Resort to Murder

by Glenys O'Connell

  ****

  Reilly’s eyes were fixed on his watch, the tiny glowing numerals seeming to represent eternity as he waited for the team to be in place. Just as he raised his hand to give the signal a gunshot split the silent darkness. His last thought before the officer at his side kicked in the splintered door and they hurtled inside was that the shot could have ended his world.

  But it hadn’t. In the glare of their flashlights they saw a big, beefy figure backed up against the far wall of the room, his arms up around his face to protect himself from the fury that attacked him. The fury that was Ellie Fitzpatrick. A gun was clutched forgotten in his big hand as he struggled to ward off her blows.

  As Reilly pulled on her arm to get her away, she turned furious eyes on him, and he was moved by the tears that streamed down her face as she recognized him. “Oh, Reilly, thank God…they were going to kill us both.” The words were barely a sigh as she sank against him. Reilly didn’t want to let her go, not after that awful moment when he’d heard the gunshot and thought he might have lost her forever. He held her tightly but gently, like a precious treasure, until the reality of the activities around them intervened.

  “I think probably Fitzpatrick could manage to stand on her own feet, sir,” Sergeant Colin Peterson said with exaggerated tact, a smile playing around his lips. “Especially since she has prisoners to arrest.”

  One of the officers was down on one knee beside the prone body of a man, speaking swiftly into his radio for an ambulance. Reilly recognized Jay Richards. He knew that somehow Richards had brought Ellie into this danger and his fists clenched as the man on the floor groaned. Then Ellie pulled away from him, and he knew he had to let her go. There was something more she had to do.

  He filled with pride as he listened to the woman he loved calmly reading rights and arresting the men who, only moments before, had been intent on her cold blooded murder. And his heart no longer flinched at its own confession that he loved her.

  Resort to Murder

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ellie had stubbornly refused to go to hospital, and Reilly had just as stubbornly refused to let her drive herself home alone to her empty cottage. Grim-faced uniformed officers escorted the motley assortment of criminals into police cruisers and, with lights flashing, headed off for police headquarters. Reilly, Ellie, and the rest of the special task force had followed and together the officers had booked in, fingerprinted, photographed and charged the thugs and their leader, a notorious gangster named Morris who’d frustrated police for years by always being one step ahead. Until now. Despite the late hour they carefully filled out paperwork until everything was neatly squared away. No one wanted any of these men to escape punishment due to a “technical” glitch such as a mistake in the arrest process.

  Now, too tired to protest further, she waited in Reilly’s car until he could get away. Reilly finally joined her, wrapping another blanket around her knees and kissing her gently on the top of the head. But there was an awkwardness between them now, as if the flare of emotion had stripped back layers and left raw feelings exposed. Feelings that had been suppressed for so long and had spilled over, right there for all the world to see, when Reilly had pulled Ellie away from her attacker and held her protectively. But now, in the close confines of his car, she regretted letting him take charge like this.

  They drove back across the Yorkshire Moors in an agitated silence that neither seemed able to break. Both were all too aware that the day’s drama had finally brought them to the edge of the precipice. There could be no turning back.

  It will be good to get it over, Ellie told herself fiercely, good to clear the air and then we can both walk away. But her heart didn’t agree, and she was glad for the blessed dark that hid her silent tears.

  But not well enough. Stopping the car in front of Ellie’s cottage, Reilly turned to her and wiped his thumb gently across her cheek, brushing the salty tears away. With a groan she moved into his arms - she needed him like an addict needs his next needle. If history had left them with irreconcilable differences, she was a grown up and she could survive without him. But she didn’t want to.

  Ignoring his protests she pulled away and climbed out of the car to walk wearily to the low wall that skirted the edge of the cliff by her terrace. The weight of the night’s adventures pressed in on her at last. But she tensed as she heard Reilly’s steps behind her, and she had to force herself to turn and face him in the waning moonlight. Could he hear the way her heart slammed in her chest over the swell of the high tide? Could he read the longing and need in her eyes, by the light reflected off the sea?

  “Why didn’t you let me help you?” he asked, gently tipping a finger under her chin.

  She blew out an exasperated sigh. “I did—I called to let you know what was happening. This isn’t that old ‘team player’ thing again, is it, Reilly? Because Richards didn’t exactly give me time to…”

  “Dammit, Ellie—you know I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about months ago, when all that crap came down on your head. Why did you just walk away, throw away everything we had along with your career?”

  She pulled away from him, shaking her head to dislodge his fingers. She fixed her gaze on the languidly flowing waves, and a small fishing boat out late and heading for harbor. He was so close she could sense him in every fiber of her being, felt his heat on her skin like a caress. It had always been like this with him, as though her body had a built-in Reilly detector that sent little warm shocks tingling through her when he was present, wrapping her in a feeling of sensual…No, she wouldn’t let him do this to her. Her fingers gripped the rough stone wall.

  “What are you talking about, Reilly? We broke up, oh, so civilized. Then you disappeared—I know now that you were on a special mission in Ireland. Then you were sent to the States. But you must have known I’d be worried when you dropped from sight so suddenly, and no one seemed to know where you were. I tried to call you, time and time again; I left messages on your answering machine. But you never had the common decency to simply return my calls. Admit it - you didn’t want to tie your career to a loser like me!” There, it was out. The pain that she’d been nurturing over the months she’d been suspended from duty, never knowing if she’d be re-instated, never knowing if she’d be facing corruption charges before it was all over. It was all out in the open now, where they could both see it in all its misery.

  She sucked in a shocked breath as Reilly swore softly, his warm breath cooling against her cheek. “I did call you, Ellie. I called you from Ireland, and left messages. Then your phone was disconnected. Your mother and sister told me in no uncertain terms that they wouldn’t reveal where you were. You walked out of my life when I needed you, when we needed each other! I know you had a hard time as a kid, when your father left—but is this how you plan to go through life? Abandoning people when they need you to go out on an emotional limb for them?”

  Her gaze sought his, shocked by the bitterness and anger in his voice. She asked the question that had troubled her ever since she’d learned about the mission to Ireland. “Why were you, a Yorkshire officer, sent to Ireland?”

  Reilly’s hands found their way to her shoulders, his face betraying the battle between his rational thought and his consuming need to touch her. “I was in Ireland because I volunteered for a special mission, Ellie –”

  “Where you so anxious to get away from me that you’d volunteer for an assignment there?” Bitterness puckered her voice. Reilly swore, and stepped away from her. When he began to speak, she had to strain to hear the words.

  “When I was a kid we spent most of our summers in County Antrim. The Ryans lived in a cottage down the lane from Uncle Joe’s farm, and Jamie Ryan was my best friend. Things were different in those days, kids had more freedom. We roamed the countryside like wild creatures. We knew every inch of that area, the abandoned cottages, the hillsides, the woods. We knew where a person could hide undetected forever, if need be.”

  Reilly f
ell silent. Ellie held her breath, her stomach tight with the feeling that something awful was about to be revealed.

  “Jamie went into the police force in Northern Ireland—the Royal Ulster Constabulary, as it was then. But being a Catholic in the RUC wasn’t a good thing, and Jamie got it in the neck from both sides. The Loyalists on the force hated what he represented; the Republicans in the IRA branded him a traitor.

  “There was an armed robbery at a bank in Antrim—the IRA’s brand of fundraising. Jamie’s colleagues in the police should have given him back up when he went in—but the bastards didn’t. The IRA boys, seeing their plans go sour, snatched Jamie and a couple of the bank staff as insurance for a getaway.

  “They took off into the hills, leaving the police and army without a clue where to look. Then the demand came: They wanted a political prisoner, a murderer released, or Jamie and the others would die. Trouble was, the authorities insisted on keeping everything under wraps. They had no one who knew that area well enough to know all the possible hiding places, someone whose face wasn’t known to the IRA. No one except me. I was contacted by a mutual friend, and volunteered. What else could I do?”

  Ellie’s world tipped on its axis, all her truths suddenly out of focus. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she choked, appalled that Reilly had gone through this alone.

  “The operation was top secret. I thought it would be over within 48 hours, and I’d decided once I was back I’d have things out with you, find out what was wrong. Because I lied when I agreed we should stop seeing each other. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  Tears streamed down Ellie’s face and she drew in a ragged breath as she saw his cheeks were also wet. That blazing loyalty was part of Reilly that she’d always loved—a part she’d discounted when she thought he’d abandoned her. Her heart swelled with pride at the courage he’d shown, and a tingle of shame sprinkled her cheeks as she thought how she’d believed the worst of him so readily. Instead of an ambitious coward who’d abandoned her, Reilly was a hero.

  “The operation went well. We found the hideout, infiltrated it, and after a bit of gunplay the gang surrendered. I took a bullet in the shoulder, a flesh wound really, and Jamie was pretty badly beaten up, but we came out alive.”

  Ellie’s thoughts flashed to Reilly walking through her kitchen, with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. And that strange puckered scar that marred the smooth flesh. He’d made the story sound so mundane. Thinking of what he might not be telling her, Ellie thought she was going to be sick.

  “I phoned you from Ireland, from the airport—I phoned the station and left messages for you even though I knew the gossip that would cause.” Reilly scrubbed away at his face, but the moon turned unshed tears in his eyes to silver.

  Ellie reached out and took his face in her hands, her thumbs gently wiping the salty tears away; his pain-filled eyes caused her heart to thump. “My God, Reilly—if I’d known! God forgive me, I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I let you go through this alone.” Ellie doubted she could ever forgive herself. “And all this time you believed I’d walked out on you?”

  His smile was grim. “Just like you believed I’d left you to face those accusations alone.”

  “I never got your messages. I thought that you—didn’t want to be caught up in my crash and burn.”

  “I loved you, Ellie. All this time I thought you had just wanted out. I tried to be angry with you, tried to convince myself you were actually guilty of taking bribes, that you’d just left with the loot after playing me for a fool. But I couldn’t believe that. Why couldn’t you come to me?”

  Ellie swallowed. “I was exhausted, terrified. I thought I was being stalked; my flat was broken into, my things rifled through. I thought maybe Abbott was the wrong guy, that the real Slasher was still stalking me. Then out of the blue I’m accused of corruption. And you were gone, with no apparent trace.” The silence stretched so long Ellie thought it would snap. “Fine pair of investigators we are, that we couldn’t find each other,” she whispered into the night.

  “Oh, I found you, all right. Do you know how often I’ve driven by your lane? I even got as far as stopping the car, getting out, intending to walk to your door and hammer on it until you gave me an explanation. But I didn’t. I was afraid to hear you tell me you didn’t give a damn. That it really was over.”

  My heart will break all over again, Ellie thought, and then she was in his arms as they soothed each other with kisses that slipped into a hot longing. They stood, wrapped in darkness, as the tide below began to turn.

  Dragging her lips from his, she murmured, “We’ve been fools, haven’t we?”

  “Both of us.” His voice was ragged. Instinctively, Ellie reached out for Reilly’s strength. This time, he was there for her. They were there for each other.

  Hand in hand, craving closeness, they walked away from the edge of the cliff toward Ellie’s cottage, the moon lighting their path. The tingle of desire in Ellie’s belly unfurled lazily with anticipation as Reilly took the key from her hand and inserted it in the lock. Once inside, they slowly kissed and undressed each other, delighting in rediscovering the well-remembered curves and planes of each other’s bodies. With the moon silvering their skins through the flimsy curtains, Ellie took Reilly’s hand and led him to her bedroom, suddenly shy as they stood naked in the tiny room. But then she saw the hot hunger in his eyes as they devoured every line of her. Anxiety fled, to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of the rightness of the moment, and she went into his arms and let his love wash over her.

  Reilly sank onto the narrow bed with Ellie wrapped in his arms, protected and erotically close as their naked skin touched and excited.

  There was no need for words as they kissed and held, gasping as passion sprang into full bloom between them. His eyes glittering gold in the moonlight, he kissed her bruised mouth gently, afraid of hurting her. Until she twined her fingers in his thick dark hair and kissed him fiercely, her bruised lips ached. She reveled in the sweetness of the pain that told her she was still alive.

  She pressed herself to him, and Reilly groaned, inflamed by the tiny mewling demands she made under his mouth. His hands and mouth feasted on her soft curves, and he groaned again as her teasing fingers insinuated their way down across his belly to curl around his hardness.

  “Ellie—are you sure about this?” He managed to gasp, pulling his mouth away from hers. The look in her eyes set him burning again, and her busy hands stoked the fire.

  She needed to have this man just one more time, whatever the future might hold. Fiercely, she took the lead, pulling him to her and kissing him savagely, holding and touching and reveling in every sensation. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” she whispered when he held back. “I need to feel you—to heal me after all that’s happened.” He capitulated gracefully, matching her every eager passionate caress with more of his own, tasting and touching and stroking until he could hold back no longer. Covering her softly rounded body with his hard-muscled form, he thrust himself deep into her welcoming wetness and came to rest for a moment, quietly delighting in all the sensations that rippled through him.

  With Reilly throbbing deep inside her, his mouth on her breast and his hands tangled in her hair, Ellie’s every sense clamored for release as if she’d been starving for years and was suddenly placed before a feast. Every cell in her, every centimeter of skin, remembered and cried out for his touch. She was a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece, a vital piece now found that made her whole.

  Soon he might be gone, but these moments were Ellie’s to hold and savor for the rest of her life. And that was her last coherent thought as they soared over the mountains and together toppled, breathless, into love.

  Moments or hours later, she wasn’t sure, she opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her, his face full of love and shadowed with concern. “I didn’t hurt you, love, did I?” he asked. Ellie shook her head, her blonde hair fanning out across the pillow of
Reilly’s arm. She smiled a languid, sated smile, and reveled in his answering grin. “We always were pretty good together, weren’t we?” she murmured.

  ****

  They made love again, slowly and languorously, as dawn painted the room with sunshine. Later, Ellie woke to panic as her hands roamed Reilly’s side of the bed and found him gone, only to be reassured as he walked, naked and beautiful, back into the room. His hair was still damp from showering, and he carried two mugs of hot strong tea.

  “I just talked to Harris and I have to be at the station early,” he said apologetically. “You, on the other hand, my dear—Harris has granted the heroine of the day a couple of hours off. Don’t let it go to your head, though—your paperwork is waiting.”

  Ellie sat up in the bed, and reached for the shirt that Reilly had discarded. “That Harris is just full of the milk of human kindness,” she said ruefully. Bruises and pains from the previous night’s confrontation with the criminal gang started to make themselves known. But over it all was the soft glow and delicious ache of a body that had been well and truly loved, and she stretched contentedly.

  “Tell me,” Ellie demanded as she made herself comfortable against the velvet padded headboard. “I want to know everything.”

  He sighed. They’d missed so much in the past months, all due to misunderstanding. It was a farce, a black comedy. But where did they go from here? He glanced at Ellie, her face glowing from the pleasures of the night, beautiful despite the bruises and cuts. His fists curled in anger as he thought of her at the mercy of that scum.

  It was a simple story. A story about a man who had wanted too much. Jay Richards had gambled and lost, had borrowed from dubious sources to pay back his losses, and then been unable to keep up with the repayments.

  Because he was a copper, he’d been offered the opportunity of helping the loan sharks out with a little specialist work to pay off his loan. Mostly this involved turning a blind eye to things he had sworn not to ignore when he joined the force. Small things at first, but it wasn’t long before he had been drawn full tilt into trouble. With each payment he received for his silence and cooperation, Richards got in deeper.