by Izzy Gomez
Desire shot through her, making her light-headed.
“You want a bite?” He scooped up a spoonful and held it out. It was mostly caramel and hot fudge, with very little custard. She didn’t want any but found herself leaning toward him anyway.
Her gaze didn’t leave his as she took the spoon into her mouth. Rolling her tongue around the cold plastic to collect the sticky sweets became distinctly sexual as fire sparked in his gaze.
She drew back slowly, pulse fluttering, and licked her lips. “Very good.”
“You’ve got a little here.” He smudged his thumb along the corner of her mouth.
Unable to resist, she licked the spot he’d touched. “Here?”
“Better let me get it.”
Instead of using his finger, he leaned forward. His chair scraped the floor as he scooted closer.
It was a lame, cheesy excuse to kiss her, but she didn’t care. Her breath came too fast as his lips touched hers. It took all her strength not to melt into him.
He nibbled the corner of her mouth, licked the crease between her lips. Her world narrowed until there was nothing but her and Greg and his teasing kiss. Until the fluorescent lights dimmed and other people faded away. Until she was ready to grab him and kiss him for real in this very public place.
Before she could, he eased back. His smile was lazy and satisfied. “Better.”
Damn him. He was entirely too good at turning her on, then leaving her wanting. She hated playing games, but he was so good at it and made her enjoy it far too much.
Damn him.
They finished their custard in silence, but she couldn’t keep herself from watching his every movement. Pathetic. Even his eating turned her on.
Exasperated with herself, she shoved the last bite of cone in her mouth and stood. “You done? I should get going. It’s been a long day.”
Without waiting for him, she started for the door. She was all too aware of his eyes on her as he followed. Tingles skittered up her spine.
The weight of his hand on the small of her back both annoyed and calmed her. She didn’t want to like him this much. But she no longer had a choice.
Once they settled in the car and headed toward her dad’s, she asked, “Was there really chocolate on my mouth?”
He flashed a smile. “Yes.”
Two blocks later he reached for her hand and pulled it onto his thigh. “But I probably would have told you there was, even if there wasn’t.”
He squeezed her hand and her pulse tapped in her throat. Yep, she definitely liked him too much.
It was too much to think about right now, so she leaned her head back, closed her eyes and focused on the car's movement. A series of curves as they wound through the suburbs. A turn, another, then two more in rapid succession.
Expecting to find herself at Dad's, she opened her eyes. Instead she faced the vast darkness of Founder’s Park.
Greg spoke before she had a chance to voice her question.
“I know it’s been a long day, but I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He squeezed her hand before letting go and opening his door.
She squinted against the too-bright dome light. Parking at Founder’s with a guy at night. It was like a high school rerun.
He opened her door. “I won’t keep you out too long, but it’s a gorgeous night. I want to spend a little more time with you.” He gave her a quick kiss and pulled back with a grin. “So deal with it.”
Despite being bone tired, she couldn’t help returning the smile. Damn him once again.
Instead of heading for the path, he lead her to the playground. He settled onto one of the swings and held another out to her.
“I think we both need to have a little fun.”
In the dark, she could just make out his smile.
Ridiculously touched, she sat on the offered swing and pumped her legs, propelling herself back and forth. Over dinner, she’d told him the swings were her favorite part of the playground as a kid.
She’d loved pushing herself higher, loved the sense of weightlessness and freedom as she flew through the air, loved the rush of wind on her face and how she could forget.
It had been years since she’d been on a swing. Karen re-landscaped when Amanda was seven and took out the swingset. It wasn’t the same when she had to go to the playground and share her escape with other kids.
Now there was no one insisting her turn was over. No one telling her she was going too fast or too high.
Tonight, she could fly.
The cool air rushed over her skin, whipping back her hair and making her eyes water. Beyond the sound of the wind, Greg’s chuckle floated over her.
She didn’t mind sharing this moment with him. His presence provided more comfort than she would have expected. Knowing he’d paid attention when she told him how much she loved the swings, knowing he’d gone out of his way to re-introduce her to this pleasure, excited her almost as much as his kisses.
Which was exhilarating. And terrifying.
But she wasn’t going to think about it. She wasn’t going to think. Period.
Eventually her skin couldn’t take the wind anymore. She stilled her legs, slowing until her feet dragged on the ground and brought her to a stop.
Her smile permanently blown onto her face, she turned to Greg. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he twisted toward her, expression intense. Words froze in her throat.
Oh wow.
Eyes dark and intense, he palmed the back of her head. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Her breath caught as his mouth took hers. Hot. Wild. Hungry.
His hands tangled in her messy hair and his ankles hooked hers, pulling her closer. Adrenaline still pounding through her, she grabbed his sweater and pulled him closer still. She matched his intensity and fought him for control of the kiss.
The breeze contrasted with the heat whipping through her and she shivered. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her off her swing, settling her on his leg.
With the motion of the swing rocking them together, the kiss went from intense to explosive. She ground against his powerful thigh and used her own to tease his erection. He groaned and anchored her hip. Even through their clothes, she felt him pulse with need.
“Amanda.” He trailed his mouth across her face, down her jaw, along her neck. Circled back to her mouth. Again he dove in like a desperate man and she responded in kind.
Need and hunger made her feel like she was still soaring weightless through the air.
Just when she was ready to burrow even further into his chest, he cupped her cheeks and pried his mouth away. Eyes glazed, breathing heavy, he quirked his swollen lips into a half smile. “We better stop before we get arrested.”
She managed not to do something desperate, like suggest they relocate to his backseat. She hadn’t made out in a car since high school.
Instead she started to slide off his lap. He stopped her with hands on her hips. His smile turned wide and cocky and sexy. “But God, it would be worth it.”
She couldn’t stop a yelp of laughter.
Grinning now, he nibbled at her mouth. Before it could explode into another inferno of a kiss, he pushed to his feet, pulling her along. With an arm around her shoulder, he held her close as they walked to his car. Good thing, because she was still shaky. She might have collapsed if left on her own.
The electronic ping of his cell phone broke through the remnants of the romantic, sexy atmosphere they’d created.
Back to reality.
He kept her close as he dug out his phone with his free hand and scanned his text message.
If they hadn’t been touching, she might have missed his reaction. His expression didn’t flicker. But his chest tightened and his fingers tensed on her shoulder.
Without a word, he turned off the phone and shoved it back in his pocket.
She waited for him to explain as he started the engine and they pulled out of the lot. She almost let it go, but after
the kiss they’d shared, she couldn’t.
“Bad news?” She kept her voice casual.
“It’s nothing.”
So much nothing his hands clenched the steering wheel and he wouldn't look at her. His tight jaw and grim stare didn’t look like a man who’d been about to have sex on a park swing two minutes ago.
Maybe she should let it go, or make a joke to lighten his mood. But if they were going to have something together, she couldn’t.
“It’s not nothing.” she said gently. “If you don't want to tell me, say so. But that wasn’t a text from your mom asking you to dinner tomorrow.”
When they reached a red light, he turned to her, his expression closed. That in itself was telling; he was usually easy to read.
The light turned green and he returned his attention to the road. He dug his phone out of his pocket and tossed it into her lap.
She opened the newest text message. The number was familiar but she didn't try to place it as she read the message.
put the girl back on the case
Chapter 17
The words blurred as Amanda started trembling. Any residual heat from their kisses was replaced by ice. She forced her brain to stay focused as she rechecked the phone number of the sender.
Karen.
Greg reached for her. Amanda thought he was going to take the phone, but instead he covered her shaking hand and squeezed.
“Pretty bold of him, sending this after he’s been charged.” Impressive how normal she sounded. Her voice gave no hint of the insanity whipping through her.
“We haven't found Karen’s phone.”
Amanda nodded numbly. She couldn't process this development. “Why would he want me on the case? He can’t think I’d hide evidence or jeopardize the case so he’s not convicted. Given our history, I’d think he’d want me far away.” Although he could think she’d look the other way, like she'd done when he was in college. But that was a long time ago. And nothing like this. And best left in the file of things she didn't think about.
“Maybe he thinks you’d do it for your dad. We both know you wouldn’t, but who knows what he’s thinking. He killed his own mother.” A catch in his voice betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor.
Greg pulled his car up to the curb behind hers. There were no more cars on the street. Which meant Dad was alone. She should go in and see him before she headed home.
But she was so damn tired.
Battling back fear and exhaustion, she leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t have the energy. Reading her new issue of Gourmet didn’t appeal. Even going home with Greg had lost its allure. She wanted nothing but to curl up in bed with Plato and Aristotle and slip into oblivion.
Greg’s hand squeezed hers. “You don’t have to go see him.”
How did he know what she was thinking? She squeezed his hand back but said nothing.
“You need sleep more than he needs you.”
She nodded, eyes still shut. Did she even have the energy to drive home? Maybe Greg should give her a ride.
But that would lead to a goodnight kiss, which would lead to more kissing, which would lead to her inviting him in. She definitely needed sleep more than she needed sex.
Besides, he’d already slammed on the brakes between them twice. She couldn't handle a third rejection.
Summoning her last reserves, she opened her eyes. “Thanks for taking me out tonight. I needed the distraction.” She mustered up her most genuine smile.
He tugged her toward him. She barely blinked as his lips brushed hers in the sweetest, gentlest of kisses. “Glad to help.”
She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him and beg him to hold her. Instead she reached for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before she could slide out of the car, he grabbed her wrist. “Amanda.”
Cast in shadows, his expression turned serious. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Hope you’re not the one who posted your brother’s bail.” Al dropped his receiver in the cradle and leaned back in his chair.
Amanda looked up from her computer. “My dad did. Why?”
Al called over his shoulder, “Cole, we got ourselves a missing Hank Schreiber.”
Super. Dad would have yet another heart attack. This time she was not delivering the news. One of these days, he was going to shoot the messenger.
“What makes you say that?” Greg asked. He propped his hip on the corner of her desk. Her skin tingled, remembering how he’d kissed her last night. She struggled to keep her reaction from showing.
She slanted him a look but his face was drawn into a frown, attention focused on Al.
“He didn’t show up for a meeting with his lawyers, and that dipshit Harper called to ask if we knew where he was. I sent a couple uniforms to his place and there’s no answer. Ditto his home, work and cell phones.” Al turned to Amanda. “Your dad hasn’t heard from him since he left last night around 7:00.”
So Dad already knew. It was only 9:00 a.m. and the day was already a big damn bowl of jelly beans.
She knew Al well enough to anticipate his next question. “My dad wouldn’t lie or cover for him. He knows it’ll make it worse for Hank in the end.”
“What about Todd or Emily?” Greg asked.
She laughed bitterly. “Hank would chew off his own leg before asking Todd for help. And Emily and Tim are way too straight-laced to help Hank hide out or skip town.”
“We’re getting the location he texted from last night,” Greg said. “But that still leaves twelve hours unaccounted for.”
“We'll get his cell phone records. Try to track his movement that way,” Al said.
“Question.” Amanda propped her elbows on her desk and leaned toward Al, then looked up at Greg. “Why are we putting so much energy into finding someone who hasn’t jumped bail yet? Not answering his phone isn't breaking the law.”
Al and Greg exchanged a look. Amanda’s skin prickled. Now what weren't they telling her?
“Brown wants tabs on him twenty-four seven.” Al’s face tightened the way it always did at the mention of their boss.
“Your stepmom had connections,” Greg added. “So does your dad. And the media is blowing this up into a huge story. CNN and Fox News have picked it up. The Captain’s getting pressure from the Chief and the Mayor.”
“I believe her exact words were ‘You find his ass and drag it back where it belongs’.” Al’s lip curled. “Fuckin’ politics.”
A headache started building behind her eyes. “You get anything on the text message?”
Greg shook his head as his phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “We’re having dinner tonight. At my place.” Without waiting for a reaction, he went to his desk.
Heat flooded her and her flaming face gave away what he’d said. When she dared to look up at Al, he was watching her, one eyebrow cocked.
She shook her head. “Don’t, OK?”
He raised his hands. “Didn’t say a word.”
No, but he was thinking plenty. Part of her was curious to know what he’d say, but a much larger part didn’t have time.
Greg rolled his chair over to Al’s desk, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “We got a blood type from the attic. AB negative.”
AB negative. The rarest blood type.
Al looked at her. “Don’t suppose you know your brother’s blood type.”
“AB negative. I’m the only one who isn’t.”
“Add that to the growing pile of evidence,” Greg said.
The headache expanded to press outward on her skull. “I know that pile is roughly the size of Mt. Everest, but I still can’t believe it.”
Greg squeezed her arm, his fingers lingering along the bare skin of her forearm. “Unfortunately, we know better than anyone what people are capable of.”
Entirely too true.
“Hey, Schreiber!”
Adam Southall stood across
the room with a thin girl almost as tall as him. The girl had limp dark hair and a timid stance, arms wrapped around her waist.
Adam started toward Amanda, gesturing for the girl to follow. Despite her height, she couldn’t have been older than eighteen. She kept her head down as they approached.
“This is Joanna Clarkson,” Adam said, subtly emphasizing the last name.
Clarkson. As in Mayor Clarkson? Who had an eighteen-year-old daughter.
Amanda looked more carefully at the girl. She had the same lanky build as her father and the same wide brown eyes, although hers were rimmed with too much mascara and blue eyeliner.
What the hell was the mayor’s daughter doing here? And why was Adam bringing her to Amanda?
“Says she needs to talk to you about Karen Schreiber,” Adam said.
Amanda tried to meet Joanna gaze, but it remained fixed on her maroon platform shoes. “You’ll need to talk to Detectives Cole and Voegler. They’re handling that case.”
Why was the mayor’s daughter here about Karen? Karen and Charlie sometimes rubbed elbows with the mayor, but they weren't friends. Her dad wouldn’t know Joanna from any other teenager.
Joanna finally looked up. Under all that make-up, her eyes were red-rimmed and dull. “I’m not talking to anyone but you.”
Unease chased up Amanda’s neck. What the hell? She shot Greg a glance but he just shook his head. She got an equally helpful shrug from Al.
“OK.” Grabbing a notepad and pen, Amanda pushed to her feet. “Why don’t we go to one of the interview rooms?” She lead Joanna to the private room, shut the door and gestured to a chairs.
Joanna perched on the edge of the seat, crossed her long legs and started bouncing her foot.
Taking note of the nervous body language, Amanda sat opposite Joanna and rested her hands on the table between them. “How can I help you, Ms. Clarkson?”
While Joanna wasn’t technically a minor, Amanda didn’t like talking to someone so young without a lawyer. Especially the mayor’s daughter. She didn't need this conversation coming back to bite her in the ass.
Joanna chewed her fingernail and mumbled something unintelligible.