by Karen Rose
If it allowed him more time with her? Hell, yeah. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly.
‘I got a text from a friend who used to have a grooming business.’
‘The one who has poodle mug shots for me to ID?’
She blinked, looking startled and a little embarrassed. He wanted to preen even more because he’d thrown the logical, just-the-facts Scarlett Bishop off balance. ‘Oh right,’ she said. ‘I did tell you about her.’ She let out a slow breath regaining her composure. ‘Anyway, she just texted me to say that she found some old videos she took of standard poodles at a local dog show. She says the picture quality isn’t too bad. Since you’re the only one who’s seen the dog in person, will you go with me to take a look?’
‘Of course,’ he said, sliding one arm into the shoulder harness, fighting to focus when she reached around him to help with the other side. ‘What about meeting Deacon in the park?’
‘He hasn’t found anything yet and agreed this was a better lead. He’s starting to see more people walking their dogs now and he wants to interview them.’
‘It’s almost lunchtime. The park gets busy then.’
‘He’s going to show Tala’s photo around, see if any of those people remember her, but that’s something he can do alone. Talking to the groomer is a better use of my time too. So? Can you spare an hour or so?’
He gestured to the door. ‘After you, Detective.’
She shook her head, pointing to the shoulder holster with an arched brow. ‘Are you planning to wear that out in public without a jacket? Because if you don’t cover it up, you can’t come with me. I don’t want to look like I’m on a case with Dirty Harry.’
‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘What’s the outside temp?’
‘Already in the low nineties, eighty-five percent humidity. Air quality is like pea soup. You wear a jacket over the Kevlar and the shirt and you won’t have a chance to shoot any bad guys. You’ll be in the ER with heat stroke. Why don’t you use the pocket holster you used this morning?’
He narrowed his eyes, studying her. ‘Pocket holster?’
‘I assumed you wouldn’t walk into an alley frequented by drug dealers with a gun holstered at your hip. Not unless you wanted to provoke them. Is that Glock the one you were carrying this morning?’
Hell, he’d known she was observant. He was going to have to be a whole lot more alert. ‘If you knew about the other gun, why didn’t you confiscate it, like you did my knife? Which I still want back, by the way.’
‘I didn’t know. I guessed. Didn’t seem prudent to run after a shooter with your primary weapon at your ankle. You didn’t have any gunshot residue on your hands, so I didn’t ask. And you’ll get your knife back when CSU is finished with it. They’ve got more important things to worry about right now.’
Without a word, he changed the holsters and shoved the extra ammo into his shirt pocket. ‘My car or yours?’
‘Mine,’ she said flatly. ‘This is an official call, Marcus. Not a date.’
He wanted to grin, but knew better. Opening his office door with a flourish, he waved her through. ‘Then after you, Detective.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 12.00 P.M.
Scarlett glanced over at the passenger seat, where Marcus slouched, a baseball cap pulled down over his face, snoring softly. He’d fallen asleep about five minutes into the ride.
He’d looked utterly exhausted even as he’d armed himself the first time, planning to go looking for the couple who’d owned Tala. She had no doubt that he would have done just as he’d said, knocking on doors until he found that one narcissist who wanted to be in the news.
And she might still ask him to do that if this lead petered out.
‘Marcus.’ She nudged his arm gently. ‘Marcus, wake up. We’re almost there.’
He woke with a jerk, going stiff before he got his bearings and relaxed. He pushed the cap back and turned to look out the window. ‘How long was I out?’
‘Only about twenty-five minutes. I wanted to prepare you before we descended on Delores.’
He shifted in his seat so that he was staring at her profile. ‘Prepare me how?’
‘I met Delores nine months ago. She was in the same hospital as you were.’ She glanced over to briefly meet his eyes. ‘Put there by the same person.’
‘Sonofabitch,’ he murmured. ‘She’s the woman who lived.’
‘Yep.’ Scarlett’s lips twitched. ‘And she really hates to be referred to like that. She says it makes her feel like Harriet Potter.’
Marcus chuckled. ‘Okay, I won’t say that to her face.’ He sighed, sobering. ‘I read about her injuries after I got out of ICU. I wanted to do something to help her, but I wasn’t sure what. Jeremy found out that she ran a dog shelter and suggested a donation. He also sent some of his students from the university to take care of the animals until they were placed. Since some of the students were pre-vet, it was a good match. The animals got care and the students got volunteer credits.’
‘That was kind of him. Delores’s first concern when she came out of her coma was the dogs in her shelter.’
‘Jeremy is a very kind man. He always has been. For Stone and me, he was the dad he didn’t have to be. He took on someone else’s kids and made them his own, even though he was barely grown himself.’
She glanced over again. ‘I called him this morning, looking for you when you didn’t answer my messages.’
‘I know. He called and told me. He was pissed off that I’d worried everyone. Especially you. He said you sounded scared.’
‘I was. Not so much for you at that point. I was more concerned. But I was scared to talk to him,’ she admitted. ‘Afraid that I’d bring back bad memories for him. But if I did, he hid it well. He was the perfect gentleman.’
‘I don’t think you can bring back bad memories, Scarlett. Not for any of us. We haven’t forgotten Mikhail or the pain of losing him, so there’s nothing to remember. It’s with us every day.’ He paused a long moment and she could feel him watching her. ‘So if that was stopping you from calling before, put it out of your mind.’
She swallowed, well aware that he was no longer speaking of his uncle, but of himself. ‘Good to know,’ she murmured. ‘But back to Delores.’
‘Of course. She who shall not be named “the woman who lived”. Does she know I’m coming with you?’
‘Yes. She said she was looking forward to meeting you. That you were the only O’Bannion sibling she hadn’t yet met.’
Marcus’s mouth fell open. ‘What? You mean Audrey . . . and Stone?’
‘Yep.’ Scarlett had been completely stunned by the information as well. ‘Audrey’s visited her several times since she got out of the hospital. Even did a fund-raiser for her shelter. That girl is wicked smart with fund-raising.’
‘She learned from my mom, so she learned it from the best.’ He shook his head hard. ‘Stone too?’
‘Stone too. He visited her while she was still in the hospital and here at the shelter. Took her flowers and chocolate and even a stuffed animal dog. She said he was sweet.’
Marcus snorted. ‘Sweet? Stone?’
Scarlett grinned. ‘Yeah, that made me chuckle too.’ She sobered abruptly. ‘Anyway, she’s still recovering. The bullet didn’t do as much damage as her hitting her head when she was thrown to the asphalt. And the massive blood loss, of course. She was very nearly dead when she was discovered. Her speech is still a little slurred and she doesn’t move as fast as she once did, but she is moving. If you try to help her, she’ll snarl at you. She is fiercely independent. She’s also a hugger, so if you’re not a hugger, you’ll need to deal with it.’
‘I’m not, but I can make an exception. Anything else?’
Scarlett sighed. ‘She still spooks easily, so don’t come up behind her. He . . . did that. Came up behind her in that parking lot.’
‘So noted,’ he said grimly. ‘How did she survive? I mean, she was shot in the back of the head. People d
on’t normally survive that.’
‘She was shot point-blank, which actually was the critical saving factor, believe it or not. It was one of those weird medical marvel things. Deacon’s sister was working in the ER at the time. She said even the director of the ER had only seen this happen a half-dozen times in his twenty-five-year career. She must have tilted her head to the side at the last minute, so that the bullet hit her skull at the perfect angle. Rather than penetrating bone, it kind of skimmed over it, traveling in the space between the skin and the skull. Her exit wound was near her temple, but it was truly only a flesh wound.’
She glanced over to see him frowning at her. ‘You are bullshitting me,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘I swear it’s true. You can ask Deacon. Just don’t ask Delores. She’s not ready to talk about it yet.’
‘I will. Ask Deacon, I mean. And I won’t ask Delores. So how do you know her? Did you visit her in the hospital too?’
‘Only once. I was busy while you all were lounging in hospital beds eating yummy Jell-O.’ She let out a quiet sigh. ‘There were a lot of bodies to identify when the dust settled.’ She cleared her throat brusquely. ‘I got to know Delores better once she’d reopened her shelter. Dani and Faith adopted dogs and dragged me along. I got suckered into taking one home with me too.’
‘That’s nice,’ he said quietly. ‘Really nice.’
‘Not really. Zat gives more to me than he gets, I’m afraid.’
‘Yeah, I get that. BB – the dog I’ve been walking in the park – belonged to Mikhail. I didn’t want her at first, but nobody else would take her. Stone says he’s allergic, and Audrey, while wicked smart with fund-raising, isn’t exactly Miss Dependable. She’d forget to feed her or walk her. Jeremy’s been busy getting Keith back on his feet.’ Marcus shoved his fingers through his hair, suddenly agitated. ‘And Mom . . . she couldn’t even look at the dog without bursting into tears, even when she was sober.’
‘So you took BB,’ Scarlett said, trying to soothe the hurt that obviously ran deep. This wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned his mother and her sobriety issues.
‘Yeah. It’s good not to come home to an empty apartment,’ he admitted.
‘Or an empty house.’ Scarlett pulled off the main road and on to a badly paved driveway, wincing when the car hit one of the many potholes in their path. ‘Sorry. Delores’s driveway is hell on these shocks. I should have brought the Tank.’
‘That thing still runs?’ he asked, then froze. ‘Shit,’ he added in a mutter.
Stunned, Scarlett slowed to a stop in front of Delores’s house, turning in her seat to stare at him. He averted his face, assiduously staring out the window. ‘Marcus? Look at me.’
‘I don’t think I want to,’ he mumbled, startling a laugh from her.
‘Well you damn well better, anyway.’ She waited until he had, guilty expression on his face. ‘How do you know about my Tank?’
‘I might have seen it . . . in your driveway.’ He winced. ‘Once or twice.’
She continued to stare. ‘You drove by my house? Twice?’
‘Or so.’
‘How did you even know where I live?’
His wince became an annoyed glare. ‘Please. Don’t insult me. A five-year-old could find your address. I didn’t stalk you. Didn’t sit outside and watch you. I just . . . drove by.’
She was torn between being appalled and idiotically aroused. ‘How many times, Marcus? How many times is “or so”?’
‘Four times in nine months. That’s all.’
‘But . . . why?’
His gaze dropped and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he exhaled on a deep sigh. ‘I was curious.’
She swallowed, trying to dislodge her heart from her throat. ‘About?’
He looked up, met her eyes, and it was like a sucker punch straight to her sternum. ‘You.’ His mouth curved. Not quite a smile, but so damn sexy that she couldn’t tear her eyes away. ‘Why? Weren’t you curious too? Even just a little?’
Her face grew hot, despite the cool air coming out of the car’s vents. ‘Maybe a little,’ she admitted, then closed her eyes. ‘Or maybe a lot.’ Her eyes still closed, she flinched when his thumb glided over her cheek, but when his palm cupped her jaw, she leaned into his touch. ‘Okay,’ she conceded huskily. ‘A whole lot.’
His deep chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Good. I was starting to die over here.’
She opened her eyes to find him watching her with a satisfied smile, his eyes grown dark with arousal. ‘Don’t die,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’
His smile faded. ‘I won’t.’ His thumb swept over her lips once before he drew his hand away. ‘I think your friend knows we’re here.’
Scarlett jerked so hard that her back smacked the armrest on the driver’s-side door, her face now flaming with embarrassment. She’d completely forgotten where they were and why they’d come. And he was right. Arms folded across her chest, Delores leaned against one of the columns supporting her front porch, a patiently benevolent expression on her face. At her side sat an enormous dog whose head reached past her hip. The dog would have looked big sitting next to anyone, but it dwarfed petite Delores, who couldn’t be more than five feet tall.
‘Goddammit,’ Scarlett hissed. ‘This is going to be public knowledge within about five seconds after we leave.’
Marcus sat back in his seat, a frown crunching his brow. ‘Did you plan on hiding me?’
‘No,’ she answered, flustered. ‘I just . . . Hell, Marcus. I’m private about things like this. Not like I’ve had to be very often,’ she rolled on, inwardly yelling at herself to shut up.
‘How many times is “very often”?’ he asked, purposely using her own words against her.
‘Two,’ she said honestly, then shrugged. ‘And a half.’ Because Bryan didn’t really count as a whole relationship. He’d just been . . . convenient. Which had been wrong for both of them.
Marcus’s dark eyebrows shot up, his eyes gleaming. ‘A half? What the hell is a half?’
‘Don’t even go there,’ she warned, ripping off her seat belt. ‘Come on. We have work to do.’
‘Yes, sir, Detective, sir,’ he barked, then smiled, causing her to stare stupidly once again. ‘As long as you know that we’ll finish this conversation once we leave here,’ he said silkily, ‘seeing as how it’ll be public knowledge anyway.’
‘Fucking hell,’ she muttered. ‘Whatever. Let’s figure out who owns that damn poodle.’
Fourteen
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 12.00 P.M.
Ken stood at his living room window, watching as Burton gently lowered Reuben’s sleeping wife into the front passenger seat of her car. He wasn’t certain if Burton’s care was due to genuine affection or simply to keep from putting any marks on her body. He wasn’t convinced of Burton’s loyalty, but he had to admit that the man was a professional in all the ways that counted.
Ken’s cell phone rang as Burton drove away, the caller ID belonging to Demetrius. ‘I was getting worried,’ Ken said tersely.
‘Aw, you do care,’ Demetrius drawled.
‘Where are you?’
‘In Loveland, for God’s sake. On foot, in the damn woods. You owe me fifteen hundred bucks.’
‘What the fuck, Demetrius? Why?’
‘Because these Testonis were brand fucking new and now they’re ruined.’
Ken gritted his teeth. One of these days he was going to kick Demetrius’s fancy shoes up his friend’s ass. ‘I meant, why are you in Loveland, walking through the woods?’
‘Because that’s where O’Bannion is. He’s with some chick cop.’
‘Fanfuckingtastic,’ Ken muttered. ‘Why are they in the woods?’
‘They aren’t. I am. I got to O’Bannion’s office after she’d gone in, so I don’t know when she got there. She came out at 11.20, stood on the sidewalk staring at her phone, then went back in. A few minutes later she came back o
ut with O’Bannion. They got in her car and drove away, her at the wheel. It’s a CPD unmarked. They turned into a private drive. If I’d followed, they would have made me, so I parked and hiked through the damn woods. Hold on, I’m sending you a picture of the cop. I think you’ll find her . . . interesting.’
Ken’s phone buzzed with the new text and, putting Demetrius on speaker, he opened the picture. Then blinked. ‘Wow.’
‘Yeah,’ Demetrius agreed. ‘She’s a looker, all right.’
Demetrius, as usual, was the master of understatement. The woman was tall, with a thick black braid wound intricately around the back of her head. She was . . . exceptional.
For the first time in a long time, Ken’s mouth actually watered. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
Demetrius chuckled. ‘Probably not. You never think as kinked as I do.’
Ken rolled his eyes. ‘I’m wondering how much we can get for her. Maybe even pair her up with Stephanie Anders and sell them as a set.’
‘You sell all the best toys right out from under us,’ Demetrius grumbled. ‘I bet she’d be a real fighter in bed. She moves like a coiled spring. I could test her first,’ he said slyly.
‘We’ll see,’ Ken said, frowning as he studied the picture more closely. ‘She looks familiar. Do I know her?’
‘Yeah, you do,’ Demetrius said, suddenly all business. ‘She looked familiar to me too, so I had DJ dig up some pictures of her for me.’
Demetrius’s son DJ had – much like Sean and Alice – proven himself extremely trustworthy over the years.
‘She’s a homicide detective,’ Demetrius went on. ‘She’s working the murder of the girl in the alley this morning. Detective Scarlett Bishop. She transferred to that CPD/FBI task force a little less than a year ago. MCES or some such shit. She worked the serial killer case last fall.’
Ken put it together. ‘She’s the woman who came to visit O’Bannion in the hospital. She was also at his kid brother’s funeral.’
‘Yep. The photos DJ found were ones I took of her at that funeral and outside the hospital back in November.’