She gulped the remainder of her wine. “Creed.”
“What?”
Cupping the empty wineglass between her hands, she propped her back against the edge of the counter for support. “Ruben Creed has been…accompanying me.”
“Stalking you?”
“He showed up at the restaurant yesterday. That was the first time I’d seen him outside the office.”
“That’s why you looked ready to puke when I came back from the can.”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you say something then?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to think I was loony tunes.”
“How can he be…offsite?”
She took some weird comfort in Garcia’s businesslike description of Creed’s behavior. Her dead partner was “offsite.” “I’m what’s haunted, not the office.”
“Is that possible?”
“That’s how Creed explained it. He says—” She looked down at the empty wineglass in her hands.
“Spill it.”
She looked up. “He says he scared those bums away for me.” She smiled weakly. “A good thing, right?”
Garcia went up to her, put a hand on her arm, and walked her out of the kitchen, taking the wineglass out of her hand as they went. “I’m staying the night.”
Garcia’s offer came too quickly, and it made her nervous. “No, you don’t have to stay. I mean, not for protection…Ruben wouldn’t hurt me. He’s been helping me.”
Garcia set the wineglass down on the coffee table. “You don’t sound too convinced of that yourself.”
Bernadette dropped onto the couch. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He pulled off the towel and rubbed his head with it. “I don’t like this one damn bit. I’ll get dressed and make us dinner. I can crash on the sofa.”
“It’s my own fault. I let him hang around the cellar. He even started helping me. Doing computer work on the case.”
He sat down next to her. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
“Don’t be mad. I really need a friend right now. Believe it or not, you might be my best friend. How pathetic is that?”
He threw an arm around her shoulders. “I feel the same way, except not the part about it being pathetic.”
Laughing, she looked up at his damp face and tousled hair. She opened her mouth to continue describing Creed’s office appearances and suddenly felt Garcia’s lips over her own. She put her hands on his chest to push him away but instead savored the feel of the hard muscles under his shirt.
Groaning, Garcia peeled his mouth off hers. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Yes, we should,” she said hoarsely.
Garcia kicked the coffee table away from the couch. Together, they slipped off the cushions and went down on the floor, with him on top of her. “Am I too heavy? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I won’t break,” she said.
He cupped her breast through her T-shirt while his mouth went to the side of her neck. She put her hand over his and moved his fingers under her shirt. He trapped her nipple with his large rough palm. “You feel so good under my hands. So beautiful,” he murmured, his mouth gnawing her breasts over the thin cotton.
Cradling the back of his head, she pressed him closer and arched her body into his. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Garcia’s body tensed. He raised his torso off hers and looked down at her with half-shut eyes. “I am so sorry. This is a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
He gently disengaged her arms and rolled off her. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he said to the ceiling, and got to his feet.
She propped herself up on one elbow and watched him. “Where are you going?”
He scooped his clean clothes off the kitchen chair. “I’ll get dressed and get out of here, if you feel safe. If you’re sure Creed won’t do anything.”
She ran a hand through her hair and got to her feet. “I want you to stay.”
“That’s why I need to leave, before this turns into an even bigger mistake for the both of us. For our careers.” Hugging his clothes to his chest, Garcia went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
She sat back down on the couch, unsure of what to do. She hadn’t seen this coming, but Creed had. Could he look into the future, or was he simply a good judge of the male character? Both possibilities were annoying.
The bathroom door popped open, and a fully dressed Garcia walked out carrying the bag of dirty clothes. “I’m so sorry this happened. This was my fault entirely. A big mistake.”
She followed him to the door. “Stop calling it that. You’re making it sound like a—a checkbook overdraft.”
He spun around. “I want you so bad it hurts. I haven’t had a serious thing since my wife died, and I have a feeling we could—”
“We could!”
“I gotta go home and take another shower.” He turned around, opened the door, and left.
“We could,” she said to the closed door.
Bernadette shuffled back to the couch, dropped onto the cushions, twined her arms around her torso, and bent in half.
“I told you so.”
She didn’t bother looking up at him. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s just what I need right now.”
“You’re going to get in trouble, missy. By becoming attached to each other—”
“We aren’t attached. We’re both lonely and in need of a good lay. Stop reading so much into it.” She got up from the couch, marched into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.
“I could go for a beer,” he said to her back.
She exhaled an exasperated surrender and reached inside for two bottles. “St. Pauli?”
“St. Pauli is great.”
PUBLISHED BY DOUBLEDAY
Copyright © 2008 by Missing Persons, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States by Doubleday, an imprint of The Doubleday Broadway Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.doubleday.com
DOUBLEDAY and the portrayal of an anchor with a dolphin are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Persons, Terri
Blind rage / by Terri Persons.—1st ed.
p. cm.
1. United States. Federal Bureau of Investigation—Officials and employees—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3616.E815B56 2008
813'.6—dc22 2007041278
eISBN: 978-0-385-52667-8
v1.0
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Copyright
Blind Rage Page 32