by CJ Ellisson
Brock nodded. Trent followed her out of the building. God, she hoped she got something from Richard Thompson.
Trent marched to the Jeep beside her. Once inside she turned to look at him, knowing he’d been dying to say something. “OK, what is it?”
She thought he might be ready to yell at her over what she had almost done, and her hackles rose. But instead he cupped her face and kissed her on the lips.
“I know it’s driving you crazy to see all these dead girls and not be able to figure out who did it.” He slid his thumb over her jaw, back and forth. “Especially since you have to see what you do all the time, but you need to remember that in order to find this guy you have to stay ahead of him. You can’t do something that will muddle your brain and stop you from thinking clearly. Or something that will jeopardize the case or the evidence.”
Her heartbeat quickened to a loud gallop in her chest. He shifted, ready to sit back on his seat, when she gripped his T-shirt. She yanked him back toward her. Why she did it, she didn’t know. She kissed him with all the pent-up desire she’d been feeling for him, with all the frustration she knew filled her brain. He just sat there and drank it all in. It was the most therapeutic kiss of her entire life.
Anger and frustration melted away with the soft swipes of his tongue over hers. His hands cupped her face and gently caressed her cheeks. The kiss went from hard and fast to slow and seductive in the blink of an eye. She sighed into the softer kiss. Emotions ran rampant inside her, unlocking doors that she’d never opened for any other man.
Trent propelled back, away from her. His features softened into a warm smile, a smile that spoke of a lot of things, all of which made it hard for her to swallow. But he didn’t say any more, just sat back and started driving, leaving her to try and figure out what the hell she was going to do about him. Emotions were messy. Did she want to try? Was it possible he wanted something long-term? A soft sigh escaped her. She wouldn’t dwell on that now there was a killer to catch.
* * *
They had just parked by Richard Thompson’s apartment building when Erica’s phone rang.
“Villa.” She didn’t recognize the number on the screen.
“Hey, it’s Donovan.”
Erica glanced at her phone’s screen again. “This isn’t your usual number, Donovan.”
Her teammate laughed. “I know. I’m testing a new phone and decided to try it on you. Listen, I’m calling to tell you about Richard Thompson. Brock said you guys were going to interview him.”
She glanced up at the five-story building. If she went by its appearance, Richard Thompson was another wealthy boy. “Yeah, we’re outside his apartment building now.”
“Ok, well you guys be careful. He’s a known marijuana dealer and will most likely try to run if he thinks you’re there to arrest him.”
“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll let Trent know, and we’ll be on guard.” She shut off the phone. Unsnapping her holster, she pulled out her gun. Trent did the same. “Thompson is a drug dealer, which is probably why everyone in the school is friends with him on Facebook.” One tug on the door handle and she was able to hop out of the Jeep. Moments later Trent rushed around the vehicle, catching up with her before heading to the entrance, each gripping their weapons.
Trent nodded as they made their way into the building. “Makes sense. There’s nobody that popular unless something else is in the mix.” He grinned and winked at her. “At least, guys aren’t usually that popular.”
Opting for the stairs, since Thompson lived in the second level, they took note of the exits. When they reached Thompson’s door, Erica pulled her tank top low, until it showed a major amount of cleavage. Then she knocked, arching her back to push her breasts out some more. She knew Trent watched her, so she smiled slyly at him and pursed her lips in an air kiss. A moment later the kid known as Thompson opened the door, and his gaze immediately dropped down to Erica’s rack.
“Hi,” she whispered, moving a foot to block the door from getting closed. But it was unnecessary; the kid’s eyes were stuck on her breasts. “Are you Ricky?”
“Who’s…ah, who’s asking?” His eyes hadn’t moved up from her boobs. She could have turned out to be a man, and he wouldn’t have noticed. “My friend Melissa spoke about him to me.” Her voice lowered. “She told me I could come see him, and he could get me something to help me relax.” She hoped her voice sounded sexy enough.
Thompson opened the door a little wider to get a better look at her. Erica and Trent used that moment to hold the door open, though neither attempted to force their way into the apartment.
“Hey! What the—”
“You have two choices, kid. You talk to us now, or we can wait here and call the nice guys from Narcotics to come join in the party.”
The kid let go of the door, his eyes darting all over the place as if ready to make a run for it.
Before he had a chance to move a muscle, Trent had him by the neck. He shoved him further into the apartment and down on a chair.
“What the hell do you want?” Thompson yelled, fighting Trent’s grip. Unfortunately for him, Trent was big, strong, and unfazed by his escape attempts.
Trent snarled at Thompson. “Look, we have some questions. We’re not here about your little operation. But like I said, if you prefer we can sit here and wait for Narcotics to come over and have a nice chat with you…”
The kid gave a quick shake of his head.
“I thought you’d see it my way. We need to know about some murder victims you were acquainted with. And we need to ask you some questions to see what you know and also rule you out as a suspect. Can you sit there without trying to leave?”
Thompson nodded and glanced up at Erica with big, frightened eyes. She stepped toward him, holding out her hand.
“I’m agent Villa, FBI.” By the looks of him she knew he wasn’t the killer, but she needed to make sure.
The kid hesitated for a moment, but Trent’s gun still pointing his way must have intimidated him enough to move. Thompson lifted a shaky hand and enveloped hers. Other than the kid having a very cold skin, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She wanted to yell in frustration.
“Did you know Lisa Summers, Gina Torres, and Melanie Lee?” She sat across from Thompson.
Thompson gulped. It shocked her to see that the popular dealer resembled a snotty little kid. If he was one hundred pounds she’d be shocked.
“How old was he?” She didn’t realize she’d asked the question out loud until he answered.
“I’m seventeen.”
Her disbelief must’ve shown because he continued. “I’m in an early college program.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re a smart kid. Really smart from the looks of it. You get into college much earlier than most people, and you decide to ruin your chances of succeeding by selling weed?” Trent growled.
Thompson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well not everyone is a chick magnet or Mr. Popularity. I did what I had to. You don’t know what it’s like to have to worry about everyone wanting to pick on you if you don’t have something going for you. I wasn’t going to be the kid everyone picked on in high school and then in college too.”
Trent clenched his jaw and appeared ready to argue with the boy, but Erica stopped him with her question. “Did you know those girls?”
Thompson glanced down at his lap, folding and unfolding his thin fingers. “Yes.”
“How did you know them?” She prodded.
The boy’s skin had turned a deep shade of red from either embarrassment or anger. She’d guess embarrassment from the way his reedy frame shook. His T-shirt looked two sizes too big, and his glasses overwhelmed his small face. She almost felt bad for him. Almost.
Thompson gulped, lifted his head, and gaped at Erica, fear clear in his gaze. “I sold a guy they dated some stuff. Derek Holmes. He always came with a different girl.”
Always back to Holmes. “What about other guys, did you see any of them with an
yone else?”
Richard shook his head. “Sometimes Derek and the girls came with his brother, but mostly it was just him and whoever he was dating.”
Erica’s frustration had to have shown on her face, because Trent moved beside her, grabbed her hand, and held it for a moment. She turned to him, but he was focused on Thompson.
Trent sighed. “Look kid, I know fitting in is hard.”
Thompson curled his lip, his eyes filled with disbelief.
“Yeah, I do know. When I was your age I looked just like you, probably worse since I had four older sisters who tried to make me look like their version of cool. But then I hit a growth spurt, and I filled out. The thing is you can’t lower your standards just to make friends. You lose part of yourself if you do.”
Erica stood, and they strolled to the door. She stopped just shy of the threshold and turned to the boy. “We’re not going arrest you…this time. But if you don’t want to be reported and kicked out of this school, you will get rid of whatever merchandise you have and stop the sales,” she ordered, her tone firm. “I’m coming back to check on you, and I’m not giving you advance notice.”
Thompson darted over to his desk drawer, pulled out a plastic bag filled with his product, and ran back to them. He handed the bag over to Trent.
“Don’t worry,” he said, glancing from Trent to Erica. “I’m done. It was giving me ulcers to sell that stuff anyway. I was always worried I’d get found out.”
To drive home the importance of what he had done, Erica lifted a brow, wiping any and all concern from her features. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Normally I’d have kicked your ass, arrested you, and then told your parents. I hope you don’t give me a reason to still do that.”
Thompson’s pale face got a shade lighter, and he hunched in on himself.
She was of the belief that sometimes you needed to scare the crap out of some people for them to realize the dumb shit they were doing.
Outside the building Trent grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. “What was that for?”
“You’re so hot when you get bitchy.” He grinned and kissed her again.
It took a moment for her to absorb what he’d said. When she did she growled at him. “Asshole.”
He chuckled. “No baby, I prefer pussy, but if you really want to try I’ll give it a go.”
She couldn’t stay angry when he always came back with some sexual response. He was incorrigible.
While they drove, her mind focused on what was left. She needed to touch something of Melanie Lee’s, and she hoped to be able to see more than with the previous two victims. Things were moving too slow for her liking. To top it off, she now had Trent and how he made her feel to worry about. Life didn’t seem to get any simpler for her.
“Stop thinking so hard.” He squeezed her hand over her lap. She glanced his way and caught him smiling. “I can see your brain trying to figure out how to handle me.”
The nerve of the man. OK, so maybe that’s exactly what she’d been doing, but he didn’t need to point it out. “Yeah? And what do you suggest I do?”
“Just go with the flow.” He grinned and went back to focusing on the road. He was right. She’d have to wait and see what he was about before she stopped having sex with him.
By the time they finished their visit with Thompson it was late. Erica was tired and hungry, and she could only assume Trent was too. Her phone rang just as she contemplated stopping for a bite to eat.
“Hi, Brock.”
“Villa. Everything OK?”
She sighed. “All is still the same.”
Silence met her words. “I want you both back here. We’ll debrief and see where we stand. It’s late anyway.”
When they got there, Donovan was setting food on the table.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t cook,” she joked. Everyone in the department knew Donovan couldn’t cook worth a damn. She’d tried to bring things when they had potlucks but her food always went uneaten. She was such a good sport she’d never taken offense but continued to try whenever the opportunity presented itself. The woman was certainly persistent. Too bad she sucked at it.
“So if you’re not poisoning us, er…I mean if you didn’t make this, where did it come from?” Trent grinned and grabbed a biscuit.
Donovan slapped his other hand when he went for a piece of chicken. “Remember the lady you guys went to visit, where Gina Torres lived?”
“Ms. Lipkin?” Erica laughed when Ramirez went to grab a roll, only to get smacked much harder than necessary by Jane.
“Yeah. She sent a bunch of food and said ‘she couldn’t have those two handsome young men starving.’” Donovan slapped Ramirez again when he made a second attempt. He pouted like a sulking kid, which made both women laugh.
“Jesus. What is it with you women and violence?” Ramirez complained and sat down, waiting for everyone so they could eat.
“Tell me about it, bro. I’m gonna have to teach Erica to relax or sleep with one eye open. She’s vicious I tell you.” He then dodged a balled napkin Erica threw at him. “See what I mean?”
“Whatever happened to loving and obeying your man?” Ramirez asked, shaking his head.
Erica lifted her brows and glared at Trent. “Whatever happened to shutting your mouth for self-preservation? I thought you wanted to live well into old age? Keep talking.”
“Sweetheart, you know that was all Ramirez,” Trent said and shrugged at Ramirez’s outraged gasp. “Sorry man, but you know how it is. She’s got the goods so she’s in charge.” He used his serious voice.
Erica and Donovan burst into giggles. One thing was for sure, if she decided to try a relationship with Trent, she’d never be bored.
Chapter Ten
Trent winked at Erica and blew her a kiss. Brock chose that moment to walk into the room. “What’s going on?”
He joined them at the table.
“Not much. Trent was just teaching Ramirez how women rule because they have the goods.” Donovan snickered and piled food on her plate.
Trent’s heart soared when Erica grinned at him. He didn’t care how stupid he had to act in order to keep that smile on her face. Now all he needed to do was get her alone and tell her about his not-exactly-human status.
“So what did you find out with Anthony Holmes?” Erica asked Brock while they passed food around the table.
“There was no chance to speak to the kid. Apparently he’s been in some kind of retreat and won’t be back until tomorrow.” Brock took a bite of chicken and hummed. “Jesus. Who made this? And can we hire her for however long we’re here?”
Trent was in agreement. Ms. Lipkin might be an older woman, but she sure knew her way around a kitchen.
“So that’s it? We have to wait? What if someone else dies in the meantime?” Erica’s voice hitched. “Do we just let the bodies pile one on top of the other? I have to…no, I need to figure this out.”
She sat rigid in the chair, frowning at her plate.
Trent heard the words she didn’t say. That it was going drive her crazy to keep seeing those deaths and not put whoever did it behind bars. The scent of her frustration and fear mingled and made his animal pace inside him.
“We all want to stop whoever this killer is, Villa,” Ramirez added.
Erica turned to Donovan. “Have there been any finger print matches from the first two victims to anyone on the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System?”
Donovan shook her head and sipped her tea. “Whoever did this isn’t in IAFIS. If we can get a definite lead on someone, we could get more prints tested. Some prints were pulled Gina’s body, but none of the ones from Lisa were prints we could use.”
“And have we gotten anything we can use from Gina?” Her voice was soft yet demanding.
“No. We did get some DNA samples to put through CODIS from Gina. Even with a rush, the lab takes seventy-two hours to get a DNA code, and then it takes at least twenty-four more hours to put that throu
gh our system.” Donovan sighed. “If we go by that we won’t be looking at results until another two to three days at the minimum.”
Trent eyed Erica. She clenched and released her fists on her lap, next to him. He wiped his hands on a napkin and curled his fingers over hers. Satisfaction spread through him when she leaned closer and opened her hand so that he could link their fingers together.
“When the other Holmes kid shows up you question him, Villa,” Brock knew as much as Trent that she had to see both of the Holmes boys. “Thankfully the father’s lawyer said he’d get the kid to come meet with us as soon as he returns.”
The rest of the meal passed in a blur, and soon they were headed to their rooms. Trent had a feeling Erica would try to shut him out again, so he took the lead and waited for her by the door to her bedroom.
“Trent…” She sighed. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s go to bed, love.” He tugged her into the room and shut the door.
There was confusion and vulnerability in her eyes. He held her in his arms and kissed her. Her hands crawled up to his shoulders, stroking him over his T-shirt. She dug her nails into his biceps while rubbing her body over his. Using sex to convince her into a relationship would never work, but he hoped it would at least soften her up enough to allow her to consider it.
“Trent—”
“Shhh. Stop thinking so hard, sweetheart. It’s time to relax your mind.”
He undressed her and himself. They made their way into the bathroom. They kissed in the tub while water ran over their bodies. Trent used the loofah to wash Erica, sliding the soft spongy material over her curves. Afterward she took it out his hand to return the favor. She ran her hands down his body, tracing his muscles, until she reached his cock. Arousal electrified his brain cells and powered down his veins. His breath caught in his lungs. He was hungry for a taste of her. She jerked him in her hand, squeezing him from root to tip. He groaned, his vision fixating on her, staring at her pink tongue twirling circles over his nipple. Her hold on his cock tightened into a perfect grip.