Trial by Fire (Sizzling Romantic Suspense) (All Fired Up)

by Taylor Lee

  He was silent for a minute then added with a shrug, “Oh yeah, and that once I was married to Laura Chumpter.”

  When they exited the car, dozens of reporters pressed against the barriers shouting Nate’s name, trying to get his attention.

  “It’s Stryker!” “Damn, it’s Nate Stryker.” “Hey Nate, come and talk to us?” “Are you heading up the investigation?” “Won’t that be hard with Laura?” “Who did it, Detective?” “Is it true they cut him up?” “Was Laura there when it happened?” “Look over here, Nate!” Come and talk to the cameras!”

  Nate huffed an annoyed sigh and dropped his sunglasses over his eyes as the cameras flashed behind them. Sam stared at him and then at Dan.

  “Jesus, bro, you weren’t kidding were you? Hell, Nate, I might never go back to L.A. We never have this much fun. How about I start out in traffic? Anything to work my way up to strolling in with the—what did Dan call you? The ‘Big Guy’?”

  Nate growled in annoyance. “Depends on what you call fun, hotshot. Me? I’d rather have a root canal without Novocain than deal with these yahoos. And that doesn’t begin to describe how I feel about the upcoming interview with Mrs. Peterson.”

  Sam quickly moved up next to him. “Nate, I apologize. That was a tasteless remark. I can only imagine how difficult this will be.”

  Nate snorted. “You haven’t got that good an imagination, hotshot. Whatever you are envisioning, you can trust Laura to top it.”

  ~~~

  A frazzled uniformed policeman met them at the door.

  “I’m sorry, Nate, but Laura, I mean Mrs. Peterson, insists that she isn’t able to come out of her bedroom, even to meet with you. Says she’s still too weak.”

  “She did know that I was coming, correct, Matt?”

  The young officer flushed.

  “Yes, she did. We told her several hours ago and Charlie, Detective Hanson, reminded her thirty minutes ago. But… well, just so you know, she wasn’t dressed the last time I went to the door.” Matt added without enthusiasm, “If you want me to, I will tell her that you are here and that she needs to come down.” He flushed, “Although, I’m not sure that will make a difference. She hasn’t been receptive to any of our requests. And she refused to answer any questions that the preliminary team had for her. Says that she is too tired and that we will have to wait until she feels better. I don’t know if she will see you, Detective….”

  Nate allowed a glimmer of a smile to cross his face.

  “She’ll see me Matt. In the dining room, at the table. Please have the transcription clerk set up her equipment.”

  Pointing to the ornately carved staircase, he nodded to Sam and Dan.

  “You can come with me if you wish to get our reluctant witness.” His lip quirked. “I suggest you do, Sam. Some sights you don’t want to miss.”

  Sam raised a questioning brow but fell into place as Nate trotted up the stairs.

  Seeing Sam’s eyes widen at the sight of the multi colored tile, faux marble columns, and twelve foot wide chandelier in the entry way, Nate stifled a grin. He couldn’t wait until the understated man saw Laura’s bedroom. Guess there were some perks to having Sam on board after all. Having Dudley Do-Right as a shadow might provide some much-needed humor. As if he knew what Sam was thinking, he offered some additional facts to underscore what they were dealing with.

  “In case you didn’t bring your calculator, Mike put thirteen varieties of wood in this place. Guess he couldn’t make up his mind. Or wanted to show his customers what they could do if they had more money than God.”

  He ambled up the staircase and ushered Dan and Sam into Laura’s bedroom. Sam’s gasp was worth price of admission. In the daylight, the room was even more garish. Sam’s astonished reaction was reflected in the floor to ceiling mirrors. Nate winked at Dan when Sam’s eyes landed on the 12x12 foot mirror under the pink and white canopy on Laura’s massive bed. Dan’s responding nod indicated he was enjoying their colleague’s amazement as much as Nate had enjoyed his the night before.

  Sam’s eyes widened more if possible when he saw Laura. She was stretched out on the pink velvet lounger where she’d been last night. She was dressed—if you could call it that—in a

  gold lame halter and matching boy shorts. When she saw them and rose to her feet, her shimmery transparent robe fell open. Nate couldn’t help but notice that her magnificent breasts, barely contained by the halter, seemed larger than he remembered. Knowing her penchant for plastic surgery, leave it to Laura to make a great thing even better—or at least bigger. Her abbreviated shorts were cut high on her buttocks, showing off the first class ass that had once made him drool at the mere thought. Instead he was struck by how inappropriate she looked. The robe was a measly attempt at providing a cover to her “outfit” but if anything the shiny transparent fabric just made the body beneath more enticing. Nate was surprised and gratified that rather than interest, his overriding response was disgust.

  As she had the night before, Laura cried out when she saw him. Flipping her carefully coiffed long blond hair over one shoulder in a curtain of gold down her back, she rushed toward him. Before Nate could stop her, Laura threw her arms round him. Pressing her lush body against him, she literally rubbed up against his groin. Nate sent an emergency message to his dick that it wouldn’t live to see the sun rise if it so much as twitched in interest. Fortunately for the moment, his unruly prick seemed to get the message and lay dormant.

  “Oh Nate, thank God you are here! I need you so much.” A sob shook her as a single tear trickled down her cheek. Giving a soft moan she murmured, “Just the thought of poor Mike on that hideous cross…”

  Laura clung to him, burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder. He reached up and unwound her hands from around his neck and stepped away from her, putting several feet between them.

  Surprise marked her lovely face and for an instant Nate saw anger flash in her eyes. In seconds, she recovered and stood trembling before him, the picture of a vulnerable, helpless woman. She must have seen the disgust in his eyes, because she crossed her arms in front of her as if to cover her near nakedness. However, the way she positioned her arms only served to nudge her breasts further out of the useless scrap of material.

  She even managed to blush as she gazed up at him. “Oh Nate, I wish I’d known you were coming. I… I would have dressed… I’ve been so exhausted. It seems like the smallest things wear me out. Ask Margaret, she’ll tell you. I was barely able to get from my bed to this lounger.”

  Nate exchanged a glance with Margaret Johnston, the nursing assistant Dr. James had arranged to stay with Laura. The stout woman had parked herself against the far wall, away from the mirrors. She managed a noncommittal shrug before focusing her gaze firmly on the floor.

  Knowing that Laura had spent a minimum of two hours preparing for their arrival, Nate didn’t bother to respond to her blatant lie. He merely nodded and replied, “We’ll wait while you get dressed. I need to ask you a number of questions about last night. Unfortunately they can’t wait.”

  She stammered, “No… no, I don’t think I have the energy to dress. If you don’t mind interviewing me in my pajamas…”

  Nate kept his irritation at bay, surprised by his reaction to her. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time. Was she always this transparent? Always this blatantly deceptive? Pricked by an uncomfortable flash of self-awareness, he knew she was. He’d never acknowledged it, not wanting to face what it said about him. Just like he never acknowledged or told anyone about her increasingly frequent calls. In the three years since he’d returned from Afghanistan, he’d only run into her a few times. He’d greeted her with a nod at the most and turned away. She always pressed for more, but he resisted, beating a hasty retreat. In the last year or so, she began calling him, leaving suggestive messages on his voice mail. The calls came more frequently after Erin moved in with him. In each message she proposed that they “get together for old time’s sake.” The calls
often came late at night. In a breathy voice she alluded to erotic things they’d done with the unspoken promise that more good times could be had if only he would stop avoiding her. Studying her now Nate was appalled that he’d ever been taken in by such a patently false woman. Damn, nothing like the comparison to a woman like Erin, to underscore just how shallow Laura was. Beautiful? Yes. An incredible body? For sure. Appealing? Hell, no!

  He knew Laura wasn’t stupid. She’d spent a lifetime wrapping men around her finger, and the rest of her. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, she’d gotten his “get lost” messages and knew that he wasn’t available. But he knew Laura believed that once a man had tasted her impressive wares, the poor sap couldn’t stay away from her for long. Nate took pride in the fact that he might be the sole exception to that rule. Tugging her puffy lips into a sexy pout, Laura glanced down as if marshaling her forces. When she looked up at him, the determination in her eyes told him told him she hadn’t given up. The tingly signals streaking up the back of his neck warned him. No one should underestimate Laura. Especially someone who knew her as well as Nate did.

  His voice was curt, professional.

  “Your choice, Laura. We’ll wait for you in the dining room.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “Please be there in five minutes. Or if you prefer, we can interview you at the station.”

  When he got to the door, he said over his shoulder, “Oh, and Laura, put on some clothes.”

  Ignoring her surprised gasp, Nate motioned to Sam and Dan to follow him. Without a backward glance at the woman who was glaring at him in the multiple reflections, he sauntered through the doorway and headed downstairs.

  Chapter 9

  “Wow, Nate. You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  Sam waited until they were alone, then faced Nate, not hiding his amazement.

  Nate shrugged. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work all right.”

  Seeing the puzzled look on Sam’s face, he snapped, “What’s that look about, Sam? Surely in the rarified circles you run in, you’ve seen a prima donna or two.”

  “Yes, I have, Nate. Although she is even more flagrant than most. Even in L.A., the land of the beautiful people, I’ve rarely seen a woman who looks like Laura or who flaunts it so brazenly.”

  Sam hesitated, then with a quick glance at Dan then back to Nate, he added, “What you didn’t tell me was that she is still in love with you.”

  Nate shook his head in disgust. “I didn’t tell you that, hotshot, because it isn’t true. Moreover, by adding the word ‘still’ you imply that she was in love with me. Not so. Laura loves one person and one person only. That is herself. What she can’t handle is that I don’t give a flying fuck about her. For better or worse, that makes me something of a challenge.”

  Nate turned to greet the young woman hesitating in the doorway carrying transcription equipment. She was Maggie Burk, one of their chief court reporters.

  “Go ahead and set up at the end of the table, Maggie. I want this recorded, as well as transcribed.”

  Maggie replied, “Sure thing, Nate. But I should warn you, this is the third time I’ve set up the equipment. The first two times she refused to answer any questions.”

  “Guess the third time is a charm, huh, Maggie?” Nate added with a wink, “And that I’m here.”

  Maggie showered him with an admiring glance. Blushing she added, “I guess you’re right, Nate, if anyone can get her to talk it’s you.”

  Nate smiled at the young women, whose blush brightened.

  The sound of high heels clicking on the tiled floor, confirmed that Laura was on her way.

  Nate shrugged, “It appears that the illusive Mrs. Peterson has deigned to join us after all.”

  He stepped forward as Laura entered. Ignoring the annoyed look on her face, he pulled out a chair and motioned to her to sit. He offered the chair next to Laura’s to Margaret Johnston, but the solemn woman shook her head and stood back as if moving out of the line of fire. Nate could only imagine what her morning had been like. Laura was the definition of high maintenance. Margaret Johnston was going to earn her pay and then some.

  Laura had taken Nate up on his challenge to get dressed. Not that what she chose was an improvement in the modesty department. Her leopard skin jumpsuit had to have been sprayed on. It emphasized every curve and swell on her long legged cover girl body. Nate mused, you had to wonder how she got in and out of that thing, but knowing Laura there were a row of tantalizing snaps from the plunging neckline line to the butt. When she turned, he saw the zipper up the back and he huffed an ironic sigh. The woman hadn’t changed in all these years. Everything she had was up for the taking. If the guy she was enticing had the required cahones to do the taking, that is.

  “Please sit down, Laura. I believe you know Maggie Burk, and of course, Dan Coulter. You haven’t met Sam Carter, who is a visiting officer from L.A. Sam is spending a couple of months here seeing how the rest of the world runs a police force.”

  He nodded to Sam. “Sam, this is Laura Peterson, who as you know lost her husband last night in a hideous crime.”

  Laura focused on the tall black man for the first time. Nate wasn’t surprised that her expression spiked with interest. Sam was a man after all. And a hell of a good-looking one at that. Nate squashed down his disgust at her open perusal. God, she was transparent. Give the guy a decent body and handsome face and Laura was all over it. But a dick was a dick, and hell most guys had them. Nate knew what really drew Laura’s attention was Sam’s expensive garb. Although he rarely ventured out of his trademark black t-shirt and worn jeans, Nate wasn’t unacquainted with finer accoutrements. His four hundred dollar Oakley’s and six hundred dollar Hammacher were tipoffs. Add to that his new black and silver Turbo 911 and the fact that his ‘cabin’ was a work of art, testified to the fact that Nate appreciated toys as much as the next guy. He just eschewed fancy clothing, preferring comfort above all else. Plus he enjoyed the shock on the unsuspecting perp’s face when he learned that the guy in the t shirt was the big dog—the feared Detective Nate Stryker.

  If Nate thought he recognized the make and model of Sam’s GQ garb, it was a sure thing that Laura did. Her mind was a virtual calculator. She’d know in less than fifteen seconds precisely how much Sam’s tailored slacks, open collared silk shirt, casual jacket, polished shoes and Rolex watch cost. While Nate could make a pretty accurate guess, Laura would know to the penny what it took Sam to dress the way he did. Her simpering smile confirmed that Sam had passed the measure marker—the confirmation that he was tall enough to ride this ride. Given the five thousand dollars on Sam’s back and his Hollywood good looks, Nate thought with a hopeful snort, Laura might leave him alone and focus on the black guy. Nate quickly disabused himself of that unlikely notion. Laura had never let faithfulness stand in her way. As he had learned first-hand, even when she was married, her motto was: ‘the more the better.’

  At Nate’s signal, Dan began the questioning. He documented the usual statistics. Name, age, address etc.. Nate looked down to hide his grin when Laura shaved five years off her age. Guess multiple thousands of dollars of plastic surgery allowed her to lose years as she aged instead of gaining them.

  When Dan finished with the preliminary questions, the only sound for several minutes was the click clack of Maggie’s fingers hitting the keys.

  “Where were you last night, Laura?”

  Laura’s head shot up at Nate’s abrupt question. Color flooded her cheeks and for a short moment, she looked confused.

  “I… I don’t know… what do you mean, Nate? I was out, and then I came back—”

  “Out where?”

  Nate’s voice was low, casual, but the inherent command crackled through the room. Everyone at the table sat up straighter. Laura’s flush deepened.

  “I don’t know what you are asking, Nate. And I don’t know why you are behaving like this, so abrupt, treating me like….”

  Nate broke in. “It’s a simple question, Laura. Answer it, ple
ase.”

  Nate watched Laura’s eyes dart from side to side, the tell-tale sign that she was debating on how to answer the question. In a predictable play for time, she answered his question with a question.

  “Do you mean before I came home and… and… found Mike?”

  Nate gave her a nonchalant shrug as though that answer would be as good as any.

  Laura took a visible breath then tipped her chin up in the air.

  “I was with a friend.”

  Nate held her gaze, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “Name?”

  Laura flushed. The scarlet splotches on her cheeks clashed with her carefully applied makeup. A spark of anger flashed in her eyes.

  “I don’t understand why you are acting like this, Nate. As if you don’t know me.” Laura’s lips tightened threateningly. “The way you are treating me—interrogating me—makes me wonder if I should have my attorney present.”

  Nate allowed himself an ironic grin and then studied her through narrowed eyes.

  “It’s because I do know you, Laura, that I am ‘acting’ like this. But to clarify, I am treating you like the best and only witness we have at this point. At least for now, you are the only person who can help us find the cruel sons of bitches who hung your husband on a cross, whipped him for what looks like hours and then dismembered him—allowing him to bleed to death. And in the ultimate cruelty kept him conscious throughout the hours long torture.”

  When Laura blanched at the detailed description of Mike’s murder, Nate added indifferently, “As for having your attorney present, that isn’t a bad idea.”

  Laura startled. “What? Are you telling me that I… that I need a lawyer?”

  Nate shrugged. “Your choice, Laura.”

  A range of emotions crossed Laura’s face. Anger won out. She sputtered, “Damn you, Nate. What are you saying? That I am a suspect? How dare you imply that I might have had something to do… to do with Mike’s horrible….You… you—”

  Her voice rose sharply. Then as if a drama coach had stepped in and called for a different affect, her angry guise visibly crumbled. Her lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to speak.