by Jen Talty
Shane took the tablet. “What is it?”
“Victimology of Emily and Gregory. Waiting for your other detectives to file reports on Iris before we pull that one together.”
Shane looked at the glowing tablet. “Give me the Cliffs Notes version.”
“Gregory helped coach soccer at the YMCA and was a referee for travel youth soccer.”
“Emily played travel soccer,” Shane said.
Kara nodded. “Two years ago, Gregory volunteered as an assistant coach for the age level that Emily was in. His team played hers twice. Both times, they lost by a lot. Other than that, and the museum, we can’t find anywhere else their lives might have crossed.”
“We need to interview both coaches. See if they remember an incident involving either one of them. What about Iris’s kid? Did he play soccer?”
“I called the father and, sure enough, Iris’s boy is into soccer. She went to games as much as she could, according to the father. He says he and Iris didn’t fight much. Did what was best for their son. The step-mother said she and Iris were friendly enough.”
“It’s Saturday, so we should get some forensics back by Monday.” Shane held the tablet in his hand, looking at the words, but he preferred to listen to Kara’s voice. “Curious to see what we get from the fibers the M.E. found in Iris’s hand, or what organ is missing.” Shane pulled out his phone and texted the second detective team to look into the soccer connection as best they could, considering the late hour. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us tomorrow.” Shane handed back the tablet, dropping his head to the cushion on the back of the sofa again. He rubbed his temples. “I suspect if we don’t figure this out in the next couple of days, we’ll have another dead body come Thursday.”
“I want to taunt the killer,” Kara said.
“You already did that.”
“Not really,” she said. “I want Cleary to give a statement when I do my next press conference.”
“About what?”
“About how good a job we’re doing tracking down the killer.”
“He won’t go for that.”
“If we give him the details, he sure as shit will. Right now, all that he and the public know is that we have three murders that have brought the Feds to town. The press is asking questions, begging for details, and reporting on our presence. But they don’t know about the candles or the organs, and I don’t think we can keep that quiet much longer.”
“Are you suggesting we leak information?”
“You know as well as I do that we’re going to have to give them something before things are leaked from other sources and we lose control of how we want this to play out.”
“Dangerous game.” Shane rolled his head to gauge Kara’s expression. She sat on the other side of the couch, her back to the armrest. Her legs were folded over one another, her elbows on her knees as she leaned in a tad. Her facial expression was stoic. Unemotional. And impossible to read.
“The killer has left no clues that we understand. Normally in cases like these, the killer wants credit. He wants the press to give him a name. He wants notoriety.”
“So, you just want to piss him off.” Shane didn’t like the sound of that any more than he liked the good congressman giving a press conference. “Just to try to get him to taunt back.”
Kara nodded. “I’ve looked into two possible cases to use as a basis. The one that makes the most sense the press dubbed the Organ Slayer. He’s currently in a psych ward. He killed nine people. Each time he’d take something from the body.”
“Do we know why he did it? What do the shrinks all have to say?”
Kara contorted her face as if she’d just bitten into something sour. “He was frying the body parts and eating them. He’s a psychopath and legally insane, with no concept of right and wrong.”
“A regular Hannibal Lecter,” Shane said. “So, what do you plan on doing to taunt our killer, exactly?”
“This other killer was dubbed the Organ Slayer by the media. We want to call this guy a copycat of him, and a bad one at that.”
“Sounds like he could be, except we have no reason to believe our killer is eating body parts.”
“We don’t have any reason to believe he’s not,” Kara said. “Tomorrow, following the briefing and after we’ve all got our assignments, we’ll make an announcement—”
“So, you’ve already decided taunting the killer is the best move?”
“With no leads, it’s our only move.”
Shane let out a long breath. She was right. They had nothing. Not even a direction. A long moment of silence followed. The only noise was the heater kicking on and off. It was odd how easy it was to converse with Kara about work. A natural ebb and flow between them. Like they’d been doing this for years, but it didn’t help ease the growing tension between them.
“That it?” he asked.
“That’s it for business,” she said.
Shane rolled his head toward her again. She had pulled her knees up to her chest. Her arms folded around her legs and her cheek rested on her knees. Her eyes were focused out the window.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?” Shane asked.
“To say thank you for Friday. For bringing the flowers. For being there with me again after all these years. I really do appreciate it.”
“You’ve already thanked me,” he said, inching closer.
She turned her head, catching his gaze. Holding it for a long moment. “I guess I just wanted to see you. Meet your son. Know your life.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” His knee touched her toes as he rested his hand on the back of the sofa, running his fingers through her hair, ignoring the inner voice telling him to stop or at least slow down. “Kevin thinks you’re cool.”
“I like him.” She raised her head, letting her one leg drop to the side; the other leaned against the back of the sofa. “We’re playing with fire.”
“I like things hot.” He pressed his lips against hers, applying slight pressure before deepening the kiss. Her body relaxed as he felt her hands on his shoulders, her legs stretching out over his lap. He cupped the nape of her neck with one hand, the other hand rested just under the swell of her breast. Her lips and tongue danced with his like an old waltz. Slow. Tender, then occasionally picking up the pace, only to slow it down to a mere brushing of the lips.
Gently, he slid her body down the sofa alongside his. Their lips were still entwined in a wet and sloppy kiss. Carefully, as if he were doing it for the first time, he pulled her shirt out of her slacks and glided his hands across her stomach. His knee pressed between her legs. Her hands gripped his neck and shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscles. Her lips frantically rubbed against his. He wanted to ravish her, taking all that he could, filling himself with every inch of her body. He remembered every curve. Every sensitive spot.
Her chest heaved up and down with her raspy breath. He felt like a teenager all over again. It was both exciting and terrifying to have her in his arms. He pressed his hand over her lacy bra; he could feel her hard nipple through the thin layer of fabric. He fanned his thumb across the nub and was rewarded with a soft moan as she dropped her head back onto the arm of the sofa. He kissed her soft neck as he shifted his body, giving him a better view of her breasts. He found the small clasp of her front-clasping bra and worked it between his fingers until it popped open. He pushed the fabric aside and held the perky mound in his hand, sliding his tongue down her throat, second-guessing why he’d chosen to go under the shirt instead of unbuttoning the shirt. Now he had to release her perfect breast to open her blouse.
He shifted so both hands could work the buttons. He’d opened the top three, which gave him the perfect view of the most perfect taut nipple. “Still perky,” he mused.
“Shane,” she whispered. “Stop.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I can tell.” She quickly covered her breast by clutching at her shirt. “We forgot about Theresa
, who just cleared her throat. I think she’s at the top of the stairs.”
“Shit.” He reached inside Kara’s shirt, groaning as he pulled her bra back around her breasts. They had been just as he remembered. He’d never seen breasts like hers. Ever. Nothing could ever compare to Kara in any way. He sat up, helping Kara to a sitting position while she fumbled, trying to tuck in her shirt. “I didn’t tell her about the rules when work comes home.”
“That had nothing to do with work,” Kara said.
“True. I’ll have to add a new rule about women.”
“Uncle Shane?” Theresa’s voice rang out. “I need to get something.”
“You can come down,” he said. “I didn’t hear the creak in the stairs,” he whispered in Kara’s ear.
“Oh hey, Kara,” Theresa said. “Didn’t know you were still here.” But Theresa’s smile said otherwise. “I left a couple of books I need. I’ll be out of your way in a jiffy.”
“I was just leaving,” Kara said.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said.
“It’s late and…” she paused. “It’s late.
Taking the hint, he said, “I’ll walk you to the car.”
“Always the gentleman.” Kara smiled sweetly.
“It was nice to meet you,” Theresa said. “Hope to see you again soon.”
“You too,” Kara said.
Once outside, Shane pulled open the door of her SUV. His body shivered from the cold as it bit through his shirt. His trousers barely kept his legs warm. She tossed her stuff across to the passenger side, but then turned back.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I wish I knew,” he said. “When this case is over, you’ll go back to D.C. and I’ll be here. With my son.”
“I know.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “I still care about you.”
He cupped her face and dropped his forehead to hers. “I care about you, too.” He pressed her against the side of the SUV and took her mouth a little too harshly. Her tongue was as eager as his to engage in another dance, but he broke it off quickly. “We’re different people than we were thirteen years ago.”
“Sometimes we don’t act like it,” she whispered. “Not sure this can continue.”
“Not sure we can stop it.” To prove his point he kissed her again, this time cupping her breast, finding her nipple with his forefinger and thumb and twisting it gently.
“You don’t play fair,” she said.
“I just know what you like.”
She smiled up at him, her hand on his chest, slowing lowering it until her fingers gripped his belt. He stared down at her hand for a moment. “I can play that game, too.”
“I haven’t had sex in two years, so I’m not past doing it in a car,” he said. There was no control when it came Kara. He wanted her, and he was going to have her. If not right now, then tomorrow, or the next day. He’d deal with the consequences later.
“I have to go.” She pushed him back, then climbed into her truck.
“Before you pull up to the hotel, you might want to fix your shirt. I managed to unbutton one or two again.”
“Two Houdini’s in the family. Great.”
“Just horny,” he said. “Drive safe. Text me when you get into your room, okay?”
She nodded. “Sleep well.”
“Only if you join me in my dreams.”
Chapter 14
“I’D SAY THAT WAS A WASTE of a Sunday afternoon,” Kara said. She snagged her coat out of Shane’s car. “All we found out was that, in one soccer game, a father on Emily’s team was tossed for being abusive toward Gregory.”
“Not abusive,” Shane said, picking up her small portable filing case. “He threatened Gregory bodily harm, and it’s interesting that it was Cleary who escorted that father, Brad Johnson, off the field.”
“And Cleary stated he doesn’t remember the game. Said that lots of times parents were ejected from games for being assholes.” Kara used her key card to get into the back entrance of the Holiday Inn Express, letting Shane go in first.
“Cleary was really drunk this afternoon,” Shane said. “I don’t think he knows what day it is.”
Her room was only five in from the back door. Her hand trembled slightly as she put the plastic key into the slot, pulling it out as soon as the lock clicked. She held the door open for Shane, grateful she’d let the maids clean this morning. Normally she’d go a couple of days without using the service. She didn’t like her things messed with, but she’d been in the room too long. It needed cleaning. “We need him to sober up before going in front of the press.”
“He will.” Shane set her files on the desk.
“Put them on that bed,” Kara said. “Did Mrs. Cleary read the journals?” Kara asked as she kicked her shoes off into the closet, then secured her weapon and hung up her coat. The room was your typical standard two-queen room. She always got two beds. One for her work, one to sleep in. She fluffed the pillow on the bed where Shane had dropped her case, then sat down, opening the files and placing them on the bed.
“She did.” Shane sat in the chair at the desk, putting his feet on the bed while he leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Had quite the talk with her while you were going over the press conference with Cleary.”
“And?”
“She acted stunned,” he said. “But she never looked me in the eye. I think they both knew but didn’t want to know.”
Kara nodded, tossing the files to the side. “Soccer right now is the only thing that connects all the victims.”
“What did Cleary say about giving the press conference?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “I didn’t give him the details, just told him to show up tomorrow at 9am, sober. That we needed his help.”
“I hope this works,” Shane said.
“So do I,” she said. “Anything from the M.E.?”
He shook his head. “I think we need a break. A good night’s sleep and then come back at this fresh in the morning.”
“I suppose you need to go.” Her heart hammered in her chest. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave.
His feet hit the floor as he glanced at his watch. He was going to leave. She sucked in a deep breath. She had to be okay with his decision. Even though things had gotten out of hand last night on his sofa, and later in text messages, he had a son he needed to get home to. He stood, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulled out his keys. Tossing them on the desk, he took his sport coat off and carefully hung it on the back of the chair. He removed his weapon next, carefully checking the chamber, and then set it on the desk.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as he moved between the two beds, pulling what appeared to be his wallet out of his pants pocket, and then his phone out of the back pocket, and set them on the nightstand. “I don’t need to be anywhere for a couple of hours,” he said. His voice was husky and deep and filled with passion.
Her body tingled when he pushed her feet to the floor and lifted her off the bed. He tugged at her ponytail, pulling the hair band out. “I don’t like it when you wear your hair up.”
“I need to for work.”
“We’re done with work.”
His fingers glided through her hair as it fell just past her shoulders. She shuddered as he traced his forefinger from the side of her earlobe, down her neck, to her cleavage. He smiled. “Your body always does that when I do this.” He retraced the path. Her eyelids grew heavy and, once again, her body trembled slightly.
She pressed the back of her hand against his stomach, her fingertips sliding just inside his pants, her thumb wiggling at his belt buckle.
He batted her hand away.
She cocked her head and reached for him again, but this time he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Not yet,” he whispered.
With his eyes on hers, he unbuttoned her blouse. She dug her fingers into his strong shoulder blades while reaching for him with her other hand.
“Nope.�
�� He grabbed her wrist. “I’ve got cuffs if we need to go that route.”
“So do I,” she said.
“That’s not going to happen.” He draped her other hand on his shoulder while he pulled her blouse out of her pants, then rolled the shirt over her shoulders, but she wasn’t about to move her arms now. “This is coming off,” he said.
She batted her eyes. “But you put my hands here.” She squeezed his shoulders. “And here they will stay.”
He reached out and unsnapped her bra.
“Whoa.” She jumped as her hands dropped to her sides, then they were yanked backwards as Shane pulled her blouse all the way to her wrists. Her bra straps fell off her shoulders. He held her arms behind her back with one hand and smiled triumphantly. She thought about squirming, but then opted to enjoy watching him look her up and down. His free hand cupped her breast. His thumb gently traced a tiny circle over her hard nipple. She leaned into him, wanting more and more, but he continued to keep his touch feather-light.
“Let my arms go.” She wiggled. Her breasts burned for his touch, her panties wet with anticipation.
He leaned over and sucked her nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, increasing the pressure on the other one with his fingers. Even when they’d been new lovers, they knew how to instinctively please the other. He had always liked to tease her. Make her desperate to have him.
She was already desperate, and he’d barely begun.
He released her hands, but the buttons on her sleeves made it impossible to shed her shirt. “Get this thing off me.”
He ran his tongue across her nipple, up her chest, kissing her neck. “Having difficulties?” he murmured, rubbing his thumb across her lips.
She’d freed one of her wrists by popping the button with a swift yank, and was close to freeing the other one. “There,” she said as the button flew across the room. She dropped the shirt and her bra to the floor. “Two can play at this game.” She shoved him, a little too hard, and he tumbled back onto the bed. She straddled him before he had a chance to move. She started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands kept coming up, toying with her nipples, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the buttons. She adjusted herself slightly, positioning herself in the perfect spot, grinding her hips ever so gently.