"You sure you're..."
He took in a sharp breath as she placed her hand on his thigh and slid it upward coming to rest on his chest. “I just ... Mike, will you kiss me?"
"If I do that, I don't know if it will stop at a kiss."
"Then it doesn't stop with a kiss. It takes us where we belong. Mike, I know it bothered you when we saw that man tonight. He seemed so sad and lonely. I don't want to be that kind of sad person, and I don't want you to be."
"I'm not sad, babe."
"No, I know you aren't sad and lonely, but I was feeling lonely all by myself.” She slid her leg up along his body, causing Mike to take another quick, short breath. She nestled her knee just below his balls. Claudia sighed before continuing her journey just a bit more until she reached his cock. “Will you kiss me, Mike?"
She leaned in to him, lightly feathering her lips along his. As their lips met, Mike wondered where she had gotten the courage to walk into his room and then to seduce him. Usually it seemed like she kept invisible walls, never wanting or needing human contact. Something in her had changed tonight.
"Are you sure?"
"More sure than I've ever been of anything in my life."
He kissed her mouth again, long and deep, waiting for her to change her mind. She didn't though. Even as he rolled her onto her back and slid between her thighs, she didn't stop him.
Mike had never been nervous about sex in his life but he was now. He'd wanted her from the moment he saw Claudia in that hospital bed. Now he was getting everything he ever wanted.
He slipped along her thigh and eased into her moist folds. She trembled. This was his chance to claim her for his own, and so he made love to her. He withheld until her soft moans released, and only then did he allow himself the same.
When they were finished, he rolled to the side. He couldn't be certain in the darkness, but he though her eyes looked glassy, full of tears. He looked harder until he saw one escape and roll down her cheek.
"Are you happy or sad?” he had to ask.
"Happy,” she replied, but he wasn't so sure.
* * * *
Waking slowly and probably more relaxed than he had been in a long, long time, Mike's eyelids lifted only slightly, just enough to take in the woman next to him. He wanted Claudia almost from the first time he saw her, even battered and bruised there was something special about her. When she woke and he started to get to know her, that special quality seemed even more pronounced. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that they would end up a couple. Oh, he wanted that, very much. But never thought it would happen. He was one of those guys that women usually called a “nice” guy, which meant no one wanted him. At least not for long. But here he was with Claudia, the woman he had long felt was “the one.” Now, here she was, in his bed, lying half on top of him, her thigh thrown possessively over him, her right arm across his chest with her hand tucked beneath his shoulder. It was as if they had always slept like this. If Mike had anything to say about it, they would sleep like this forever.
Before his thoughts, his hopes for a future with Claudia could start to fully take form he heard the insistent buzz of his pager. Reaching to his nightstand, he picked it up and saw the “1019—911"—return to station, ASAP, emergency code.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It had been a long night in the ER. Frank sat next to Bill. As far as they knew Jose didn't have any family here and they weren't sure who to call. Jose was in no condition to tell them. They still weren't sure what had happened.
"So Jose asked to leave early because his stomach hurts?"
"The guy looked bad. Very pale. I thought I'd take him home so I let him sit in the air-conditioned trailer until I could leave. It was only thirty minutes until quitting time. I walked out and came back to find him on the toilet. He came out, told me he was shitting blood.” Bill shook his head as if the shock still held over him. “I took him home, but the place was a dump. Nobody was there to take care of him, and he looked rough. I went to the store and picked up a few things for his stomach. When I got back, he was puking blood. That's when I decided to take him to the hospital."
"Bill Dyer?” A man in a white lab coat came out of the swinging double doors.
"Right here."
"Please come with me."
"Can he come to? He's the boss, the owner."
"Sure."
Frank thought it odd that they were led down the hall. They didn't stop at any of the curtained-off treatment sections with people hoping for a little help. He'd been to the emergency room a few times, but it never failed to give him the creeps. There was so much suffering, yet the nurses all acted like it was just another day. He supposed nothing shocked them anymore.
They were taken to a small corner office lined with books. In the center was a desk, a chart opened on the top. What caught Frank off-guard was the second man in the room. He looked familiar. He had dark hair, a set jaw, and hard eyes. A badge glinted from his belt, a Sig Sauer riding on his hip. Then he remembered that this was the guy with the redhead at the restaurant.
"Detective Mike Malone,” he introduced himself. “Will both of you have a seat?” He looked at the doctor. “You didn't tell me there were two people involved. I prefer to question people individually, but this time I'll make an exception."
"I'm Frank White. This is Bill Dyer."
Frank and Bill sat on the other side of the desk from him. A cop had arrived at the hospital and that told Frank that this was no flu Jose had. For a cop to be here, some serious shit was about to go down causing Frank to fidget in his seat.
"Did Jose Torres have any enemies that you know of?"
Frank shook his head and found Bill doing the same thing. Bill's face mimicked his own in the shocked expression. Jose was a good guy. He couldn't imagine anyone not liking him, much less wanting to hurt him.
"Did he eat or drink anything before getting sick?"
"Yes,” Bill spoke up. “He came into the office and grabbed a cup of coffee just after Frank left."
"Really? What's the address of the work site and the location of this coffee pot."
Bill gave him the address while Frank let the facts settle in his brain. An employee fell sick just after drinking the coffee. Coffee Catherine had offered him before she had left. He needed a few more facts.
"Please, this man isn't just an employee, he's a friend, he is close to me, and I need to know what happened."
"Who else was around a couple of hours before and right after?'
"My crew,” Frank told him.
"How many men?” This Malone guy kept firing questions.
"Eleven, no, twelve were on today."
"I'll need their names, addresses, phone numbers—Jose get along with them?"
"Jose got along with everyone,” Frank stated with Bill nodding his head in concurrence. “Jose is a great guy, hard worker. He sends at least half of his paycheck home to his family in Mexico. He's active in his community. He's the last guy in the world anyone would want to hurt."
The detective tapped his pen on the desk. “Will you allow a full search of the area without me going through the trouble of a search warrant?"
"Of course. Please, search everything."
"Doc, spell it out of them.” Mike nodded to the doctor.
The room was uncomfortably small and seemed to shrink as the doctor rose from his leaning spot in the corner. Something about that white coat gave him a presence, an authority that made Frank uncomfortable.
"Gentlemen, your friend is bleeding to death. We've given him Vitamin K to stop it but so much damage has been done that I'm not sure we can save him. We're giving him blood, thankfully he has a blood type that is in ready supply."
"Was he injured? I don't understand."
"The tests won't be back until tomorrow. Usually these tests take weeks, but this is an emergency. I personally suspect something along the lines of brodifacoum, talon, and maybe racumin in his body. It's some mix of anticoagulants. If the poison w
as old enough, there may even be some arsenic in it."
"Layman's terms, please."
"We think your friend got a giant dose of rat poison. We pumped his stomach, performed a gastric lavage, but didn't get much. From the hemorrhaging of the larynx, trachea, lungs, abdomen, and intestines, I'm guessing someone wanted him dead. I'm hoping too much damage hasn't happened to his circulatory system or they may still get their wish."
Frank felt like his stomach had fallen into his shoes. Catherine had offered him coffee. The poison had to be in the coffee pot. That bitch was trying to kill him again. And not quickly or easily this time. This time she was out to poison him.
"Bill, did you throw out today's coffee?"
He scratched his head for a minute. “No. I turned off the pot though."
"Detective, I know this is going to sound strange, but I'm willing to bet the coffee was poisoned."
Mike leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “What would make you think that? Do you have a suspect in mind?"
"My soon-to-be ex-wife Catherine. It wouldn't be the first time.” He looked at Bill whose eyes grew wide with understanding.
"No? You and your wife have some problems?"
"That would be an understatement. Look, I knew things with us weren't the best. Even Dr. Phil couldn't have helped our marriage. She ... well, she had affairs, she lied, cheated, just overall a really unpleasant person. I didn't know about them, the affairs, not for a long time. I found out she was screwing this guy, James. Right after this James died. It was a pure accident as I understand it. Anyway she up and decided to kill me not long after his death. Came after me one night with a gun and the only reason I'm alive today was because my dog went after her."
"You file a police report?"
"Well, yes and no. We ended up telling the police that it was an attempted robbery gone wrong. She was the only one hurt. From what I can tell, she got my gun and started to shoot me. My dog stopped her. The case would've been hard to prove anyway, and I couldn't believe Catherine would do something like that. You know? She was physically all messed up after. It wasn't like she asked for a divorce, which I would have given her. She just up and decided she was going to kill me. My dog messed up her face and eye. After it happened, pushing the matter seemed cruel. She was in the hospital, and underwent a face transplant—a new face, new eye and I just couldn't put her through a trial. I just couldn't tell anyone what she had tried to do."
"So you filed a false police report?"
Frank threaded his fingers through his hair, blew out a long breath, and sat shaking his head. “Yeah. I did. I just couldn't believe she would do that, and I couldn't destroy what little she had left of her life. Well, I hoped our marriage would get better. That maybe there would be a chance for us."
"So? She gets a new face, you go home, and things are good and she up and tries to kill you again?"
"Listen,” Bill broke in. “Frank stood by Catherine. The woman is a bitch, an out-and-out bitch. Sorry, Frank, if I'm speaking out of turn, but she is. The whole time she was in the hospital he went every day. He kept the reporters away from her. Did everything for her. We were all kind of surprised when Catherine went home from the hospital and things with Frank looked like they were going good."
"They were. For the first time in our marriage she cooked, cleaned up, my dog even liked her. We had the kind of marriage I always thought we could have."
"So if things were so good, why would she try to kill you now?"
Frank shrugged. This was so complicated. “That's a bit harder to explain. She started to remember what she was like before. When she first came out of the surgery and when she first came home from the hospital, her memory was a bit off. But then, it was like she started to remember the Catherine I'd been married to for so long and reverted back to that person.
"A few weeks ago, I decided I'd had enough. Told her I wanted her out of my house and I wanted a divorce. She decided she didn't want one, and it seems she decided if I didn't want her she was going to make me pay big time"
"So what happened today?” The cop kept his hard demeanor.
Frank told his story about Catherine's earlier visit. He left out how he had almost drank from that pot of coffee, how his cup might still be sitting there with the poison inside it. Even thinking about it made him cold.
"Do you know where I can find this Catherine ... Catherine?"
"White. As far as I know she's still using her married name."
Frank gave the detective his home address and a little background on Catherine's last run in with the law. The cop seemed surprised. Frank had to wonder what Mike would think if he knew the whole story about Catherine.
"Detective, be careful. My ex is a little crazy."
The detective gave him an odd look, like he was above some little woman and any trouble she might cause. Frank knew that look because he had shared the sentiment, not too long ago. Now he knew that dainty-looking ladies could pack a world of hurt.
"I'm serious. You'd really be surprised."
"Thank you, sir."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Coming up from a sleep-induced haze, Claudia felt across the sheets, looking for something, someone, but not sure what it was. Sliding her hand across the smooth cotton, the last bit of warmth seems to ebb out as she connected with the pillow. Blinking her eyes open, Claudia was at first bemused. Where am I? Mike! I made love with Mike!
She pulled his pillow toward her, burrowing close, inhaling his scent still lingering there ... a spicy cologne combined with the hint of sex still in the air. Where was he? After making love to her, why would he leave her in his bed without a word? “Mike?"
She sat up, still holding the pillow to her breast. “Mike?"
Starting to move to get up she spied a crookedly folded piece of paper on the nightstand closest to the side of the bed she was on. Reaching for it, at first she was afraid he had written to tell her that he was disgusted with her aggressiveness the night before and to leave.
Relief swept over her as she read,
Hey babe, got a page from work, be back before you know it.
"I bet you will be, Detective Malone.” Claudia leaned back against her pillow, absently touching Mike's, replaying in her mind what had happened the night before. She hadn't really planned to seduce Mike. In fact, sleeping with him had been the farthest thing from her mind. Part of her supposed she knew that eventually this would happen, that they would make love. But another part of her felt that they could only be friends. Well, last night changed that.
She thought back again to the man in the restaurant. It was more than just the sadness about him. It was like she knew him, but he didn't acknowledge her. If they were friends or coworkers or even past lovers, he would have at least acknowledged her. Oh, the guy looked her over, stared at her through part of dinner, but it wasn't like he recognized her. It was just like they seemed to have some sort of connection. But she wasn't about to check it out with Mike there.
She had felt Mike tense whenever she looked at the man, and Mike had followed him with his eyes. But it didn't seem Mike knew him either.
"Mike.” His name felt strange on her lips. “Mike."
A short while later Claudia dozed off again, wrapped around Mike's pillow as if she held on to a lover.
* * * *
Mike found her hugging her pillow when he returned. After quickly pulling off his shirt, shucking his socks and jeans, he approached the bed. He had been so rushed when the page came in, rather than make more noise than necessary, he had gone commando to the call. Now, climbing back between the sheets the scent of sex and a well-loved woman hit him, making him hard all over again. He began mentally debating whether to wake Claudia or just snuggling her until she woke when she came partially awake.
"Mike."
"Hey, go back to sleep.” Although sleep was the last thing on his mind.
She reached for him, cuddling close. “I was dreaming about you."
"Yeah?"
> "Yeah. I was dreaming you came into bed and kissed me.” She smiled sleepily.
"No dream, babe, no dream."
"No?"
"No.” He lowered his head toward hers and greeted her with the kiss.
She parted her thighs as Mike rolled her on to her back, her arms coming around him, massaging the smooth skin and hard muscles of his upper arms and shoulder blades. Her “mmm” sent shards of pure desire from her lips to his groin.
Mike had never wanted for female companionship. He supposed the attraction was the “bad boy” look he often had when working undercover as a detective. Countless women tried to “save,” “rescue” or “reform” him. He didn't need rescuing or reforming, he just needed someone solid in his life—someone who wanted him for himself and didn't feel a need to change him. Claudia was special. She accepted him for himself. He'd hoped their friendship would turn to romance. Now he hoped she wasn't in his bed out of gratitude, but because she really wanted him.
He deepened the kiss, his hand covering her breast, kneading it while he rubbed his knee over her mons. The way she touched him seemed as if she knew each erogenous zone on his body, setting him on fire for her.
"I need you, babe, I need to be in you."
"That's where I want you, Mike, up-close and personal."
He slid into the warm wetness, the contact making him feel like he couldn't breathe for the pleasure. When she slid her hands to grasp his butt, squeezing each muscular cheek he wanted to tell her to stop, that if she didn't he would come there and then. Yet, somehow, he couldn't frame the words because it felt so good, so very good.
"Claudia, Cl ... ahhhh."
They lay entwined with each other a few minutes, Mike in a state of bliss before he realized he could be crushing her with his weight.
"No, Mike, no, stay, stay inside me until you slide out naturally."
"I don't want to crush you."
"I need to feel you there, just a little longer.” She squeezed his cock with her inner muscles, causing him to gasp again in pleasure.
The action of her body, the vision of her half-lidded eyes, made him rise to the occasion a second time. He began again, taking his pleasure and giving hers at the same time. This time went slower. He memorized her face, her eyes, her mouth. No other woman had ever captivated him so, and he didn't want to stop. Deep inside he feared losing her, and he made love to her until he couldn't hold his feelings back any longer. Again their calls of ecstasy filled the room, his in time with hers.
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