by Vella Day
“You have any idea who would do this?” one of the officers asked. “An aggravated student perhaps?”
Sam ran through the list of names in his class. “No.” He was damned if he was going to mention the cursed note. After the cops copied down his insurance information, they told him they’d follow up.
“That’s all?” Sam wanted the perpetrator caught—now.
“Sir, we’ll let you know when we find out something. The rock on the seat looks like it came from that flowerbed over there. We won’t be able to get prints off a surface that rough.”
Same lame excuse they gave him when his wife called to complain about someone trying to break into their house.
Carla touched his shoulder. “Come on. There’s nothing more you can do out here. The vandal isn’t going to walk up and admit he did this.” She looked around the campus, acting as if the window smasher was hiding in the bushes. Her eyes watered and she swallowed hard.
“You nervous about something?” Sam asked. He shouldn’t have freaked over a broken window. Sheesh Carla seemed to be the one chasing a bigger demon.
“Heck yes, I’m nervous.” She turned to Chance. “I want to go back inside. Curses are bad things.” She whispered the last sentence.
For a scientist, she believed in this New Age stuff a little too much. To make matters worse, Chance seemed to side with Carla. He and his friend needed to have a talk.
The moment his two cohorts disappeared, Jenna stepped out from behind the bushes, as if she’d been lying in wait. “Hey.”
“Jenna, what are you doing here?”
Her bottom chin wobbled a little. “I go to school here, remember?”
She wasn’t studying botany. “Someone broke my car windshield. You know anything about that?” He hated himself for his cruel tone, but she always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Her brow furrowed. “No. Why would I?”
“You’ve been here a while, right?”
A genuine look of surprise crossed her face. “Not really.”
Jenna was involved somehow; he could sense it. “Didn’t you tell me you used to play softball in high school?” When he’d walked her out of the lab, the topic of her high school athletic career had popped up.
“Yeah, so?”
“Someone just threw an ace shot through my window with a big fat rock.”
Her mouth dropped opened. “And you think I would do that to you? You’re shittin’ me, right?” He winced at her foul language.
“I’m deadly serious.”
“What’s my motivation?” She held out very clean hands. His pulse lowered, but she could have used some wipes to clean off the dirt.
“How the hell should I know?” She planted her hands on her hips, and then lowered her arms just as suddenly. “Look, I’m sorry someone harmed your property. I have a cousin who does real good car window repair work. Would you like me to call him?”
“No.” He did, but he didn’t want to be indebted to her.
“Did you call the sheriff’s department at least?”
“The campus police are taking care of it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Do? Wait for the cops to find out who did this.” If history meant anything, he’d be waiting a long time.
Jenna smiled. “Have you eaten?”
Sam couldn’t believe her moxie. He was about to say no, when his traitorous stomach growled. Again.
She tugged his arm. “Come on. My treat.”
The word treat enticed him, but he wanted to investigate Jenna more thoroughly before he gave into her sexy ways. “Another time.” He pulled out of her grasp.
She cast her gaze downward. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I need to talk to you about something.”
“I’m not interested in what you have to say.” With that he strode toward HOPEFAL’s entrance and disappeared inside.
“You’ll be sorry,” she called after him as the door clicked close.
Sam’s back stiffened. He wanted to believe she was the innocent woman she portrayed, but his sixth sense told him she was up to something. Instead of heading to his office, he went to speak with Carla. When he reached her office, Chance wasn’t around. Good. Her pale skin didn’t look healthy. “You okay?”
“Oh, hi, Sam. Sure thing.”
Liar, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss her issues today. He had his hands full with Jenna. He pulled up a chair. “Do me a favor?”
“You know I will.”
He needed to buy her something special to thank her for helping him so often. “I want all the information you can dig up on Deidra Willows, the store in Ybor called Botanica, as well as Jenna Richman.”
Her fingers stopped typing and she looked up at him. “Jenna? You want me to spy on your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Carla winked. “Oh. Okay. But it’s going to cost you.”
9
Carla blew into Sam’s lab the next afternoon. “Deidra Willows isn’t the sole owner of Botanica. She’s a co-owner with two others.” She pulled up a chair from the computer station and sat down. There were bags under her eyes, and her cheeks seemed to sag more than usual.
“Who else is?”
“Her sister, Shelby Vivaldi, along with, get this, Creighton Jackson.”
“I’ll be damned.” Sam hadn’t expected that name to surface, though if the two dated, it made sense. “Did you tell Phil?”
“I thought I’d let you handle it.”
Sam paced in front of the empty gurney. “I wonder if his death could have been a result of a lover’s quarrel or a business dispute.”
Carla rubbed her hands together. “Sounds like soap opera material to me.”
“Do you know the percent of the store each person owned?”
“Fifty, twenty-five, twenty-five. With Creighton being the largest owner.”
“Who stood to inherit his portion? His son maybe? Or the two sisters?” Carla was thorough to a tee.
She shrugged and stood. “Gotta get back to you.”
“Sure.” That was the first time since he’d been here the super tech didn’t have a ready answer.
Carla turned her back as though she didn’t want Sam to see the defeat on her face and disappeared out the door. Something was wrong. Carla would have dug and dug until she knew which movie Deidra and Creighton had last seen, how much their electric bill was last month, and who they had a crush on in high school. Must be a woman thing—something he was never good at figuring out.
Shit. He’d forgotten to ask her about Jenna. He stripped off his gloves and opened the door, hoping to catch her before she reached the elevator to her office. Instead, he ran smack into Nathan Kilpatrick who wore a frown on his face.
“Nathan.” The short, squat man with the frizzy red hair and thick black glasses handed him a folder. Without as much as a hello, he stepped on by. Okay. “Something wrong?”
“I have the results of the fingerprints on the cauldron. Almost died getting here though. That idiot janitor forgot to put out a wet floor sign up and I slipped.” He brushed his rear end to emphasis his anger.
“You okay?” He seemed to be asking that question a lot lately.
“Nothing broken.”
Good. “What did you find?”
“You aren’t going to believe this. The only prints on the cauldron belonged to Creighton Jackson. He’s your dead guy, right?”
“I’m afraid so.” Now that put an interesting twist in his black pot of goodies.
Captain Lucas walked by Jenna’s desk. Without changing speed or glancing at her, he said, “Three more days.”
Wonderful, but he didn’t have to remind her. She understood full well the need to find warrant material. The backroom held the key, which meant what she needed was a distraction for Deidra while Jenna found what she needed.
Sam.
Or not.
Her faux boyfriend seemed to be convinced she was evil
incarnate—as in throwing rocks at his car and writing stupid curses. As if. She needed to change his mind somehow. Ignoring the ringing phone on the empty desk next to hers, she discarded one plan after another. Then it hit her.
Without further thought to her newfound scheme, she slipped out of the station and headed to Braham University. It was close to noon, and she had no idea if Sam ate lunch inside, or if he ate lunch at all, but she was determined to find a way to talk to him.
The HOPEFAL guard posed no problem, as her name happened to be on some special list. She signed in and he buzzed her into the inner sanctum. Though she had no proof, she suspected Captain Lucas had called Phil to tell him why Jenna was wandering about.
Fortunately, she remembered the way to Sam’s lab through the maze of corridors. However, she had to wait about fifteen minutes before someone exited the hallway door to Sam’s lab, because the hall required a fob for entrance. The last time Phil had let her in.
Once inside, she hurried to Sam’s door and rapped hard. Thirty seconds later, the door swung open. He must have been expecting someone else, because his face turned hard the moment he laid eyes on her.
Man, did she have her work cut out for her.
“May I come in?” she asked with an extra dose of sweetness.
“How did you get in?”
“Hi, to you too.”
He turned around and headed toward the gurney in the middle of the room. She followed. Talk about a foul mood. Not that she really blamed him, especially if he believed she was responsible for the recent troubles. There was no way to convince him she wasn’t without breaking cover.
She rubbed her arms to increase the circulation. “Don’t you want it a little warmer in here? It has to be hard to work under these conditions.” She couldn’t think of anything witty or flighty to say.
“Dead bodies need the cooler temperatures.” His tone sounded colder than the room.
“Or they’ll what? Turn to bone? Turn to stone?” He swiveled around and glowered. Whatever. He wasn’t making this easy. Okay, maybe it was time to cut the snark. “I stopped by to see if you’d learned who’d tossed that rock through the windshield.” Another lie, but so what?
“No.”
“Any more curses arrive?” She needed a break here.
“No.” Sam rearranged some of the bones on the gurney.
Jenna moved in close. “I was talking to my boss’s sister this morning, and she told me something you might find interesting.” Actually, Jenna had called Shelby to see how the pregnancy was going and they got to chatting.
Sam continued to mess with the fragments. “Yeah, what was that?”
“That Deidra is into performing rituals with bones.” Okay, so that wasn’t exactly the truth, but it could be true. Jenna didn’t think Deidra had it in her to kill someone though.
His hands stilled. “Do you know this for sure?” Finally, she got his attention.
She turned his shoulders toward her and ran her hands down his chest. “And if I do?” God help her for stretching the truth.
“Then maybe we should talk to your boss.” His eyes sparked with interest.
“I kind of doubt she’d admit she’s the owner of that pretty black pot of yours if that’s what you’re thinking.” Jenna stared at his lab coat, wondering what his skin tasted like hidden underneath.
“You’re probably right.” When he stepped back from her, Jenna worked to ignore the small rejection.
“You know, one time I snuck into her backroom and found a sacrificial altar.”
“Really?” The man might actually be thawing toward her.
“Guess what else I found?” She tilted up her chin.
“What?”
“Blood.”
“Blood?” Sam placed his hands around her hips, and her heart zipped into over drive. “What kind of blood?”
“What kind? Oh, I don’t know, but I bet you could find out.”
Jenna leaned into him and raised her lips, hoping he’d take the bait. She wasn’t so dumb to think he didn’t have his own agenda regarding her.
“Can you get a sample for me?” he asked.
She’d given her plan more thought on the way over. “Sure, but you’ll need to come with me.”
His interest deflated like a popped balloon. “Jenna, I need to work. Unless it involves solving this case, I can’t afford to take the time. You can’t do it yourself? You work there.”
She wasn’t going to let his attitude ruin her day. Time for part two of the plan. “No.” She refused to explain why. “Come on.” She tugged on his arm.
“You want to go to the store now?”
The stubborn man was infuriating. “No. I have a surprise for you.”
“Jenna, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Surprises imply spontaneity. Let it go. For once.”
The tension in his body seemed to release, as if she’d broken through a barrier of resistance. A small smile lifted his lips. “Okay. You win, but this better be good.”
Joy sliced through her. “I promise.”
Jenna didn’t know why it was so important to prove herself to him, but it was. She led him to the parking lot, but she had no intention of telling him her surprise would take all day.
“Where are we going?”
“To see dead bodies.”
Jenna finally pulled into the drive of his duplex and cut the engine. Sam had offered to chauffeur them the last hour, but she’d refused. Driving through the on-and-off rains in the dark took concentration and Jenna’s eyelids had started to droop. He should have insisted he take over.
He unclipped his seat belt and faced her. “You are one unique woman, Jenna Richman. I’ve never had a date take me to a body farm before.”
“I guess it’s not exactly the romantic first date many would dream of, huh. I know I loved seeing the bugs feast on the bodies. Dr. Ranfield really takes pride in documenting the effect of the environment on corpses.”
“That was my favorite part too.” She was sweet to pick a place he’d appreciate.
She climbed out of the car, and he stepped around to her side. She’d expect a kiss, but neither of them was fit for anything intimate. They both smelled. Bad. Stomping around dead bodies had its drawbacks.
Jenna clasped his arm, and a breeze blew between them lessening the odor. “Did you really think I’d puke my brains out when I saw the rotting corpses?” She turned her face upward.
“At first, yes, but you’re a lot tougher than I’d given you credit for.” She’d changed his mind about a lot of things. “You said you’d tell me how you knew the manager.” She’d mentioned she’d been to the farm before, and that’s how she’d been given permission to land a tour. He wondered if she took all her dates there? Or just him?
“The owner’s an old friend of my dad’s. We used to go there when I was young.”
His stomach clenched. “Kids shouldn’t be exposed to the horrors of death.” Didn’t matter Jenna didn’t seem any worse off for it.
“Dad wanted me to get used to the realities of life.” She crooked her fingers around the word.
“I don’t agree with his tactics. If I ever have kids, I’ll protect them for as long as I can.” He waved a hand. “On a different note, may I say your choice of restaurants was fantastic.” Even if they ate the meal in the car. Not that they had a choice. They would have driven off the patronage. She’d picked a quaint Mexican cafe whose food was superb and cheap. He placed his hands on her hips. “I had a great time, Jenna.” No lie.
“Me too.” Her smile her face lit up.
How could he have thought she’d throw a stone at his car window or send that stupid curse? Jenna was a warm-hearted woman who happened to turn his best laid plans awry.
“You want to come in for a drink or something?” God, he sounded like a teenager, but he hadn’t perfected the art of picking up women, especially after dating Tammy for three years.
“You bet.” She dragged him to his front door, and h
e let a laugh escape. The sparkle in her eyes told him Jenna had one thing on her mind—sex. While she might not like it, Sam wouldn’t take advantage of her on a first date. Keeping his distance though would take every ounce of strength he possessed.
He unlocked the front door and Jenna shot through the foyer, and then stopped. “Wow. It’s so neat. And nice.”
Neat? Hardly. The newspaper lay open in the dining room table and his breakfast dishes were still in the sink—not to mention, he needed to wallboard the kitchen, patch two holes in the dining room, and paint the living room. The duplex’s best attribute was the new laminate flooring the previous owners had installed.
“Thanks.” Sam flicked on one of the living room lamps. “You want some wine?”
She looked up at him and tilted her head. “Maybe later.” Her fingers began working their magic on his shirt buttons.
He grabbed her hands. “What are you doing?”
“Doing?” She laughed, the sound reverberating in his head.
“Well, I know what you’re doing, but now’s not a real good time. For starters, I stink.”
“I don’t smell anything.” On tiptoes, Jenna threaded her hands under his opened shirt and around to his back. God, he’d forgotten what a warm touch could do to him. Her fingers on his bare skin set him on fire. Then she kissed him. Hard. Then soft. Then hard and soft again. Her assertiveness combined with tenderness turned him on like no one had ever been able to do. His willpower was crumbling one cell at a time.
She parted her lips in an open invitation. He accepted, darting his tongue in and out. She tasted like hot sauce and spice. Jenna was sweetness and innocence all rolled into the cutest package. He kept kissing her, praying he could stop at the right moment. When she came up for air, her eyes glassed over then blew a strand of hair from her eyes, but the pesky strand returned to its position.
“Let me help you with that.” He was able to do what he’d been wanting since the moment he saw her—touch her hair. It was silky soft, yet had hard ends, but not as hard as him.