For All to See (Bureau Series Book 1)

by Megan Mitcham

  “What? It’s not like we have unlimited funds or people,” Dick countered. “What makes you say that?”

  “I want inside his house and his bank accounts,” Nathan continued.

  “I want a harem of supermodels. But I’m not rich and my cock isn’t two feet long. Do you have any evidence?”

  “Fucking no. But I know he did it.”

  “How?”

  “It’s in his eyes and…and he brushed the tips of Madelyn’s hair.”

  “You’re just pissed he has a crush on your girl,” Dick chuckled.

  “It wasn’t that he did it. It was the way he did it. Have you gotten anything on his wife?”

  “So far, nothing. No bank accounts. No taxes paid in the US or the BVI in the last four years.”

  “Doesn’t that seem suspect to you?”

  “Sure it does. I have a call in to the mother, but the lady works on a boat and they won’t be back in for two days.”

  “Did you at least find an old picture of her? What color is her hair?”

  A pause weighted the line. “Brunette.”

  “You’re telling me a missing wife with brunette hair isn’t enough?”

  “Not yet, it’s not.”

  “Keep eyes on him. I don’t care if you have to take surveillance off Madelyn’s. I know this is the guy.”

  “The bartender is looking good, Brewer. No alibis. A record of assault.”

  “Women or men?”

  “Both.”

  “What’s going on?” Madelyn asked breathlessly.

  “Let me know as soon as you have a word on that body.” Nathan clicked off. He hated not being involved in the investigation. It was where he worked best, but he couldn’t leave Madelyn’s protection to anyone else. Even if it was for the best.

  “Madelyn,” Amadi called after her.

  Nathan wheeled on Amadi. “Seriously? You couldn’t keep her inside?”

  “Not unless you wanted another knock-down-drag-out in there.” Amadi hiked a finger toward the restaurant.

  “You can’t just order me around. Stay here. Do this.” Madelyn stabbed him with her finger.

  “Sure I can,” Nathan said.

  “Excuse me?” Her hands popped onto her perfectly arched hips.

  Amadi grimaced. “I’ll just go back—”

  “Take this, will you and get dinner?” Nathan handed him a credit card.

  “Dinner was my treat.” Madelyn scoffed.

  Amadi snagged the card and retreated.

  Nathan stepped close, wrapped an arm around her waist, shoved the other into her hair, and sealed their lips together. He kissed her fight away. The tangle of their mouths carried on longer than he’d planned. But once he touched her, it was hard to stop. Finally, he pulled back. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  “Even if it means taking away the freedom I’ve worked so hard for?”

  Madelyn’s whispered words pierced him deep. He didn’t want to answer because he knew how much it would hurt her…and how much he could lose.

  “Adrian Tau is the killer.”

  ****

  Madelyn tossed her tiny purse onto the island. She licked her full lips, shoved two fingers in her mouth, and stabbed the silence with a sharp whistle.

  Deacon pranced through the door and rubbed his sandy face on Nathan’s pants. “Thanks,” he whispered. He brushed the sand out the door, and then closed it behind him. The dog stood in his path to Madelyn with his tail thrashing and his front paws dancing. Nathan tossed his coat onto a stool. He rolled his sleeves, leaned over, and scrubbed Deacon’s square head.

  “Talk to me,” Madelyn pleaded.

  “Based on the last twenty minutes you spent as a mute, I didn’t figure you were in the mood to talk.”

  She stared at him, and then at her hands. After everything, she didn’t trust him. It pried his heart open with an old-school can-opener. He couldn’t expect her to walk over hot coals for him. Not when he hadn’t promised to be there for her on the other side.

  The dagum dog flopped to the tile and rolled onto his back, directing Nathan’s scratches to his belly. Neither of them were going to make this easy. He dropped to one knee and rubbed Deacon’s belly.

  “I was assimilating to the news,” she whispered. “It’s hard to think about all the times Nichole and I were around him. We were so close to evil and we didn’t know. Never suspected.”

  Nathan centered his gaze on her crooked mouth and scrunched lips. “You mean, you believe me?”

  Madelyn’s head jerked upright. A wrinkle formed between her brows. “I trust you, Nathan. I trust your instincts, even better than I trust my own.” She tucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down. Her hands plowed through her hair. Then she scrubbed them down her arms. Once. Twice.

  Suddenly she clawed at her skin.

  “Madelyn?”

  She didn’t look. Her eyes were swollen with fear and revulsion, and locked on her arms. Nathan stepped over Deacon and crossed to her. Fat tears ran down her face. Red scratches marred her arms.

  “Stop.”

  “I let him touch me.” A serrated cry escaped her lips. And still, she clawed at her skin.

  Nathan clamped his hands around her wrists. She tensed against his hold. Her breaths blew quickly over his neck, but she didn’t weep. Her jaw set and her chest heaved.

  The thought of Tau’s hands on Madelyn made his trigger finger itch. And damned though he was, it made his cock swell with the need to make her his. He needed to erase the memories and the scent of every other man and replaced them with his own.

  “Let me touch you.” The words were so desperate they came harsh and low.

  Mascara slipped down her cheek with another tear.

  “Touch me,” she begged.

  Nathan scooped her into his arms and walked to the bathroom. He set her down, adjusted the water to a full hot stream, and then emptied his pockets…mostly. One by one, their shoes landed with a thud. He pulled back the curtain and picked up Madelyn again.

  One of her arms encircled his neck, while the other clutched the front of his shirt and his loosened tie. Nathan stepped into the claw-foot tub. Water splashed onto the burnt orange dress, coursed down her legs, and hit the floor. He sat in front of the spray and closed them in together.

  With an easy touch he turned her around to face him. He tilted her chin up. Water soaked her hair. He gathered the strands stuck to her chest and slicked them behind her shoulders.

  “Close your eyes.”

  When her lashes hit her cheek he pressed her forehead into the flow. The narrow spray trickled across her lids, over the bridge of her nose, and down her exposed neck. It pooled in her cleavage and the tightly knit fabric.

  Nathan ran his thumbs across her eyes. A muddy mix of beauty products cascaded over her face and stained his fingers. He rubbed the arch of her brows. He massaged the slope of her cheekbones and the curve of her jaw. Her lips parted and water trickled down the edge of her mouth. He repeated the process until all traces of make-up fled her face, and then pulled her face from the beating spray.

  “Open your eyes.”

  Her shadowy orbs lit on him and the emotions they projected nearly brought him to his knees. He grabbed the soap and worked lather into his hands. With firm strokes starting at her arms, Nathan washed away all traces of Adrian Tau. His fingers slipped between hers and held them as he had when they’d danced. His other hand slid up her back and he pulled her close.

  “Whose hands do you feel now?”

  “Yours.”

  “Whose hands do you want to feel?”

  “Yours.”

  The groove of her spine hugged his finger all the way to the hot-red fabric of her dress. He seized the zipper and tugged. One tooth at a time, the pull revealed a wide-strapped lacy black thong. Nathan groaned. The enticement did its job and broke his easy pace.

  He released her and stepped back.

  She tugged his tie and his head followed, collidin
g with her eager mouth. The bite of wine tumbled across his tongue. He drank it in, drank her in, and then pushed back before he lost himself completely.

  “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

  Her onyx lashes fluttered several times. She licked the bottom of her lip as if savoring him. His balls throbbed. But fuck him sideways, he wouldn’t take advantage of an intoxicated woman. Even if the sight of her intoxicated him.

  “I had enough to convince myself that this is just sex and that I’m okay with the just part.”

  His wet clothes molded to his body, defining every bump and line, and making his arousal blatant. Her gaze dropped to his crotch. Madelyn used the point of her index finger and traced up one side of his shaft, over his head, grazing just the tip, and then down the other side. He tensed to keep from pressing his cock into her hand.

  “I didn’t drink enough that I’ll regret it in the morning, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Just sex. Like our kiss was just a kiss?” he asked skeptically.

  “Just like that.”

  Which meant it was a hell of a lot more, but neither of them was willing to say as much.

  “Just like that.” He wrenched the sleeves off her shoulders and peeled the dress off her body.

  The fabric plopped to the floor of the tub, leaving only the crest of her mons hidden behind airy lace. Her dusky nipples flushed pink.

  Nathan grabbed the back of her neck to keep her steady. His other hand rasped her tight buds. He plucked and tormented them to red tips. Madelyn’s head lulled in his hand. Her breaths flew through her parted lips. He stepped closer and let his fingers follow the water down her body.

  The scrape of fingernails on fabric grated in the small confines.

  “Oh.” Madleyn’s knees buckled and she dipped.

  His knee came up. His arm clamped her back. Her sweet thighs straddled his. Nathan pulled her up, slid her down, and then jerked her up again. Shoved from her daze, Madleyn fisted his shirt. She moaned and pressed against his leg. Her hips rolled.

  He sank the fingers of his free hand into the flesh of her ass. In a brutal rhythm he helped her toward the brink.

  An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat. “Fuck me. Now. Please. I want you inside me.”

  “Come first,” he ordered.

  Her hands flew to his tie, tugging and nearly chocking him. “I want you inside me when I come.”

  “I will be. But we have all night.”

  “Now. Please don’t make me wait.”

  Fuck, shouldn’t he be the one begging to get inside her, not the other way around. And why was he arguing?

  He set her down, whipped off his tie, and went to work on his pants while she managed the buttons of his shirt. Nathan shucked his sopping shirt, dug the condom out of his pocket, and lost the pants. Madelyn launched herself at him before he was fully sheathed.

  A stupid smile split his mouth and he crushed it to her. Water poured onto their faces. He adjusted his grip on her bottom. She’d lost the panties somewhere in the frenzy.

  Her heels dug into his back. She levered herself over him. Nathan adjusted and found her hot, slick opening. Gravity and her doggedness nearly completed the act.

  “We can say this is just sex, but I won’t act like it is.” He held her the barest inch off his cock. “Look at me, Madelyn. Be with me.”

  She lifted her gaze. He lowered her onto his shaft. Deliberately. Her hands tangled in his hair. She pulled him forward and kissed him hard. Her hips rocked in small circles, stealing his sanity a little at a time.

  “Yes,” he mumbled against her mouth. “That’s it. Fuck me. Feel me. I feel you. So deep. So damn tight.”

  Her breasts jostled against his chest. Her ass cheeks slapped his balls, while her pussy stroked him higher and higher. But her eyes... Her throaty breaths... He thrust against her, pressing his hip onto her clit with every blow.

  A cry poured from her lips. His head stung from the hold she had on his hair. It pushed him on. The tempo rose. Her cry rang in a crescendo. His balls constricted and he came with her, pumping out the last of their pleasure.

  She slumped against him. Nathan stumbled back. Water slushed around his ankles. He panted. He blinked and finally realized their clothes clogged the drain.

  Gathering his wits, he turned off the water, kicked their clothes to the back of the tub, and stepped out. He wrapped a towel around Madelyn’s shoulders. When he disengaged their bodies she whimpered.

  “You won’t be rid of me for long.” He set her on the ground, cleaned himself, and then scooped her to his chest. “Nap or round two?”

  40

  Madelyn went from the most intimate experience of her life to Nichole’s funeral. Talk about highs and lows. A strange haze hung over the morning sun. It added a layer of humidity to their hell.

  Nichole’s mother, a short, generously curvaceous woman, clutched the lapel of her husband’s tan suit and sobbed uncontrollably. The woman’s weeping brown gaze centered on the pewter urn holding her daughter’s ashes. Her aunt held firm to his other arm and cried the same broken tune.

  Bless the man, but he stood tall, though the burden of grief paled his sun-leathered complexion. His gaze stabbed across the low-set marble mausoleum on which the urn sat, only to land on Jim. The hate exchange seemed a two-sided coin. Seething anger radiated off Nichole’s widow in waves. Only a small-framed Methodist preacher at the head and the large FBI agent at the foot barred an escalation on their ancestral burial ground.

  Madelyn gripped Nathan’s hand and fed from his unflappable calm. It gave her the footing she needed to ignore the contentious climate and the seas of attendants behind them. She focused on her final goodbye to her good friend. Pain lanced deep and carved out a piece of her heart. They would never again make memories together, but she could only be grateful for the ones she’d been given. In a real sense, Nichole had saved her the way she’d wanted to save her friend.

  When the ceremony concluded, Nichole’s mother leaned down and scooped the silver vessel into her arms with the same tender care of a new mother. Madelyn’s throat constricted. The woman shuffled forward as though the last week had crippled her. Madelyn had known this was coming, yet there’d been no way to prepare for it. Tears burned her eyes. She swallowed and blinked them back.

  “I didn’t agree with many of my daughter’s decisions for her life, and I don’t agree with her wishes after her death. But I respect her enough to grant her this.” She hung her head low and kissed the top of the urn. Her tears splashed onto the lid and rolled down the side. “I don’t want it back after it’s done. I have my memories. I don’t want an empty jar to remind me of my Nichole.”

  Madelyn started to speak, and then stopped. She shoved back the threatening wail. She sucked a shaky breath. Nathan released her hand and placed his hand on her nape, giving Madelyn the strength to reply. “I thought you’d come with me. Your family is welcome.”

  Nichole’s father tucked his wife under his arm. “Thank you. But the ceremony was for us. The scattering…” One fat tear fell from his eye. “I’m sorry, but we can’t.”

  “I understand,” Madleyn breathed.

  The pair handed over their daughter’s remains, and then left with the same broken gait. She held her head high and sucked back the moisture choking her. Something about Jim caught her eye. She tried to turn away, but like other tragic scenes she was caught in the pique and couldn’t look away. His handsome features drew into horrid lines of genuine grief. He had the sad, dazed eyes of a lost dog. The crowd dissipated, but he stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the spot that had held Nichole’s ashes through the ceremony, like he might never leave.

  Nathan brushed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I have a message from Pippa, the crime scene tech,” he whispered. “I know this is terrible timing, but I need to call her. Don’t let me rush you. We can stay as long as you want.”

  “I’ll drive while you talk. I need to get out of here.�
��

  Madelyn clutched the urn to her chest. Whether or not Jim had killed Nichole, he hadn’t deserved the love she’d given him. Maybe that was the thing about love. It wasn’t always neat and easy. It wasn’t always reciprocated or even appreciated, but that didn’t change the constancy of true love.

  She watched the road, the urn strapped into the back seat, and Nathan in equal measure. She may regret things in life, but loving him would never be one of them.

  “The son-of-a-bi…” Nathan’s gaze slid to the back seat. “The killer didn’t slip up and leave us anything new at the scene outside your classroom.” He tossed the phone onto his lap.

  “That’s too bad,” she said.

  Nathan looked out the window. The farther they rode the lower his shoulders slumped.

  “Bitch. Fucking bastard. Ass-hat. Piece-of-shit,” Madelyn announced.

  That swung his gaze around and earned her two high brows.

  “Nichole cussed like a long-shoreman. So, you don’t have to tone it down on account of her ashes. She’d hate to know she ruined a good man bashing.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.” A chuckled shook his frame.

  “Or maybe not.” Madelyn tapped the front of her lips with her index finger. “She’d have had us in a chapel with a preacher in no time.”

  “Like I said.” He winked. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”

  41

  Nathan held her in Lady Catherine’s cockpit. She nuzzled into him as they rocked with the gentle ocean. Minutes turned to hours. The rumble of his stomach, the cramp in his leg, and the numbness in his butt from the lack of padding on the ship’s teak bench threatened his quiet resolve. Luckily he’d been water-boarded, electrocuted, and beaten as part of an extra-special Bureau training and knew real pain. He did not say a word, just let the emotions pour out of her.

  The ashes had been scattered by the wind and current far beyond view before she emerged from the shelter of his arms. She wiped away the last of the tears on her face and let out an unexpected giggle.

  “Do you think it’s ruined,” she asked pointing at his mascara-blotted shirt.