Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  “We weren’t told about any, but his wife’s down the hall in the family waiting room. Maybe she knows something.”

  Eve and Leyton thanked her and walked the short distance to the room the nurse indicated. Once inside, they saw a lone woman reading a magazine. She looked up at their entrance, offered a small smile and went back to her reading.

  “Mrs. Brandywine?” Leyton asked quietly.

  She looked up again, and it was easy to see the slight confusion in her tired eyes. “Yes?”

  Leyton made the introductions.

  Their titles made her stiffen sharply, but she pulled it together. Looking between him and Eve, she asked, “Why are you here?”

  He explained, and as she listened her lips tightened. Eve noted how well-dressed she was. The gray twinset appeared to be cashmere. There was a single strand of pearls around her neck. She looked more suited for a Sunday afternoon sorority meeting than keeping vigil for her critically burned husband.

  Leyton asked, “So, can you tell us about how he was injured?”

  Before she could respond, Marvin Crenshaw walked in. Upon seeing Leyton and Eve, he stopped and asked, “What are you two doing here?” He sounded perturbed.

  Eve answered. “We’re here about Mr. Brandywine’s injuries.”

  “He was burning leaves. I was there. Barbara, you don’t have to tell them anything.”

  Her chin came up, and the anger in her eyes matched her clipped tone. “Suppose I want to.”

  “Don’t say anything,” he ordered as if accustomed to telling her what to do.

  Leyton countered with, “Mrs. Brandywine, if you know something that will help us in this case, even if it’s criminal, it’s better you tell us now.”

  Barbara met Crenshaw’s hostile stare and then looked down into her lap.

  Leyton asked, “Mrs. Brandywine, how long have you known Mr. Crenshaw?”

  “He’s my brother,” she revealed in a disgusted tone. “My baby brother.”

  That information took both investigators by surprise.

  Crenshaw said evenly, “And as your brother I’m advising you not to say anything else.”

  “Why?” she tossed back bitterly. “If my Phillip dies, you’ll just put the blame on him. Why shouldn’t I tell them that you were the one who talked him into setting that fire?”

  “Shut the hell up!” he yelled.

  She jumped to her feet. “For once in my life, I will not! You planned it, you bought the gasoline, but you didn’t have the guts to do it yourself! You bastard!”

  And then she was across the room hitting him and swearing and crying as if her grief and anger were all she knew. Leyton immediately grabbed her and pulled her away even as she tried to free herself from his hold. “I’ll kill you if he dies! Kill you!”

  Nurses and hospital guards poured into the room in response to all the screaming, and while Mrs. Brandywine continued to wail and threaten, Eve saw Crenshaw bolt out the door. “Palmer! Call for backup!” And she sped out after him.

  “Stop! Federal agent! Stop!”

  But he kept running. An orderly pushing a mop bucket turned into Crenshaw’s path and was sent flying. “Stop him!” she yelled.

  Nurses were sticking their heads out of doors but, upon seeing the action, ducked back inside.

  Flying, Eve had her weapon drawn but knew better than to open fire in a hospital, so she kept running. He blasted through a set of doors and was out of sight until she busted through and found herself on the fire stairs. She could hear his feet pounding down the stairs below.

  “Dammit! Stop!”

  But he kept going, and so did she.

  The small hospital only had three floors, so moments later they were outside and she was chasing him under the artificial lights in front of the building. He was heading for the parking lot. Eve looked around to make sure no citizens were in sight, then raised her weapon. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

  He didn’t slow, so she squeezed off a shot over his head. “Crenshaw, you are under arrest.”

  “Go to hell, bitch!”

  That made her mad, so she kicked up her pace and gained on him. They were in the parking lot. Off in the distance she heard approaching sirens. Backup maybe, but she didn’t have the luxury of waiting to see. It was her and Crenshaw. Still running, he tore around a line of cars. She knew that if he got into his vehicle, he might manage to get away, so she increased her speed again and gained enough ground to hear his harsh breathing and to see the panic on his face when he turned and saw her just a few feet behind. For a woman with Eve’s height that few feet meant zip, so she launched herself. She tackled him, and he hit the pavement hard enough that he screamed with pain. Trained to ignore the impact’s toll on herself, she heaved him up, threw him forcibly against a car and held him there while she snatched out her cuffs and snapped them shut around his wrists. She took in a series of deep breaths to regain her wind, then, after giving him his rights, grabbed his arm and marched him back toward the building.

  Palmer appeared, gun drawn, face grim, but upon seeing her, relaxed and holstered his weapon.

  “Party’s over,” she said to him.

  Smiling, he bowed with a flourish of his hand, and she shoved the cuffed and limping Crenshaw forward.

  Later, Leyton stood in the hospital lounge that the local law enforcement had turned into a mini command post and watched Clark giving her statement to the district FBI agent. Wow. What a woman. With Crenshaw now in custody, the feds would be handling the case from that point on, including prosecution. He looked down at his watch. It was just past midnight. A lot had happened since finding out Clark and his lady Oya were one in the same. What a woman, he thought to himself again. She’d taken off after Crenshaw like she’d been shot out of a cannon. He’d stayed behind momentarily to place Mrs. Brandywine in the care of the hospital’s security unit before running out to join the chase—totally unnecessary. Not only had she run Crenshaw down, she had taken him down. Looking over at her now, all he could think about was taking her somewhere and making hard hot love until neither of them could walk. However, he had his own paperwork to complete, so he buried the fantasy, took a deep breath and began to work on the form on his clipboard.

  He was just about finished when she walked up. Without looking up, he asked, “Are you done?”

  “Yeah. Did Brandywine’s wife make a statement?”

  “Yep. Apparently, our Mr. Crenshaw has a gambling problem. Her husband’s construction company is on the rocks because of the economy so Crenshaw came up with the brilliant idea of burning the mall down. He figured when the Brandywines’ insurance check came through, they’d split the money and no one would be the wiser. And get this—he picked Detroit because in his mind, arson is commonplace.”

  “So that whole song and dance about trying to be a good brother and helping out the city was just BS.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So he was there the night of the fire.”

  “Yes, but the wife said her brother chickened out at the last minute, which is how the husband wound up with fourth-degree burns. My man Blazer was right. Amateurs.” He went back to the paperwork.

  “The Bureau will handle transporting Crenshaw back to Detroit.”

  “Good, because we need to talk,” he said still writing.

  “What about?”

  “You and me, my lady.” He could feel her go still in response but continued to write nonchalantly.

  She asked quietly, “What did you just call me?”

  For the first time, Leyton looked up, still acting as calmly as if they were discussing the weather, he said just as quietly, “My lady.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He kept his grin hidden. “Let me take this over to the local sheriff, and then we can go.” The look on her face was priceless. “And those two rooms you were going to get? We’ll probably only need one.”

  And he walked away.

  Eve stood there with her mouth on the floor. Why had he cal
led her that? Only one man had ever addressed her that way. Surely Palmer didn’t know about the costume party. Did he? And if he did, how? Had he talked to Shelly? But then she remembered that she hadn’t talked to Shelly, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe she’d been driven so crazy by the centurion that she was jumping to conclusions. And what did he mean saying only get one room? Was he planning on driving back with Crenshaw and the FBI agent? She was so confused her head was spinning. When she came back to herself he was standing in front of her, and she swore there was mischief dancing in his eyes.

  He asked, “Ready to ride?”

  “Palmer, I’m confused.”

  “That’s why every goddess should have a centurion around to explain things.”

  She froze and stared. “What!”

  His answering chuckle didn’t help her mood but cemented the fact that somehow or another he knew about the costume party. “Who told you?” she asked angrily, fighting to keep her voice down.

  “Nobody had to tell me. I was there and so were you.” He then slipped into the soft Southern voice of her centurion. “Remember?”

  Eve felt dizzy. For the first time in her life, she thought she might faint, but since there was no fainting allowed in ATF, she grabbed hold of herself, turned on her heel and strode off.

  Leyton shook his head and followed.

  Outside, he found her standing by the car and said, “Thanks for not breaking the window, hot wiring the engine and driving off.”

  “Didn’t have enough time,” she confessed, eyeing him.

  He gave her a half smile. “Been missing you, girl,” he said emotionally.

  Those four words made all of Eve’s warring emotions melt into a puddle. She had no defense against the truth she heard in his tone. “How long have you known?”

  “Just since tonight. I noticed the butterfly on your back in the weight room. It matched the one I saw Sunday night when you slipped into the bathroom to get dressed.”

  “So, you haven’t been playing me since we started working together?”

  “No darlin’, never. Seeing that butterfly at the gym almost dropped me to my knees.”

  Eve looked out into the night.

  “So, can we go somewhere and talk?”

  After a long moment of silence, she turned to him. “Yeah.”

  Chapter 7

  Eve had never considered how she’d respond should she ever meet the centurion again, so now that she had, she was at a loss as to how to handle it. On one level, she was ecstatic, of course. But on another level, she was admittedly wary. What would he want from her? Was it just more sex? She thought too highly of herself to be just a booty call. In her mind, the two of them had made a real connection that night, but did he feel the same way? Granted, he’d said he’d missed her, and the sincerity in his voice couldn’t be denied, but where did they stand really?

  She’d already called ahead to a hotel to book a room, and when they found it, she went inside to get the key while he waited outside in the car. The old Eve wanted to sign for two rooms, but the Oya part of her was ready to pick up where they’d left off on Sunday. The memories of what they’d shared overrode her cautious instincts, so she took the key to room 214 and went back outside to rejoin him. She justified the decision to herself by agreeing with his suggestion that they needed to talk.

  “We’re in 214,” she told him after she got back in the car.

  He held her eyes for a moment and then drove around to the parking lot.

  The suite was large. The national chain catered to the business class and had a small kitchen complete with pots, pans and dishes. There was a bedroom downstairs and another upstairs. A nice sized fireplace anchored the main area and she saw a couple of logs stacked beside it.

  “Nice place,” he said, dropping his overnight bag onto the floor. “I’ll take the bedroom down here if you want to take the one upstairs.

  “That’s fine.”

  She noted that he was watching her and seemed as uncertain as she. That made her wonder what he might be thinking and where they’d be when it came time to drive back to Detroit later that morning. “I’m going to put my bag upstairs,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She felt his eyes on her as she climbed the stairs, but she didn’t look back.

  When she came back down he was in the kitchen going through the phone book.

  “I’m trying to find someone who’ll deliver. I’m starving.”

  She was, too. The last food she remembered was the corned beef sandwich she’d had for lunch. She took a seat on one of the kitchen stools while he called around.

  He finally found a pizza place that promised delivery in thirty minutes, so they put in their order and he put his phone away.

  “Do you want to wait in here or on the couch?”

  “Couch.” It had been a long day—from the investigation of the fire, to driving here, to chasing Crenshaw through the parking lot. She wanted a long soak in a hot tub.

  “How about a fire?” he asked. “Logs come with the price of the room. We might as well use them.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

  So while he hunched down in front of the fireplace and lit the prefab logs with the long matches provided, she walked over and doused a few of the lights. He swung around and looked at her for a few silent seconds.

  “Can’t enjoy the fire with all the lights on,” she said.

  The dimmed lights made for an intimate setting, and only after she took her seat did she wonder if that was a good thing or not. Once he got the fire started it didn’t matter. She enjoyed the flickering shadows that filled the room.

  He sat in one of the arm chairs next to the fire, and in the silence that followed they spent a lot of time looking at each other, but no words were exchanged. It was as if neither of them knew how to begin.

  Finally, she asked, “How’d you wind up being a centurion at the party? Did you know the organizers?”

  “No. I was working. Mayor wanted the department to keep an eye on things. You?”

  “Talked into going by my cousin. She’s a Hollywood costume designer.”

  “She make the suit?”

  Eve nodded.

  “Great job.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  He chuckled softly and said again, “Great job.” He met her eyes. “When you walked in, you were the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

  His face and voice in the firelight were doing things to Eve’s senses she wasn’t sure she was supposed to be acknowledging this early in their conversation, but her growing attraction to him didn’t seem to care. All it wanted to do was remember his kisses, the way his hands had expertly roamed her body and the way he’d filled her. It also reminded her how sad she had felt leaving the hotel that night. “Never thought I’d see you again,” she told him in a voice as quiet as the flames.

  “Same here,” he added. “I kept telling myself not to think about you, but it hasn’t worked real well.”

  “Here either.”

  A smile played at the edges of his lips. “So, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to be a booty call.”

  “Me, either.”

  She laughed. Couldn’t help it.

  “What’s so funny?” he countered with mock offense. “Men don’t want to be treated like a piece of meat, either.”

  “Yeah, right. Name one.”

  He shook his head in amusement. “You’re cold.”

  The flickering shadows showed her smile.

  Leyton doubted she knew how much he’d enjoyed her company these past few days. He’d worked with a lot of women in his career, but never one so fierce or so beautiful. She was the type of lady he wanted to wake up to every morning and come home to every night—a woman who understood why he had to put in such long hours on the job, or had to leave their bed in the middle of the night because of a fire. She got it because she lived it, too, and something inside him wanted them to live that life
together. He was pretty sure he was in love with her, which didn’t make any sense because he was not the I-met-you-let’s-get-married kind of guy. He was usually cautious about starting a relationship because some women just didn’t understand the demands that working in law enforcement could place on a couple. But that wouldn’t be an issue if the partner worked in the same field. “So, do you believe we can work on something that’s more than a booty call?”

  She met his gaze and for a moment didn’t respond. He couldn’t tell whether she was trying to think of a reply or just thinking about what he’d asked.

  Finally, she said, “I do.”

  He smiled and his heart soared. “I do, too.”

  Her answering smile made him ask, “Then do you think I can come sit next to you?’

  She chuckled. “Yes, you may.”

  He came over and sat down, and when he put his arm around her, Eve felt like a teenager. Being next to him felt so natural she snuggled closer and rested her head against his shoulder. “Better?”

  He gave her a squeeze. “Much.”

  Savoring the quiet moment and the presence and nearness of each other, they sat in front of the blazing fire. With a finger he gently lifted her chin and gazed down into her eyes. Awestruck at finding each other again filled them both, and when the kiss came, it was heaven.

  They wanted to go slow but the need had been building since their separation on Sunday, and it touched off a desire to make up for lost time. They were plunged into a greedy kissing frenzy. His lips moved over her cheeks, her jaw and her eyes, while hers sought his mouth, his throat and the lobe of his ear. Hands moved frenetically touching each other as if it might be the last time, and soon they were breathing like two runners in a race. And then it became a race to see who could get out of their clothes faster. Still kissing frantically, they snatched open buttons, dragged off shirts and undid zippers. Eve only managed to get her jeans part way down her hips before she was stopped by the searing sensations of his wicked fingers between her legs. He pulled her thong down her hips and heated her with his touch. She tried to counter by planting tiny bites along the strong cords of his neck, but his fingers were impaling her and moving with such raw rhythm her body bowed up and she groaned in heated response.