Touching Silver

by Jamie Craig

  “We would be here until next Sunday if I tried to dissect everything that went wrong last night.” Gone was the anger, the joking. This was Isaac stripped down, eyes darker than normal in their solemnity. “I won’t apologize for wanting to protect you. I can’t. That really would make a liar out of me. But I can apologize for being so damn condescending about it. And I am. Sorry, I mean. I was too angry to be reasonable.”

  “We were both angry.”

  “You were justified. He came to your parents’ house.”

  “And you were kind of being a jerk.”

  “One of my many expertises.”

  “So maybe I should just get used to it?”

  “I didn’t say that.” His hand splayed across the tabletop. “The truth is…you’re right. I tend to be a little more traditional than not. And a lot of the women I’ve known fall into the same kind of roles.”

  “Do you really think that? Or is it possible you’re projecting what you want onto them?”

  He shrugged. “Probably a little of both. But some of them definitely couldn’t take care of themselves if you armed them with a nuclear weapon and all they had to do was push a button.”

  “I can think of a few men who fall in that category too.”

  A glimmer of a smile. “I’ll bet. But you know what? You don’t. I’ve known that almost from the start. You’re in a class of your own. The world is full of people who put on these faces and pretend to care, or pretend to be willing to work hard, or pretend whatever it’s going to take to get what they want, but it’s all a big sham. You’re not like that. You’re the real deal, and I’ve let you down almost every step of the way. Honestly? I don’t know how to convince you, or even if you’re not better off if I don’t. All I can say is I’ll try and be better. Because I know you’re worth it.”

  Olivia traced Isaac’s finger with her nail, barely touching him. She didn’t want to admit it, but he’d knocked her for a loop when he walked away from her, and he did it again just now. She could’ve given the lecture about how she’d been taking care of herself for the past fifteen years, and she got along just fine without him, and if he disappeared tomorrow, she’d still get along just fine. She might want somebody to watch her back, but she didn’t need to be saved. It would have been a great lecture. But she watched his face as he spoke. She listened to his voice. Sincerity was there, in his words, in his eyes. He may have been acting like one, but he wasn’t actually a jerk.

  If he had been, Tiberius and her mother would have seen right through him.

  She closed her fingers over his. “You can start by cooking me breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  The fresh light sparking in his eyes happened in a blink. One moment, he regarded her with that same bleak solemnity. The next, hope burned in the brown depths fixed on her. “Are you sure? If you need more time, it’s yours. Or, you know, if you need me to stand outside your window with In Your Eyes blaring on a boom box, you can have that too.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure that’ll work for you. For one thing, you don’t have the naked vulnerability of a young John Cusack.” She leaned forward. “Of course I’m sure. If I didn’t want this to work, I wouldn’t be sitting here at all.”

  Isaac tilted his hand back to entwine his fingers with hers. “Good. Because I don’t have a boom box either. And buying off the neighbors to keep them from calling it in as a disturbance gets expensive.” His thumb brushed over her palm, soft and shivery. “If we’re going to get busted for making too much noise, I want it to be for a hell of a better reason than my Peter Gabriel’s too loud.”

  “Right,” Olivia agreed. “It should be something good, like your Whitney Houston is too loud.”

  “That’s impossible. There is no too loud for Whitney.”

  “My neighbors would disagree, but they’re all Philistines.”

  His smile spread and warmed, and he sat up in order to reach for her other hand. “Are we back to being partners again too? Because I need you that way, just as much as this.”

  “Yes, we are. I still think working together is our best shot at getting Gabriel.”

  “Not to mention Parker. Because I think I’ve figured out how we’re going to do that, and kill two assholes with one stone.”

  She had pointedly not mentioned Parker. It seemed wiser to avoid the volatile subject while they were still in the early phases of their reconciliation. But Isaac piqued her interest, and she was ready to jump back in with both feet.

  “How? Are they related?”

  “That’s what it looks like. After we got the confirmation the DNA was Parker’s, I pulled up all the gang activity since October, and then took maps of all his old haunts over to Nathan’s to work on this morning. Know what I found? All his old spots are now Gabriel’s, and the areas of the highest occurrences of violence since October were all Parker’s. He’s trying to get his territory back. Only he knows that if I saw him on the streets again, he’d be my number one priority. So he figured out he’s got to get me looking in a different direction.” He tapped the table to make his point. “He aimed me at Gabriel. With the arsons. Those never sounded like Gabriel’s work to me, especially leaving behind a body for me to find.”

  “It makes sense he’d try to play you and Gabriel off each other. No matter who loses the game, he’s a winner. But why kill the fish?”

  “Like I thought earlier. To throw me off my game. He’d know about my fish. Hell, I’ve had fish as pets since I was a kid. So to see them like that…” He stopped, his gazing sliding sideways. Within seconds, his face grew thunderous. “That son of a bitch. I should have known from the start it was him.”

  “Because he hates fish?”

  “Because he pretty much slit their throats. That’s what his little protégé Susanna did to Nathan. He’s always had a thing for knives. And he’s been slashing everything else too. My tires, the power at your parents’ house, my T-shirt—”

  “Your T-shirt?” She held up her hand. “Wait. When was this?”

  Isaac grimaced and gestured in dismissal. “Couple weeks ago. I pulled my favorite T-shirt out of the dryer and it was torn to shreds. But it was old, from when I was at the academy, and I’d put it in with my jeans, so I just figured the zipper or something got caught on it and ripped it up.”

  She blinked. “A zipper is not going to do the same thing to a T-shirt that a knife is. You of all people should have known that.”

  “Because it makes sense for someone to let themselves into my house—without my knowing, I might add—get into my dryer, cut up one old, ratty T-shirt, and then walk out without leaving a trace?” He grimaced and shook his head at how ridiculous that sounded. “I wrote it off as an accident. There wasn’t any reason for me to look at the shirt closely, except to say, ‘Oops, it’s torn, let’s throw it away.’”

  She couldn’t fault him for his response. She wouldn’t immediately think of a knife-wielding maniac either. She could, and did, fault him for his response to the rest of it, though.

  “So what are we going to do about it now? If Gabriel knew Parker was trying to move in on his territories, Parker would be murdered and dumped by now. You saw what Gabriel did to Tomas. He doesn’t fuck around. So does he just not know?”

  “I think so,” he said. “And you’re right, if he did find out, he’d be all over Parker in a heartbeat.” He leaned closer. “What do you think of the idea of getting a message to Gabriel that says as much?”

  “I think that would definitely make our lives a little easier. How do you suggest we do that? Because Gabriel hasn’t been returning my calls.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “I was wondering about Rico, actually. He’s got to have connections with the gang still. And it’s not like he has to deliver the message personally. Do you think we could get him to do it?”

  “Only if I promise to return the favor somehow. After Gabriel targeted his church, he’s not too interested in helping out. I’m going to owe him.”

  �
��If we nail Gabriel with this, we’ll have a lot of leeway from the station. He can probably get anything he wants.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get in contact with him today. I should be able to work out a deal with him.”

  Tucking her hand into his, Isaac stroked the side of her thumb, long, slow caresses that reminded her of being stretched out underneath him, his body sliding up and down along hers as he drowned her in kisses. “You get all the credit for nailing Parker for this and the arsons, you know. You had your eye on the ball this whole time. The stalking, the research. Not to mention opening the door on finally collaring Gabriel. You ever get tired of Siberia, make sure your first stop is my department. I could use a partner like you full-time.”

  A lump suddenly formed in her throat, and she looked away quickly, knowing Isaac would be able to see the emotion in her eyes. She didn’t know if he meant it as a real offer, but the fact he would say it—and say it so casually—said more about his true feelings than all of his speeches. “I might take you up on that some day. After I solve all my cases in Siberia. At the rate I’m going, it should only take another…twenty, twenty-five years, tops.”

  He grinned. “Keep me on as your favorite consultant, and we might be able to chop five or so years off that.”

  “You know what I find most attractive about you? Your modesty.”

  “Hey, I’ll have you know that is me being modest. I wanted to say ten, but I thought that sounded like bragging.”

  “Are we still talking about years?” Olivia asked with a smirk. She squeezed his hand and stood up. “I’ve got to order lunch. What do you want?”

  He twisted in his chair to look up at the menu mounted over the counter. “Turkey Reuben, double cheese, fries and a pickle,” he said, and then smiled. “I seem to have gotten my appetite back.”

  “Good, because I plan to take advantage of your rather voracious appetites tonight. All of them.”

  As she started to walk away, Isaac caught her hand and pulled her back, tugging hard enough to force her down close enough for him to cup the back of her neck. His subsequent kiss was soft and slow, much like the strokes along her hand when he had been holding it, and it lasted far too briefly for her satisfaction.

  His thumb brushed over her quivering lower lip. “Just because,” he murmured. As if he needed to offer no other explanation.

  Maybe no other explanation was needed between them at all. Why was she willing to turn her back on rules she kept for herself for the last decade? Just because. Why did it hurt to spend a night angry with him? Just because.

  Why had she fallen in love with him?

  Just because.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She’d had a boyfriend in college who couldn’t do much beyond make himself bowls of cereal. But she loved him, and she didn’t want him to starve, and it wasn’t his fault his mother had crippled him with her love. She cooked at least half of his meals, if not more. And he loved to experiment. He would eat anything she put in front of him, and she used him as an excuse to try every single recipe she could find. Cooking soothed her—measurements and cooking times and temperatures. It all made sense. The relationship didn’t work out—it turned out his mother had crippled him in more ways than one—but Olivia still had a huge box of recipes. And she still enjoyed cooking.

  She got home by six, giving her two hours to work with before Isaac arrived. It took her nearly the whole afternoon to get a message to Rico, get in contact with him and then work out a satisfactory deal. She’d been right. Rico didn’t want to help unless she promised him a few things—and everything came down to safety and freedom. She offered him every guarantee she could.

  Just after five, Rico had sent her a terse text. It’s done.

  Now they had to play the waiting game. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but they were waiting for Parker’s corpse. She knew the right thing to do: Find him, arrest him, try him, convict him. But Parker knew Gabriel was a dangerous enemy and an even more dangerous ally, and he’d risked it anyway. Isaac and Nathan and Remy would say good riddance but Olivia didn’t have a personal history with Parker, and she wasn’t as jaded as her new friends. She supposed if Parker’s body did show up, a small part of her would always regret it. Things tended to be less messy when they kept to the book.

  She left the office after she heard from Rico but didn’t go directly home. She’d stopped at the grocery store, the movie store, the bakery and the adult bookstore. Fortunately, the sun went down by five o’clock. She didn’t mind going into the sex shop at all—as long as the sun wasn’t up.

  Olivia put in her Aretha Franklin CD and blasted it, singing along as she worked in the kitchen. Tiberius sang, too, howling and barking happily as he pranced around her feet and she dropped scraps of food into his waiting mouth. Tiberius loved it when she cooked. By the time eight rolled around, the bread bowls were warming in the oven, the chili was bubbling on the stove, and she had changed into her favorite old jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt. It wasn’t the sexiest thing she owned, but she didn’t think Isaac needed sexy. He needed a place where he could relax. And smile.

  She liked it when he smiled.

  The knock at her door came at five after eight. Her heart jumped a little in anticipation as she wiped her hands off and strode out to answer it. Tiberius padded after her, but hung back out of the way as she pulled the door open.

  There it was. The smile she’d been waiting for.

  He was freshly showered, his hair still damp. His worn jeans hugged his long legs, and his open coat revealed the button-down shirt, untucked and open at the collar. He’d shaved too. He looked good. Very good.

  And happy to see her.

  He held out his hand, a plastic bag dangling from his fingers. “I wasn’t sure what was on the menu for tonight. But I figured Oreo cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory went with everything.”

  “It does.” She took the bag from him. “It’s the little black dress of the food world. The menu is simple tonight. Chili in bread bowls, chips and beer.”

  He followed her inside, closing the door behind him before shedding his jacket. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. Get to the kitchen and put the dessert in the fridge before he catches you ogling.

  Isaac remained a step behind.

  “Please tell me you’re not one of those people who doesn’t put any meat in chili.” He leaned over the stove and inhaled deeply. “God, that smells good.”

  “No, there’s sirloin chunks and pork in my chili.” She nodded at a plastic sack on the counter. “I was thinking the theme for the evening would be quiet night in. I rented some movies. Not my usual fare, but I thought you might like them.”

  She refused to watch to gauge his reaction as he checked out the titles, but his chuckle said enough.

  “Okay, Say Anything I get. I pretty much asked for that.” He held up the other DVD. “But a romantic drama where the guy doesn’t get the girl in the end? Tell me you’re not trying to hint at something I was too thick to see at the sandwich shop.”

  “He doesn’t? Thanks for spoiling the end of the movie.”

  “I’d say oops, but hasn’t everybody seen The Bodyguard? It’s an American classic.”

  Olivia hid her smile by bending to pull the bread out of the warm oven. “I’m woefully unschooled on the classics. Plus, I always thought Kevin Costner was a bit smarmy.”

  Isaac caught her by the waist as she set the tray on the counter, pulling her gently back against his chest. “I guess I’m going to have to start schooling you, then.” His breath was warm against her ear, his body more so. “And you’ll have to start schooling me on whatever your usual fare is.”

  “My usual fare tends to include private dicks and dames with great gams,” Olivia said, distracted from the bread by his tongue tracing her ear. She turned in his arms and looked up to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if you want to talk shop tonight, but Rico agreed to help.”

&n
bsp; “I don’t think we’d be us if a little shop talk didn’t pop up every once in awhile.” He seemed fascinated by her mouth, his hand coming up to trace her lower lip. “But that’s good news. One step closer to this being over with.”

  Olivia nodded, wrapping her arm around his neck. “I can’t tell you how happy I am about that.” She stretched and brushed her lips across his. “And I’m happy you’re here too.”

  He sighed into the kiss, returning the gentle caress with a slow deliberation. “Part of me was afraid I dreamed the sandwich shop. I fell asleep at my desk when I got back to the station. I was half-convinced you were going to slam the door in my face when I showed up here tonight.”

  Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of his cologne—Hugo Boss, she now knew. How did a man who didn’t sleep at all the night before and napped at his desk still smell so good? “What can I say? I’m a sucker for anybody who wears silk shirts to work and promises to do anything to make me happy.”

  His hand curled through her hair, fingers tender against her nape as he slowly tilted her head to the side. Isaac skimmed his mouth over her jaw, the tip of his tongue darting out to dance over her skin, until he reached the curve of her shoulder. There, his lips parted further, teeth nipping at the muscle until goose bumps erupted along her arms.

  “You have to stop me,” he said. “I want to hold you bad enough to skip dinner, and I’ve got less self-control than Nathan or Remy right now.”

  For the moment, Olivia had a very hard time remembering why they couldn’t skip dinner. She made the effort of providing dinner and entertainment, he made a note of it, and now they could go right to the bedroom.

  “Well, we have two choices. We could curl up on the couch, eat dinner, and watch a classic romantic comedy from the eighties, or we can go to bed.”

  “Well, the nice thing about chili is…” he reached past her and turned the burner down on the stove, lowering the flame beneath the pot until it was barely a flicker, “…it tastes even better the longer it cooks.”