by Cara Summers
Moonlight slanted through the narrow windows. She loved how the mix of light and shadow heightened the desire and the pleasure she saw in his eyes. And when he skimmed his gaze over her, her heart began to thud.
In silence still, he stepped out of his slacks and she out of hers. Then she moved into his arms and pressed herself against him. “Jonah.” His name was a quiet sigh as she cupped his face with her hands and brought his mouth to hers.
But he didn’t kiss her, not in the way he’d done in her dreams. Not in the way he’d ever done before. He kept the pressure soft, taking her hands from his face and linking his fingers with hers as they sank to their knees.
His mouth was so warm, his lips so gentle, coaxing and teasing, only taking more when she sighed his name again. No one had ever kissed her like this—as if he had all the time in the world and intended to take it. Only Jonah, she thought as ribbons of pleasure unwound through her system. And when he released her hands and began to touch her, there was such tenderness in his fingers that it might have been starlight only moving over her skin.
Even as she began to float, emotions welled up in her. Her eyes stung, her throat burned, and the liquid yearning he was building in her sprang as much from her heart as from her body.
Home, she thought, and the silent sound of the word in her head trembled through her. She didn’t want him to be a dream anymore. The dream would never be enough. Ever.
Jonah used his hands gently to touch, explore, exploit. He knew her now. During all those sexy silent nights when he’d relived every moment in his imagination, he’d had the time to review and file away what pleased her most. What made her catch her breath, what made her sigh. And each time she did, he offered more. Took more.
His heart ached to tell her what he was feeling. But he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the words. Or whether he was ready to say them aloud.
But at least he could show her.
Lowering her to the floor, he used his mouth on her. Each time she trembled, his heart pounded harder and his blood burned hotter. Still, he forced himself to keep the pace slow. Torturing himself as well as her, he took the time to savor the flavors of her skin, the saltiness of her neck, the honeyed sweetness of her breast. He lingered there for as long as he could. But his hunger was building for more. Her taste grew darker at her waist, darker and richer still as he moved lower. And when he nudged her thighs apart and found her core, he feasted.
She erupted. When her body quaked and reared, he tightened his hold on her hips, and when she settled, he began to build the pleasure again—slowly, steadily. When she was close to a climax again, when he could feel every muscle in her body tightening, reaching, he moved up and over her.
“Cilla?” he whispered.
When she opened her eyes, he looked into them and saw everything he was looking for. And he filled her.
She groped for his hands, linked her fingers with his. “Everything.”
The sound of the breathless word filled the air, and still Jonah fought for control. Her eyes stayed open and on his as each thrust brought them both closer.
And when he was flying off the edge, reeling, his mouth moved to hers and whispered her name as they fell together.
CILLA FOUND HERSELF SINGING in the shower. Twice. The first time was before Jonah had joined her. After the night they’d spent together, she hadn’t thought it possible to want him again so desperately. But she had.
And now she was singing again.
So what?
She might be falling in love with a man who had three strikes against him. She pressed a panicked hand against her heart. She was not going to think about that now. She didn’t have time.
Gabe had called from the airport. He’d flown in with Father Mike Flynn and they were on their way to Pleasures. Finelli had called next. He was bringing over the cold-case file on Elizabeth Baxter. Cilla didn’t have time to sing anymore.
When Jonah opened the bathroom door, she pulled the shower curtain in front of her and pointed a finger. “Stay right where you are.” The fact that he was fully dressed didn’t fool her. He’d been fully dressed in different jeans and T-shirt when he’d joined her the first time. “Gabe and Father Mike are going to be here any second.”
He grinned at her. “They’re here now. And I could convince you to make the time.” He brought out the mug of coffee he was holding behind his back. “Instead, I brought you this. Finelli’s here, too.”
He strode toward the shower and grabbed a quick kiss before he handed her the mug. “Hurry. We need your insights on this.”
She had two problems, Cilla thought as she watched him walk toward the door. And she didn’t have any insights at all on how to solve the one she was looking at.
THE MEN WERE ALL GATHERED around the flat-screen TV when Cilla joined them. Finelli had brought donuts as well as the file on Elizabeth Baxter. She saw four photos on display. One was the close-up of Elizabeth that Ben had enlarged the night before. Another was one of Elizabeth with her long hair, handing Jonah the green box tied with red ribbon. A third was the photo of Elizabeth that had been taken by the coroner. The fourth was a young man with close-cropped blond hair and the same high forehead and blue eyes that Elizabeth had. It was the photo of Robert Baxter that Gabe had taken from his military file.
“How sure are we that it’s the same girl?” Finelli asked, gesturing with his donut at the pictures of Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth Baxter was an army brat,” Gabe said. “She and her twin brother, Robert, lost their parents when they were five and the uncle, Paul Baxter, became their guardian. Paul was a career man in the army so they moved around a lot. Spent their high school years in a private boarding school near Colorado Springs. I’ve got some men on it. They’re visiting the school this morning. We may be able to track down dental records through them and identify your Jane Doe.”
Finelli waved at the TV screen. “Until we can be sure, I say we go with the theory that our Jane Doe is Elizabeth Baxter. What else do we know?”
“I believe the man who fell off Cilla’s fire escape is Sergeant Paul Baxter.” Jonah clicked a key on the computer and another image joined those on the screen. “I ran the photo we had from the security discs through military databases during the night and the match was waiting this morning.”
“I traced Paul Baxter through more conventional methods,” Gabe said. “But I agree with Jonah’s ID.”
“He sure looks like the guy we’ve been calling Tank,” Finelli said. “We can check his fingerprints to confirm that. His doctors have him in an induced coma because of the head injury he suffered during the fall. They say there is some scarring in the brain because of previous injuries, and it may be days before I can question him.”
“That fits with what I learned,” Gabe said. “Paul Baxter was trained in explosives, and in Iraq, he worked on a special ops team. He received a medical discharge a year ago when he suffered head injuries in a land-mine explosion.”
“That also fits with what he told me yesterday,” Cilla said. “He said he was the tactical man and that his partner was the strategic planner. What do we know about the twin brother, Robert?”
“He was honorably discharged from the army a year ago,” Gabe said. “That’s all I found. Jonah is using his special talents to dig out more details on his military career as we speak.”
“You can get into those kinds of records?” Finelli asked.
Jonah smiled.
“You don’t want to know the details,” Gabe said. “And I have even more interesting news. I’ve run a quick check, but so far, I can’t find any trace of Robert Baxter once he shipped back from Iraq and got his walking papers from the army. No record of taxes filed, no record of employment using that social security number. No death certificate.”
“He may have changed his ID,” Cilla said. “The uncle changed his, so he may have helped Robert.”
“That would be my guess,” Gabe agreed. “The bad news is we don’t have any idea wh
at name he’s operating under now.”
“And he’s been smart enough to keep in the background and let his uncle do the dirty work. The twin certainly has to be a person of interest, and we have to find him.”
“I agree,” Finelli said.
Cilla turned to Father Mike. “How long was Elizabeth at the center?”
“Six months,” the priest said. “Gabe asked me to check the records. I remember meeting with her and she said that she had just moved to Denver. In the fall, she was going to enroll at the community college. She said that she wasn’t Catholic but she enjoyed working with children.”
“Robert Baxter was deployed to Iraq at about the same time Elizabeth moved to Denver,” Gabe said. “I’ve got men who are going to check out the community college today and perhaps even track down where she was living in Denver.”
“Do we know anything else?” Finelli asked.
Cilla moved closer to the screen and tapped on the green box with the red ribbon. “We can theorize. Twins are close. I’m guessing Elizabeth must have kept Robert fully informed of everything that was going on in her life, including the Christmas present she gave Jonah that year.”
“Letters,” Father Mike said. “I didn’t know her all that well, but she was always carrying a notebook and she would write frequently in it.”
“If the first time they were separated was when they left that boarding school, she probably let him know that she was falling in love with Jonah,” Cilla said. “Who knows how she told that story in her letters? And what if she told her twin Jonah rejected her, and she’d decided that the best way to eventually be with her true love was to commit suicide? What would that do to you if you received those letters on the other side of the globe and you had no way to get back to her?”
Finelli frowned at the TV screen. “I can buy into your theory so far. But if he’s been out a year, why wait to get his revenge?”
“Planning,” Jonah said. “And he obviously wants more than to just push me into my next life. He wants some payback first. He’s already targeted Cilla—not merely because she’s interfered with some of his plans, but also because he’s sensed she’s important to me. I think he’s going to try to target Pleasures also.”
“Because it was Pleasures that took you away from Denver,” Cilla said. “That has to be why she followed you here to San Francisco and committed suicide here.”
“If you’re right,” Finelli said, “I suggest you shut down the place until Christmas is over, or until we catch this whack job. Or at least figure out if your theory is correct.”
“No,” Cilla said.
Everyone turned to her then, but it was Jonah’s eyes she met and held. “Shutting down Pleasures could be exactly what he wants. It’s December 23, and tonight you’re throwing a huge party at Pleasures. I think he’d love to see you cancel it. Number one, you’d annoy the people who’ve traveled here especially to attend. Number two, you’d lose all those checks that the guests were going to write for the boys and girls clubs here in San Francisco. The club takes a hit. Your favorite charity takes a hit. It’s another way of making you suffer before he takes a final run at you on the twenty-fourth.”
“I think you’re right,” Jonah said. “Not only that, I’ll bet you when I don’t cancel, he finds a way to join the party. He hasn’t made a mistake yet. Maybe we can lure him into making one tonight.”
“It’s going to be a hell of a job to handle the security,” Gabe said.
Jonah grinned at him. “You don’t think G.W. Securities is up to the job?”
Gabe didn’t return the grin, but Cilla could tell he was thinking. “You’ve already got the security cameras in place. We can use this apartment as our headquarters, and we’ll wire you and Cilla.” The smile formed slowly. “And I’ve got a couple of new gadgets we can use.”
Jonah turned to Finelli. “We can also use the San Francisco Police Department.”
Finelli sighed in defeat. “This could turn into a real Christmas nightmare.”
16
THE PARTY AT PLEASURES was a Christmas fantasy come true. From her position at the top of the staircase, Cilla was able to see the expressions on the faces of the guests entering the club. None of them was aware they were using the occasion to trap a would-be killer.
She could also see Jonah standing at the foot of the stairs, greeting everyone as they came in. He looked totally relaxed, smiling and shaking hands as though the Christmas event was the only thing on his mind. Gabe stood next to him so he was safe for now. But her stomach was in knots because she had a feeling that the person behind the notes was indeed going to make an appearance at the party.
And soon. Cilla let her gaze sweep the place again. On the second floor, the tables had been shoved against the wall. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. Women in jewel-colored gowns danced with their partners on a gleaming parquet floor while a band played slow tunes in the background.
On the lower floor, drinks were being offered to the arriving guests in the bar, and in the dining room, long tables held an array of food. Silver-and-white trees twinkled in the corners.
Gibbons and Santos were in Jonah’s apartment monitoring the surveillance cameras. The wire she was wearing had a remote switch tucked beneath the strap of her dress so that she could turn it off or on. And tucked into a small flower on the same strap was a little video camera that would send close-up pictures of anyone who talked with her.
For the past hour, there’d been no reason to activate either the camera or her mic. Guests had been arriving in a steady stream. She even recognized some of them, including the nightly news anchorwoman who had been dominating Jonah’s time for the past ten minutes.
Next year, Cilla was going to make sure Jonah threw a Christmas party that she could enjoy. Sans anchorwoman.
Next year.
As the two words ran through her mind again, Cilla felt her stomach plummet. Somehow in the past few days, a one-night stand she’d been determined to walk away from had morphed into next year. Maybe longer? Her stomach pitched again.
She pressed her hand against it and focused on the next group of people coming in the front door.
“Do you need something to eat?”
“I’m fine.” Cilla turned to face the pretty brunette who stood beside her. Nicola Guthrie, a special agent with the FBI office in Denver, was also Gabe’s fiancée, and Gabe had arranged for her to fly in for the party and assigned her to watch Cilla for the evening. “Just nerves.”
Nicola glanced down the staircase to where Jonah stood in the receiving line with Gabe. “Gabe won’t let anything happen to Jonah. Nash would be here, too, if his grandmother hadn’t arranged that cruise with their new family members.”
“Jonah is safe for tonight,” Cilla agreed. But it wasn’t Christmas Eve yet, and if they weren’t able to stop whoever was behind the threat tonight… All day long as they’d waited for Gabe’s men to report in on the Baxter twins, she’d been plagued by a growing certainty that time was running out.
And they still had very little to go on. The only thing they now knew for certain was that the body that had washed up six years ago beneath the piers was indeed Elizabeth Baxter.
Gabe’s men had been able to contact her advisor and one of her professors at the community college where she’d attended classes. The professor had confirmed her interest in Eastern religions and reincarnation.
All they had on her twin, Robert, was that his teachers at the private boarding school considered him brilliant but subject to drastic mood swings. And they all remarked on how close the twins were, inseparable almost. One of Robert’s teachers had encouraged the young man to apply to West Point, but he was too impatient to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and serve his country in combat. The guidance counselor described him as borderline genius but with anger issues that at times resulted in drastic changes in personality. The counselor had also remarked on the closeness of the twins.
What Jonah had been able to unearth f
rom Robert’s military files didn’t shed much further light. Several times he’d been reprimanded for insubordination, but his commanding officer had also reported frequently on his bravery and his aptitude for strategic planning. Although his advice had been unsolicited at first, the unit had learned to rely on his insights before going on a mission. It would have helped to be able to speak to his commanding officer, but the man had died in Iraq.
“There’s so much we don’t know,” Cilla said. “If our current theory is correct and Elizabeth’s twin is behind this, he could wait us out. Maybe he isn’t even here. Or he could be here just enjoying the party, and relishing what he has planned for tomorrow. Or if we’ve rattled him too much, he could make a move on Jonah that we don’t stop.”
Nicola took her hand and squeezed it. “You’ll stop it. Gabe and Jonah and I will help you stop it. We’ve got every available agent from G.W. Securities here. Your friend Finelli brought quite a few cops, and they have good eyes.”
Nicola was right, Cilla told herself. The security was as tight as they could make it. Several of Gabe’s agents were circulating on the first floor, and Finelli was all suited up in a white waiter’s jacket in the bar.
“Who is that man talking to Jonah right now?” Nicola asked.
Cilla glanced down the stairs. “That’s Carl Rockwell. He was one of the original investors in Pleasures and he’s one of Jonah’s partners in a new club they plan to open in San Diego. Why?”
“For a second, when he smiled at Jonah, he reminded me of someone. But I can’t place him.”
“I asked Gabe to check him out because his association with Jonah began when he invested in Pleasures. But that was after Christmas.” She turned to Nicola. “And you can see I’m grasping at straws. I’m not sure I’m even thinking clearly anymore.”
“Jonah is more than a case to you.”
Cilla hesitated, then said, “He shouldn’t be. I didn’t want him to be.”