevent her stomach from clutching with the same unsettled feeling that had plagued her after she told him about the rape.

  The soft ring of the
cell phone had them both shifting their attention.

  “Pierce,” Grant said after pushing a button on the dash.

  “So, you’re still alive,” a deep, masculine voice boomed out of the phone’s speaker.

  Grant grinned. “Hi, bro. How are things?”

  “Pierce Oil stock is up five points. I’m making you a ton of money, you slacker.”

  “Somebody’s got to keep the world safe for oil moguls,” Grant countered, giving Sky a wink.

  Grant interrupted the good-natured expletive that came across the line. “Watch your language. There’s a lady present. Sky Milano, meet Nathan Pierce.”

  “Hello, Nathan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sky. If my little brother doesn’t behave himself, just let me know. I’ll hammer him into dust.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grant chuckled. “What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to remind you about tonight.”

  From the corner of her eye, Sky saw the instant tensing of Grant’s fingers on the steering wheel. “Tonight?” he asked through his teeth.

  “It’s Oliver’s birthday, Uncle Grant. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  Sky heard the low, frustrated groan that rumbled up Grant’s throat. “I didn’t forget. His present is bought and wrapped.”

  “Good. Oliver’s requested hamburgers cooked out on the grill for his birthday dinner. Amelia said to tell you we’ll eat at seven. Sky, you’re invited.”

  She shook her head as if Nathan could see her. “Thanks, but—”

  “We’ll be there,” Grant piped in before saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

  “Grant—”

  “Save your breath, Milano. You’re coming with me.”

  “It’s a family dinner. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You and I have plans, lady, and I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.” His gaze lowered to her mouth, then came back to rest on her eyes. “Not for the whole night. Not for one second.”

  When he reached again for her hand, she felt the twin impact of the power of contact and the surge of need. “That okay with you?” he asked softly.

  A flash of seductive anticipation had her throat going as dry as dust. “More than okay.”

  Chapter 10

  “Pow! Pow! Die, you slimy galactic traitor!”

  “I’m gut shot,” Grant moaned. Clutching his middle, he staggered backward across the dimly lit flagstone terrace. “You win, Clingor,” he groaned, then coughed twice for effect. “I relinquish control of Planet Earth.”

  Oliver Pierce let out a high-pitched whoop. Holding his new death-ray gun high above his head, he sprang up and down in victory, untied laces flopping around his scuffed tennis shoes.

  “Death to aliens!” The smile he beamed at his uncle was minus the front tooth that a baseball had knocked out the week before. “Trent gets his next.” With that, Oliver raced off across the expansive manicured lawn to massacre his younger brother.

  Chuckling, Nathan Pierce handed Grant a can of soda he’d retrieved from inside the house. “How many times has he nuked you since he opened your gift?”

  “I think that makes an even dozen,” Grant said, rubbing at imaginary wounds on his stomach.

  Nathan settled into an inviting wrought-iron lounger and stretched out his long, jeans-clad legs. “You deserve death for giving Oliver a galactic death-ray gun with the android-annihilation sound feature,” Nathan said dryly. “He’ll wipe out anything that moves for the next couple of weeks, and Amelia and I will get to hear every blast.”

  Grant grinned. “I’ll rest easier knowing the universe is safe.” As he took a seat in the chair beside his brother, thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “We can use the rain,” Nathan observed.

  “Yeah.” Grant sent an idle glance upward. A full moon skimmed in and out of fat gray clouds, illuminating the pristine lawn beyond the terrace in subdued shades of gray and black, with occasional patches of white. He and Nathan had grown up on the sprawling, oak-lined estate with cobblestone walks. After their parents died in a plane crash, the sons inherited the land and oil company in a fifty-fifty split. Grant had insisted Nathan move his family into the big house that edged the terrace where they now sat. Grant had settled into the guest house on the opposite side of the swimming pool where submerged lights turned the water a shimmering turquoise.

  “I like your chemist,” Nathan said.

  Grant followed his brother’s gaze to the far end of the terrace bordered by flowers and shrubs. Amelia and Sky stood beneath the soft spill of a gas lamp, examining a flower box blooming with miniature white roses. The easy smile on Sky’s face told him she was enjoying his sister-in-law’s good-natured company. Sky’s easy interaction with his two lively nephews had earned her the honor of getting nuked several times by Oliver’s galactic death-ray gun.

  “I like her, too.” Grant took a sip of the ice-cold soda while studying Sky over the can’s rim. She had changed into a coral knit top and matching gauzy skirt that flared around her ankles in the warm night breeze that had turned heavy with the scent of rain. Her loose hair flowed down her back like a shaft of black velvet. He knew from experience that it felt just as soft.

  “A lot,” he added.

  “She’s different from any woman you’ve brought around before. In fact, she’s the first you’ve actually invited to a family dinner.”

  “She’s the first one I ever wanted to bring.”

  Falling silent, Grant watched while Sky examined the roses. Her smile was genuine, her profile delicate and clear-cut, completely feminine.

  As if sensing his observation, she glanced across her shoulder, her smile widening when she met his gaze. She looked relaxed and at ease, but he could almost feel the nervous tension behind that smile.

  The thought of all they would share later that night tightened his chest. He wanted to touch her, so much that he fought the urge to walk across the terrace and pull her into his arms. Closing his eyes for a brief instant, he realized his feelings for her had intensified from even what they had been a few days ago. How deep those feelings went, he didn’t yet know. All he knew was how natural it felt to have her here with his family. How natural to have her at his side. How natural it was for him to want to right the injustice she’d suffered when her rapist walked.

  His fingers clenched against the unbidden thought that blasted like sniper fire from the dark recesses of his subconscious.

  “Want to tell me the reason you’ve been so quiet all evening?”

  Grant slid his brother a look. Nathan had inherited their mother’s dark hair, olive skin and talent for quietly observing things most other people missed.

  “I’ve got a couple of cases giving me fits.”

  “I’ve been around you when you’ve had cases giving you fits, bro. This is different. What’s up?”

  Grant set his jaw. He had always been able to talk to Nathan. Always shared his thoughts, his deepest secrets. He wasn’t sure how wise it was to reveal his thoughts now.

  Scowling, he stared off into the darkness beyond the swimming pool. If talking to Nathan would somehow help him get a grip on the control that seemed to edge farther from his grasp each second, it was worth a shot.

  “When Sky was in college, some slime drugged her, kidnapped her and raped her.” Although he kept his voice quiet, Grant couldn’t keep the anger that bubbled inside him from lacing his words. “She knew who it was but couldn’t prove it, so he walked. He didn’t pay for what he did.”

  Beneath the terrace lights, wariness slid into Nathan’s eyes. “In college,” he stated. “That was what, six, seven years ago?”

  “Nine. The bastard victimized her in the worst possible way, crippled her emotionally. She’s just now getting her life back together.” Losing his taste for the soda, Grant set the can on a nearby glass-topped table. “She never got justice.”

  Nathan leaned forward slowly, propping a foot on either side of the lounger. “You sound like you thi
nk you’re the man to deliver that justice.”

  “Why the hell not? I know the bastard’s name,” Grant grated. “He lives in Ventress. I drove within five miles of the town twice today. If Sky hadn’t been with me, I probably would have taken a side trip.”

  “And done what?” The cautious tone in Nathan’s voice matched the look in his dark eyes.

  “I don’t know.” Rising, Grant walked a few steps and propped his forearms on top of the wooden railing that framed the terrace. Thunder rumbled again; the wind picked up, stirring the dark shapes of the oaks that dotted the grounds. “Just knowing the slime is out there walking around eats at me. I’ve tried to let it go, tried to push it out of my head. The cop inside me can’t get free of it.”

  “Not just the cop,” Nathan said, joining him at the railing. “If another man laid a finger on Amelia, I’d want to go after him, just like you. I’d want to kill him.” Nathan paused. “I’d want to, but I wouldn’t.”

  “Because two wrongs don’t make a right,” Grant shot back. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d told himself that since the night Sky had told him about her ordeal. Where Kirk Adams was concerned, no words of wisdom seemed to matter.

  “True, they don’t,” Nathan agreed. “More important, I couldn’t do something like that, then face Oliver and Trent.”

  Grant felt a fist tighten in his stomach. “I don’t have sons.”

  “You’ve got two nephews who think you walk on water. And if you go after this guy, you may not get the chance to have kids of your own. He’s the one who deserves to have his life ruined. Not you. I know you, bro. You’re not the type of man who could take the law into his own hands and just walk away from it.”

  “In my own hands.” Staring down at his clenched fists, Grant pulled in a deep breath, thick with the scent of the advancing storm. “That bastard makes me want to forget I wear a badge. I want to kill him for hurting her like that, Nathan. Destroy him with my bare hands.” He raised his chin and met his brother’s gaze. “I know how to do it. I know how to do it and not leave a trace.”