Sea of Suspicion

by Toni Anderson

  He didn’t know how to love a child.

  She darted into the bedroom. He almost followed her into her comfort zone, but comfort zones had always proved dangerous to him. Undercover police officers often got a bullet in the brain when they got too comfortable.

  He counted to ten, gritting his teeth until he heard her approach.

  He smiled when he saw her. She looked amazing. Her hair tousled, her lips red from his kisses, and whatever crying did to her eyes didn’t look bad in this light. She stopped and stared at him, gnawing her bottom lip. She didn’t look like the cool, calm university professor anymore.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t let go.

  Not yet.

  “Come here.” He held his hand out.

  It took a moment before she moved toward him, dragging her feet as if reluctant, but it was herself she was fighting, not him, and he knew what he had to do. He moved to take the condom from her fingers, but she dropped it. As she bent to retrieve it, her shirt slid over her bottom and gave him a view that made his heart stop.

  “Please God, stay right there.” He put one hand on the small of her back, taking the condom from her fingers, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling the cool latex over himself. She was bent over, her shirt hanging loose so he could see the line of her ribs and sweet curve of her breasts.

  “This is supposed to instill self-esteem?” she muttered, but he heard excitement there too, and desire.

  “Trust me…” He maneuvered them closer to the couch, let her brace her hands against the cushions as his hands savored the velvet peaks of her nipples, drifting lower and to the folds that concealed heaven. And when he found her hot and slick he smiled, held on to her hips as he slid gently inside, moving her across him until it was almost unbearable. He curled himself over her, cradling her.

  “Trust me, Susie.” He pulled her hair to one side and kissed her neck and she writhed as he held her tight against him. “Don’t fight it. You can do whatever the hell you want to me. I don’t care.” He pushed the cotton shirt over her head. “Use me. Scream as loud as you like. Scratch me. Bite me. Anything. Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean I don’t respect you.”

  She went still as he knew she would at his crudity. He just smiled against her back, nudged her legs wider apart and changed the angle.

  “I respect you, Susie.” She exploded around him, squeezing him so tight it took every ounce of control not to follow.

  Why couldn’t she see this sort of pleasure was something to be savored, not ashamed of?

  He maneuvered her against the wall the way he’d wanted to earlier. Her eyes were wide and filled with some inner anxiety. What would it take to blast away that reticence, to destroy the barricades? What would an uninhibited Susie Cooper be like?

  Nick intended to find out.

  He lifted her up and eased inside, squeezing his eyes shut against the pleasure. His hands dug into her hips and sweat beaded on his brow from the effort of holding back.

  “Take whatever you want from me.” He wanted to bind her to him. He needed something significant from her and that scared him. “We end when you say so and not before.” He drove deep inside her, focused, fierce and intense on the moment. “And whatever happens, I’ll respect the hell out of you in the morning.”

  “What if I don’t end it when you want me to?” Her voice was a whisper.

  He plunged deeper, both of them desperate to get closer, heat steaming from their pores, sweat gluing their bodies together, and his heart pounding so hard his ribs hurt.

  “You will,” he promised.

  She cried out, quivering in his arms, looking like some breathtaking angel. He didn’t deserve her, but God help him, right now, he didn’t care.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I miss my dog.”

  Nick’s words rumbled through her hair, his chin rubbing the top of her head as they sat on the front step of her cottage watching dawn break over a clear October morning. It felt good to have his arms around her, good to connect after a night of mind-blowing, invigorating sex. The shame that usually rose up and choked her after being with a man didn’t materialize. Somewhere, somehow, his confession last night had eased her. Dampened the fear inside her that enjoying sex would lead to her own moral destruction.

  The knowledge that Nick had been abused, that he’d been raped at a young age made her insecurities seem petty and ill-conceived. She’d had sex at fifteen, she’d gotten pregnant and she’d given away her baby while in the throes of depression. Her baby was safe. She needed to move on.

  “When will you get Rocket back?” She felt the pause of his breath and turned around as he stared at her.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you.” He huffed out a laugh. “We arrested Judy Sizemore for the murder of Tracy Good last night. She also confessed to killing Chrissie.”

  Susie gripped her mug tighter as surprise rippled through her. How must he feel to know he’d finally found his wife’s killer? She reached out to touch his face, but he drew back. She swallowed and reminded herself that this was not a relationship. It was sex.

  “Did you tell Emily and Lily?”

  Nick nodded, leaning over to the side to pick up his coffee from the stoop. “I went over last night before I came here. Emily took it badly.”

  That explained the desperation she’d seen in his eyes when he’d walked in the door.

  “Because of me, she’s been blaming Jake for years.” He looked over to the Heathcotes’ cottage, just visible over the hedge in the distance. “She didn’t believe me when I told her it was Judy, not Jake. She insisted I’d made a mistake.” Lines fanned out like a spider’s web at the corners of his eyes.

  “I spent all day yesterday conducting interviews.” His eyes latched onto hers as if trying to reinforce the truth in his words. “I may not be good at relationships, but I did try to call you.”

  “Oh.” The sun glowed like molten gold over the eastern horizon and there was a matching glow inside her chest. Don’t get sucked in, she told herself. Don’t fall for him. They were just two adults having a fling until she found someone better, someone more solid.

  Even so his words soothed her disquiet.

  “Maybe I should get a dog.” She changed the subject and he let her. A gull hopped down from her chimney and eyed them with distrust from the nearby gravel.

  “Dogs are more hassle than kids.” His eyes sparkled, but she couldn’t help flinching. She wanted kids and he knew it. He missed nothing and gave her a half smile of apology as he stood. “I’ve got to get to work.”

  “When do I get my car back?” Susie asked, standing.

  Nick took her mug from her fingers and walked inside. She followed him.

  “I’ll give them a call today.” He glanced over his shoulder as he washed the mugs and placed them on the drainer. “Even though Judy confessed, there’s still a lot of work to do corroborating evidence.” He dried his hands. “I’ll give you a lift to work if you want.”

  She hid her surprise. It only took a minute to grab her flash drive and a couple of the more relevant papers she was using to write her review.

  “You don’t mind?” she asked.

  “I pass right by the Gatty, why would I mind?” Confusion creased his brow until he got it. He laughed at her. “You think I don’t want to be seen with you in public?” His hand curved over her shoulders. “Susie. How can someone so smart be so friggin’ stupid?”

  “Practice?” She grinned and allowed herself to believe the sincerity in those green eyes.

  He shook his head, tugged her after him, holding her hand, waiting while she set the alarm and locked the door. They drove without talking, Radio Five-Live filling the silence with news stories covering everything from Manchester United to the G8.

  At East Sands he pulled up on the embankment overlooking the sea, just yards from where poor Tracy Good had been viciously slain. Susie mumbled goodbye, climbed out and was already walking away when he got
out.

  “Hey, Susie!” He moved quickly and caught her hand. The wind tugged her hair. People were all around. Cars flashed by carrying her co-workers. Jake. Candace. Rafael sailing past on his bike with a shouted, “Olá.”

  Nick’s thumb angled her chin, fingers sinking into her hair as he lowered his lips to hers for a brief kiss. Then he raised his head, smiled a heartbreaking smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  There was a flash of a camera. Nick spun to face the same reporter who’d crept into her lecture last week. Susie cringed.

  “What do you want?” Nick’s lips curled as he stalked the chubby guy. Susie called to leave it, but he didn’t hear.

  Did he even know who her mother was? That thought shocked her into keeping her mouth shut. Senator Darcy Cooper intimidated most people to hell and back. And although Susie knew she and Nick were temporary, the feelings that had blossomed between them were too precious to trample just yet.

  Nick pulled the camera from the protesting journalist’s hands and looked at the digital display.

  Please don’t break it.

  He checked the image, called out to her with a wink. “You look great, but I’ve got a double chin.” He thrust the camera into the guy’s gut. “You’ve got your picture, now fuck off.”

  Susie only realized her mouth was open after Nick walked back to her and tapped it shut, then kissed her again.

  “Yes, I know who your mother is. I’d be a useless detective if I hadn’t worked that out, wouldn’t I?” And he was gone. Leaving Susie standing watching him drive away, bewildered by the way he used the f-word so casually and by the fact he’d just declared in a public manner they were an item, however temporary.

  The shame that had solidified inside her heart all those years ago split open and Susie felt a whole new person emerging. It wasn’t just Nick. It was how she was starting to view herself as a stronger, better human being. And she was going to make the most of it.

  Nick blinked against the sunlight pouring through Ewan McKnight’s windows. Amy reached out a hand to grasp Nick’s sleeve, the pressure on his arm like a butterfly dancing.

  “I—I—I…hear…you have a new…girlfriend.” She spoke slowly, each word requiring careful enunciation and a great deal of effort. She lay prone in a hospital bed that had been installed in the McKnight’s sunroom a year ago, overlooking a goldfish pond and a barren rowan tree.

  Nick squeezed her hand. “Is that what Ewan said?” It was impossible to lie to a woman who was slowly wasting away, her body eroding around a mind sharper than Toledo steel.

  The muscles in her face didn’t always work so her smile was hit and miss.

  “It would…be good. Help you…move on now you’ve found wife’s murderer.”

  “Putting a murderer away is good for everyone.” Nick shrugged. So what if he’d been wrong about Jake? They had Judy locked up tight where she couldn’t hurt anyone else. “Susie and I are just having a bit of fun.”

  Amy’s eyes twinkled and he looked away with a reluctant chuckle.

  Out the window five pumpkins were piled up, waiting to be carved into lanterns by Amy and Ewan’s kids. It was peaceful here, the smell of damp earth masking the faint odor of antiseptic.

  Ewan was making a pot of tea in the kitchen. With the case sewn up and the suspect behind bars they could relax a little, so he was working from home. Nick had agreed to meet him here to finish the last batch of reports before he re-interviewed Judy Sizemore that afternoon.

  Amy’s hand tightened on his sleeve. “I want Ewan to find someone else…after…I’m gone.” Bloodshot eyes nailed him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It isn’t easy…to think…I’m going to be dead…one of these days. To leave Ewan and my babies behind.” Tears spilled over her cheeks and Nick opened his mouth to say something reassuring but nothing came out.

  Amy never cried. She was so strong she scared the hell out of him.

  “Promise me you’ll be there for him, Nick.” The light in Amy’s eyes unnerved him. Big bad Nick Archer terrified of a bed-bound woman who couldn’t even stand.

  Finally he found his voice. “Don’t talk like that, Amy, you’ve got years left.” But his voice was harsher than he meant it to be.

  “Oh God. I hope not!” She laughed but winced as her lips cracked. Nick wished he were the sort of man who knew how to ease her burden, but he backed away, uncomfortable with this sort of helplessness.

  “I know Ewan seems strong.” Amy wasn’t letting him escape. Not today. So he stopped retreating and met her gaze. “But when I’m gone. He’ll need help. You…understand.” Her hand shook as she reached for her lip balm. Nick picked it up and pressed it into her hands.

  “Thanks.” She smiled and took a hoarse breath. “It’s the kids I worry about most. To have a mother…so crippled.” Anger gleamed in the depths of her eyes. “I want to watch them grow…but if I were dead…they could move on.”

  “They love you, Amy.” He didn’t know what else to say. Her love for her kids was the most powerful emotion he’d ever encountered, which made his own mother’s treatment all the more damning. Amy saved him from saying anything else by starting to cough and not being able to stop.

  “Ewan!” Nick yelled.

  “Here we go.” Ewan came into the room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. “You having a bit of trouble?” he spoke directly to his wife, who was wheezing and nodding, her eyes wide with terror. He placed the tray on the chair beside the bed and leaned over, bending her forward to pound her back. She finally took a shuddering breath and he eased her gently onto the pillow. Sunlight drenched her flushed skin as her breath slowly eased away from that awful wet rattle.

  “Better?” Ewan asked and held a straw to her lips to give her a sip of water. She swallowed and nodded, closed her eyes and lay back against the pillows, exhausted.

  Shit.

  Ewan caught Nick’s eye. Although his colleague’s face was impassive there was grimness in the back of his eyes, a terrible pain.

  Losing Chrissie had felt like a sharp dagger ripping through Nick’s chest. So how did Ewan deal with that agony every single day? Did it get duller? Did the blade lose its edge? From the look in his friend’s eyes, Nick didn’t think so. Ewan led the way into a sun-soaked living room that was painted green and filled with effigies of frogs in all their forms. He looked knackered, deep pockets of purple flesh padding the circles beneath his eyes.

  “Are forensics in?” Ewan asked. There was a catch in his voice that they both ignored.

  Nick nodded. “Everything except DNA.”

  “Anything on the hammer?” Ewan cleared his throat.

  “Just Tracy.” Nick slumped onto the floral loveseat. “There’s no evidence to tie Judy Sizemore to the hammer, or the body, or the murder scene.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t like it.”

  Ewan stood beside the gas fireplace. “Judy’s a smart lady, maybe she knew enough about forensics to cover her tracks.”

  “Aye, but there’s no blood in either of their cars, or on any of her clothes. No fingerprints or DNA on the murder weapon.” Nick realized he was grinding his teeth when his forehead started to throb. “Did she really love that bastard enough to kill two women? Because I sure as hell didn’t feel the love during the interview.”

  “The only blood trace found was in Susie’s car.”

  Nick gave Ewan a challenging stare. “From my shoes because I drove it the night of the murder, remember?”

  “You don’t think it’s a little coincidental that both blood trace and the murder weapon were found in her Mini?”

  Nick felt every muscle inside his body coil. “God help me, Susie had nothing to do with this…if someone says she did—”

  “A couple of woodentops thought you might have done it to set up Sizemore—”

  “What?” Nick blinked in shock at his fellow detective.

  “I’m just telling you what was said in the break room.”

  “And what did
you tell them?” Nick had been so focused on Tracy’s murder he’d missed the possible connotations.

  “I told them if you’d wanted to frame Sizemore for murder, the girl would have died in the man’s office, and he’d have been found holding the murder weapon and covered in her blood.”

  Nick didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult. “I wouldn’t kill an innocent girl just to set him up.”

  “No. Nothing so underhand. You’d just beat him to a pulp.”

  He’d already tried that.

  Ewan’s face sagged and Nick wondered if he was a huge disappointment to his sergeant.

  “Judy said she killed the women in a jealous rage. Why else would she confess?” Ewan asked.

  “I don’t know.” Nick rubbed both hands over his face. His own lack of conviction grated on his nerves.

  “It must piss you off to know you were wrong about Jake Sizemore all these years.”

  “Not really. He was still screwing my wife.”

  Ewan frowned at the teapot. “But you don’t think Judy did it, do you?”

  Nick picked up the files he needed. “I want to believe she did it. But maybe I want to believe it a little too much. There isn’t any physical evidence.”

  Ewan snorted. “You’re just scared of not having an excuse not to get on with your life.”

  Nick held back an expletive. “This isn’t about my life, and I get on with it just fine.”

  “This has been your entire life since your wife died. Now it is over you’ve no excuse to be miserable anymore.”

  Temper sizzled through Nick making his skin hot and his fists clench.

  “You could actually be happy with a nice girl like Susie Cooper. Wouldn’t that be a bloody miracle?”

  Christ. Each heartbeat thudded through Nick in slow motion. Only the fact Amy lay in the next room stopped him from going for Ewan’s throat, even though the D.S. looked as if he wanted to go a few rounds. Ewan didn’t usually pick fights.