Danni placed her palm over his heart. "Who is Nick Sirocco? How did he escape the neighborhood? And don't tell me it was all my father's influence. He saw something in you. What was it?" Her eyes appeared even darker blue, blending seamlessly into her black pupils.
Nick searched for an answer, but only found a memory he'd buried long ago. He stepped away from Danni to cross his arms and stare out the window above the sink. "I wondered that myself. When I was sixteen, before I knew Paddy, he caught me lifting a guy's wallet. He convinced the man not to file charges, but Paddy laid into me about right and wrong. I asked him then why he was wasting his time. You know what he said?"
Danni shook her head.
"He said I was the one wasting time, and that if I wanted to end up in prison, I should keep on wasting my time." Nick smiled wryly and slid his hands into his jeans pockets. "But he said if I had higher aspirations than being Bubba's girlfriend, he'd help me. And he did."
"And you climbed out, unlike a lot of kids."
Nick shrugged. "I wasn't the only one. Paul Gilsen got out, and two other guys I knew did, too."
"Did Dad help Paul, too?" Her voice sounded stiff.
Nick recalled those days when all he could think of was escaping his parents, the dealers on the corners, the gangs in the streets, and the pall of hopelessness that hung over the neighborhood. "He spent some time with Paul, but he was more Sam's project than Paddy's."
Blaring silence made him turn toward Danni. She stood rigid, her lips pressed together and her face pale. "What's wrong?"
"Sam never told me," she said, her tone cold. "Not even the night I called him after Gilsen tried to..." She wrapped her arms around herself.
Without thought, he gathered Danni close and rocked her trembling body. "Maybe he just didn't want to upset you any more than you already were."
Danni, her face pressed into his chest, didn't speak. Nick would've preferred angry or sarcastic words rather than this uncharacteristic silence.
"All this is wild speculation, Danni," he said gently, her soft tendrils tickling his lips. "Sam may not be involved in any of this, and he may have a good explanation as to why he didn't tell you about Paul back then."
Danni finally raised her head. "But—"
"It's late, and we should go to bed," he interrupted. "You can get your answers tomorrow."
She nodded and stepped back. Cold air replaced warmth, and Nick tried to ignore the sense of loss. Although he admired Danni's self-reliance, he felt an innate need to defend and shelter her. But she would never tolerate that. He could just imagine her response if he confessed his odd protective streak.
He let Gus outside one last time, and when the dog returned, she jumped onto the sofa and curled up in a corner. She stared up at Nick with liquid brown eyes.
"Uh, do you mind?" Nick asked Danni, motioning toward Gus.
"No." Danni patted the dog's head, then said in a stage whisper to her, "Just don't tell anyone. It may ruin my badass image."
Danni's disguise worked well. But hidden beneath the badass image lay a compassionate, fiery woman who believed in right and wrong, and whose passion far outweighed her cynicism.
"Your image is already ruined," he said, his voice husky.
Danni glanced at him and flushed. "I'd better lock up the house," she murmured.
Nick smiled and flicked on the light at the top of the stairs. Once she was done checking the doors and windows, he trailed her up the staircase and down the hall.
She paused in front of her bedroom door and gazed at Nick over her shoulder. "Since the person who followed us knows we're here, it might be safer to sleep in the same room."
Nick's heart skipped a beat, and it had little to do with lust. For the first time—without the aid of a nightmare or a rampant libido—she was reaching out to him. He kept his voice light, fearful that she might rescind the offer. "Same room or same bed?"
She grinned crookedly. "I suppose it wouldn't make sense for one of us to sleep on the floor when there's a perfectly good double bed." She held up a hand. "Sleep only. I'm exhausted."
"Don't worry. I'm beat, too."
She smiled with relief and gratitude.
Nick kept his back turned to Danni as he stripped down to his boxer briefs and slid between the sheets. Danni, wearing an oversized T-shirt, curled up by his side but not close enough that they touched.
Nick would've preferred lying in one another's arms, but he remained motionless. He had to allow her to decide where she was comfortable, both physically and emotionally.
However, after a few minutes, she snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.
Relieved and heartened by her trust, Nick wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "You're welcome."
Nick threw off his covers and stood before he even knew what had awakened him. Darkness surrounded him, and he glanced at the digital clock—1:03 a.m. Then Gus's barking registered, and his sleep-muddy brain cleared.
"Does she have to go out?" Danni's quiet voice reminded him where he was.
"She usually whines instead of barks."
Danni rose and slid her revolver from its holster where it lay on her nightstand. "After everything that's happened, I'm not taking any chances."
Nick blinked at the pale vision of Danni in the oversized shirt—long legs, bare feet, and holding a gun between her hands like Dirty Harry. Only Clint Eastwood never looked that sexy. "You're not dressed," he whispered.
Although he couldn't tell for certain, he thought she gave him a visual once-over.
"And you are?" she asked.
Wearing only his skivvies, he couldn't argue. Gus's barking continued, telling him they didn't have time to dress. "All right, let's go."
He began walking toward the door, but Danni's hand stopped him. "I have the gun. I go first. Behind me. Now."
Although he wanted to argue with the hardheaded woman, it was her gun, and she had been trained as a police officer. Reluctantly, he did as she ordered.
Danni cracked open the bedroom door and peered into the hallway. "Clear."
She slipped out, and Nick followed on her heels. He wasn't going to let her get away from him again.
At the top of the stairs, Nick gazed down into the living room and spotted Gus by the front door. She jumped up and down, her front paws scraping the door. Her ears were straight up.
"You sure she doesn't just have to pee?" Danni asked Nick in a low voice.
"She would've come up to get me."
They crept downstairs, and Nick moved to Gus's side. "Shhh, easy girl," he crooned. Gus stopped barking, but her body vibrated with tension.
Danni peeked through the living room curtain. "I can't see anything." She opened the curtains wider, and her lips turned downward. "Someone broke into my truck."
Two gunshots and breaking glass sent Nick diving for the carpet with an arm wrapped around Gus. His heart lodged in his throat. "Danni!"
"I'm fine," she said from her position on the floor. "You?"
"Peachy. That isn't a car backfiring this time."
"No kidding."
"I'm going to try to get to the phone and call nine-one-one." He laid a hand on Gus's back and commanded, "Stay."
As Nick inched toward the kitchen, tires screeched, and a car roared away. He looked back at Danni. "Are they gone?"
She nodded, then rose and dashed into the kitchen, mumbling something. Nick stood and fell in behind her.
"Edward, Charles, Union. Edward, Charles, Union," Danni repeated over and over.
In the kitchen, she hit the light switch, and he blinked in the sudden brightness. She fumbled in a drawer, pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "Edward, Charles, Union." She wrote "E, C, U" as she spoke.
"What's that?" he asked Danni, pointing at the slip of paper.
"The first three letters of the license plate. I caught them as he drove off."
"Did you see his face?"
Danni shook her head. "It
was too dark. We were lucky he didn't tape over his license plate." She met Nick's gaze. "I'm pretty sure it was the same car that tailed us."
Nick wasn't surprised. Instead, he was frustrated and angry. "We have to call the police."
"If the neighbors haven't called already."
Nick reached for the phone but drew back his hand when he heard distant sirens growing nearer. "Great Neighborhood Watch program."
Her lips thinned. "Too bad they weren't watching the night Dad died."
Chapter Sixteen
Danni blinked in the sunlight that slanted across her face and threw an arm over her eyes to block the bright rays. Disoriented and groggy, she tried to remember where she was.
A movement beside her startled her and brought back the memory of the evening's festivities. She barely stifled a groan. She and Nick had finally fallen back into bed at four that morning, after three hours of questioning by the police.
The crime scene unit had shown up, too. The CSIs had found two bullets—nine millimeter—lodged in the living room wall, and one shell casing outside behind the truck. They'd taken pictures of the tire marks on the street, but the photos wouldn't do any good unless the perpetrator's car was found. Not unexpectedly, there were no other fingerprints besides Danni's and Nick's on the truck.
Danni had given the investigating officer—a detective she'd known while on the force—the first three letters of the license plate. She knew it was little to go on, and Detective Rearden didn't offer any gratuitous hope. However, there was one car Danni intended to check out personally. If the plate started with the same three letters, Danni planned to do some interrogating herself.
She wondered what Nick's reaction would be if Gilsen was involved. In fact, she didn't even know how close the two men were. Before she and Nick became connected at the hip, had he socialized with Gilsen?
Nick shifted beside her, and warm breath cascaded across her neck, followed by a moist tongue. Smiling, she said quietly, "Don't get any ideas. We've got work to do."
A snuffle was her only answer.
"You can't sleep all day either," she teased. Without turning over, she reached behind her to wake her sleeping companion... and encountered a furry body.
Danni yelped and rolled away. The bedspread wrapped around her, and she dropped to the floor in an undignified mound.
"Problems?"
The familiar voice and its accompanying dry wit made her sit up so she could see over the bed—and Gus—to where Nick stood framed in the doorway. Dressed in black jeans and a white turtleneck, he held two steaming cups of coffee. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a for-women-only greeting card, except for the smirk that bedeviled his eyes and ruined the fantasy.
"When did you get up?" Danni asked irritably to cover her embarrassment.
He shrugged. "About seven-thirty. Couldn't sleep any more." He strolled to the side of the bed and perched on the mattress, then held out a cup to Danni, who still sat on the floor feeling like a badly wrapped mummy. "Want some?"
She glared at him, then wriggled around until she had both arms free, and accepted the coffee with a mumbled "thanks."
After taking a sip of the rich brew, she looked up at Nick, noting his clean-shaven jaw. His blue eyes were brighter than usual, highlighted by the white turtleneck, and his jeans were just tight enough to snap her hormones to attention.
She met his gaze and found him studying her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Here she was sitting cross-legged on the floor with bed hair and a defective toga, while Nick could've just stepped out of a GQ ad. Life just wasn't fair.
"I must've been tired. I didn't even hear you get out of bed," she said.
His humor faded. "You've been under a lot of stress."
"So have you," she said, annoyed by his patronizing tone.
A corner of his lips hitched upward. "Touché." He took a drink of coffee. "Alex Levin called this morning. He wanted to know how you were doing."
"How'd he know I was here?"
"By now everybody on the police force knows you and I are here."
The police report. Danni had forgotten how well the brotherhood-in-blue gossip mill operated in the department. A call about a late-night shooting at Paddy Hawkins's place involving his daughter and Nick Sirocco would be tempting fodder for even the most tight-lipped.
"Did he have any news?" Danni asked.
"No." He gazed down into his cup. "I wanted to ask him why he lied about not seeing Gary last night, but I figured I should wait and let you handle it."
It took a moment for Danni to switch gears. "Is he on duty today?"
"Until four."
Danni glanced at the digital clock radio on the dresser—9:55. "I didn't realize it was so late."
She handed Nick her coffee cup and pushed off the blanket. Her panties and thighs were exposed, and she quickly tugged the T-shirt down over her underwear. Her face warmed under Nick's appreciative gaze. "If you don't mind..."
"Not at all." Nick's eyes gleamed with mischief.
She shook her head in exasperation, then extended her hand. "If you're staying, make yourself useful."
Setting both coffee cups on the nightstand, Nick grasped her hand and pulled her up and toward him so she stood between his knees. He placed his hands on her hips, his fingers splaying across her lace-covered bottom. His face was level with her breasts.
The intimacy made her breath catch and her heart stammer. "I have to shower."
"I like you this way, smelling like you and me."
"And Gus," she couldn't help but add.
Nick chuckled and tilted his head back to gaze at her. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful when you fall out of bed."
Danni failed to contain the laughter that bubbled up. "You need glasses, Sirocco."
"You need a better mirror." He slid his hands up her back and behind her neck, then gently tugged her head downward.
Tumbling into his eyes, Danni brushed his lips with hers, tasting his faint minty toothpaste and smelling his fresh soap scent.
Nick broke the kiss but didn't draw away. "I wish we had more time," he whispered. "I'd show you how beautiful you are."
"With a better mirror?" Danni asked, her voice husky.
Regret tinged his smile. "You should get dressed. We have a lot to do today."
Danni had slept with her share of men, but none like Nick. Usually, her bed partner wanted a quickie before getting up, whether she was running late or not. She suspected Nick wouldn't have been averse to a morning round of lovemaking, but there was more in his eyes than simple lust. He actually cared about her.
At least for now. The attraction was a matter of proximity and inevitability. After they solved her dad's murder, Nick would leave, and the allure would fade.
Hating that her throat felt like she'd swallowed sandpaper, Danni moved out of Nick's arms. On the way out of the bedroom, she patted Gus, who was still sleeping sprawled on the bed.
Twenty minutes later, a fully clothed Danni trotted downstairs with Gus on her heels. The coffee and shower had done miracles in bringing her back to life.
"Nick?" she called out.
"In the kitchen."
Danni pushed through the swinging door, and Gus crowded through with her. The dog trotted to her food bowl and chowed down.
Danni found Nick sitting by the table, which was covered by papers and note cards. "What're you doing?"
Nick propped his elbows on the sea of papers. "Since you were still sleeping when I got up, I figured I'd work on my book proposal."
"Is this the one Dad was helping you with?"
He nodded.
Danni pulled out a chrome and vinyl chair and sat down beside him. "Can I help?"
Nick tilted his head and peered at her. "Maybe."
Frowning, she picked up a sheet of paper and read the scrawling across it. "It's a mystery?"
"Police thriller."
"What's the difference?"
"A
thriller is a more intense mystery."
She wrinkled her nose. "More blood and gore? That sort of thing?"
Nick smiled. "Not exactly. Just more edge-of-the-seat type of thing."
"Ahhh." Danni continued scanning Nick's notes. "You're using the youth center?"
"A fictional youth center where crooked cops are running a crime ring using the kids they're supposed to be helping."
Startled by the similarities of his book and her suspicions, she asked, "Was Dad the only one who knew about this?"
"He and my agent, but I only gave my agent a general idea."
Danni stared at the page, not reading any more but thinking. She suddenly recalled her dad's phone message to Nick the night he was killed. What had been his exact words?
She jumped up and ran up to her childhood bedroom where her backpack lay in a corner. Unzipping it, she rummaged around for the answering machine. Her fingers scraped plastic, and she tugged it out. She stared at it, wondering if she had the courage to hear his voice again. She'd only listened to the message once, in her office when Nick had brought it in. It seemed like months ago, instead of only days.
She dashed downstairs with the answering machine clutched to her chest.
Nick met her in the living room, his expression quizzical. "What's going on?"
"I want to listen to Dad's message again." She continued into the kitchen and set the machine on the counter, then plugged it in. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she was glad when Nick joined her. His presence gave her the courage to push the Play button.
Although she was prepared to hear her father's deep voice, it still caused her to flinch. She closed her stinging eyes as she listened to his painfully familiar voice.
"Rocky, it's Paddy. I need to talk to you. Something's going on at the youth center. I have a feeling I know what it is, but I need your help to prove it. Call me as soon as you get this message. If I don't hear from you tonight, I'll call you in the morning. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction."
Danni stabbed the Stop button. " 'Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction,'" she quoted. "What do you think he meant?"
Arouse Suspicion Page 20