Hot Trick (A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel)

by Patricia Rosemoor

My insides tumbled and I groaned. “Don’t tempt me, please. Sounds great, but not tonight. Not when—”

  “Not when you have detecting to do,” he finished for me.

  “Yeah, you know the drill. Really, I’m sorry.” I was already backing into the bathroom. “Can I have a rain check, though?”

  “Always.”

  Always…a word that both excited and frightened me. I couldn’t imagine sharing “always” with one man…but neither could I imagine being without Jake.

  Chapter Eight

  Silke snapped the cell phone shut. She had a weird feeling about this murder, more so than one of Shelley’s normal cases.

  Maybe it was the mention of the supposed banshee—that’s what Shelley had called this Casey Brogan, who’d predicted someone was going to die.

  What if he really was a banshee?

  Her party mood deflating as quickly as a balloon, Silke started through the crowd, back toward the dance floor to look for Oriel.

  As smart as her sister was, Shelley was too focused on what she could see, hear, smell, touch, taste. She didn’t look for the things other than her everyday five senses. She’d never trusted or tried to develop her sixth sense the way Silke had.

  Shelley didn’t exactly approve of her delving into things beyond what the average person could understand—like magic—even though Silke’s bare-bones knowledge had helped get them out of supernatural hot water with that vampire case. Shelley had lectured Silke to stay away from dangerous pursuits, then her pragmatic sister had done her best to forget about anything that didn’t have a simple explanation.

  The thing that ticked off Silke most was that her sister wasn’t any more “normal” than she was. Shelley was a sensitive and could find her own power if only she put her mind to it, but she simply pretended not to know. Blending in had never concerned Silke, and she’d always gone her own way.

  Like tonight.

  Music pounded in her ears as she got to the edge of the dance floor and spotted Oriel before the blonde was swallowed by the rhythmically thrusting dancers. It had been difficult to keep track of one another since they’d arrived. In addition to the large crowd, the dark atmosphere and the occasional special effects interrupted the club-goers’ vision.

  To the uninitiated, Illusions was just another dance club, one with magic symbols woven into the decor. But to those in the know, it was a place to hook up with others with special interests, special abilities.

  If Shelley knew what she was really doing here, Silke thought as she dived into the sea of wriggling bodies, she would probably freak.

  Silke elbowed her way toward Oriel, while concentrating on sending her a silent SOS. As if she could hear, the other woman whipped her head around, and Silke gave an urgent wave. Oriel left her dance partner who simply turned and made a threesome with another couple.

  “What’s up?” she gasped, a little out of breath. Her voluptuous curves were barely covered by a spandex mini and a couple of strips of gauzy material over her breasts. Her tanned flesh shone with sweat. Silke felt nunlike in her own bohemian skirt and flounced cami.

  “Let’s go somewhere we can hear.”

  Silke led the way to a far bar where the music wasn’t piped in. The cozy area decorated in dark blue with touches of silver was mostly filled with couples or singles hooking up. A wave of envy washed through her. For years she’d given her sister a hard time about being dateless, but her personal life wasn’t much better. Not that she didn’t have occasional dates, but it wasn’t like having a man of her own.

  Would she ever find someone she wanted to be with long term?

  Even as she thought it, the way Sebastian had looked earlier, after the escape, flitted through her mind. Her pulse thrummed, but she quickly shook off the uncomfortable reaction.

  Taking a stool at the end of the bar, she told Oriel, “Something happened tonight.”

  “What? You met someone? Cool.”

  “Not me. It’s bad, Oriel. A murder. A woman was tied up and locked in the trunk of a car and drowned in the Chicago River.”

  “Oh, that is bad.” Oriel seemed puzzled. “But what does that have to do with us?”

  “My sister the cop thinks it’s too much of a coincidence that the murder was so similar to Sebastian’s escape. She wants to talk to him.”

  “Shelley thinks Sebastian did it?” Oriel’s eyebrows shot up but she seemed more intrigued than shocked or horrified. “Oh-h, re-e-al-ly…”

  “Well, it’s some coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Right, too bizarre,” Oriel said, an odd note to her voice.

  “You know where he lives, right? I mean you have the address.”

  “Yeah, sure. Sebastian and I are solid.” Oriel grabbed a napkin and a pen from the bar and scribbled down the address, then gave it to Silke. “Here. You have to promise to tell me everything, though.”

  “If I know anything. Shelley doesn’t necessarily share her work with me.”

  “Are you kidding? Your own twin would hold out? I thought the two of you were close.”

  “We are close, but Shelley is first and foremost a cop.”

  “I don’t have a twin, but my brother Del and I used to share everything.”

  Silke caught how Oriel’s voice thickened. Undoubtedly she and her brother were on the outs.

  “I’m sure Shelley will tell me what she can. You do realize if anything comes of this, if Sebastian or someone connected to him had something to do with the woman’s death, we could be out of a job, right?”

  “Oh.” Oriel frowned. “With our talents, we’re bound to get another job with no trouble at all.”

  Silke knew Oriel didn’t mean show biz talent but the other kind practiced by patrons of this club.

  Making her wonder just how talented Oriel was.

  Chapter Nine

  I wondered how long it would take Silke to get back to me.

  After hanging my clean clothes on a wall hook, I started the shower to get the hot water up. When I went to close the bathroom door, Jake was standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

  “The least you can do is give me a preview.”

  “Ja-a-ake.”

  “I love it when you say my name like that. Especially when I’m doing something carnal to you.”

  His voice vibrated through me. I knew I wasn’t going to get him to budge, so I tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

  Turning, I quickly shed my clothing, opened the glass shower door and stepped inside. I could feel his gaze as I let the water pound over my exhausted body. He didn’t take his eyes off me once as I sponged foamy shower gel all over.

  “Let me help.”

  I nearly jumped. He had an unnerving way of moving so fast I couldn’t even see him coming. One second he was at the bathroom door, the next second he was inside the shower with me, getting an up-close-and-personal view.

  “Your back really needs attention,” he said, reaching for the bath sponge in my hand.

  I couldn’t object, not when he was so close and so hot and I was so Jake-deprived. I guessed what was coming—the slippery feel of the sponge, his free hand “helping” spread the suds in every direction. He slid his hand lower, around my buttocks and between my thighs. Breathing hard, I hit the shower wall with both hands and spread my legs. He had the longest, cleverest fingers of any man I’d ever been with, and even before he slid them inside me I was creaming.

  “I think you need attention here too,” he murmured, torturing my clit a little, pressing himself up against my backside.

  “You’re still dressed,” I gasped.

  “Complaints?” He slid the sponge around to my breast and teased a nipple until it stood at attention.

  I couldn’t answer him, not with his fingers inside me and his cock rock hard stroking my butt. I wanted to tear off his jeans and free him, but I couldn’t move.

  He rocked against me in an imitation of sex, pushed and pulled his fingers in and out. My heart thumped in my chest. In my throat.
In my sweet spot. And just as I was climbing and climbing and climbing, almost there, knowing all I had to do was hang on for another few seconds and Jake would give me the relief I’d been missing, only then did the damn phone ring.

  Jake kept up the pressure, but my head left the zone.

  The phone rang again and Jake must have read my altered mood, because he stopped trying.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “I’ll bet you are.” He left me in the shower to answer the phone.

  “After you get that, could you pull up the computer and run a search on Sebastian Cole?” It wouldn’t hurt to see what the escape artist had been up to lately.

  “My pleasure.”

  Jake was gone as quickly as he’d appeared. I shut off the water, grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my hair, then dried myself with another. By the time he returned, I had on my underwear and shirt and was climbing into my slacks.

  “I didn’t get to watch you dress.”

  “I thought it was the un-dressing part you liked best.” Realizing he was wet, I tried drying him with the towel.

  He pulled me against him and murmured into my ear. “I can be quick if you want.”

  My body shuddered but I had to get back to business. I pushed away from him, leaving the towel in his hands. “Did Silke get that information?”

  Jake inclined his head and held out a piece of paper. I reached for it but he held it up. “The least I deserve is a proper thank you.”

  Knowing exactly what he wanted—what I wanted—I was oh, so tempted, but I needed to get on the job or Norelli would eat me for breakfast.

  I kissed him, softly running my lips over his, then down his chin and his neck. “That’ll have to do you for a while, but I promise I’ll make it good.” I couldn’t keep the longing from my tone. “Really, really good.”

  “I know you will,” Jake said, groaning. He handed me the address.

  I glanced at it, then folded the paper and stuck it in my pocket. “Thanks.”

  I went straight for the computer and saw that Jake had brought up an article about Sebastian Cole. Towel-drying my hair, I sat and skimmed it.

  “It seems this Sebastian is a white knight,” Jake said from behind me. “He debunked the work of another magician named Edmund Fox. Sebastian claimed Fox was a charlatan who played on people’s grief and gullibility, supposedly connected them to their lost loved ones. Fox then took Sebastian to court for depriving him of a living.”

  “I see Sebastian won.”

  “By the way, Fox is in town,” Jake said, his breath suddenly at my neck. When I pressed back into his mouth, he ran his teeth along the flesh there, and found fuller flesh to occupy his hands. As if he weren’t busy torturing me, he kept talking. “One of the articles about Sebastian had an aside about Fox, said he arrived in town shortly after Sebastian.”

  “I’ll make a note of that.”

  Unable to take any more of his seduction without giving in, I ducked away to turn on the printer. After making a copy of the article, I went back to the internet search. Skimming the links, I found a couple more of interest. Stories about Sebastian, some comparing him to competitors Delano Robichaux and Harry Dawson in addition to Edmund Fox. All positive stories on his work, on his ongoing quest for justice.

  “Robichaux,” I murmured. “That name’s familiar.”

  “Maybe because he was involved with the mob. He was found floating face down in a Las Vegas hotel pool.”

  “I guess Sebastian isn’t competing with him anymore.”

  “Or with Fox.”

  “Well, it’s a start,” I said, leaving the computer in search of clean shoes. “Let’s hope it’s enough to make Norelli happy.”

  “Norelli,” Jake echoed, following me into the bedroom. “This isn’t your case?”

  “It is now.”

  “Because of Silke.”

  Slipping into a pair of loafers that I’d left next to the bed, I said, “You know me so well.”

  “I’d like to know you better.”

  “You will with time.”

  “Time. That would be a problem since I hardly ever get to see you.”

  “But we spend quality time together,” I joked.

  “We could spend more time together if you moved in with me.”

  Feeling trapped when he came closer, I ducked away from him again and fetched a light jacket from my closet. “Where is this coming from?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “We’ve only known each other for a couple of months, Jake.”

  “Long enough for me to know what I want. How about you?”

  I might want him, but it was complicated. Jake wasn’t the guy next door. He wasn’t a guy in the literal human sense. The vampire DNA in him might come back to bite him—and hopefully not me—someday.

  Of course his vampire DNA had helped me close the cult killer case. He’d been willing to do anything to see that justice was done at last. We were the same in that way, the thing that first drew me to him beyond a physical level. Determination I could appreciate, it was every bit as attractive to me as his drop-dead gorgeous looks. Too many people skipped the fine print when it came to being upstanding. Not Jake. He was solid. And he was mine. Sometimes the realization was enough to take away my breath.

  I cared about him, wanted to be with him, was willing to protect his real identity…but I couldn’t just open up and let him in completely the way he wanted. Part of it was the circumstances around his birth. I had difficulty enough with the woo-woo Silke brought into my life. Jake was another matter.

  Mostly I feared I would screw things up like I had with other men.

  What the heck was wrong with me?

  “For now, can’t we just keep things as they are? I’m still proving myself in Homicide. You just started a new business. I’ll be complaining about wanting to see you more when your photography takes off.”

  “If it ever does.”

  “Of course it will.”

  After Heart of Darkness closed and Jake lost his job, he hadn’t known what to do with himself. He’d photographed the world during his wanderings, and I thought he was good enough to be a professional. I’d encouraged him to bring his portfolio to a couple of galleries. One of the owners had hooked him up with a customer who bought three prints, convincing Jake he might be able to turn his hobby into a career. I was elated for him—he could do a job he was good at, one he loved. That he would be happy made me happy.

  When Jake didn’t say anything, I put my arms around him and laid my forehead against his chin.

  “I wish I didn’t have to…but I need to leave now.”

  “I can go with you. Give me an assignment.”

  I drew back, my expression serious. “I have to meet Norelli. This is police business, Jake.”

  “Yeah.” He cupped my cheek and gazed deeply into my eyes. “You could get hurt.”

  “You could too. You’re not invincible.” The idea of his getting hurt on the street made my alarms go off. As did the fact that he wanted to protect me. No one had ever thought I needed protecting before. “I appreciate your concern.”

  I really did. Every time he offered—literally every case. I’d never met anyone like him before. Not anyone who wasn’t on the job. That he wanted to help clean up the streets of Chicago was very cool. Very me.

  He tilted my chin and brushed his lips over mine. “Anytime you need me…”

  “I’ll just whistle.” Moving away, I holstered my gun and secured it at the small of my back. “Don’t wait for me. I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

  “I got that.”

  I could tell he wasn’t happy, but at least he wasn’t arguing. Knowing when to leave things alone, I booked out of there without looking back.

  Chapter Ten

  Watching her go out the door, Jake wondered at Shelley’s reluctance to let him get closer to her. Not physically, but emotionally. She seemed happy the way things were, and he wanted to take their relationship deep
er. They were so right for each other, maybe a lifetime-together kind of right. He’d thought she’d gotten over the part-vampire thing.

  Apparently not.

  Maybe there was more to her not wanting to live with him. Shelley was off tonight…not only the tension he sensed, but the scent she’d carried into the apartment. Taking a deep whiff of her jacket had put his nerves on edge. He was still walking a narrow emotional line and not just because he hadn’t had his way with Shelley. The scent on her jacket had been familiar…but not. Oddly, it made him think he should recognize the smell, that it belonged to someone he should know.

  Someone from his past?

  He sorted through memories, trying to pin the scent to a time and place, but he simply couldn’t get it.

  No time to obsess over it now.

  The feelings the scent roused were so disturbing that, despite Shelley’s not wanting his help—despite the fact that she kept him from everyone and everything in her professional and private life except her sister—Jake felt compelled to follow her, to find out what was going on first hand.

  He listened and waited for her car to start before leaving the apartment. He had the address. He could probably beat her there.

  Shelley wouldn’t like it.

  But she wouldn’t have to know.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pulling into the morgue parking lot, I tried in vain to lighten my thoughts. Death wasn’t pretty and murder victims decidedly less so.

  I entered and showed my star to the night security. “Detective Mike Norelli? The Martin woman?”

  The man directed me to the room, but rather than going in, I stayed on the viewing side of the glass. Norelli was still with the M.E., his back to the victim.

  Despite myself, I had to look.

  Julie Martin lay on a slab, a sheet covering most of her. Except her face. I hadn’t been able to see it before, when her head had been turned away from me. Not now. Now I could see everything. Her eyes were glassy, her face contorted, her mouth open in what looked like a primal scream. The horror of knowing she was going to die stamped in her pretty features. Rigor had set in and I imagined the only way to close her mouth would be to break her jaw.