He wished he could think about another woman’s ass. The only one on his mind was Annie’s. “Staring into space. Nothing sexual.”
She flipped the music screens on the jukebox and looked at the song titles. “Sure.”
“If I were staring, I’d tell you.”
“Right.”
He put his hand over hers. “Your radar is off. In fact, you proved last night that you can’t tell when I’m really seducing a woman or not.”
“Did it ever dawn on you that I might not be interested in you?”
He dropped his hand and chuckled. “No.”
“Arrogant.”
“Tease.”
She winced.
“Don’t tell me I offended you.” Since he’d said worse things to her, he doubted that was the case.
“Hardly.” She shifted in her seat and winced again. “My knee is throbbing. That pivot move you did in the parking lot this morning didn’t exactly promote healing.”
“Damn. Sorry about that.”
“I’ll make you pay later. Right now I need aspirin.”
“Put your leg up.” He patted his lap.
“Why?”
“So I can rub it.” Touching her would destroy his control, but he owed her.
She closed one eye and peeked at him through the other. “Is this another seduction?”
“I’ll let you know when I switch to seduction mode. Maybe after we eat.”
She slipped her ten-dollar sneaker onto his lap. “It hurts, so not too hard.”
“Give me some credit. I’m a professional.” Using only his fingertips, he massaged the area around her knee with slow, gentle circles.
“Do you have a certificate in massage?”
“You wish.”
“Yeah, I kind of do. You can’t blame a girl for trying.” Her head fell back against the top of the booth. “If I fall asleep, get the food wrapped up to go.”
The touch of his fingers against her warm flesh and sleek muscles made his cock push against his fly. One move and those fingers could trace a line up her sleek leg and under the band of her shorts. Then those grumbling sounds at the back of her throat would morph into a moan. He’d probably take her on the table.
“I didn’t forget, you know,” she said.
The sound of her soft voice made him jump. “About what?”
“The boy.” Her eyes stayed closed.
Damn. “I thought we were done with that conversation.”
“No, we aren’t.” Her sleepy eyes opened. “Talk or I call Dietz and ask for his version.”
That threat worked. Dietz’s version included lies, embellishments and incorrect information.
“He was dealing ice.”
Annie blinked a few times. “Do you mean crystal meth?”
“Yeah.”
“Here?”
“Why not here?”
She grabbed up a stack of sugar packets and began building a wall. “But, this is Hawaii. Paradise.”
“Hawaii has its share of crime.”
“Why in the world would any kid lucky enough to live on this beautiful island turn to drugs?”
Her reaction was naïve but not unusual. Tourists saw only the lush, exotic part of Hawaii. The perfect weather. The sandy beaches. He knew about the other part. About the dissatisfaction that frequently led kids away from productive lives to lives based on getting high.
“Happens all the time. Ice is a huge problem. You take a bunch of bored kids, put them in a confined space, add in economic pressure, high prices and typical stupid teenage insecurities, and you get a disaster.” Kane had seen it a hundred times. The pattern never changed. Neither did the addiction or its destructive aftermath.
With every word, her eyes grew wider. “But why?”
“The lure of euphoria and promise of escape hook a lot of kids around here.”
“I had no idea.”
“The wild stories of days of non-stop sex are an incentive, too.”
Her fingers moved faster, piling packet upon packet until the stack toppled over. “That part I can understand. Boys like sex. They talk big.”
His hands froze. “Is that right?”
She knocked against the table. “Hey, don’t stop.”
Demanding little thing. “Talking or touching?”
“Both.”
Since the night of the shooting, Kane had pushed the memory of Sam’s murder scene to the back of his mind and had to fight to keep it there. This time, he let it out. Concentrating on what had happened helped him ignore the feel of her skin under his hands. Not the easiest thing to do since the ball of her foot kept rubbing against his fly.
“The kid—”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
The words stuck in his throat. Always did. “Sam Watson. He and his private prep school buddies ran the drug ring. To cut down on a lot of unnecessary details, there was a joint operation between the police and DEA. A sting. The kid had a gun, kept firing and wouldn’t drop it.”
The lazy look disappeared from her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“So, I shot him.”
Kane decided to leave out most all of the details. The shot Sam rammed into Kane’s shoulder. Sam pointing a gun at Josh’s head. The blood. The grilling in the newspapers as the Watson family portrayed their kid as a saint and Kane as the vicious cop. The racial overtones of a rich white kid being shot by a local boy. All of it.
Then there was the aftermath. The mole he couldn’t find. The connections he couldn’t close. The adult at the head of the operation who let the kids swing rather than go down. The death threats. The punch to the gut when the people he served rushed to believe someone with a bigger wallet.
Sam knew who ran the ring. Sam couldn’t talk. Sam couldn’t do anything anymore.
But Kane couldn’t share any of that. The DEA sting continued, but the focus had switched from the kids to the unknown leader. Josh kept hunting, convinced a wealthy member of society was to blame. Until they identified the head of the organization, Kane needed to stay out of the picture.
“Did Sam die right away?” Again, no judgment from her. Just a question.
That was the kicker. The kid could be sitting in a juvenile home or, with his family’s money, been shuffled off to a military school somewhere. Kane wondered for the thousandth time what he could have done to make Sam put the gun down. What would have happened if they had arrived at the hospital in time.
He wouldn’t have to wonder long. When Dietz finished his investigation, he’d tell everyone. Put it in the newspapers and post it on the Internet. Kane knew he’d have to fight to get his badge back.
“First time, I shot him in the upper leg. The damn kid kept firing. My second shot clipped his neck.”
“Kane…”
“He bled out before we could get him to the hospital. We were too late.”
For a few minutes she just sat there, arranging sugar packets in a circle around her mug. When she looked up, he thought he saw a twinge of sadness behind that intense green.
“I don’t have to tell you that you’re not at fault, right? You were doing your job. The kid didn’t deserve to die, of course, but he was responsible for the situation he put himself in.”
“I’m not wallowing in self-pity or looking for absolution Annie.”
She hit him with one of those flirty smiles. The kind that telegraphed a message to his lower half and made his brain shut off. “Good, because I’m not much into confessions.”
Her snotty attitude lifted the mood. “You sure? You and me in a little box? Think about it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get back to Sam.”
He shrugged, trying to pretend the story didn’t matter even though it did. “The incident stays with me, and not just because of Dietz and his warped agenda.”
That last part pissed him off. Jealousy and bitterness motivated Dietz’s hatred, not any feelings of compassion for Sam or his family.
“It should,” she said as she reached for
her mug again.
As usual, she said something he didn’t expect. “Not the sensitive type, are you?”
“Keep massaging my knee.”
He didn’t realize he had stopped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“If taking another person’s life didn’t change you, then you wouldn’t have a conscience. Sam’s death is a part of you. It’s damaged you. And you know what?”
Seemed to Kane that this woman knew a lot about killing. “No.”
“That’s the way it should be. It shouldn’t be easy, and you shouldn’t get to forget it.”
Derek trusted Kane’s judgment and had never questioned his motives in the shooting. Josh had walked the same road, had stood there in Sam’s sights, so he knew what had happened even if Dietz refused to listen. Now, Annie understood.
Kane didn’t know why or what had happened in her past to give her the knowledge. Before they went much further, he needed to know the answers to those questions.
With the utmost care, he moved her foot to the floor. “We should eat fast and then go.”
“Sharing time over?”
“My part.” He drained his coffee cup. “You have yet to tell me anything other than your name, and I had to figure that part out myself.”
“I’m still angry about that, by the way. Sneaky bastard.”
He flashed her his best grin. “That’s Chief Sneaky Bastard to you.”
“Where next?”
“Some calls, then a trip to police headquarters.”
She snorted. “Are you looking for trouble?”
“Don’t have to look. Trouble generally finds me without much effort.”
“So, why are you borrowing more?”
“We need to see what the police pulled off the yacht.” He watched her face for signs of panic. Except for a raised eyebrow, she didn’t show any emotion.
“Any particular reason?”
“Because you were on that yacht and because you refuse to tell me why or what happened. If you won’t fill in the gaps, I’ll have to hunt down the information myself.” This woman knew something. He planned to find out what.
She exhaled and her shoulders slumped. “You’re kidding.”
“I told you I don’t have a sense of humor.”
“Or a great sense of timing.” She motioned for the waitress. “And you certainly know how to ruin a good meal.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the food here isn’t that good anyway.”
Chapter 10
“I’d like to go on record as voting against this plan.” Annie stood in the empty parking lot at the back door of what was quite possibly the least impressive structure she’d ever seen.
Good food or not, she couldn’t figure out why she’d rushed through her lunch for this. Half a sandwich sat on her plate. She thought about driving right back to the diner to finish it.
“So noted,” Kane said, though it was obvious he was ignoring her lecture.
Heat bounced off the pavement, boiling her on the spot. The bandage around her knee made her skin itch. She wondered if the humidity could melt the cotton wrap.
“Really, Kane. This is a terrible idea.”
“Still noted.”
Kane sat on the hood of his pickup, looking all smooth and tanned and in charge. He talked to her, but his hand stayed on his cell phone. His eyes focused on the slight ramp leading up to the glass door.
Her gaze followed his. Then she cringed. The single-level beige building blended in with the other state office buildings grouped together off the main road. Lihue, the county seat, housed quaint shops, cute cottage homes, chickens and impressive scenery lined with mountains in the distance and fresh greenery and fragrant flowers all around. If everything went as she planned with Howard, maybe she could come back and photograph the area.
But not this part of Lihue. There wasn’t any greenery back here. Except for a small strip of park between the front of the building and the road, the area consisted mostly of parking meters and macadam. The only visible water was the puddle under the fire hydrant by the next building.
“Are you sure this is police headquarters?” she asked.
“Last I checked.”
“It’s claustrophobic.” Windows were spaced every eight or so feet apart around the building. She guessed each one marked an office. “Shouldn’t there be police cars and activity?”
“Not here. There are about twenty-five officers in the investigative bureau and another ten who work patrol. We have smaller outposts around the island, and some of the administrative stuff is done elsewhere.”
A chicken came right up to her foot. The little bugger moved on only when she rubbed the bottom of her sneaker against the pavement, making a crunching sound against the pebbles and rocks there.
“The size of the police department doesn’t tell me why none of them are actually here right now.”
He exhaled in the universal male sign for disgust over being questioned. “It’s Sunday afternoon. This is a pretty quiet time around here.”
“Nice of the criminals to take the day off.”
“Yep. Crime is a Monday through Friday activity here. Frees up time for surfing and hula dancing,” he said in his best smart-ass voice.
She fought the urge to knock those sunglasses off his nose. “There are two cars in the parking lot, and one of them is yours. That was my only point.”
“Which is why we’re here now instead of on a work-day.” He slid off the hood.
“Oh, right. You’re on a leave of absence.”
“Vacation.”
She tried to fill in the holes to his story. “Is there a difference?”
“There is to me.”
“Because of Sam?”
His jaw tightened. “Among other things.”
“You know, the closer you get to the office, the more coplike you become. Those short, sharp responses. That demanding attitude. No eye contact. Do they teach you that in police school?”
“Very first day.”
“It’s really annoying. I can’t even see your eyes.”
Kane hesitated for a second, then took off his glasses. “This better?”
“A charm lesson wouldn’t be a bad use of your money.”
“This is as good as I’m going to get. Too old to change now.”
Said the guy with zero body fat and the tight butt. “I guess we know why you’ve never been married.”
Kane slipped his glasses back on. “Who said that I haven’t?”
A haze settled in her brain. “You’ve—”
His phone buzzed. “Here we go.”
She wasn’t ready to move off the previous conversation. “The fact you have a wife is basic information. The kind of stuff you should share.”
“Like why you’re on the island? Some people might consider that pretty basic intel.”
“Are you still married?” The question came out as a squeal.
“Have you seen a wife?” He took off for the door.
She followed quickly at his heels. “Is that an answer?”
He smiled at her over his shoulder just as the glass door opened and a dark head peeked out. Dark hair, sharp green eyes with a relaxed stance and friendly smile. The guy looked to be thirty-something and part Asian, part something else. By the polo shirt and dress slacks, she guessed he ranked higher than the nervous officer she’d met earlier.
“’Bout time, Greene,” Kane said.
“Sorry, Chief. Dietz hung around for hours. He only drove off a short time ago. We wanted to make sure he was gone.”
The officer ushered them into a small lobby. The only decorations were a few chairs, racks of pamphlets and a security desk. A set of double doors blocked the view into the main room except for a small window in the middle.
“Ted Greene, this is Annie.” Kane continued after the other man nodded his hello. “Ted heads my investigative team. He’s running point on the trouble at the marina.”
By trouble she assumed Kane meant her.
“Wallace, Clark and Simmons. The evening patrol just started its shift, but anyone who comes in and out should be friendly. The major problem left.” Ted handed Kane an envelope.
Kane unhooked the clasp and looked inside. “Good. Let’s get to it.”
Happy they knew what was going on. “Not to be dense, gentlemen, but what’s the ‘it’ we’re doing?”
Ted started at her. “Ma’am?”
“You can call her Annie.”
At least Kane had stopped calling her Fern. If he could stop barking out orders, they’d really be making progress.
He could also take ten seconds and explain that wife comment. She shouldn’t care, of course, but since the conversation kept replaying in her mind, Annie knew she did.
“I can speak for myself,” she grumbled at Kane, then flashed Ted a wide smile. “Please call me Annie.”
The corner of Ted’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “Okay, Annie.”
She put the marriage question on hold and focused on the task in front of them. Being in this building was bad enough. She’d bet there was a jail in the building, too.
Yeah, this wasn’t good. She knew—deep down in her gut knew—something they pulled off the boat implicated her. People could point fingers at her, but not for a missing boat. That sin belonged to someone else. She had enough of her own without taking on more.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You can have a seat in the waiting room,” Ted said.
“I’m coming along.”
Ted shot Kane a questioning look.
“It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The way Kane said that made something flutter in the bottom of her stomach. Her insides generally didn’t move and wiggle. Well, they had for a second or two when she first got on the yacht, but that had to do with motion and nerves, not a man. This time felt more like attraction than nausea.
Truth was she’d rather be sick. Vomiting she could handle. Take a pill, lie down, drink a little seltzer and, miracle of miracles, a few hours later all better. To handle Kane, she’d need a vaccine.
“Chief—”
“Don’t worry, Ted.”
“But Dietz could come back at any time.”
Your Mouth Drives Me Crazy Page 8