Once inside, she surveyed the apartment. The decor matched that in the homes of the first three victims. Ultra modern, with glass and chrome, black lacquer. She wrinkled her nose. Definitely not her style. It might be bright, clean, and chic by an interior designer’s standards, but to her it was way too sterile.
The apartment had two bedrooms, one of which was set up as a combination office/guest room. Perfect for her since it would give her somewhere to work. The rest of the apartment was comfortably sized. A moderate living room and eat-in kitchen with all new appliances. Big enough to have some friends over, but not so large as to require her constant attention to keep it in order.
Connie wasn’t going to hold the cold decor against it. Not when there were so many other pluses.
It was near the victims’ haunts. That also put it only one block from Ocean Drive and the beach. She loved both.
She dragged her belongings to the bedroom and quickly put her things away. In the office/guest bedroom, she set up her laptop and found both a cable running to the the condo’s Internet connection as well as a wireless router. To be more secure, she connected the cable to her laptop, surfed over to her e-mail, checked for any messages, and then shut it all down again.
When she returned to the living room, with its large side-to-side opening windows, the sun was bright. If she looked just right from the windows on the side street, she could see a sliver of Ocean Drive and Lummus Park. The sun glinted in the distance and she realized with delight she could see the ocean as well.
Connie slid the window open and inhaled deeply, tasting the tang of the salt breeze. She had so missed that while away at the academy. She was lucky to be able to have it again, even if because of such grim reasons. She was happy to be home in Miami, she thought, hugging her arms around herself and leaning on the metal sill of the window.
In the distance, she could see in-line skaters down on the path in Lummus Park. In the other direction on Collins, cars cruised up and down the fairly busy avenue. Connie would have lingered longer, but the phone began to ring. Only her family and her partner Jeff had the number for the apartment.
She rushed to the table and grabbed the receiver. “Hello,” she said a trifle breathlessly.
“Hey, Connie. All settled in?” Jeff greeted.
“All done. When are the techies moving in?” she asked, referring to the FBI agents who would wire the condo for sound and video.
“Monday morning after you come to work they’ll let themselves in and get everything set up and tested.”
“I guess I have a couple of days off to scope out the area.” She would take the time to check out the clubs and go over her profile of the suspect, but that would still give her a good amount of free time.
“Yep. See you first thing Monday in the a.m. In the meantime, try to relax, unwind. The next few weeks are going to be murder.”
Connie blanched at his words, but tried to make light of it. “Not literally, I hope.”
He chuckled again, but then turned solemn. “You’ll do fine. I’ll be watching your back.”
“Okay. How’s our backup?”
He was quiet for too long before answering, “Sanchez is great and can’t wait to watch your butt. Nothing personal meant, mind you.”
Connie chuckled. “Nothing personal taken. What about Stone?” she asked more seriously.
“I’ve read Stone the riot act about playing nice while on this assignment.”
She groaned and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Great. I’m sure that went over well. Are you certain Stone is the right person for this?” After all, he would probably like nothing more than to see her fall flat on her ass, she thought.
“I’ll keep him in line. Remember, I take care of my partners.” Someone called to Jeff in the background. “Good night, Connie. The kids need me to help finish their science project.”
“Take care, Jeff. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
She hung up the phone and returned to the window. Activity continued along the main drags and the side streets. It would be another hour or two until it quieted down, for a little while at least. Just for the time it took for many of the beachgoers to nap, shower off the salt and sand of the ocean, and get ready for some serious partying. Although Connie loved the activity that generated, she hated the excesses of some of the revelers.
She took one last look along the avenue, then closed her eyes and pictured a slightly different view, namely the one from Victor’s parents’ home. She should call him. Apologize for the other night and explain why she couldn’t see him right now.
Coward, she chastised. She could see him, if only she made the call. Even if she couldn’t bring herself to ask him over, the call was the least he deserved for standing him up the other night. With growing determination, she went back in, grabbed her cell phone, and dialed his private number.
The phone rang, once, twice, and she hesitated. She was about to end the call when he answered with a breathless, “Hello.”
The sound of his voice sent a wave of warmth across her. “Hi, Victor. How are you?” she asked and walked back by the window. The sun blinded her and it was easier to forget who she was. Who he was and all that separated them.
“I didn’t expect you to call.” His tone was curt, almost cold. She didn’t blame him.
“I wanted to apologize for keeping you the other night.”
“That’s my job. That’s why you got my bill.”
She wasn’t upset by his hostility. She deserved it. “You’re right. And don’t worry. You’ll get your payment in a few days. I mailed out the check yesterday. Thanks again for everything.”
“Sure. Take care of yourself.”
She lowered the phone, finger poised on the off button when he cursed and shouted her name. She brought the phone to her ear again. “Victor?”
“Yeah, Connie. This is stupid. You know that don’t you?” He seemed more frustrated than angry now. Breathing deeply, she tried to tell herself that this was the prime opportunity to tell him. It was stupid, but also dangerous. Exactly what they both didn’t need. But somehow, the words didn’t come and others tumbled out instead. “I wish this was easier. That I could understand what I want, but everything is happening too fast. My job ….” She took a deep breath, held it, and in a rush admitted, “You.”
“Would it help if I said that I feel the same way? That I wonder what it is about you that drives me crazy? Why I think about you more often than I should?”
She groaned, buried her head in her hand, and the cast bumped against her forehead. She rubbed at the spot and responded, “You’re not making this any easier.”
“I don’t want to,” he said harshly. “I want to make it as difficult for you as it is for me, Con.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Can I see you? Come over so we can talk things out?”
How she wished that was possible. “I’ll be undercover for a few weeks. That’s why I called. I wanted to explain.” Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she wanted him to know the reasons for her distance.
“Are you all right?”
His concern was her undoing. “I’d be better if you were with me. Is that crazy or what?”
“Yes, it is crazy, but you’re not the only one stuck in this insanity,” he admitted ruefully.
“The stakeout starts on Monday.” She added quickly, “I’m free tonight.”
He sighed. “I don’t know how to read these mixed signals, Con. Does that mean you’d like me to come over?”
All her life she had planned out everything she did. She had chosen the logical, cautious, expected path in all things. After all, she was the too serious, too hard-working older sister, intent on conquering the world. A man’s world to boot.
But not tonight, she decided in a moment of epiphany. Tonight she wanted to be guided by her heart and emotion rather than logic. Tonight she wanted the woman she had buried for so long to emerge and take control.
“Con?” he prompted again, and she realize
d she had been silent for some time. She apologized for her distraction and taking a deep breath, finally replied, “Please come over.”
Chapter 10
In less than thirty minutes, Connie had run across the street to a small cafeteria to pick up sandwiches. Next door at the corner grocery, she shopped for an assortment of chips, condiments, necessities, and a chilled bottle of wine. Remembering Carmen’s admonitions weeks ago about using the right precautions, she had also stashed a box of condoms in along with her other purchases, hoping that she would need to be prepared.
She had made the decision to let it happen, to not be a fool and deny the fates. Since the day they had literally run into each other at the Convention Center, a connection had sprung up that her organized, categorized mind couldn’t explain, but couldn’t deny either. All her earlier stonewalling aside, the danger of what she was about to undertake in the next few weeks reminded her that nothing was for always, not in life at least. Better to grab hold of something good when it was staring her right in the face.
She raced back to her apartment, hid the condoms in the bedroom nightstand, then tore through drawers in the unfamiliar kitchen until she located everything she needed. Bright, multi-hued placemats for the glass-topped chrome kitchen table. Flatware and plates. Wine glasses and a corkscrew in one of the upper cabinets.
The doorbell rang and she ran her hands nervously down the sides of her khakis. The cast on her arm snagged against the material. When the doorbell pealed a second time, she answered.
Victor stood there smiling and holding a bouquet of daffodils, and a box from one of her favorite bakeries down on Calle Ocho. “I wasn’t sure what your plans were, so I came prepared.”
So did I, she thought to herself and grinned. She rose on her tiptoes and dropped a quick, hesitant kiss on his cheek. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about the whole seduction thing. “Thank you. I bought some sandwiches and wine. I thought we might eat, hang out, talk.” She clasped and unclasped her hands before her.
Victor met her gaze, confirmed her nervousness, and something else. Her dark coffee-colored eyes were wide and slightly dilated. He knew then she was fighting an internal battle against her need. “Sounds good,” he replied softly, handing her the bouquet to ease them past the moment and to ease himself into the apartment.
She took the box from him as well. “Sorry. I seem to be forgetting my manners lately.”
He followed her into the kitchen where Connie dashed around, trying to locate a vase. After opening a few cabinets, she gave up, and took down an oversized glass, a memento of someone’s night at a local bar. She filled the glass with water and dropped in the daffodils. She brought the flower-filled glass to the table and motioned for him to sit, apologizing all the while. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing fancy. I should have cooked.”
Her tension was palpable and they had to get past it for the night to go anywhere. Especially where he wanted it to go. He came to stand before her and stilled the nervous motion of her hands by grasping them, holding them between their bodies. When he encountered her cast, he ran his fingers along the edge before twining his fingers with hers. “Con …” he started softly, testing the waters. “I’m glad you called. I’m glad you asked me over, so relax.”
She met his gaze, her own shy and tenuous. “I’m glad you came.”
He smiled, reached up, and stroked her cheek. “I was hoping tonight ….” He stopped and struggled for the words, worried she would bolt if he pressed too hard, too fast. “I was hoping we could —”
“Start over fresh?” she finished for him.
Victor considered her comment and shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking we should finish what we started.”
A warm flush traveled across her face and Connie lowered her head to avoid his gaze. “Maybe this,” she said, motioning to the two of them with her hand, “isn’t right.” Despite her earlier confidence in moving their relationship along, she had grown hesitant again.
“Right?” he asked, bending to search her downcast face. “This is more right than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t you feel it too?”
That was the problem. Connie had been feeling it since the first time she had seen him and every time since. Her attraction to him was totally new. The depth of her desire for him totally frightening. She had never been this close to tossing aside every rule she had ever made for herself. How could she explain to him?
“Connie?” he questioned, placed a finger on her chin, and gently urged her face upward.
It was clear he didn’t understand. She had no choice but to try and make him comprehend her reticence. “Victor, this isn’t something I normally just do.” She fumbled for better words. “I want to. At least I thought I did when I called you earlier. But now I’m not sure this would be a good idea. At least, not tonight,” she said in a rush.
“Connie, I don’t really know what to say to that.” He backed away from her, placed his hands on his hips, and then faced the far wall, clearly battling what to do.
“Victor?” she questioned and stepped toward him, laid a hand on the center of his back. Beneath her hand, his muscles flinched and it was as if he was driving a knife into her heart. “I’m sorry, Victor. I never wanted to mislead you.” She moved away from him and toward the living room, needing space.
“Don’t go,” he commanded, whirling around. “Don’t leave until we settle this,” he added more softly, pleadingly.
She stopped in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder at him. “On Monday I have a last briefing for my assignment. Tuesday, I’ll be undercover. What happens then, Victor? What do we do with whatever we start tonight?”
He shook his head, walked to her, and when he reached her, pulled her into his arms. “We make time to call each other. We remember this is something worth keeping and that the time apart won’t change what we feel.”
Connie tried to figure him out the way she had been taught at the academy. She examined him and everything in his face, voice, and body language gave away what he was feeling. She was important to him. Very important. Her heart soared, wanting to respond, but her practical side, the side that reared up again, grounded her wings. “We should be realistic.”
A small sad smile came to his lips. “Why the hesitation, Con?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never had any time before for these kinds of things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Man-woman things. I never learned the little games men and women play. I don’t know how to trust what I’m feeling.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” he joked, but Connie didn’t find it funny and pulled away from him.
“It’s true, Victor. I never had a chance for the fun. For the dances after school or the dates. For the romance.” She stopped short and blew out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think I have time for it now.”
Victor had thought he understood just how driven Connie was. He had underestimated her ambition. “We all make our choices. I missed more than my share of parties. I chose to. And it never stopped me from … well, you know.”
She blushed once more and wrapped her arms around herself to keep from wrapping them around him. “No, I don’t know. For me, there was never enough time. I was too busy proving who and what I was.”
He sighed heavily. “You wear your upbringing and your poverty like a badge. Like a shield to keep yourself from experiencing life. To create distance between us.”
“I don’t want to keep you away,” she admitted softly.
He smiled, ran his hands up and down the length of her arms, and over the cast on the one arm. “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.”
She shook her head. “I’m not what you think I am.”
The fear was back in her voice. The insecurity that surprised him, but that he meant to help drive away. “I think you’re a very strong, very smart, and very beautiful woman. A very brave and courageous one who’s not afraid of a challenge.”
Connie grinne
d and chuckled. “Am I to assume you’re my next challenge?”
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close against him. “Without a doubt. And an extremely worthy one, I might add.”
“So where do we go from here?”
Victor released her and waved in the direction of the table. “A little food. A little wine. A little —”
She held her hand up. “Stop right there. Let’s just start with the food and wine.”
Chapter 11
Victor strolled to the living room and sat on the sill of the window that faced 11th Street. He could see a sliver of ocean and some of the neon from a hotel on Ocean Drive. From here they would also be able to see most of the sunset before the sun dipped below the line of skyscrapers that marked downtown Miami.
He set the bottle with the remaining wine and glasses on a bookcase by the window, sat, and leaned against the frame. It was a little more quiet at this time of day. The beach crowd had left. They and the rest of the party crowd had yet to come out to play again.
For now there was only the occasional sound of a passing car and the faint music from one of the restaurants down the street on Ocean Drive. Behind him came a quiet footfall. He raised his head and had to shield his eyes against the glare of the sunset. “Connie?”
“Just me,” she responded and as she approached, her silhouette grew defined, and he could make out her features.
He smiled, held out his hand, and helped her sit on his lap, the large open window giving them a fairly comfortable perch to view the outside world.
Victor reached over, poured the last of the wine into the glasses, and offered it to her. As Connie took it, he slipped his arm behind her, securing her against his side. She settled her slight weight against him.
There was silence between them as they sat and the sunset painted the surface of the ocean with its myriad colors. Occasionally they sipped on the wine and after a few minutes, Connie took a deep breath, and let out a long, husky sigh.
“This is perfect, isn’t it?” she said.
Now and Always Page 8