She gathered her paperwork and his, too. “If you were trying to stop a murderer, would you really take the weekend to recharge your batteries?”
“You’re talking about a whole different kind of animal.”
“Am I? If the pawn shop owners aren’t involved with the robberies, then they’re innocent victims. One of them ended up hospitalized, so who’s to say the next one doesn’t end up dead?”
Although he admired Lola’s passion, after dealing with Jessica earlier today, he could do without the dramatics. “Look, most times this job will have you working weekends and even holidays. This case isn’t as life threatening as you’re making it out to be, so take advantage and take time off.” He grabbed his car keys off the desk. “I am.” From the pawn shop robberies. The serial kidnapping case Jessica was working was a different story. He’d love to find something new to add to her investigation and give her a reason to either invite him back to her apartment or bring her to their house. He’d love to erase the disdain and accusation from her eyes, and replace it with surprise and gratitude. Love and desire would be better, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think that would happen overnight. Not with her piss-poor attitude. Irritation rushed through him. Damn, the woman knew how to kick him in the balls.
Lola hugged the pawn shop files to her chest and stood. “The only plans I have for the weekend are to clean my condo and water my plants.” She tapped the files. “This will give me something to do.”
“If you say so.” He opened the office door. After Lola exited, he followed her down the hallway, then stopped and turned when Rachel called his name. “I thought you left already,” he said.
“I’m waiting for Owen to finish a few things. Since we drove in together, I’m stuck here.” She handed him a manila folder. “Which is a good thing for you.”
Even though Owen and Rachel had been married for over a year and were expecting their first baby at the end of next month, he still sometimes forgot they were a couple. At work, they rarely showed any signs that they were married, which was good considering their boss, Ian, would likely frown upon office PDA. But outside of work, the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He could remember a time when he and Jessica had been the same way, which was why jealousy sometimes had him declining invitations for dinner or drinks at their house.
Not wanting Lola, who’d remained with him in the hallway, to know about his new, extracurricular investigation, he tucked the folder under his arm. “Thanks. I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”
“Let me know if you have any questions. It’s too hot for me and Baby to go outside,” Rachel said, rubbing her stomach. “And if you find a connection to those missing boys, you better call me. This case sounds fascinating.”
“What case?” Lola asked.
Rachel winced. “Oops. I better go. I think I hear Owen calling for me,” she said and, with an apologetic smile, turned and headed back down the hallway.
Liar. Now he had to deal with Lola.
“Okay then, I’ll see you Monday,” he said to Lola, and began walking toward the main foyer.
“What case?” she repeated, catching up with him at the glass doors.
“It’s a side investigation I’m working.”
“Shouldn’t I know about this? We are partners.”
“We’re not partners, you’re my trainee.” When her eyes flashed with hurt, he regretted coming off like a dick and added, “I’m just getting started on this case. If I need any help, I’ll let you know. Okay?”
She gave him a curt nod. “Sure,” she said, and walked out the door.
He blew out a deep breath and waited for the ding from the elevator. After a few moments, and pretty sure Lola had made it down to the parking garage, he headed for the stairwell. While the serial kidnapping case wasn’t a secret, if Jessica completely dismissed him and asked him not to help her, he didn’t want to have to explain to Lola that he was no longer allowed to work the case because his wife couldn’t stand to be around him. Rachel would understand. She’d met Jessica and knew their history. As for Lola, he didn’t want to look like a jackass in front of her. They might not be partners, but they were coworkers. Like with the other agents at CORE, he wanted her respect. As it was, where his wife was concerned, he sometimes had little respect for himself.
When he reached his Camaro, he wondered if maybe he had been a fool for waiting around for her. Most men would have demanded a divorce. Or, at the very least, have found…companionship with another woman. Guilt caught him off guard when he pictured Courtney, a very attractive, sexy woman who had taken an interest in him a couple of years ago.
They’d met at a business function, one he hadn’t wanted to go to, but he’d had no choice. Ian had asked him to attend in his place, and he would never turn the man down. When Ian had started CORE, Dante had been his first hire. His boss had visualized creating an investigation agency—second to the FBI or CIA—that had agents who could hunt, track and profile criminals. Dante had wanted to be part of CORE from the start. Although he’d had a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice, he hadn’t opened a book on the subject since he’d been twenty-one. He’d learned about Ian’s start up agency eight years ago—six months after leaving the Navy—through a former SEAL commander and, with Jessica’s encouragement, had applied for a job that had yet to be defined. Looking back, he still wasn’t sure what Ian had saw in him, but he was grateful, especially when he considered the background of his coworkers. No doubt he was proud to have been part of a Navy SEAL team and he could kick some serious ass, but he wasn’t a former FBI criminalist, or former CIA, or had been in the U.S. Secret Service like some of his fellow agents. Ian had definitely taken a chance when he’d hired him. So, if Ian asked a favor, he jumped. And that night he’d met Courtney, he’d almost jumped right into her bed.
Jessica had stopped him. His wife’s image—killer smile, sexy curves and beautiful brown eyes—had popped into his head the moment Courtney had kissed him. At that point, he hadn’t had sex in over a year. He’d been primed and ready to take Courtney—multiple times. But he hadn’t been able to go through with it. Although he and Jessica hadn’t been living as husband and wife, the love he’d harbored for her and his dedication to their vows had had guilt deflating the moment.
Literally.
He was no saint, but he also wasn’t a monk. He also might be a fool for waiting on Jessica. But he couldn’t give up on her yet. He’d caught the relief in her eyes when he had told her they would have to go through the divorce process again. When he’d sat next to her at the card table in her dining room, he’d also noticed she’d become uncomfortable and flustered. Her cheeks had become flushed, and if she’d slid her sexy ass any further away from him, she would have fallen off the chair. Even last night, when he’d cornered her against the kitchen counter, he’d detected a hint of desire beneath her cool exterior. She’d become breathless, her body had melted against his and he’d sworn for a moment that she might lean in and kiss him.
That had been shot to hell once they’d started arguing. Still, knowing that, on some level, he had an effect on her, that she might be physically attracted to him, had him especially interested in working the serial kidnapping case. No doubt the investigation was intriguing and he’d like to put a stop to the kidnappings, but he’d also love to have an excuse to be around his wife.
Yeah, he really was a fool. What man needed an excuse to be with his wife?
A man desperate to save his marriage.
He parked the Camaro outside of Jessica’s apartment, and grabbed the manila folder Rachel had given him. Calling Jessica before just dropping by would have probably been a good idea. But he hadn’t wanted her giving him a bullshit excuse to stay away. She’d dismissed him once today and, while he prepared himself for that to happen again, he doubted she’d give him the boot once he showed her what he’d brought with him.
When he reached her apartment door, he realized he should have at least opened
the folder and taken a look at what was inside. Screw it. He knocked on her door. They’d go through it together, maybe he’d even talk her into ordering takeout. Discussing a serial kidnapper and ordering takeout wasn’t his idea of romantic, but he’d take it.
Damn, he really was a fool.
The apartment door opened. Jessica’s eyes widened a fraction before she drifted her gaze to the folder he held. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice holding uncertainty.
“Hello to you, too,” he said, and stepped into the apartment.
She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “I thought you didn’t care.”
I’m starting not to care…
In the heat of the moment, he’d said things earlier that, while somewhat true, he hadn’t meant. “I do.”
She looked to the folder again. “About the case?”
He touched her cheek even though he knew he shouldn’t. He’d been aching to hold her for so long, had missed the passion in her eyes and her sensual smiles. He’d missed her, damn it.
Rubbing the pad of his thumb along her soft skin, he forced himself to remain still before he hauled her into his arms and kissed her. “About you.”
Chapter 5
DANTE’S HEART BEAT hard beneath her palm. Each caress of his thumb along her cheek had her wanting to melt against him, soak up his strength, feel his arms around her as she cried against his chest. Their earlier argument had been invading her thoughts throughout the day. She’d tried to avoid thinking about him and the harsh words he’d thrown at her before leaving.
She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t stop remembering the anger and hurt in his eyes, or the finality of his tone. Now he stood in her doorway telling her he did care.
Uncertainty and confusion warred with her need for self-preservation. Lonely and missing the warmth of his touch, she let self-preservation win. He said he cared about her, he hadn’t said he loved her. Even if he had, she’d have had a hard time believing him. She’d treated him like crap for too many years.
Dropping her hand from his hard chest, she stepped away, the loss of his touch compounding the loneliness. “Thank you,” she said, and motioned for him to come inside.
Amusement brightened his eyes as he grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He half shrugged, the amusement in his eyes turning to disappointment. “Nothing.” He walked into her apartment and held up a folder. “I had Rachel run a check on the Roll-Baby umbrella strollers,” he said, and set it on the card table. “Any luck finding out who the Lamoni boy is?”
Guilt gnawed at her empty stomach. She should have told him she cared about him, too. If she had, though, she would have misled him into thinking they still had the chance of salvaging their marriage. In her heart, she wanted to be with him. Her head—the memories of their life together with their daughter—had stopped her.
“Not yet,” she said. “It took me hours to go through the list of males on the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children website. Then I combed through two other sites that list missing kids. I’m about half way through another now.”
He studied her face. “You look tired. Why don’t you take a break? If you haven’t eaten, I’ll order something in and we can look over what Rachel gave us.”
Us. As if they were partners. A team. Together.
If only…
“I actually thought you were the pizza delivery guy.”
“Now I know why you opened the door.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
“Not at all,” he said, and took a seat at the card table. “But I did have to break into your apartment to get you to see me. I won’t even get into having a gun pointed at my head.”
She smiled. “If I didn’t apologize before, I’m sorry for that.”
“For not letting me in, or for the gun to the head?”
“The gun,” she said with a chuckle. “For the record, it wasn’t loaded.” Even though she now lived alone, she still didn’t like keeping a loaded gun in her house. If there really had been an intruder, she could handle herself. A baseball bat or a throat punch had a way of taking someone down.
“Good to know.” He opened the file, then glanced at her. “Joining me?”
Of course she was. Rachel was a genius when it came to online research. If they could use the stroller to pinpoint the area where it was bought, maybe that could help them ID the Lamoni boy.
She pulled her chair next to him. The cologne he wore had faded, but she’d bet if they were skin to skin she could—
Don’t torture yourself. But she had been—all afternoon. When she hadn’t been regretting their argument and all of the wrong things she’d said, she had been fantasizing about how satisfying make-up sex would be. And they had plenty of making-up to do.
She cleared her throat, and made sure to keep her leg and arm from brushing his. Being near Dante and not being able to touch him the way she used to, was like having a kilo of cocaine on the table and telling an addict, “Hands off.” She scooted her bottom and distanced herself from him as much as possible, hopefully without looking obvious. Where Dante was concerned, she was addicted—to his touch and his kisses. “I didn’t realize you were going to say anything to Rachel,” she finally said.
“I told you the case interested me. When I got back to the office, I gave Rachel the name of the brand of stroller the kids were found in and asked her to see where this particular model was sold.” He looked at the first page in the file. “Rachel noted—with a smiley face—that having a serial number would be helpful. She says for this brand, it’s located on a sticker on the lower right frame of the stroller, just above the wheel.” He flipped to the next page. “Looks like the first eight digits of the serial code indicate the model year.” He moved to the next page. “Interesting.”
Curious and confident she could handle brushing against him without acting like a bitch in heat, she leaned in to take a better look. “There’s nothing but Walmart stores listed.” She reached across the table and turned the laptop to face her. After opening another browser, she typed in the Walmart website and did a search for Roll-Baby umbrella strollers. “There it is, and look. It’s only sold in select stores and says the product is not available online. At eleven ninety-nine, it’s cheap, too.”
She reached across the table again and grabbed her cell phone. After she sat back down, she opened up her investigation file and found the phone number for the Iowa detective who had posted about the Lamoni boy.
“What are you doing?” Dante asked when she dialed the number.
“I’m going to see if I can get this detective to give us the serial number of the stroller. Then I’m going to check with Shreveport, Blythe and New Brunswick PD to see if they could do the same.”
“A, other than Lamoni PD, it’s a long shot the others will still have the stroller.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” she asked, and sent the call through. “They found the boys, but not the kidnapper. Those cases might now be considered cold, but they’re still unsolved.”
“B,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “this Lamoni detective is going to want to know why you’re investigating his case.”
“I’m a cop. It’s my job.”
“A job you didn’t bother showing up for today. What if this detective checks you out and contacts your boss?”
“So what?”
“Do you want your boss to know that you’re playing hooky from work in order to run side investigations?”
Damn it, no. She handed him her cell phone. “Here, you do it then.”
“So it’s okay if my boss gives me a hard time?” he asked with a wry grin, and took the phone.
“Please, Ian loves you.” With the trust Ian placed in Dante, she’d guarantee—in Ian’s mind—her husband could do no wrong. Ian was right to do so. Dante had a strong sense of duty and, no matter the cost, had alwa
ys finished what he’d started. She glanced to the wedding band he still wore, ignored it before she began to over analyze why he hadn’t removed it and added, “Besides, CORE has no jurisdictions. You’re right, if I speak to the detective it’ll end up being chalked up as a courtesy call and I’ll be out of the loop.” She thought about her word choice. “I mean, we will be out of the loop.”
“It’s easier to attract flies with honey,” he said, his eyes probing. “What’s the detective’s name?”
She quickly looked at her notes. “Phil Walters.”
“It’s still ringing. I’m probably going to get his voice—” He held up a finger. “Yes, Detective Walters,” he said, and put her phone on speaker. “I’m Dante Russo and I work for a criminal investigation agency called CORE. I came across your Attempt to Identify bulletin and think I have a connection.”
“No sh— I mean, no kidding,” the detective said, his excitement evident. “You know who the kid is?”
“Sorry, no.”
Walters sighed. “So what’s your connection?”
She listened intently as Dante told the detective about the previous three missing children cases, and had to admit, having Dante make the call was the best choice. CORE didn’t have to worry about jurisdiction. Because they were a private agency, Ian could have his agents anywhere at any time. She, on the other hand, was confined to Chicago.
“Holy hell. I had no idea,” the detective said. “I’ll grab that serial number off the stroller and call you back with it.”
“Wait,” she said before Walters disconnected the call. “The boy, has he said anything about who had been taking care of him? You know—”
“I’m sorry, who is this?” the detective asked.
“My partner.” Dante gave her a look she couldn’t quite discern. Pride? Maybe.
“Jessica Donavan.” She looked away. She’d begun using her maiden name after she’d moved out of their house, which had been a major point of contention between them. Since Donavan was on her badge, Dante would have to deal with it and she’d have to overcome her guilt. “I’m a homicide detective with the Chicago PD.”
Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) Page 10