“When they were living we were close,” he said.
“Oh, I . . .”
“They’ve been gone for ten years now.”
“Wow,” she whispered, thinking how devastated she’d be if she lost her entire family. This man was all alone in the world. Was that why he took his job so seriously?
“What’s that look?” he asked when he caught her pensive glance.
“Nothing.” Zoe stretched her arms above her head. “This kind of explains a lot about you.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re so focused on work and doing things by the book. I guess it makes sense now.”
Carver shrugged. “Minored in psychology?”
They rose to their feet as the boarding announcement blared across the speakers. Zoe was happy for the brief distraction because sitting across from Carver and looking into his eyes was getting to her in the most delicate way.
“Whatever. Do you ever think of starting your own family?”
“Haven’t in a long time. I always wanted a couple of boys.”
“I hope, when the time comes, you have a houseful of girls.”
Carver gave her a slow side glance as they boarded the plane and took their seats. “Houseful of girls, huh? With eyes the color of yours?”
She tapped his thigh. “Keep dreaming.”
“As long as you do,” he replied. Before she could reply, the captain began his announcement about the flight time and weather. Zoe fastened her seat belt and looked out the window. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she felt Carver’s fingers close around hers.
* * *
A houseful of girls? Why am I letting this woman get inside my head about a fantasy life that will never happen? Carver thought as he held her hand. He needed to keep her safe and had to push his desire away. But Zoe was so damned beautiful. Infuriating, but sexy. And as much as he tried to say that she was the one who couldn’t get over their tryst years ago, he obviously couldn’t. And being this close to her was making him dizzy with need.
Why am I holding her hand? he thought, but didn’t let go. He even brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
Zoe turned and looked at him. “What was that all about?”
“Good luck before the flight,” he said.
“You’re a mess,” she said, then unfurled her hand from his.
Carver reached into his briefcase and pulled out a magazine. While he pretended to read, he thought about what they needed to do once the plane reached New Mexico. Yes, Jessica had been in New Mexico, but he wasn’t sure where he and Zoe should begin their investigation.
Once the plane got airborne and Zoe went to sleep, he’d Google some hot spots in Santa Fe and plant the seeds of where they needed to look. He also needed to figure out the next city they should go to. But he needed to talk to Smallwood and see if there had been any more threats against Zoe from Singletary. Hopefully that bastard would be behind bars and Zoe would be safe.
“What are you reading?” Zoe asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Sports Illustrated, just something to pass the time. Thought you were sleeping.”
She shrugged. “Usually I would be, but I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“What kind of investigator would I be if I didn’t have questions?”
“Shoot.”
“Who was the last person to talk to Jessica before she disappeared?” she asked as she shifted in her seat.
“Her mother. According to the interview, Jessica came to Santa Fe with some friends, hoping to meet some famous author who lives there. She came with some girls from the University of Virginia.”
“How long was she in Santa Fe?”
“At least a week. And during the same time, we think the Bayou Killer was here.”
“Do you know anything about her friends? How did they escape the killer and Jessica didn’t?”
“That’s a question that we haven’t been able to answer. Maybe the killer stalked her.”
“Do you think he killed her before he went back to Virginia, and buried her body in the desert out there?”
“I’m going to check with my contact in the field office and find out if there have been any bodies uncovered in Santa Fe,” Carver said. “As soon as we land, though.”
“I know this is a long shot, but what if she ran off with a boyfriend and they’ve been living off the grid?”
Carver rolled his eyes. “All of these years?”
Zoe ran her fingers through her hair and shrugged. “You’ve never done anything crazy when you were a college student? This is why I’d like to talk to her family. What was their relationship like? Maybe they didn’t like the boyfriend and she didn’t want to give him up.”
“I was young once. Ran off with a girl for two weeks, and my father was livid,” Carver said, telling her the truth for the first time. “I was a sophomore at Howard and she was one of those Woo-Woos from Virginia State.”
“Do I want to hear the rest of this story, and what is a woo-woo?”
“That’s what they call their cheerleaders because when they walk by, everyone says woo-woo,” he said with a chuckle. “I met her at homecoming and we clicked.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. Why in the world was his story making her jealous? She hadn’t even known him back then, and she didn’t want him now. At least that’s the lie she’d been telling herself for the last twenty-four hours. But if Miss Woo-Woo got two weeks with him, then why couldn’t she?
What in the hell is wrong with you? Zoe thought as she turned her attention back to Carver’s story.
“When my dad got the credit card bill with the charges from Virginia Beach, he drove to DC and packed my stuff while I was gone, withdrew me from school, and gave me a choice: Army or Marines.”
“What did you choose?” Zoe asked.
He tilted his head to the side and raised his right eyebrow. “You don’t remember that tattoo on my arm?”
Zoe pursed her lips. “Can you stop acting like you’re so unforgettable?”
“I’m a Marine. Semper fi, baby.”
She eased back in her seat and crossed her legs tightly to ease the thumping between her thighs. Here she’d thought all this time that Carver was a suit with an attitude, and he was a Marine. America’s first line of defense. Zoe loved Fleet Week when she was growing up, although her father and Zach made it nearly impossible for her to enjoy herself or meet a young Marine. She almost laughed out loud when she thought about the time that Zach actually locked her in the basement when she’d told him about the date she had with a guy she’d met while she was in Midtown.
“What’s funny?” Carver asked when he caught her smile.
“When I was younger, I loved Fleet Week, much to the dismay of my father and brother. Zach even locked me in the basement once to keep me from going out with this Marine I’d met when my friend Lola and I had hung out in Midtown instead of going to school that day.”
“It was probably a good thing he did that,” Carver said. “I know what I wanted during my first Fleet Week.” He gave Zoe a slow and lingering glance. “And I can only imagine what—”
“Everyone wasn’t a horny dog like you back then.” She giggled.
“Yeah, Zach did the right thing, and if you were my sister, you’d still be in that basement,” Carver quipped.
“Sometimes he wishes the same thing. Like I would’ve ever let that happen.”
Carver was about to say something when the plane hit a pocket of turbulence and Zoe gripped his arm like a vise. “You okay?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a beat, she released his arm. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I really hate flying.”
“I see.” Carver pulled her closer and brushed his lips against her forehead. “But I got you.”
Zoe rested her head on his chest and went to sleep. She hoped when the plane landed she could recover from her moment of weakness.
Chapter 6
Carver watched Zoe sleep and couldn’t help but wonder what else she was hiding under that hardcore exterior other than a fear of flying. Stroking her arm, he thought about that night after he’d helped her get into Campos’s basement.
“Watch the door,” she whispered as she moved around the basement like she’d been there before. Carver wanted to watch something else: her shapely backside. This woman had some spunk and a body that wouldn’t quit. But was she really a private investigator, just looking for lost money for Campos’s wife, or was she part of the terrorist organization that Campos was linked to? Maybe she’d been a Mata Hari, here to get information that the heads of the Middle Eastern group could use to keep Campos under control. One thing Carver had learned from being his pretend bodyguard was that the man had very little self-control. And if he was keeping secrets from the terrorists, especially when it came to their money, a divorce lawyer would be the least of his worries.
When she wasn’t paying attention, Carver had snapped a picture of the woman and texted it to headquarters for an identification. Just as she booted the computer, he got a text message.
Zoe Harrington. Former NYPD beat cop in the Bronx. Active PI license in NY, NJ, NC, VA, DC, GA, SC. Pending nationwide application. No warrants, no ties to terrorism groups.
This was good news, Carver surmised as he watched her punch in an access code. Mrs. Campos had armed her like a divorce assassin. What else did she know? Carver wasn’t going to let this woman out of his sight until he found out.
“I’m done,” she said. “Thanks a lot.” Her smile made him hard, and as much as he wanted to blame it on the alcohol, he’d only had one glass of champagne all night.
“So, you’re done, and now what?”
“I’m out of here, unless there is a reason for me to stay.”
Carver smiled. “I can think of a couple,” he said.
“Oh, X. I bet you can, but . . .”
Carver pulled her into his arms and kissed her slow and deep, cupping the ass he’d been ogling all night, and it was soft and tight. Part of him thought she’d slap him, kick him in the family jewels and sprint out of there, but she melted against him. Their tongues danced and her moans were the music that turned his body into a raging inferno.
Pulling back from her, Carver smiled. “Come on, let’s go.”
“There’s a door to the left that leads to the street. That was going to be my escape route.”
“Mrs. Campos was serious about getting her money, huh?”
“Why shouldn’t she be? That vile man wants to leave her broke and their kids without a pot to piss in. Is that fair?”
“What else did she tell you?”
Zoe raised her eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking?”
“Just curious.”
She opened the door and took off running. Carver followed her and watched her mount a motorcycle. Before she cranked it up, he hopped on the back.
“Trying to ditch me?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s not that easy.”
“And if you’re trying to kill me, it’s not going to be easy either,” she said. She started the engine and took off, then took a sharp turn as if she was trying to toss him off the back of the bike. Carver held on tighter.
“I don’t want to kill you, I’m on the job.”
She slowed the bike. “What?”
“Campos is under investigation and I want to make sure you don’t know something that might get you killed,” he said.
She turned down an abandoned alleyway and stopped the bike. Hopping off, she looked at him with questions dancing in her dazzling eyes. “What are you, DEA? Police?”
“I can’t say, but know that I don’t mean you any harm. And I don’t think you should be riding this thing, considering the alcohol you had at the party.” He climbed off the bike and crossed over to her.
“So, I’m supposed to turn it over to you, secret agent man?” She rolled her eyes, but Carver thought that was exactly what she should’ve done.
“We’re going to the same place, so it will be fine,” he said as he hopped on the bike as if it were his own. Zoe followed his lead and got on the bike. Carver couldn’t help but like the way her arms felt around him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain’s voice said over the intercom, breaking into Carver’s thoughts. “We’re running into a bit more turbulence, and for your safety, please bring your seats to the upright position and buckle your seat belts.”
“Zoe,” he said as he tapped her shoulder. “Sit up, babe.”
Her eyes fluttered open just as the plane jostled through another pocket of turbulence. “Shit,” she muttered. “Are we crashing?”
“No, more turbulence. Put your seat up and buckle up.”
“How much longer do we have?” she asked as she snapped the buckle in place. “I swear this seems like the longest flight in history.”
“Can’t tell from your snoring,” he quipped.
Zoe’s eyebrow shot up in disgust. “I don’t snore, thank you very much.”
Carver stroked her arm. “We should be landing soon, and you can continue to believe you didn’t keep every other passenger within earshot from catching a nap themselves.”
Zoe looked around as if she expected to see angry faces staring back at her. When she didn’t, she hauled off and punched Carver in the arm. “You really make me sick.”
“I’m sure I do,” he said as he pinched her cheek. “Buttercup.”
Zoe rolled her eyes and then grabbed his hand as the plane passed through another pocket of turbulence. “I hate flying, I hate flying,” she muttered.
Carver kissed her forehead. “It’s all right.”
And a few minutes later, everything was just fine as the captain announced that they’d entered calmer air and would be landing in New Mexico in about forty-five minutes.
“Thank God,” Zoe said.
“You need a drink,” Carver said.
“I don’t drink on the job anymore,” she said, then rolled her eyes.
When the flight attendant stopped at their seats, Carver got himself a rum and cola. “I’m not on the job, so I’m drinking.”
Glancing at Carver’s drink, Zoe opted for cranberry juice, though vodka would’ve calmed her nerves considerably.
For the next few minutes, Carver tried to log on to the airplane’s Wi-Fi to see if there was an update on Singletary. It would’ve been ideal for him to find out that the son of a bitch had been arrested and he could tell Zoe that the FBI had called off the search for Jessica’s body. He hated lying to her, because if the truth came out she wouldn’t forgive him at all.
By the time he’d been able to get his tablet connected, the captain made the announcement to turn off electronic equipment, as they were about to make their landing.
“Great,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong? Can’t log on to Facebook and find your Jeffrey Osborne girl?”
“My what?”
“The woo-woo-woo girl.”
“Seriously? You were dreaming about that, huh? My tastes have changed since then. I need a woman who can handle a gun and motorcycle.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck, I know where to find her,” he said. Glancing at her, he saw a smile creep across her lips. She knew who he was talking about, and that’s all he wanted.
After the plane landed, Zoe was one of the first people on her feet, stretching and arching her back in Carver’s face. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to touch her tantalizing backside.
“So happy to be on the ground,” she said as she reached into the overhead compartment to grab her carry-on bag.
“We still have a journey,” he said as he rose to his feet. “There’s a short flight from here to Santa Fe or we can—”
“Take the Rail Runner, we are definitely taking the Rail Runner.”
“Good idea. Though I know you’re just being a big baby about flying again.”
/>
“And? Let me work and you just follow my lead.”
Carver gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
They filed off the plane with the other passengers and headed for the shuttle that would take them to the famed train. Carver noticed that Zoe moved through the airport as if she were Usain Bolt. He nearly had to run to keep up with her. The time change, coupled with his overnight surveillance of Zoe, was taking a toll on his body. He couldn’t tell her that, though. Finally, they made it to the shuttle.
“You’re getting soft, G-man,” she said as they took their seats on the bus.
“What are you talking about?” Carver asked after catching his breath.
“All of that huffing and puffing. How are you going to catch a terrorist when I can outrun you?”
“Don’t worry, I have my ways. And keep in mind, I caught you before.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Here we go, reliving the past again. Let’s agree to let it go.”
“Sure,” he said, though he had no intention of doing so. If he had his druthers, they’d relive that night.
* * *
Carver’s presence and his body heat made it impossible for Zoe to think of anything but getting naked with him as they rode the shuttle to downtown Albuquerque. Since the shuttle was crowded with tourists, they had to sit a little closer than what she was comfortable with. When his thigh touched hers, waves of desire tingled her spine. She inhaled sharply and then pulled out her cell phone, pretending to look for something in order to take her mind off Carver’s touch, the thought of his kiss, and seeing him naked.
“Was Jessica ever reported missing to the local police?” Zoe asked, trying to think of something other than Carver’s naked body.
“The local police weren’t very helpful when we were investigating her disappearance. The police didn’t want or appreciate our help.”
Zoe snorted. “I bet you guys came in like the gestapo, like you always do.”
“Make up your mind. Do you want us to do our job, or is the beat cop inside of you still mad about jurisdictions and whatnot?”
She rolled her eyes, thinking about the one time she was involved in a case that the Feds were also interested in. The agents who had been working on the case acted as if they were the only people who knew how to investigate a crime.
Deadly Rumors Page 5