Family Honor

by Jamie Hill

  "I could use a shave," he admitted.

  "No way." Mel captured his face in her hands. "I love the beard. Please don't shave it off."

  His eyes twinkled. He leaned forward and their mouths came together. Mel swooned and leaned into him, skin on skin. She became aroused and it was obvious he did, too.

  He pulled back and whispered, their lips touching, "We better hit the shower or we'll never make it in there. I could take you right here and now."

  "I could let you." She sighed with pleasure and led them into the bath. After turning on the faucet and checking the temperature, she stepped into the tub/shower combo and tugged him in after.

  He tossed a foil packet into the soap dish and picked up the green bar of soap. Mel twisted her ponytail into a bun and clipped it up out of the way. As water poured over her, Nate used the soap to lather her up, leaving no inch of skin without suds.

  She writhed with pleasure at his ministrations until she could bear no more. Reaching for the soap, she began lathering him. Her touch must have inspired the same reaction in him. After a few minutes he groaned and reached for the condom. "Enough already," he growled in her ear. "Need you now."

  "Whatever you want, baby," she murmured and let him take the lead.

  He sheathed himself and spun her around so she faced the wall. He pried her legs apart and bent her forward, taking her from behind with one smooth stroke.

  Mel gasped and clutched the shower wall. "Yess," she hissed.

  Slow, steady strokes worked into deep, fast pummeling. Mel couldn't see him but heard his shallow, panting breath. He's close. The mere thought sent her reeling over the edge into bliss so divine, she never wanted it to end.

  Nate shouted his release and grasped her firmly. When they were both spent, his body pressed hers against the wall. He cleared his throat and pulled out quickly. "Uh, sorry."

  Mel's limbs were rubber. She could barely move but managed to face him and smile. "Sorry for what? Giving me one of the top five orgasms of my life? No need to apologize, believe me."

  He peeled off the used rubber and reached around the shower curtain to dispose of it. "Top five? Damn, I thought I'd rank a little higher."

  She laughed. "Don't worry. After this weekend, you hold all the top five spots."

  He grinned and rubbed his nose against hers. "You hold the top spot for me, too, gorgeous. No, I was apologizing for smashing you into the wall."

  Wrapping her arms around him, she snuggled her face against his chest. "I didn't notice. I'm supremely happy right now."

  "I'm close, just have this one small problem."

  She looked at him. "What?"

  "We're losing the hot water! It's freaking freezing over here!"

  She felt the chilly water that pelted his back.

  She fumbled for the knob and turned the heat up. "There's a couple minutes of warm water left. Hurry and clean up, and we'll get out."

  "That's better." Nate sighed. They washed each other once more, then found a couple of towels and dried off before stumbling to the bed.

  "Hungry?" she asked as she tossed the covers aside.

  "Maybe later. I'd rather lie here a while and hold you, first."

  "I totally agree."

  Nate released the clip in her hair and tugged out the ponytail holder. He smoothed the locks around her shoulders and pulled her into the curve of his arm as they lay down. Using his one free hand, he tossed a sheet over them.

  Mel cuddled close, deciding that in his arms was her new favorite place to be in the whole world. A thought struck her and she inhaled with fear. Tomorrow is Tuesday. Five days. A tear escaped and before she could stop them, more followed.

  "Hey, what's wrong?" Nate touched her chin and brought her gaze up to meet his.

  "I just realized. Tomorrow makes five days."

  He wiped the tears away with his thumb. "I know. I'll call my chief in the morning. I think I can get a couple of days extension since we're so close on this thing."

  She shook her head. "I'm not talking about the case. Right now, I don't care about the stupid case. I'm talking about us."

  "I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead. "I'm sure it seems cold, but I have to care about the case. It's what brought me here. And it's got to be the center of my focus. Once we wrap it up, then I can move on to other important matters. Like finding out how long the commercial flights take between Wichita and San Antonio. I doubt they'll let me use the FBI jet on the weekends."

  Mel perked up. "Weekends? So, this doesn't have to end when the case is over? Because if it did, I was starting to hope we might never solve it."

  Nate squeezed her arm. "Don't ever say that. We've got to get that madman off the streets and you know it."

  "I know." Mel sniffed. "I'm just not ready to let go of this." She corrected herself and said what she really meant. "I'm not ready to let go of you."

  He rolled on top of her and kissed her long and hard, pausing only long enough to catch a breath before doing it again. Within moments he'd retrieved another condom from the nightstand and they were as one, with passion like she'd never felt before burning inside her. She craved him, needed him, and took all he had to offer. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, sated and exhausted, Nate spooned her and buried his face in her hair. Mel heard his rhythmic breathing and thought he'd fallen asleep. She closed her eyes, drowsy and content to do the same thing.

  She heard him whisper, "I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to let go of you."

  Her eyes popped open. She smiled, and closed them again.

  It seemed like mere moments later when she woke to her phone ringing. She grabbed it and squinted at the clock. Six-thirty a.m. Mel groaned. "Curtis," she snapped into the phone.

  "Please don't tell me we have another one," Nate muttered next to her.

  "Shhh," she motioned to him. There was hesitation on the other end of the phone. "Yes, hello?"

  "Detective Curtis? This is Rayelle, um, Juicy. From downtown, you know?"

  Mel forced her thoughts to focus. "Of course. Rayelle is a pretty name. Can I call you that?"

  "Yeah, whatever. I wasn't sure I should bother you, but I got worried. Sheila never made it back last night. After you and that FBI guy talked to us, we agreed to check in with each other a few times a day. She always called me when she finished up. She didn't call last night, and she's not answering her phone."

  "Damn. Okay Rayelle, you did the right thing. I'm going to send some patrol units looking for her. Listen, I know you don't like to give it out, but this would be a lot easier if I had your phone number."

  "Sure."

  Mel nudged Nate. "Write this down."

  He grabbed his cell and used it to save the number.

  "555-2361."

  Mel repeated the number and Nate typed it. "We'll be in touch Rayelle. Find someplace safe and sit tight for now, will you? Stay off the streets."

  "I will. Thanks." She disconnected the call.

  Mel punched her phone off and looked at Nate.

  "Who's Rayelle?"

  "Juicy. She called to tell me Sheila never made it home last night."

  Chapter Seven

  Nate threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. "Well, shit. Good thing we showered last night. Wish we'd eaten, though. I'm starved."

  Mel smiled. "Me too. I'll make some calls and get the patrol units started. We can grab something on the way in."

  "If this is our guy, he's really escalating now. It's only been a day since they found Sissy."

  She nodded and spoke to her captain, then Stone. Nate watched her dress and holster her Glock.

  "Damn, that's sexy." He secured his own weapon and stepped in front of her. "A woman with a gun as big as mine." He swept her into his arms for a long, breathless kiss. When they separated, he smiled. "Good morning."

  "Good morning." Her face flushed and her eyes appeared unfocused.

  He grinned again, loving the genuineness of her. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her emotions displa
yed on her face. I could get used to waking up with this woman.

  As if she'd read his mind, she murmured, "You think we'll ever get to wake up leisurely? Lay here smooching for a while, a good morning quickie, maybe breakfast in bed?"

  Nate laughed. "Sounds like my idea of the perfect morning. We'll plan on that, okay?"

  "It's a deal." Mel rubbed her hands over his scruffy face and kissed him. "I'll get food and meet you at the office."

  He rubbed his nose on hers. "See you there." On his way out he called over his shoulder, "Something with bacon, please!"

  "You got it." Mel smiled sweetly. The expression on her face made it very hard to leave. Had they not received the call about Sheila, he'd turn around and they'd both have been late to work. But happy, very happy. He smiled.

  Nate walked out to his car and realized he was happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time. There was just one thing standing in the way of total joy. The slasher. Hopefully, they'd make some headway on the case today. Regardless, he needed to call his chief tonight. He'd texted back and forth with his team a few times. They'd found the missing boy in Tacoma and had returned to San Antonio. They'd expect him to be back in time to go with them on their next assignment.

  Can't go yet. Mel's ambivalence was rubbing off on him. He shook his head. Need to solve this case. Once that was done, he'd give serious thought to some strategies for making things work with Mel.

  The thought cheered him, and he drove to the office with a slightly lighter heart.

  Reality hit home when he entered the bullpen and saw the anxious faces of the team. "Anything on Sheila?" he asked quickly.

  "Nothing yet," Stone replied.

  "That's good. If she was dead, someone would probably have found her by now. We're going to proceed under the assumption that she's still alive."

  Stone glanced at the door. "Wonder what's keeping Mel?"

  Nate thought quickly. "She, uh, texted me that she was grabbing some breakfast. Said she'd be here in a few."

  "Good."

  Becker made a face. "She'll never keep her figure eating fast food all the time. I eat an egg white omelet every morning, then run for forty-five minutes. It's all about discipline."

  "Mel has discipline," Stone defended his partner. "She just likes a good fried roll every now and again."

  Nate grinned. "Can't blame her there." He spotted her entering the room and went to help with the food.

  "Lattes for everyone," she announced. "And I got some extra bacon and egg biscuits just in case anyone else is hungry."

  "I'm practically drooling from the smell." He took the bag and lowered his voice. "Remind me not to skip dinner next time. I mean, skipping dinner was good, but remind me to eat something later."

  She laughed. "I'd be happy to do that."

  He raised his brows in feigned shock. "You are bad. Very, very bad." He carried the food into the war room where they ate and talked about Sheila.

  Nate picked a chunk of bacon out of his biscuit sandwich and savored it before gobbling it down.

  Becker shook her head. "Pure poison. Bacon will kill you."

  Licking his fingers, Nate grabbed another bite of the savory pork and told it, "If loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right."

  "Oh my God!" Mel and Stone erupted in laughter.

  Reeder walked in with Marshall on his heels. "Having a party in here? The beat cops are out there looking for the missing woman. What are you all doing?"

  "Just finishing breakfast Captain." Mel stood and threw her trash away. "We're ready to get busy now."

  "I should hope so. What's next on this thing?"

  "Why don't you let us strategize for a few minutes, then I'll come and give you an update." Mel's smile could have melted an ice cube.

  "I'll be waiting," Reeder sneered and stomped out of the room.

  "Who ate his Post Toasties?" Marshall watched the captain go. "Bet he wasn't up with colicky twins half the night."

  "Aw, I'm sorry." Mel teased. "Want to curl up over there and catch a nap?"

  "Maybe I do. Actually, I'd like to bust this asshole and get back to something more mundane in my office."

  "We're all in agreement there," Nate steered the conversation around to the case. "So where do we start today, that's the question."

  Marshall flipped open his notebook. "I did some checking into the Webb school. Burton Webb is the owner. He has three schools in various parts of town. His son Dick is the maintenance man at the Collins Lane location. Would you like to know what I found in Webb's history?"

  "Do tell," Mel said.

  "Nothing.Nada. Niente. Prior to a year ago, the man and his son didn't exist."

  "Do tell more," Nate prodded. "What do you mean, 'didn't exist'?"

  "Exactly what I said. They appeared from out of nowhere about a year ago, according to tax records."

  "Now that just can't happen," Stone commented. "So who were they before, and where did they come from?"

  "I was hoping someone could tell me," Marshall replied.

  Nate punched buttons on his phone. "A good question for the FBI analysts. If anyone can track their history, our people can."

  "Your people," Mel teased. "Who are you, Moses?"

  He feigned an irritated expression and muttered, "Bite me."

  Mel leaned back in her chair. "Haul it on over here."

  He turned his back to her and gave instructions to Steve. The analyst promised to report in quickly.

  Nate was amazed at how quickly, when his phone rang ten minutes later. "Willis," he snapped, figuring it couldn't be good news.

  "Nate, you gotta listen, man." Steve sounded excited. "We hit the big time with this Webb fellow."

  His heart leaping into his throat, Nate croaked, "I'm going to put you on speaker, Steve." He punched the button and set his phone on the table.

  "Roger that. Okay, so Burton Webb has the same fingerprints as a barber from Enid, Oklahoma name of Ted Burton. About three years ago this one and the same Ted Burton meandered into a Stop and Go for a tank of gas and a Slurpee. On his way out, he tossed a couple bucks down and bought two quick pick lottery tickets. Low and behold, he won. Dude raked in a hundred and fifty million dollars."

  "Holy shit!" Nate spoke for the whole room.

  "Oh, to be that lucky." Stone sighed. "How great would that be?"

  Steve replied, "Would it be great? Friends and family you never knew you had come crawling out of the woodwork. Strangers try to trip themselves on your property so they can sue you. Some say it's great, others think it's a curse."

  Mel said, "So you could see why a person might change his identity. Fresh start and all that."

  "Especially if that person was Ted Burton." Steve's voice rose an octave. "Listen closely my friends, this just gets better. Burton had a son, name of Dickie."

  "Dick Webb, the maintenance man," Nate confirmed.

  "I'd be surprised if he could hold down that job. Dickie, as he was known back then, had—shall we say—issues. His condition was officially termed Antisocial Personality Disorder. It basically meant he had a hard time getting along with people. ASP appears during adolescence, sometimes earlier. Behavior patterns include little concern or indifference toward others, fighting and irresponsibility, none of which he would have cared about."

  "Bet he was popular in high school. Not." Mel commented.

  Nate nodded at her, his excitement building.

  "Wasn't there long," Steve continued. "It seems Ted Burton worked long hours in his barbershop, trying to earn a living for his family. His wife didn't want to work, or so she said, which left Ted to work overtime making ends meet."

  "Or so she said?" Marshall inquired.

  "She might have taken a job on the side. Details are fuzzy about that. What is known is that one day Dickie came home from school early and found his mom entertaining a male visitor in her room. John or paramour, the world will never know. Dickie slashed both their throats with a carving knife. Butchered the hell out of them
. Was sitting there in the blood when Ted got home from work."

  The room erupted with amazed comments and chatter. "Shhh!" Nate raised a hand. "Finish the story, Steve. What happened to Dickie?"

  "He was sent to a state hospital. They used to call them Asylums for the Criminally Insane, which was a much cooler name. Anyway, Dickie lived there under lock and key until his father struck it rich with the lotto. At some point after that, the kid came up for a hearing and two doctors testified that he'd been fully rehabilitated and was no longer a threat to society. He got out, but of course they couldn't stay in Enid where everyone knew them. The Burtons disappeared at the same time the Webbs appeared in Wichita."

  "Lucky us," Stone muttered.

  Nate's mind raced. "Are those doctors still practicing?" he asked. "The ones that testified on Dickie's behalf."

  "Why, funny you should ask that. Both of them left their jobs soon after. One is now reportedly a Bahamian beach bum. Didn't have time to track the other one down, but I will if you want."

  "Unnecessary." Nate shook his head. He glanced at Mel. "This fits."

  "It fits so perfectly it's scary," she agreed. "You said the perp would have issues with his mother."

  "And that he would have been scorned by others in high school," Becker added. "Cheerleaders would have wanted nothing to do with him."

  Nate was so excited he could barely sit still. Another thought occurred to him and he virtually shouted, "Steve! Check out the high school Dickie Burton attended. What was their mascot?"

  "Hang on, boss," Steve said. A moment later he came back with, "Okay, it's an oriel."

  "An oriel?" Mel screwed up her face.

  "Oriels look nothing like cardinals," Stone stated.

  Nate shrugged. "Might not be a deal breaker. Worth a shot, though."

  "Wait!" Steve called. "It's an oriel now. They changed it a few years ago. Used to be a cardinal."

  Nate slammed a hand on the table as he stood. "That's it. We're off to see the wizard, my friends. Everybody suit up, vests and the works. Mel, get Reeder and clue him in. We're going to need SWAT team backup." He picked up his phone. "Steve, next time I see you, man, I'm giving you a big wet kiss."