Courting Death

by Carol Stephenson

  Like an artist he would be absorbing every nuance the crime scene painted, processing the information. Then as a hunter he would pursue every clue, every twist and turn the evidence would take him.

  Nature might churn out those who preyed on the innocent, but it also produced those who served to protect. The band of pressure eased. Sam would never give up, nor should I.

  He turned his head and zeroed in on me immediately. A slow wink sent a shimmer of electricity racing through me. Then he jerked his head in a signal for me to go. Smartly, I snapped a salute but instead of smiling, Sam pulled out his phone. Moments later mine rang.

  “Yes?” Oh man, my voice sounded breathless.

  “You owe me that long, slow kiss, Red. Prepare to ante up tonight.”

  As I watched, my knees too weak to risk my taking a step, he blew me a kiss, hung up and then turned back to the crime scene. Damn. All I could think about was his clever mouth feasting on mine.

  Or vice versa.

  I knew he would come. Wearing a silk nightie under a thick, white terry cloth robe, I sat curled up on the sofa in the dark. Mom and Melissa had gone to bed, and the house was silent. When his pickup pulled up in front, I rose, slid on slippers and crossed to the door. Quietly, I opened and closed it behind me.

  As I walked down the drive, Sam ambled around the truck and leaned against the fender of the passenger side. My feet took flight and suddenly I was running to him. He opened his arms and gathered me close. His body radiated strength, warmth and security. I buried my face against his chest and for a few moments cherished being held.

  “Sam, what’s going on? First Depp and now Hassenfeld are dead.”

  He ran a comforting hand along my back. “I’m not sure, honey. The car that hit Hassenfeld was stolen. We found it abandoned and wiped clean in a parking lot a few blocks away. We’re checking the area for any security cameras. According to hospital staff, Hassenfeld received a phone call and said he had to leave.”

  Sam continued to stroke my spine. “It could be someone panicked and is cutting off any loose ends.”

  I lifted my face. “But why now? The Whitman incident couldn’t have thrown that big of a monkey wrench in an operation of this size. All they had to do was to suspend activity for a while until the heat was off and then pick up right where they left off.”

  Sam’s breath feathered my face. My skin tingled and the rest of my body tightened in response. “They probably were rattled because an avenging angel by the name of Nicole Sterling asked one too many questions.”

  “Me?” I almost squeaked as his hand cupped my bottom. He widened his stance and pressed me until his erection nestled against the crux of my sex. I burned with need.

  “Hush.” He lowered his head and nipped at my lips. “Don’t want to wake the neighborhood.” He nuzzled my forehead. “I don’t know about the bad guys, but you make me want to sink to my knees every time I see you in one of those prissy business suits and high heels.”

  Sam tightened his hold and I splayed my hands across his chest. Arousal gleamed in his obsidian eyes. “Of course, no one else had better ever think of doing to you what I dream of every night.”

  His touch unleashed a dark thrill of yearning, and the cover of night made me reckless. For once I didn’t want to think about consequences, I simply wanted to live in the moment. I rocked my hips against him, seeking to cradle his erection.

  I wondered if he realized we were about to push past the remnants of our former relationship and hurl ourselves off the precipice to the unknown.

  With a growl low in his throat, he kissed me. Hot, hard and furious. He tasted impossibly of man and sex. Desire whipped through me, immediate and hungry. When had his touch gained such power over me?

  I tugged his shirt loose and ran my hands over the silky hair covering his taut abdomen. Sam hissed, muttered a short oath and untied my robe. He slid his hand under the nightie.

  “Christ, Red. You’re not wearing any panties. Do you know how hot that makes me?”

  My system hit flash point and brain cells melded when he kneaded my flesh. Then he slid a finger into my cleft, ripping a moan from my throat.

  “Wrap your legs around me, honey,” he ordered in a harsh whisper. I complied, bring us center to center. The world shifted as he turned holding me and opened the truck’s rear door. My bare bottom met the leather seat. I released my death grip on Sam long enough to scoot backward. He followed, pausing only long enough to shut the door.

  Then he covered me, his weight crushing me into the cushion. He slid the robe off my shoulders and then lowered the gown’s thin straps. He hooked a forefinger in the V of the nightie and drew it down exposing my breasts. The chilled night air cooled my heated flesh only for a moment before Sam planted open-mouth kisses along my throat across my chest.

  I threaded my fingers through his thick hair and urged him on.

  The rasp of his tongue tortured first one nipple and then the other into exquisite points. He slid his hand between our bodies and cupped me.

  “You’re so hot, wet and ready for me.”

  Desperate, I reached down trying to find the front of his jeans and nipped his shoulder. “And I need you to be as ready.”

  Sam’s teeth flashed in the dark. “Yes, ma’am.” He levered himself up, allowing me to fumble with the button and zipper. His rigid length distracted me and I had to run my hand over it.

  “Damn it, honey,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “Quit playing around or I’ll never make it.”

  “Then hurry.” Victory was mine when the zipper came down and I could fill my hands with Sam’s erection.

  “Don’t want to play fair, do you?” He maneuvered to the edge of the seat, reached into the jeans’ pocket and removed a foil packet.

  “Came prepared?”

  “Hey, I worked the cattle range as a boy and college student. You learned to carry everything you need for survival.”

  Jealousy flared in me. “Found that many hot cowgirls in the wild?” God, my voice sounded downright prissy.

  He grinned. “There’s only one woman I’m interested in and she’s lying scalding hot in my arms right now.” He reached between my legs, moistened a finger, and rubbed the sensitive nub. The spiraling tension inside me tightened.

  “Damn it, Sam. Get your pants off.” I reared up and helped him pull down the pants and briefs over his slim hips. With a quick move he rolled a condom on. Then he lowered himself and seized my mouth in a scorching, open-mouthed kiss.

  I ached for him. I sank my fingers into the straining muscles of his shoulders and hooked my legs around his hips, opening myself totally to him. He broke off the kiss and raised his head. “Look at me, Nicole.”

  His gaze locked with mine, he thrust into me. Again and again so deeply that I thought he would touch my heart. I heard low moans and realized the sounds were coming from me. Then everything inside me tightened and I shattered. With one last thrust Sam stiffened with a low harsh groan and carried me with him into that heady fall.

  Long minutes later Sam nuzzled my neck. “I don’t know about you, but my butt is freezing.”

  I gave him a light slap across his bare cheeks. In response he pumped his hips against me once. My core throbbed, ready to have at it again.

  “Like things a bit rough, do you?” His eyes hooded, Sam nipped my lower lip and then soothed it with a gentle flip of his tongue. “I’ll have to remember that.

  “However—” he dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose as he withdrew from my body, “—truck sex, while decidedly hot, can’t accommodate what I want to do with you the next time.”

  Sam pushed up too quickly and cracked his head on the roof. “Shit.”

  I laughed, bracing myself on my elbows. The laugh died as he stared down at me. I thought I would melt under the passion of his gaze. “Damn, you’re beautiful, Red.”

  His hands trembled as he gathered the edges of my robe closed across my breasts. Then he sat on the edge so I could swing my legs
to the floor. After we had righted ourselves, Sam opened the door and helped me down. The sharp edge of the wind set my teeth to chattering and I wrapped my arms around myself. I spotted my slippers on the sidewalk where I’d kicked them in my mindless dash. I slid them on.

  Sam leaned close and took my mouth. His kiss was hard, fast, hot. “Get inside before you freeze that delicious butt off.”

  He broke free and circled around to the driver’s side. I waited until he was inside the truck and tapped on the passenger window. He rolled it down and scowled at me. “Are you nuts? You’ll catch a cold.”

  “Have you ever played cop and suspect?”

  Disbelief chased across his face before he threw his head back and laughed. “And to think what those lawyer suits have been hiding all this time.” He opened the glove compartment. The low glow of the light glinted off the metal bracelets heaped inside.

  “Anytime, anywhere, Red.”

  I lifted a brow. “So long as I get to play the cop.”

  “I’d surrender to you in a heartbeat.” He rolled up the window, pointed toward my house.

  I slowly walked up the drive. At the door I turned as I heard the low roar of the truck driving away. Sex with Sam had been everything I’d ever imagined and more.

  It had been life affirming. For a few minutes I’d been wrapped up only in his essence and it had been good.

  So good.

  Chapter Ten

  Monday morning I gingerly made my way from the parking lot into the office. That energetic session with Sam in the back seat of his truck had left me with more than a few sore muscles. However, the inner glow hadn’t faded. As I walked along the bank of offices, Carling stood outside hers, speaking with Maria.

  “Good morning.” I gave them a bright smile and hurried on. If I was lucky…

  “Not so fast, Sterling.” Carling made a fist and pounded on Kate’s door. “Rochelle, shake a leg in there. Nicole and Sam have done the dirty deed.”

  Sighing, I entered my office and set my briefcase and purse on the floor by the desk. I sat in my chair and watched in resignation as my partners hurried in. “Do you mind closing the door?”

  Kate paused only to tug the door closed even as several staff members began to gather outside. Then she hurried over to a chair, sat and neatly smoothed her skirt as she crossed her legs. Her sharp blue eyes studied me and she nodded. “Carling’s right.”

  “What?” My voice croaked as I glanced down. “Am I wearing a blazing neon sign announcing I’ve had sex?”

  Carling grinned. “No, but you’re wearing the expression of a woman who’s been thoroughly pleasured.”

  As I thought of how thoroughly, my cheeks warmed. “Where’s Melissa?” Last thing I wanted was my half sister in on this conversation. She had left for the office early this morning to get set up under Carling’s supervision. I’d waited for Sophie before departing.

  “I’ve set her up in a cubicle.” Carling waved her hand. “She’s already researching case law for a motion I need to file.”

  “Now, no more delaying tactics.” She leaned back and stretched out her legs. “We want every last juicy detail.”

  “There’s nothing really to say. Hassenfeld was killed last night—”

  Kate looked puzzled. “As in Dr. Hassenfeld at Oceanview Medical Center?”

  “One and the same. After Claire Whitman’s first appearance, I went over to the hospital to dig around again for the records. However, I was too late. When I arrived, someone with a car had mowed Hassenfeld down.”

  “Don’t tell me.” Carling cocked her head. “Sam was one of the investigating officers.”

  “Yes.”

  “There goes your body count up another notch.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway. He came by later to check on me and one thing led to another.”

  Carling waggled her eyebrows. “Living room, kitchen or bedroom?”

  “None of the above.”

  “None?” My partners exchanged glances.

  “Nope.” I cleared my throat and dropped the bombshell. “Sam’s truck.”

  I almost pumped my fist at the stunned expressions on their faces. Carling recovered first. “You had truck sex?”

  “Yes.”

  “Front seat or back?”

  “Back.”

  “At least there’s a little more room, but still kind of cramped for getting it on.”

  Kate made a low humming noise in her throat. “Quiet, Carling. If you haven’t experienced truck sex, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Carling grinned. “Likewise if you haven’t done it in a Lexus. The main problem is the leather road rash afterwards.”

  “Not if you’re on top.”

  “Ladies.” I clamped my hands over my ears. “Way too much information this early in the morning. How about discussing the shattered remains of my case?”

  Carling said in a loud conspiratorial whisper to Kate. “Sam must have been off the Richter scales in the love making department.”

  “We didn’t make love, we had brain-exploding sex,” I corrected. Liar.

  Both women sat back with smug smiles. Before either could speak, I held up my hand. “Seriously, with both Depp and Hassenfeld killed, I’m literally at a dead end.”

  Kate frowned. “But as horrible as the circumstances are, that’s actually good for the case. The two key witnesses who might have provided evidence against Claire are dead.”

  “There’s something else you don’t know about Mom’s spell on Saturday.” I rose, rummaged in the purse and pulled out my cell that I had recorded the message on. “I found out someone threatened her.” I played it and watched the amusement flee from both my friends’ faces, only to be replaced by outrage.

  When the recording ended, Kate shook her head. “That’s plain sick, Nicole.”

  I placed the phone on the desk and crossed to the eraser board I had set up on a stand tucked in the corner of the office. “Hassenfeld had a sick sense of humor, but how did he find out about my mother’s condition? I never even told Sam about it until last week.”

  Picking up a marker, I tapped it against the board. “If it was Hassenfeld trying to scare me off again—”

  “Again?” Kate asked.

  “I have to assume it was he who knocked me out at the hospital. He had the body strength to load me into the drawer.”

  Kate shook her head. “I wouldn’t make that assumption yet, even though it might give you peace of mind. A woman with help could have managed it.”

  A dim memory stirred. “You’re right. At one point I thought I heard voices raised in argument.” I drew a question mark under the column I’d made for the hospital. I had already listed the administrator’s and pathologist’s names.

  “A diversion.” Carling straightened.

  “What?”

  “The call. What if someone did know about Annette’s condition? What better way to distract you than to push her mentally into the deep end?”

  My fingers tightened around the marker. “All my other cases right now are pretty standard, your bread-and-butter thefts, assaults and DUIs. The only unusual case is the Whitman one.”

  Kate shook her head. “Ladies, don’t go zooming in on one tree yet. Let’s linger on the forest for motive a while longer.”

  “What else is there?”

  She rose, walked over to me and grabbed the red marker. In big letters she wrote one word: Revenge.

  “Your role in the discovery at the funeral home was all over the news, Nicole,” Kate said in a quiet tone. “Anyone you prosecuted in the past or was unhappy with your representation could have made the call.”

  I stared at her. “Damn, the list of suspects could be in the thousands, and I can’t access my files at the state attorney’s.”

  “We can have Melissa go through our files and compile a list of possible disgruntled clients since we started the firm. The court docket is gradually going online, so we can have her review and pull together the informat
ion on your prosecutions.”

  “Besides,” Carling interjected, “if I know you, you’ve maintained notes on many of those cases at home.”

  “Okay, so we set Melissa to Dumpster diving into my past files.” I turned my attention back to the board. “Now all I have to do is find a thread on the organ ring to follow. I read up on a few of the ones that have been busted in other states.”

  I began making notes on the board. “The ring needs a source of supply, which are the hospitals, morgues, crematories and funeral homes. Normal incentive is financial. One ring paid a thousand dollars a body.” I drew another column.

  “Then they recruit what are called ‘cutters,’ people who remove the tissue and bones. Those people would need some medical knowledge, but could be nurses or paramedics. By the way, it turns out the ice cream truck driver, Joe Poellinger, had been a medic in the military, discharged for dishonorable conduct. However—” I tapped the board, “—the organs would have to be removed when the person is alive or just expired to be viable. My bet is the ring has doctors on the take.”

  Kate studied the board. “Doctors make a lot of money. I can’t imagine the pay being high enough to take the risk.”

  I thought of Hassenfeld and his divorce. “Not all are plush and there can be other motivating factors such as blackmail.”

  “Good point.”

  “Then there is a collection and distribution point where the ‘merchandise’ is sold. They need refrigerators and freezers.”

  Carling appeared beside us and grabbed a marker. She scrawled legitimate corporation? and then delivery company. “Unless they’re a strictly online or overseas market operation, they must be selling to medical research facilities and other places in need of bone and tissue. That means they’re dealing in the guise of a legitimate enterprise right under the nose of federal regulation.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. She grinned. “You’re not the only one who can research. If they’re shipping, then they have to be using one of the delivery companies.”