by Debra Webb
And what was so wrong with this handsome detective? another voice challenged. God, there it was. The part of her that suffered with loneliness and wished she had a physical relationship in her life. Why was it a woman didn’ t feel complete without a man in her life? Was this God’ s sense of humor at work? Or maybe it simply boiled down to basic biology.
That’ s all she really needed, wasn’ t it? Just some good sex to stave off depressing nights like tonight?
“ I wanted to ask how your friend is doing.”
He was lying. He hadn’ t driven all this way just to find out information he could have gotten over the phone. He might be a great detective, might even fool the suspects he interrogated, but whenever he lied to her she could tell.
“ She’ s stable.” Hanging on by a thread, she didn’ t say. “ Still unconscious, so we don’ t know any more about what happened than we did when we found her.”
He nodded, his expression somber. He knew the way this worked better than she did. No cop wanted a case to stand still. Not moving forward equated to going backward. In some aspects of the overall investigation Kayla had made definite headway, but in others she was still running blind.
“ Can we talk?”
Something changed in his expression then, and the transition set her on edge. “ What’ s up?”
He inclined his head toward her house. “ You could invite me in?”
She would have liked to think that the query was an invitation based on the other night’ s confession of attraction, but she sensed that there was something more on his mind.
A new kind of apprehension working its way into her composure, she shrugged. “ Sure, why not?”
He followed her onto the porch, waited patiently while she unlocked the door. She flipped the wall switch and a lamp next to the sofa bloomed with soft light. She cringed. She hadn’ t picked things up in a while, and Christmas decorating paraphernalia was scattered everywhere.
“ Would you care for a glass of wine?”
She hadn’ t meant to make the offer but she could damn sure use one herself. It wasn’ t like she could have a drink without asking him and taking the edge off this night had just gone from a nice idea to an outright necessity.
“ I’ d love one.”
She peeled off her jacket and tossed it onto a chair. Her utility belt, including her weapon, followed. She didn’ t need to worry about it lying around tonight. Jazz wouldn’ t be here. A fresh stab of pain sliced through her heart. This evening had definitely sucked.
In the kitchen she pulled the half-empty bottle of white wine from her fridge and dug through her cabinets until she found two stemmed glasses. She thought about the wine and glasses at Christine’ s house. Prints had been lifted from both the glasses and the bottle, but no match in any of the databases had been found. No real surprise there.
Someone Christine knew, most likely, had entered her home, shared wine with her, then shot her. Kayla wouldn’ t have been so certain about that were it not for the way the glasses had been stored. Christine Evans was too particular to have put the glasses away dirty and to have stuck a bottle of red wine under the sink. In fact that quick cleanup had been so sloppy, Kayla felt certain she’ d interrupted the perp.
Kayla’ s thoughts went back to Nurse Betsy Stone. It could have been her. Damn, she hated to think the nurse was capable of attempted murder, but she’ d certainly been involved with what happened to Rainy. Criminal activity escalated more often than not. There was every reason to believe at this point that she could be involved in most anything.
With the glasses filled, she made her way back into the living room where Peter Hadden waited. He’ d occupied himself with looking at the collection of framed photos she had sitting about. Most were of Jazz, from infancy to this last Thanksgiving. A few of family. Then one or two with Jazz and Kayla together. Not a single one of the father.
God, she had to get past the whole Mike issue. It wasn’ t like his sudden appearance was the end of the world.
Enough was enough. She glanced at the answering machine as she passed it, two messages. Just like he’ d said.
“ Your daughter is really gorgeous,” Peter said as he set a photograph back on the mantle.
Hadden. Not Peter.
“ Thanks.” She handed him the glass in her left hand.
“ Thank you.” That high voltage smile flashed, sending a little shock wave straight through her.
Flustered, frustrated, and just plain fed up, Kayla took a long drink of her wine. She had to regain control here.
“ She’ s with your family tonight?”
Nosy, wasn’ t he?
“ Yeah. We had a fight.” She gulped another swallow, hoping against hope the alcohol would hurry up and do its woefully needed work.
“ About Mike Bridges.”
She almost choked, coughed then cleared her throat. “ You got a crystal ball in your pocket, Detective?”
Maybe he was the one who’ d been following her. Nah, that couldn’ t be right. What would be his motivation?
“ I called looking for you over the weekend and your partner said I shouldn’ t give you any grief because you had enough already with the shooting of Christine Evans and Jazz’ s father showing up.”
Kayla considered whether capital punishment applied when one cop killed another. Jim must have really been worried about her. She had complained a number of times about Hadden’ s annoying interference. She narrowed her gaze. More likely the fine detective had wormed it out of her pushover of a partner.
“ That’ s right,” she admitted. “ He’ s decided he wants to know his daughter after all this time.” Why the hell was she even telling Hadden this? “ His timing stinks, but then it always did.”
Hadden set his glass on the nearest table. “ I wish I didn’ t have to dump more bad news on you.”
Kayla went still. “ What?” She set her glass next to his. Had he learned something else about Rainy or Marshall? If he was here to try and convince her that Marshall was a bad guy, well, he could just save himself the energy.
“ Kayla, Marshall Carrington is dead.”
She blinked. Her mind refused to accept the words her ears clearly heard. “ What did you say?”
“ I’ m sorry to have to tell you this, but he was killed in a smuggling operation. The authorities in Bogotá haven’ t given us all the details yet, but the FBI is looking into the incident. The consensus is that the deal went sour and Marshall was caught in the middle.”
Bogotá? FBI?
She shook her head in denial. “ He said he wouldn’ t be going to Colombia until after the new year.” This didn’ t make sense.
“ The trip got moved up. His contact in Tucson called and passed along the instructions Friday afternoon.”
“ But I just talked to him— ”
Hadden wrapped his strong fingers around her arms and gazed down at her with genuine sympathy. “ I know you didn’ t want to believe the worst about him, but what I told you is true and it cost him his life.”
She shook her head again. “ This is crazy. I need to call— ” She couldn’ t think what to say… how to proceed. This couldn’ t be real. No way. There had to be a mistake. “ Who identified the body?” That’ s it. It was a mistake. Marshall had been confused with someone else.
“ A Bureau agent identified him, Kayla. There is no mistake.”
She jerked free of his hold. “ Why would he be involved in smuggling? It’ s not like he needed the money!” She froze, her mind screaming but her body unable to respond immediately. “ Are… are you thinking that what he was involved in had something to do with Rainy’ s murder?”
“ I don’ t know. We believe he kept that part of his life completely secret from Rainy, but his associates could have known about her.”
“ How long… ” God, even asking the question felt like an outright betrayal to the man she had adored and respected. “ How long was he supposed to have been involved with this smuggling?” A fr
own nagged at her brow. “ And what the hell was he supposed to be smuggling?”
“ There’ s not a lot I can tell you,” Hadden cautioned. “ I can say that he’ d been involved for at least two years, maybe longer. I can’ t share more than that at this point. But,” he pressed her with his piercing blue gaze, “ trust me when I say there’ s no evidence that ties his activities to Rainy’ s death.”
He still refused to call it a murder.
She turned away from him, unable to deal with the truth she saw in his eyes. All that she’ d believed in was suddenly going to hell. Rainy was dead. Athena Academy was somehow involved. Christine Evans and Betsy Stone were up to their necks in secrets, one fighting for her life in the hospital, the other missing, maybe even dead. And now Marshall. Jesus, that didn’ t even include Mike’ s sudden interest in her daughter.
The idea of what might be next was too terrifying to contemplate at the moment.
“ I really am sorry, Kayla.” Hadden moved in close behind her. Her body reacted instantly to his nearness. “ I didn’ t come here to gloat. I wanted to be the one to tell you because I knew you’ d be hurt.”
Anger flared inside her. She swiveled to face him. “ Well, you were right. Bully for you. What do you want now? A medal? Thanks, Detective, but you aren’ t likely to find any compensation here.”
The angst in his expression told her she’ d accomplished her mission. She’ d cut him to the bone. Somehow the realization gave her no satisfaction.
“ I should go.”
Before he could walk away, a truckload of contrition heaped onto Kayla’ s shoulders. “ Wait.” She closed her eyes and blew out a weary breath. “ I’ m the one who’ s sorry.” She’ d have to call the girls. Alex…
Who would call the Millers? She wasn’ t sure Marshall had any close family living. Did he have an attorney?
She opened her eyes once more and lifted her gaze to Hadden’ s. He did look as if he cared how she felt. Or was that wishful thinking?
She so needed something good to be real tonight.
The hurt from seeing Mike with Jazz and that damned laptop. Watching Christine lie in ICU on the edge of death. Discovering the identity of a young woman who might be Rainy’ s child. Marshall’ s death. It was just too much.
His arms were suddenly around her and Kayla didn’ t resist. Couldn’ t possibly have held back. She needed his strength, his warmth. Needed him.
For a long while he held her that way, allowing her to lean against him. But that would never be enough.
Without having to say a word, he suddenly understood that she needed more. He lifted her face to his and he kissed her, long and thoroughly. He took his time, didn’ t rush, allowing the sweet sensations to wash over and over her again and again.
Kayla couldn’ t remember how long it had been since a man had held her… kissed her this way. Didn’ t even want to think about it. She just wanted to feel.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the hall. “ Second door on the left,” she murmured between kisses.
That was all the instruction he required.
Peter Hadden lowered her to her feet in the middle of her cluttered bedroom. One by one he released the buttons of her police-issue shirt, then pulled it free of her slacks and pushed it off her shoulders. He ushered her to the edge of the unmade bed, then knelt before her to remove her shoes and socks.
Kayla said nothing. She simply reveled in watching him. His unhurried movements. His close attention to every single detail, like the way he massaged her bare feet. The feel of his long fingers soothing, caressing almost undid her completely.
He released the button at her waist. She stood just long enough for him to lower the zipper then tug down the slacks. At last she was naked save for her bra and panties. The way he skimmed her body with his eyes, his expression awed, she couldn’ t possibly feel embarrassed, only flattered… desired.
With slow, infinite finesse he kissed her belly, teased her flesh with his tongue.
Her body quivered in anticipation. She couldn’ t take it.
Tugging him to his feet she assumed control. She wasn’ t nearly so patient and careful in removing his clothes. Buttons flew loose from his shirt. He kicked off his shoes and she dragged down his trousers and briefs.
Finally they were on the bed together, his weight bearing down on her. The panties and briefs disappeared. The bra fell away. He was touching her all over, with those skilled hands and that wicked tongue.
His kisses went on and on, pleasured every part of her and she paid him back in kind.
When neither of them could take the building tension any longer, he entered her… held completely still for one endless moment. When they could breathe again he started to move… she met his every thrust until they came together in a searing blast of frantic release.
The second time they reached for each other, both had grown bolder, more creative, allowing for an even deeper physical satisfaction. This time it was about pure pleasure, not the desperation of the first time.
His breath ragged from his recent climax, Hadden slumped against her back. The smooth, damp feel of his skin set hers on fire all over again. She snuggled deeper into the covers, arched her bottom against him and relished the feel of him on top of her, his still-hard sex pressed firmly against her buttocks.
She should have known it would be like this. Maybe that’ s why she’ d resisted the attraction for so long.
There had been other men in her life, but somehow, she had known Peter Hadden was different… special. Too good to be true. She shivered, suddenly uncertain of herself.
“ I may not survive this night,” he murmured against her ear. “ You are incredible.”
Kayla couldn’ t prevent the smile that tickled her lips from widening into a grin. “ Don’ t talk,” she warned. “ Catch your breath so we can go again.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “ Fine by me.” He kissed lower, flicked his tongue in slow circles on her flesh. “ This time you can be on top first.”
“ You like that, do you?” she asked, forcing away her feelings of vulnerability.
She started to turn over, but he stopped her. “ Hold still.”
She obliged, unsure she actually wanted to wait for anything. Considering the second round had been markedly more delicious than the first, she could only imagine how round three would be.
“ What’ s this?”
He touched a sensitive place on her back just above her shoulder blade.
“ What does it look like, a mole?” She had noticed a tender spot now and again at the edge of where her bra strap hit, but each time she’ d tried to see the cause in the mirror it simply looked like an irritated mole.
“ I don’ t think this is a mole. I think… hmmm.”
“ What?” She pushed her way into a sitting position, forcing him to move off her. “ What is it?”
“ Let me wash my hands.” He climbed off the bed. “ Do you have some peroxide and maybe some Q-tips?”
“ In the bathroom.” Frowning, Kayla watched him trot to the adjoining bathroom. But the view had her frown fading fast. He had a great ass. Truly superb, muscled buttocks that made her insides contract with want… even after two sessions of phenomenal sex.
“ Look under the sink,” she shouted when she heard him rummaging through her medicine cabinet. Maybe a third round wasn’ t a good idea after all.
Prompted by the sound of water running she decided maybe she should at least pull on her panties. By the time she’ d tracked them down and tugged them up her legs he was back, peroxide, Q-tips, and cotton balls in hand.
Her gaze instantly dropped from that well-defined chest to a six-pack abdomen and then lower still to runner’ s legs and a semi-aroused sex. The air hissed out of her lungs.
Oh, yes. There would have to be a round three.
Whatever tomorrow might bring… she was going to enjoy this. The damage was done. She’ d slept with him. What difference did it
make if it was once or four times?
“ Sit.” He gestured to the edge of the bed. She obeyed. He settled onto the bed behind her. “ This might sting a little.”
“ What the hell is it, Hadden?” She absolutely would not call him by his first name and make this any more personal.
“ We’ ll see, Ryan,” he mocked.
Her face flushed with the idea that he knew exactly what she was doing. She felt him probing with one of the Q-tips and she focused on that for the moment.
“ Ouch!”
“ Sorry.”
Sorry or not, he kept prodding. She gritted her teeth to keep from complaining further. No way was he going to call her a wimp.
“ Got it.”
He dabbed peroxide onto the wound. “ Check this out while I get the antibiotic ointment and a bandage.”
He handed her a cotton ball with a tiny object, about the size of an apple seed, on it. What the hell?
Carefully she set the cotton ball on the dresser and put on a T-shirt. She needed a magnifying glass. She picked up the cotton ball, then moved into her living room and fished for the magnifying glass she kept in her desk. If need be she’ d drag out Jazz’ s chemistry set. But a microscope might not be necessary.
Ten minutes later, her wound covered with ointment and a bandage, she’ d dug out the microscope and both she and Hadden had taken turns viewing the object.
“ It’ s a tracking device,” she pronounced, bewildered.
“ I agree.” He drew back from the child-size microscope and looked at Kayla. “ When do you suppose you picked this up? And where?”
Thankfully he’ d pulled on his pants, otherwise she might not have been able to concentrate. She raked her fingers through her hair and wracked her brain for an answer. “ I don’ t know. I… ” The memory of fainting at the academy back in August shortly after Rainy died slammed into her memory. She’ d gone there just after Rainy’ s funeral to make a copy of Rainy’ s medical file. She’ d passed out, right by the copier. At first she’ d thought it was from stress, but later she and the Cassandras had discovered that the Cipher— the assassin who’ d killed Rainy— had a device that used a frequency to cause people to pass out. He’ d used it to cause Rainy’ s accident. He’ d later tried to do the same to Alex, while she’ d been driving. And he had likely used it on Kayla. And now she could guess why.