by TL Schaefer
I screamed—I’ll admit it—then immediately lashed behind me with a roundhouse kick. I might not have been a cop, but I’d spent too many hours with Luis and on the streets to be taken down easily. My heel connected satisfyingly with a shin, and I heard a sharp hiss of pain under the pounding beat of the music.
“Jesus, woman, are you trying to kill me?” The roar in my ear stilled my elbow about an inch from an Adam’s apple. I spun.
“Roney? What in the hell are you doing in here?”
He limped to the stereo and turned it off with a flick of his wrist. “I came to see if you were all right.”
My heart was still beating too fast for me to truly appreciate what he’d said.
“How did you get in?” I draped a towel across my shoulders and tried to stop my hands from shaking.
“Picked the lock.”
He smiled, a slow, sensuous curl of his lips, and all of the anger I’d been nursing was swept away, as if with the tide, replaced by something even more dangerous...desire. My heartbeat, which had been rabbiting from exertion, and then fear, now did a slow tharump that had everything to do with the man standing in my living room. I ran a hand through my sweaty hair and puffed out a breath. I didn’t need this right now. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Yeah, well, you bruised the crap out of my shin and almost crushed my throat. Nice kick, by the way.”
I stifled a small smirk of my own. Only a cop, or maybe a soldier, could turn an assault into a compliment. “May I remind you that you broke in? This is Texas. I could’ve shot your ass and no one would’ve raised an eyebrow.”
“Yeah, but you’d never hurt lil’ ole me—I’m your biggest supporter, and you know it.” His voice was light, teasing, but held a ring of truth.
“Right,” I snorted in response. What else was I supposed to say? Roney’d been checking up on me. He was taking this whole pursuit thing a bit too far, especially for my peace of mind. “Look, thanks for coming by. I’m fine. Still pissed as hell, but fine.”
Roney ignored my not-so-subtle suggestion and sprawled his too-long, too-honed body across my couch. He looked right at home in lived-in cargo shorts and a Texas Christian University T-shirt. I studiously avoided looking at the muscled arms peeking out of that tee. Okay, I tried. I’m female, after all, and the dark hair dusting his forearms and tattoo peeking out beneath his sleeve caught my attention in more ways than one.
“Well, there’s fine, and there’s fine.” A playful, lecherous grin chased across his face.
No, no, no. I was so not dealing with this adorable, mischievous side of him. It was too easy to imagine sex with a guy like Roney...a Null. If he’d been any other man, we’d probably be doing the nasty on the floor right about now. But he was a cop. Cops asked questions, expected answers. I’d been Sara for a long, long time now, and I liked it.
But that old excuse was starting to wear thin, even to myself. Would he be up for a fling? A quickie? An image of us tangled on sweat-slick sheets, of him buried inside me crystallized in my mind, making me catch an unsteady breath.
He made my X-rated fantasy even more real by veering completely away from the subject of sex, and in doing so endeared him to me even more. “Just so you know, there’s another betting pool at HQ.” His smooth, rich voice still held that hint of amusement.
“I don’t care.” Although dammit, I did.
He grinned, and it was a little bit evil. “Oh, you’ll care about this one, trust me.” He paused, as if waiting for me to contradict him. “Hell, you’re no fun. The wager is on how long it takes Davis to fire Hiram and hire you full-time.”
I held back a laugh. I’d known the regular cops liked me, but not to what extent. Their hatred of Hiram, though, was obvious. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll happen.” I plopped down in the easy chair and took a swig from the water bottle I’d placed on the coffee table earlier. “It’s a good thing I’m a frugal girl by nature.”
“You need to look into applying your credits to a criminology degree. You’re wasting your talents freelancing, Sara.” Roney’s tone had gone serious. He was too smart for his own good. And once again his about-face from teasing pseudo-lover to on-a-mission cop brought me up short. Would I ever get a handle on him? Dare I even try?
“I appreciate your concern, but if you haven’t already figured it out, I like living my life the way I do. Punching a time clock and answering to assholes like Hiram isn’t my idea of a dream job. I’ll pick something up.” I stood and walked to the door. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve still got some mad to work out.”
Roney stood and sauntered my way, one hundred percent rolling, fluid man. My mouth went dry. It might be a good thing I was now unemployed and out of his vicinity, because I didn’t think I could deny myself one little taste much longer, even if it would probably end in disaster.
“I guess I won’t be seeing you again. I’d say it was nice to meet you, but three days, three bodies?” I shrugged and held out my hand, which was promptly engulfed by his.
“Oh, I won’t be so easy to get rid of,” he rumbled, and tugged on my hand, pulling me close. “And if I don’t see you for a few days, I wanna give you something to think about.”
His mouth covered mine and all thought fled.
His lips were soft, caressing, cajoling and sent pure, carnal heat spinning through me. My first—and only—fleeting thought of resistance went the way of the dinosaur as his tongue traced the seam of my lips, wet and hot and slick.
“Aren’t you on duty today?” I managed to whisper, though it was hard, damned hard, when all I wanted to do was climb his body like a tree.
“Afternoon off,” he grunted, then tunneled his hands into my hair, slightly tilted my head and began to devour me.
Dear God, the man knew how to kiss, teasing my lips with tiny, stinging nips until I opened for him, tangling my tongue with his.
“Jesus, Sara,” Roney groaned, and dropped his hands to my waist, pulling me tight against him, against the unmistakable bulge of his erection. “You’re killing me here, babe.”
I gave up any concept of self-preservation and leaned into him, wrapped my arms around his neck and met him stroke for luscious stroke. My hardened nipples chafed against his chest through the restriction of our clothing, and everything inside me went liquid with want.
The shrill ring of the cell phone froze me, my tongue still in his mouth.
He gave me one last long, velvet swipe, then murmured, “Let voice mail get it.”
I trembled and the movement pressed my breasts against him, making heat coil low and deep in my belly all over again.
What in the hell was I doing? No matter how much I’d been thinking of just such a thing, now I’d tasted him and I wanted more. I wanted it all, dammit.
I unlaced my fingers, shaking inside, and stepped away, heading for my phone. I took a deep breath and avoided looking at Roney. But I could hear him breathing hard, could feel his frustration as it thickened the air between us.
“Covington.”
“Davis. I need you down here to make a statement right now.” Chief Davis’s voice brooked no argument.
“On my way.” I disconnected the call, then dialed. Lisa would be on until at least eight tonight and would have the answers I needed. Or at least the most looming one.
“It’s Sara. What the hell is going on?”
Her voice was low, obviously whispered. “Hiram’s dead.”
“What do you mean, Hiram’s dead?” I snapped into the receiver. “Don’t mess with me, Lisa.”
“He’s a corpse... Davis wants to talk to you.”
“Do I need an attorney?” There was something in her voice that said I might.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing, chica.”
Chapter Five
Before
It didn’t take long to settle into a routine at CASI. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in the main hall, with appointments and “counseling” interspersed in between. At night I was back i
n my room, usually with a book of my choice from the library below. I’d read into the wee hours, since I wasn’t all that interested in being overly alert for my head-shrinking sessions anyway.
I was supposed to begin some sort of classes the next week and move into the dormitory after I’d “acclimated” to my latest home. Not something I was looking forward to, especially since I’d spent most of my life alone. On the other hand, I didn’t suppose I had a lot to say about it.
All in all, it was a weird way to live. I wasn’t sure if I’d been sent to a loony bin or a school for the gifted. There was a plus to it—at least I wasn’t being pawed at by my mother’s “dates”. Now I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something had to give, and I was sure it wouldn’t be to my benefit. My mother didn’t have the bank to pay for a place like this. Someone else was footing the bill.
Throughout the last few days, I’d caught glimpses of pretty much every color in the Crayola box, including my friend Wes. He was a serene, calm blue and looking at him made it easy to eat every meal with him. I still hadn’t looked him in the eye. Seeing his aura was one thing, but looking him in the eye and knowing what he was feeling seemed too much like spying.
In that time, I learned he’d arrived only a few days before I had. By default, we were both the weird new kid. But even with that bond, we danced around why we’d been sent here.
I knew, plain and simple, why I had. My mother was sick and tired of me pointing out to her when she was lying about who my father was, when her latest boyfriend was going to steal from us, or worse, make a move on me, that sort of thing.
To be honest, at least I wasn’t getting whacked by her on a daily basis. Or hearing her sermons about how I was either the next coming or that my father must have surely been the devil. Interestingly enough, as pious as she sounded, she sure got around the block.
Now—Saturday, 6:00 p.m.
In the end, I decided to see what Davis had to say alone. I could always lawyer up if need be.
Roney argued for about thirty seconds before realizing I needed to figure out what happened—by myself. And now, as I walked to the door of headquarters, I knew he had to wonder whether I’d actually killed my nemesis. In his place I sure as hell would have.
I’d seen the “cop” shutters fall over his eyes when I relayed what Lisa said, and could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head. No matter how much he wanted me on a physical level, the fact remained that I could have been the one who offed Hiram, even if he didn’t believe it on an instinctual level. The timing was right, after my little meltdown in the squad room, and there’d been enough time between my departure of HQ and when he picked my lock. But those were all probabilities and circumstantial at best.
I should have been pissed by his distrust, even if it was gone in the flash of an eye, but I wasn’t. I was a realist in all things, and suspicion should fall on me first. Instead I felt a weird combination of relief—maybe he’d stop pushing at me now—and disquieting sorrow—I’d tasted more than a quickie in his kiss.
Roney had said, a few days ago, that he couldn’t stand a liar, and I could understand that, because I felt as strongly about something similar. If there was one thing I couldn’t—wouldn’t—abide by, it was a lack of trust. There’d only been one person in the world I’d trusted with my life, and he was dead. Even now, all these years later, that loss still haunted me.
Detective Brian Roney had started to worm his way into my heart in much the same way, despite my misgivings, through sheer force of will alone. So yeah, I felt a bit sad, but in the end, it was for the best.
And now I had to deal with the very possible—and credible—fact that I was a murder suspect. The thought was terrifying, not because there was any chance in hell they could implicate me, but because an investigation might very well reveal secrets I’d fought for years to bury.
Lisa met me at the door with a worried look in her eyes, then led me back to Interrogation One. Dead silence followed us, along with twenty sets of hostile eyes.
Davis sat at the battered metal table, regarding me over steepled fingers.
“Covington, have a seat.” He toed out the chair opposite him with a screech.
“Deputy Chief Davis.” I slid into the chair and looked at him in silence. He wanted to see me? He could break the ice. I was tempted to slide my glasses down, but held back. I’d never done it with him before, and he was eagle-eyed enough to notice if I did it now.
He stared me down for at least two minutes, and in that time I barely blinked. To be brutally honest, I was trying to avoid the shakes that would surely overcome me if I began to look around the room I was in. Me, tiny rooms, bad combination.
“You know why you’re here,” he finally said.
“Yeah,” I acknowledged with a dip of my head, grateful we had at least begun. Where it would all end, I had no idea. “Grapevine works fast. They’re saying you think I did it.”
Davis sighed in response. “I don’t know what to think, Sara, but we’ve got to rule you out, or not, which is why we’re in here. Do you want counsel?”
“Not yet, but if I do, you’ll be the first to hear. What do you want to know?” I kept my tone as businesslike as possible, even though my gut was churning with nerves and more than a dab of pure terror. I’d been imprisoned before, at CASI, and it was one of my greatest fears to this day. So much so that on the drive over I’d considered chucking it all and hitting the road. I could disappear. Very quickly. But considering I hadn’t done anything wrong, I’d gut it out, and with any kind of luck I’d stay out of a jail cell.
“Let’s start with where you went after you left here.”
“My place, after I drove around for a bit. I was pissed. No one saw me.” I said, before he could ask.
“And after that? Did anyone see you at home?”
“Roney,” I admitted and spun a strand of hair around my finger nervously. I realized what I was doing—fidgeting uneasily—and forced myself to stop. “He stopped by to see if I was all right.”
“What time?” Davis’s eyes were sharp now.
“I’m not exact on this, but probably around five or five thirty. I was, um, venting my frustrations on my speed bag and he shocked the hell out of me. We were there until you called.” I refused, absolutely, categorically refused, to think about what we’d been doing before the phone rang. I may have been able to deal with it rationally on the drive over, but not right now, not under the scrutiny of Davis’s gaze.
“Where’s Roney now?” Davis’s lips had thinned.
Was he cranky because Hiram was dead or because one of his detectives was dipping his toe into the company pool...or at least what had been the company pool until a few hours ago?
“Probably his house. I booted him out when I left.” Never mind that it had been a mutual decision.
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
His question and the deadpan expression on his face made me wonder if he was leading me. Had I been set up? Framed somehow? The thought of someone—besides Hiram—hating me enough to use me was chilling. I’d spent two years with no real control of my fate, and there was no way I was going to let it happen again. So I did the only thing I could. I covered my ass by telling the truth.
“These are the same clothes I was wearing earlier. You can confirm that on the entryway video. If you’ll get me something to change into, you can have them, run whatever tests you want. The only thing you’re gonna find on them is sweat. I’ll also submit to an exam by a female officer if you’d like to run a fluoroscan. Oh, and I’ll take a polygraph too, as well as give you consent to search my truck and loft. I left my switchblade there. You won’t find traces of blood on it. No other weapons of any kind. I’m not a gun sort of girl. Am I missing anything?”
Davis cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, that about covers it. Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer before you make those offers?”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Yes. I’ve got not
hing to hide, with the exception of having a street knife. I was pissed at Hiram, but not killing mad. We both know I could’ve hooked up with another division here in Dallas, or even down in Austin or San Antonio. There was no reason for me to kill him. Hate him like hell, yes.”
The chief held my gaze, then nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Four hours later I sat in the bullpen, waiting. Sweating. I was dressed in a DPD T-shirt and sweats, with a pair of too-tight running shoes Lisa had grabbed from her locker. My clothes would be held until the case closed...maybe forever. I’d passed the polygraph with flying colors, stumbling only when, during the baseline, the examiner asked where I’d grown up. While I’d been able to lie convincingly to Roney, it would come through loud and clear on the tape, so I told the truth. Colorado Springs seemed a lifetime away anyway, so what was the harm? It wasn’t like Roney was going to be browsing through my polygraph. Davis wouldn’t allow it, especially if he suspected we were sleeping together.
I studiously ignored the angry looks and muttered whispers peppering the air around me. I knew what they were saying...that I was the same as a tech, so I could cover up a murder pretty convincingly...things along those lines. Any affection they might have held for me before was gone. I’d been their favorite for a whopping seven hours, after my showdown with Hiram. I was a suspect now, in a crime against one of their own, no less. While the public wanted to think cops believed in the whole “innocent until proven guilty” gig, when push came to shove, my argument with Hiram had given me a black mark it would be almost impossible to remove until the real killer was found. I couldn’t blame them, but like with Roney, the suspicion hurt in a way I shouldn’t allow.