Laredo spread his hands. As far as he knew, the verdict was still out on that. It could just be one person, enamored with a certain method, seeking revenge against a couple of people.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Chet snorted. Some of the tension left his shoulders. “Just like your father. Double-talk. Talk straight, Johnny,” he ordered. “If the M.O. is the same for both murders, why wouldn’t you think it was the work of a serial killer?”
“Because the two victims had a connection.”
A familiar, keen look entered his grandfather’s blue eyes. Laredo knew that his grandfather absorbed every word, every nuance and that his mind was factoring it all in.
“A connection? What was it?” Chet prodded.
“Seems that the dead teacher got Eileen Stevens pregnant when they were both in high school.”
Chet whistled softly to himself. “Damn, life certainly has a way of surprising you.”
The observation had Laredo’s thoughts immediately shifting to Taylor. There was no denying that he’d surprised himself when he had kissed her. He’d been even more surprised by his reaction to that simplest of intimate acts. The woman had damn near curled his toes and that didn’t happen easily. Or often. Laredo wasn’t altogether certain he liked that.
“Yeah, it does.”
Chet watched him for a long moment, as if plucking thoughts out of his grandson’s head. “You’re not talking about the case, are you?”
“Sure I am, Chet.” Laredo’s tone was deliberately light. “You know, Carole Stevens isn’t a bad-looking lady.”
“No, she’s not,” Chet wholeheartedly agreed, allowing Laredo to change the topic.
Laredo had never known his grandmother, other than through photographs. Michelle Laredo had died before he was born. His grandfather could stand a little female companionship in his later years.
“Maybe you could offer her a shoulder to lean on,” Laredo suggested.
“Been thinking about it,” his grandfather admitted, nodding his head.
“Maybe you should do more than just think,” Laredo coaxed.
Chet laughed. It was a rounded, full-bodied sound. “Since when have you decided to play Cupid?” Chet asked. “Seems to me that I haven’t seen a lady on your arm for way too long.”
Laredo grinned. “I’ve been busy. Besides, I wouldn’t bring them around where an old fox like you could steal them away from me.”
Chet doubted that anyone could steal the woman his grandson set his mind to.
“Steal them?” Chet echoed. “Hell, I’d be too happy to see you finally settling down to do anything except hit my knees and give up a prayer of thanksgiving.” He eyed Laredo “That going to be happening anytime soon?” his grandfather asked.
“Hitting your knees and praying?” Laredo asked innocently. “I’d say that was entirely up to you, Chet.” He took pity on the man and added, “As for the other part, I’ll get back to you on that.”
“You do that, Johnny.” The subject, he knew, was closed. For now. Chet rose to his feet. “I was just going to sit down and have some dinner. Join me?”
“I already ate. But I can keep you company,” Laredo offered.
Chet smiled and slipped an arm around his grandson’s shoulders as they both walked into the kitchen. “I’d like that.”
Taylor usually slept like a rock. The minute her head hit the pillow, she was out. Zach had once speculated that she could probably fall asleep hanging from a hook in the closet. When she was tired, nothing got in the way of her getting a good night’s sleep.
Nothing but the unnerving memory of J. C. Laredo’s mouth and the magic it effortlessly wove as it passed over her own.
When she went to bed, Taylor was exhausted, but it didn’t matter. Sleep had gone off on a holiday without any warning or forwarding address, leaving her tossing and turning. Every fiber of her being insisted on reliving those few moments in front of the restaurant, when time and the world had stood still and someone had turned up an inferno.
Questions popped up in her head. Questions that would never receive any answers because there was no scenario that would lead to her making love with the tall, sexy private investigator. God knew that she was not about to feed Laredo’s ego or blunder into a situation she had no experience with.
There’d never been a man in her life she’d even remotely wanted to plan a future with, or even make love with. And Laredo would probably recoil in horror if he knew she was a virgin.
Besides, she was certain that the longing she felt would bring nothing but disappointment because, in her experience, her imagination was far more satisfying than anything reality had to offer. Turning on her side again, Taylor punched her pillow, vainly trying to find a soothing, comfortable place for herself. There just wasn’t any to be found tonight.
Damn the man and his lethal mouth anyway.
She needed all her faculties in top running order, not feeling as if she’d been used to wipe the floor. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, she would be a zombie come morning.
Another hour passed and she was still doing a human imitation of a spinning top. Desperate, Taylor got up and went to her medicine cabinet. A couple minutes of rummaging around and she found what she was looking for. It was one of those nighttime headache remedies that tacked the letters P.M. to the end of its brand name. She’d picked it up in the store a couple of months ago by mistake, then decided there was no harm in keeping the pills until their expiration date came up. “Just in case.”
“Just in case” had arrived.
Resigned, Taylor popped one pill into her mouth, swallowing it without water, an ability that always made her sister shiver when she saw her do it. Hoping that would do the trick, Taylor went back to bed.
Lying down, she willed the over-the-counter medication to work.
Taylor had no idea what time she dropped off to sleep. All she knew was that when she finally woke up, early sunlight was shining into her bedroom and she felt as if someone had run her over with a double-coupled semi. Twice.
She was also running late. She should have already been at work, not getting ready for it.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
Bolting out of bed, Taylor hurried into her shower. She was about to turn on the water when she looked down and saw that she was still wearing the jersey she used as a nightgown. Talk about being out of it. No more sleep remedies for her.
“Get with it, McIntyre,” she ordered sternly.
Peeling off the jersey, Taylor hurled it onto the floor outside the shower. She turned the cold water on and let it blast her in an effort to get into gear. But she hadn’t counted on it to rival the temperature of ice cubes.
A screech sounding not unlike a tortured cat escaped her lips as she quickly grasped the faucet and moved it toward a less-than-subzero setting.
She was just beginning to breathe normally again when she thought she heard a door banging open.
Her door?
Before the thought could actually register, Taylor saw the outline of someone through the frosted glass.
Someone who was running into her bathroom.
The only weapon that was available was the long-handled scrub brush. Better than nothing. She grabbed it just as the shower door was being yanked open.
Outrage flooded through her when she saw who it was.
Laredo!
“Are you all right?”
The question, begun in concern, drifted away as the sight of her imprinted itself on his brain. Belatedly, he jerked his eyes back up to her face.
Embarrassed, furious, words failed her. Taylor grabbed the shower door and pulled it out of Laredo’s hand, slamming it so hard it popped open again. She bit off a curse as she closed it a second time.
He’d gone too far this time, she thought, outraged.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered.
She heard him answer his own question before he addressed hers.
“I guess you ar
e all right.” And then he apologized. “Sorry, I heard you scream and I thought you were in trouble.”
“I didn’t scream, I gasped,” she corrected angrily. “Don’t you know the difference? The water was cold. And what are you doing here, anyway?” How much longer did she have to put up with Laredo popping up where he didn’t belong?
“Looking for you,” Laredo answered simply. His back to the shower stall, he addressed his words to the opposite wall. “I called the precinct, but they said you hadn’t come in yet. So I thought I’d swing by your place to see if you’d left yet. When I saw your car parked in your space, I thought maybe you were running late for some reason.”
That still didn’t answer her question. “Why are you here?” Taylor enunciated each word with barely suppressed anger.
He had her trapped, she thought. There was no way she could keep her dignity and still step out to get her towel. She stared at the back of Laredo’s head. If he turned around, she was going to have him drawn and quartered.
“Hand me that towel that’s hanging on the rack,” she instructed. “And keep your eyes forward.”
There was no missing the warning note in her voice. Laredo took the towel and, still averting his eyes, held it out to her. He felt her grabbing the towel out of his hand, heard her yanking it through the small opening she’d allowed between the frosted door and the shower frame. When he heard the door being shut again, he moved back to the spot where he’d been standing and resumed staring at the opposite wall.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he told her by way of an apology.
She didn’t answer.
Wrapping the towel tightly around herself, Taylor secured it. The realization that it was a little like closing the barn door after the horse had run away didn’t escape her. She was certain Laredo had gotten more than just a fleeting glimpse of her naked body when he’d yanked the door open.
“I’m waiting,” Taylor announced as she opened the door and stepped out of the shower stall.
Very cautiously, he turned around until he was facing her. Damn, but she looked sexy, he couldn’t help thinking. Even with dripping hair and no makeup. But, sexy or not, he had no idea what she was talking about.
“For…?” he asked, leaving the rest of it up in the air.
In a perfect world, her answer would somehow dovetail with the sensations and blatant desires now charging madly throughout his system, threatening to overwhelm him if he lowered his guard. With very little encouragement, he would have gladly yanked the damp towel away from her body and set about pleasuring them both. Her first because he knew she had to be won over. But, in doing that, in pleasing her, he would also accomplish bringing pleasure to himself.
Laredo cleared his throat as he struggled to get his mind back on the right track. It took a surprising amount of effort.
The reason why he’d come looking for her in the first place was all but forgotten in the wake of the reason he wanted to be here now. He wanted her. Wanted her in every damn sense of the word, Laredo thought as itches that he wasn’t at liberty to scratch ran rampant through him.
Suddenly warmer than she knew the room temperature warranted, Taylor felt incredibly vulnerable. She absolutely hated that.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me why you came looking for me,” she choked out. He had no right to be here, shaking her up like this, no right at all.
It took Laredo a second to actually remember what had originally brought him here. “I had an idea.”
She’d thought he’d burst in because of something big, like—God forbid—another body being found. Taylor blew out a breath. “I will alert the media, but first, get the hell out of my bedroom,” she ordered, walking past him as she crossed from the bathroom to her bedroom. She had to get dressed and she wasn’t about to do it with Laredo standing in the room. With her luck, he probably had eyes in the back of his head.
Laredo gave her no argument. He stepped out into the tiny hallway that led from her bedroom into the living room. The second he crossed the threshold, the door behind him slammed shut. It barely missed hitting him in the butt.
“I could have you arrested, you know,” she informed him, raising her voice so that it carried through the closed door. Quickly, she hurried into her clothes. “For breaking and entering,” she elaborated in case the charges escaped him.
“I had probable cause,” he countered. “I heard you scream.”
She laughed shortly. “And you were coming to my rescue.”
“Yeah, I was.”
Finished dressing, Taylor sighed at the answer, then opened the door. Maybe he was telling the truth. Besides, she didn’t have time to waste having him booked, even though the idea was more than a little tempting.
“Okay,” she told him, walking out holding a pair of shoes in her hand. She dropped them on the floor and then stepped into them. “We’ll let it go for now.” Adjusting the back of one shoe, she looked at him. “What’s this big idea you couldn’t wait to share?”
“I don’t know how big it is,” he prefaced, “but I thought we could take a picture of Crawford and show it to that security guard in Eileen’s building. Who knows, maybe Crawford paid her a visit or two and that set off a chain of events.”
Offhand, she didn’t see how they could follow that up, seeing as how both participants were dead, but stranger things had happened.
After rolling the suggestion over in her head, she shrugged. “Can’t hurt, I suppose.”
All things considered, the idea wasn’t half-bad, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. Not just yet, anyway. She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he had seen her naked. She knew he had despite the fact that he had been quick to avert his eyes and she had yanked the door out of his hands at lightning speed. There had been a split second. She had almost felt his eyes slide over her. Maybe not at length, but still thoroughly.
“Nope,” he agreed, “can’t hurt—and it might just lead us somewhere.” Anything was better than just sitting around, twiddling his thumbs and reviewing notes he’d already committed to memory.
“Maybe,” she allowed without feeling. Taylor twisted her still-damp hair into a knot and then secured it with a couple of pins.
He looked at her more closely. “You look a little tired, Detective McIntyre. Up all night working the case?” he guessed.
No, up trying to work you out of my mind. “Something like that,” she answered.
“We can stop for breakfast if you want,” he offered, following her out of the apartment. “Orange juice might perk you up. I can drive so that you don’t run the risk of falling asleep behind the wheel.”
If he was trying to ingratiate himself with her, the man was wasting his time. “I don’t eat breakfast and I am more than capable of driving my own car,” she informed him tersely.
“Shouldn’t skip breakfast,” he told her cheerfully. “Most important meal of the day.”
“So Andrew Cavanaugh likes to say,” she murmured under her breath.
“Wise man.”
“Yes, he is. You, however, are an annoying man—and on borrowed time,” she underscored.
“I grow on people,” he assured her.
“So does fungus,” she pointed out. “That doesn’t exactly make it something to look forward to.”
“We’re definitely stopping for coffee,” he informed her with finality.
Chapter 9
A fter stopping at the precinct in order to pick up the best photograph from the ones that had been taken of Terrance Crawford at the crime scene, Laredo and Taylor went to see the security guard at Eileen Stevens’s building. Taylor insisted on using separate cars.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t like my company, Detective McIntyre,” Laredo observed when she told him she intended to go in her own car—and he was welcome to follow in his if he wanted.
She smiled, but just barely. “I guess you really are astute, Laredo.”
“And you, Detective McIntyre,
are one tough lady.” He noticed that his observation pleased her.
Pressing a button, Laredo released the security system in his vehicle. It beeped twice in response as all four locks popped open.
“As long as you know,” Taylor replied, getting into her car.
Even though he knew the way, Laredo opted to follow behind her. As it turned out, if he hadn’t, he would have missed her vehicle suddenly veering off the given course. He watched in surprise as she drove off in an entirely different direction.
What was going on here?
Taking care not to lose sight of her car, Laredo flipped open his cell phone. Eyes on the road, he pressed the number 9, which was the key he had assigned to her cell phone when he’d programmed it in the other day.
The phone rang three times before she answered.
“Trying to ditch me, Detective?” he asked.
Up ahead, he saw her make a sharp right. His was wider as he pushed down on the accelerator, determined not to lose her.
Taylor glanced up into her rearview mirror and saw him narrowly avoid fishtailing. “No, but I can give you a ticket for talking on your cell phone while driving.”
“Police business,” he pointed out. It was one of the exceptions to the ruling that had recently been passed against cell phone usage in cars. “Besides, I’m using a speakerphone. You can save your ticket, Detective. I’ve got both hands on the wheel.” He heard her sigh and smiled to himself. “By the way, I thought you said we were going to The Villas.”
“We were, but that’ll have to wait. I just got a call.”
He didn’t have to guess what the call entailed. Her lieutenant wouldn’t have abruptly rerouted her to an entirely different case. That meant that another body, sporting a leather choker, had turned up to be added to the list.
This was getting put of hand. “You’re kidding.”
“I only wish,” she said with feeling, watching the road for the next turn. “Dispatch just got a call that two patrolmen found another body. This time it was in an alley.”
He shared her feeling of disbelief. “The same M.O. as the others?”
The Cavanaugh Code Page 9