Miami Heat

by Tressie Lockwood

  “Are you okay, honey?”

  Sakura gripped the railing outside on the landing and shut her eyes. Embarrassment at her weakness made her straighten despite the lightheadedness. All the old feelings came flooding back, of how helpless she’d felt when she found out her mother died. They hadn’t been close. Sure, she’d loved her mother and thought she was the epitome of womanhood, but the two of them argued all the time. Her mother wanted her to depend a little more on the family, but Sakura continued to take the assignments that meant traveling the farthest away. She couldn’t explain why she was always so cut off and so… The last time she had argued with her mother, the woman had accused her of being afraid of living. Sakura had been so offended, she refused to come home, even for meetings. Then her mother was gone, along with any opportunity to build a closer relationship.

  “I’m fine,” Sakura said, pulling her thoughts from the past. “Were you here five years ago?”

  “Five years?” The old woman frowned. “Of course, honey. This is my business. If I’m not here, who will run it?”

  Sakura pulled another picture from her purse, one of her mother when she lived. “Do you recognize this woman? Was she ever here?”

  More squinting. “A lot of people come through here. I don’t remember everybody.” The old lady shook her head and handed back the picture. Sakura cursed silently. She was not an investigator. Her targets and all their information were emailed to her, and she read over the facts, deciding the best way to approach the shifter. Looking for clues to what happened to her mother seemed impossible. How did one get people to remember what they had forgotten? What questions were best to ask? She’d come all this way and even found the motel, but she had no idea of the next move. The room had obviously been cleaned and probably been used a dozen times or more by other guests.

  “Thank you for your time,” she said and started down the stairs. When she arrived at her own hotel, she sighed at the luxury, leather couches with accent pillows, beautiful paintings on the wall, lush carpet on the floor, fresh flowers on the table, and best of all a muted color scheme that was both relaxing and classy.

  She walked to the bed with its turned back coverlet and mint on the pillow and flopped down, groaning. A ding on her cell phone brought her head up, and she checked the display, annoyed that she hoped it was Adam texting. Instead, a number she didn’t recognize flashed on the screen. She read the message.

  “Hi, Sakura. It’s Roger Port. Care to have drink with me?”

  She frowned and texted back. “As if your name should mean something to me?”

  “Lol. Beautiful ladies should not be cruel to us lesser creatures. You can say I’m tech support.”

  Then she recalled the name. Her dad had hired Roger to replace her sister Shiya in gathering info on shifters. Now that Shiya was no longer their computer person since she had run off with a couple of polar bear shifters, they needed someone with her skill set. She hadn’t had the chance to meet Roger face to face before she left San Diego.

  “Sorry, Roger. I’m not in town at the moment.”

  “I know. You’re in Miami. So am I. So how about that drink?”

  Irritation rose, and she pressed her lips together. Had her dad sent Roger because she refused to take along a protector? No, if he had, it wouldn’t be this guy. They had plenty of strong, capable men in their employ that could do the job. A computer nerd was the last person he would send. Then she considered whether Roger could give her clues on how to find information on her mother’s death. She had no intention of sharing what she was doing because he might report back to her dad, but maybe he could help without realizing.

  She let him know she’d be happy to meet him that evening for a drink and spent the rest of the day doing just what she had been wanting to, sunning beside the pool in a bikini and drinking a mimosa. When it was time to get ready, she returned to her room, showered, and chose a deep purple asymmetrical dress with one shoulder and an open back. An opaque strip of cloth slanted across her breasts, her waist, and her hips, connected by sheer strips at the upper part of her belly, a bit of her hip and across her thighs, making it appear she showed a lot more skin. She loved the dress because of how it fit her form like a glove and made her feel sexy. Four-inch heels completed her ensemble, and she brushed her hair until it shined and hung in a straight sheet several inches below her shoulders. In her experience, men liked long hair, so she kept it that way, especially since her job entailed seducing said men.

  Ready, she left her room and accepted the hotel’s complimentary ride to the lounge where Roger agreed to meet. She strode through the entrance and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. A red lit ceiling illuminated the oddly shaped bar in the center of the room, lined with chair stools. Along the sides of the room were tall tables and chairs, where patrons enjoyed their drinks and food. Sakura scanned the faces at the bar and at the tables for anyone who might be her date. The bartender, wiping a glass dry with a towel, caught her gaze and winked. She resisted rolling her eyes and continued her search.

  At a table near the back, a man in black slacks and crisp white shirt stood up from his table. He straightened stylish glasses and then brushed overlong, dark hair from his forehead. Not exactly the nerdy look, she thought, acknowledging his wave. Sakura walked over to him, noting if she removed her heels, they might be the same height.

  “Roger?”

  “The one and only.” He held out his hand. “And you’re Sakura. I’ve seen pictures of you. Wow, they don’t do you justice. You’re beautiful.”

  She lowered her gaze and thanked him, then caught herself. The coy, sweet thing was a persona she used for work when the guy was the type to like it. She had no need to be anything but herself with Roger.

  “Thanks, but don’t feel like you have to kiss up to the boss’s daughter.”

  He grinned and held her chair while she sat down. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

  She shrugged. If she said she did, she’d come off vain. If she denied it, he would probably shower more compliments on her. “So what are you doing in Miami? Are you checking up on me?”

  “Yes.”

  She blinked at him, and he chuckled.

  “I don’t have to work in an office, you know. I can do what I do anywhere. Since I got the systems up and running, I thought I’d take a few days for myself.”

  “That’s the running excuse,” she muttered.

  He didn’t seem to have heard her. “My report on you says you travel a lot more than you’re home. In fact, it was rare for you to be in San Diego, and I’d missed you by a few hours.”

  Sakura had no problem with the fact that he had a report on her. All of the field staff had dossiers. The hunters didn’t just study their prey. They figured out the best person to send for the job and what skills would match best. Now that they were down to just Sakura, she didn’t figure they had much of a choice as far as the women.”

  “I met everyone else,” Roger was saying. “I wanted to get to know you in person, especially if I’m going to recommend other women.”

  Sakura gasped. “Other women? My dad intends to hire women to replace my sisters? He never told me that!”

  “He didn’t say so, but you can’t do it alone, right?”

  For some reason his words seemed to hold a challenge, but she refused to rise to it. “Makes sense, I guess.”

  He nodded. “But first you. Tell me what you’d like to drink. I’ll do all in my power to please you.”

  “Sit still,” Sakura told him and rose. “I’ll get us something.” Her habit was never to allow a man to have access to her drink, and she didn’t care if Roger did work for her father. A cautious nature would not be denied. She procured a beer for him and a mojito for herself, including Bacardi, lime, mint syrup, and club soda. She also asked for a double order of fries because she hadn’t eaten much that day, and she was starving. Having more alcohol on an empty stomach might spell trouble, so she wanted to head it off.

/>   “Thanks.” Roger took the offered beer and snagged a French fry. Sakura ate a few and sipped her drink. Roger leaned toward her as if to keep others from overhearing, but she doubted with the music vibrating the air around them anyone could listen in. “So why are you in Miami? This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

  “And you would know my scene?” she countered.

  He studied her face. “Somewhere exotic maybe. With an ocean between you and home.”

  She glared.

  He held up hands, grinning. “I’m not judging you. Who knows, I might feel the same. I travel all over myself, but I’m new to Cali. So far, I like what I see.”

  Sakura knew he aimed the statement at her. Roger worked hard to get close to her, which was hardly necessary. From the way his gaze dropped every so often to her legs, exposed beneath her dress, she assumed he would have no problem should she ask him to join her in her room later. For a while now, Adam had been her only lover, and she usually kept at least two. None lasted more than a year, except Adam. Okay, stop thinking of him, damn it! Maybe she should invite Roger to her room. If she took on a new lover, it might help dissipate the feelings she had built for Adam.

  “Thanks,” she said in a deep, sultry voice, and she tilted her head to the side while studying him. Color rose in his cheeks. She crossed one leg over the other at the side of the tiny table and made sure to bump his leg. “Oh, sorry.”

  He shifted in his chair. “No worries.”

  “So I guess you’re a genius, huh? The way you recovered our system in no time?”

  He preened. “Me? No, just know a little about computer systems. Your sister was pretty good in the way she wiped out most of the data, but she outsmarted herself in the end. There was another backup—granted in pieces of code. I simply rooted around in it and solved the puzzle. Viola.”

  “Oh, viola,” she said, amused. “I don’t know computers, but I’m guessing the rooting around took hours.”

  “Hours, days, weeks. I have no social life.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She bumped him again, this time letting him know it was on purpose. “You look like you know how to have fun.”

  The man practically panted.

  She waggled a finger at him. “I bet you are so smart, you could find anyone, anywhere. Not just shifters either. Wait, you’re probably like those guys…um…”

  His brows rose. “Those guys?”

  “The ones on that show. They pick up clues from crime scenes.” She felt like an idiot. The stretch from computer wiz to a CSI investigator was so wide, but she hadn’t been able to come up with any other way to lead the conversation where she wanted.

  Roger nodded. “Ah, yes, that show. I’m a strong guy, but I think a crime scene with all its blood would be beyond me.”

  Sakura almost slumped with disappointment.

  “But once it was on a computer, I could go through it easy enough. Hell, I could probably even hack into the medical examiner’s office computer if I wanted.”

  Medical Examiner. His words triggered an idea in Sakura. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Someone must have found her mother’s body and called the police and the medical examiner. Her family had many contacts in official capacities, and they had covered up more than one incident that involved shifters to keep the general public in the dark. She couldn’t outright use one of the contacts to gain information because it might get back to her dad, but maybe if she had the excuse of another case, she could get into the office.

  She looked at Roger and considered asking him to prove his ability to do a little hacking, but decided against it. Although unlikely, he still might be a spy for her dad to see what she was up to. Better to forge a way with the Keith name on the pretext of a case. Then she could play everything by ear when she reached the medical examiner’s office.

  Sakura and Roger chatted some more about inconsequential things, and then he saw her back to her hotel. Outside her room, she turned to him to bid him good night. He stilled and looked at her door.

  “Is something wrong, Roger?” she asked.

  He offered a sheepish grin. “I thought you might invite me in.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “Is it in my report that I jump into bed with men I’ve just met?”

  “No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  She smirked. “You didn’t.” Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek and smelled his cologne, a nice manly scent that awakened her libido but didn’t quell thoughts of how she wished that damn Adam were in Miami. Before she could use Roger to get rid of the desire, she slipped the key card into the slot and entered her room.

  The lights were off even though she remembered leaving one on. She frowned and crossed the room, trying to remember where the switch was. Rolling her eyes, she turned to retrace her steps, and a hand snaked out of the darkness to encircle her waist. She opened her mouth, but another hand clamped across her lips. Sakura didn’t hesitate to bring the heel of her shoe down on the attacker’s foot. He howled in pain, and she kicked backward, her foot glancing off the side of his leg. If she’d aimed better, she’d have taken out his knee.

  “Son of a—” the man growled.

  Sakura didn’t allow him to finish the curse. She thrust her head back and cracked him in the chin. He hit the floor hard. She scrambled away and fumbled for the light. A lamp came on and illuminated the room. The man on the floor rolled to his hands and knees and jumped up.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she snapped and ran after him. He moved with a speed too fast for a human. Sakura jerked her dress up and unsheathed the knife on her upper thigh. She hit the balcony door seconds after the man did, but when she stepped out onto the platform, empty hot air met her. To the left stretched an unbroken line of balconies across the building. To the right were more of the same. She ran to the railing and peered over the side then gasped. Like a monkey, the man leaped from one balcony to the next, descending in a zigzag pattern until he disappeared into the open doors of one room. Were there monkey shifters, or was this agility common to his kind, whatever that was?

  She didn’t bother going down to the lower floor to see if she could find him. He would be long gone, and since he obviously had business with her, she didn’t doubt he would show up again. Besides, she had seen his face. If she ran across him, the outcome of their fight would be very different.

  Chapter Four

  Sakura spent the next few days allowing Roger to take her out dancing and exploring Miami. She dragged him along shopping so she could pick his brain a little more. Surprised she could wrangle so much info from the man, she reminded herself to have her dad lecture him about being so open. For now, his loose lips were a big help. She found out he had set up logons for all of the field staff, and she could sign in to the database at any time to gain information about shifters. She no longer had to rely on waiting for an email or making a call to headquarters. The system was not complete yet, but eventually, Roger informed her, she would be able to pick up an assignment at any time, enter new information she had learned, search for contacts, and even make appointments with said contacts.

  “In fact,” he bragged, “I’ll make it so you can log in from your phone and find someone to help you in any capacity, wherever you are in the world. Specialties will be listed like fighting style, computer hacking, financial, government connections—you name it. And there will be clearance levels, of which yours will go to the top.”

  She smiled at him. “I feel so special.”

  “You should.” He reached a hand out to touch her hair, and she let him for the moment. “You’re very special, Sakura.”

  “You’ve said that or something close to it every time we go out. I’m beginning to think you’re not sincere.”

  His eyes widened. “I am, but I have to keep trying, don’t I? I want to get close to you.” He touched her hand, and Sakura heard cars honking their horns behind them. She remained where she was, knowing the light had changed and not caring. Roger ha
d been content to let her drive, and not for the first time she wondered how much he would let her lead. What about in the bedroom, should they take it there?

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told him, and drove on. They hit South Beach and visited Lincoln Road Mall. Crowds of tourists walked along, exploring the shops and the street vendors. Sakura found a few vintage outfits and unique jewelry that would go well with dresses she already owned. Roger insisted on playing the gentleman by holding her bags, and she didn’t argue with him.

  While Roger haggled over some bauble a vendor sold, she wandered on. She stood on tiptoe, squinting behind her sunglasses and then lowered them to study a man not far away. No doubt about it, the sandy blond head, slim shoulders, and smooth gait belonged to her attacker. She glanced over her shoulder at Roger and then weaved her way through the crowd. Her date would have to catch up with her later. For now, work called, and she wasn’t letting the bastard get away.

  When the man stepped out from the pedestrian only area into the cross street at Lenox Avenue, he picked up speed, and Sakura followed. She touched a hand to the knife on her outer thigh and took mental inventory of the various other weapons on her person, glad she’d worn flat, comfortable shoes. On the opposite side of Lenox, they continued walking and then reached a parking garage. The man disappeared into it. Sakura looked around and hurried after him. Somewhere, someone slammed a car door, but she didn’t spot the person. No one stood nearby, and as she looked up and down the line of parked vehicles, she couldn’t spot the shifter.

  “Damn,” she whispered. “He is not giving me the slip again.” She ran down the nearest row of cars, and out popped her attacker, an arm extended as if he intended to clothesline her. Sakura bobbed low and brought her fist up to punch him in the side. The man slammed against a car.

  “You bitch,” he growled.

  For the insult, she punched him in the mouth and then bounced back on her toes, fists raised. “That’s for breaking into my room. Now, you want to tell me why you came after me?”