Beyond the Shadows

by LaVerne Clark

  After that first meeting, she noticed he kept his distance. Nothing obvious, nothing that would suggest his displeasure about being in her company, but to her, it was apparent. When the sergeant announced their partnership, she was at once thrilled and apprehensive. At last, Nate would have to acknowledge her, and she could begin to figure out how the man ticked. Boy, how wrong she’d been. Although he’d been forced to interact with her, he never offered anything of a personal nature, and the scowl he wore around her became more of a fixture.

  McCabe returned with the sheets encased in a brown folder, breaking her out of her musing. “Thanks Reece,” she offered as he handed it to her.

  His brows rose at her use of his first name, and his eyes sharpened on the shadows under her eyes. The lazy grin fled. “O’Leary had better be treating you right. If he isn’t, tell him I’ll be over to knock his block off—injured or not—okay?”

  Kelly laughed and squeezed his forearm affectionately. “Will do, thanks.” She raised the folder in farewell. “See you next week.”

  “See you then, doll.”

  With the case notes burning a hole in her hands, she concentrated on keeping her pace steady and her features unconcerned. The last thing she and Nate needed were to have their contemporaries start questioning their interest in this case. They might discover the same parallels and dig deeper. What was a bad situation would only get worse. At least this way, they still held the element of surprise over the killer. He had no idea they were on his tail.

  She placed the file in the passenger’s seat, started the car, and drove off with her fingers gripping the steering wheel in a stranglehold. Once out of sight of the precinct, she abruptly pulled over. She couldn’t wait any longer. Glancing furtively around the quiet suburban street, she opened the folder and stared down at the six by four color photos. Bare neck, clean scene, and what looked like the signature post-mortem carving of the chest. But no sign of a necklace.

  Slapping the folder shut, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, daunted at the enormity of their task. It was just her and Nate against an unknown and dangerous man who had been loose on the streets for far too long. Without the reassurance of having the rest of the force behind them, the whole case rested on their shoulders. She already felt herself crumbling under its weight.

  A sudden rapping on the side window made her jump. “Oh!” Her eyes widened on the sight of a lanky youth in a dirty baseball cap and a skateboard under his arm peering in at her.

  “Are you okay, lady?”

  Kelly offered a tremulous smile. “I’m fine, thanks. Just been one of those days.”

  “Cool. See you.”

  “See you,” she responded and watched him drop his board back to the ground and skate off without a care in the world. A faint smile touched her lips as her normal positive nature asserted itself once more. The stranger’s touching concern, and a teenager at that, reminded her there were more good people in the world than bad. She would do well to remember that in the future.

  With a sigh, she deliberately pushed the folder to the floor of the car and filled her mind with the mundane task of composing a list of groceries.

  ****

  A weary two hours later, Kelly pulled back into the underground parking lot. The plastic bags threatened to burst at the seams as she juggled them to get a hand free and stab the elevator button. Once the doors closed, she dropped the bags at her feet with a sigh and wriggled her fingers to encourage circulation. Yeah, the view was to die for, but practicalities like getting shopping from the car to indoors, proved to be a bitch. Still—it was nice to get out. Idly, she wondered if Nate would like a change in scenery. God knows, it could be their last chance before the media scrum descended on their door after tonight. She swallowed the nerves at the thought of tonight’s screening and shelved it to the back of her mind.

  The door swung open promptly at her knock. Nate moved aside, but he still stood too close as she passed through, her nostrils catching a whiff of his unique, compelling scent. He went to take a bag off her, but she moved it out of his way before he could and his hand brushed against her hip instead.

  “No, I can do it,” she said a little too breathlessly. “You’re healing and I’ll be damned if I’m patching you up again.”

  His eyes darkened to jade, and his mouth set in a petulant line. “I’m sick of feeling useless. I need to do something.”

  She eyed him over the bags she dumped on the kitchen counter. Tension radiated from his every pore. “Fine. You can put these away while I make us a picnic lunch. We both need to get out for a while.”

  “Good idea. I feel like I’m about to burst out of my skin.” He rolled his shoulders then rummaged through the bags. He pulled out a pot of basil pesto and a bottle of spirulina with a grimace. “Is this actually meant to be food? It’s green.”

  She arched a brow and snatched it out of his hands, suppressing the smile threatening to curve her lips. She found the packet of pita chips, tore open the top, and grabbed a couple then scooped up a generous helping of pesto.

  “Try it before you dismiss it. I promise you’ll love it. It’s delicious.” She followed him when he backed away, turning his head and clamping his lips together. She matched him step for step until his back hit the stove. “Oh, don’t be such a baby,” she taunted, grinning in earnest now. “Trust me, would you?”

  Lightning quick, his hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist, pulling her close. Her belly thudded against his hard, flat one, and the air left her lungs. Her mouth went dry. His eyes turned to dark pools as they stroked over her face in a bold caress and lingered on her mouth.

  God. Was he going to kiss her? Her lips parted and throbbed to the frantic beating of her heart. She fervently hoped he wouldn’t, and in the next beat, she hoped like hell he would.

  His gaze glittered and she knew with a trickle of embarrassment all her thoughts projected onto her face. He dipped his head and her eyes widened. Then, he brought her hand with the pesto up to his mouth and took a bite, his breath misting over her fingertips. He chewed slowly, a muscle in his jaw flexing with each movement. Her eyes followed his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

  “You’re right.”

  Her gaze flew back to those magnetic eyes. What was she right about? She’d lost her train of thought. The scent of crushed basil on his breath tickled her senses, and it took tremendous will power not to lean closer to taste him.

  “I believe I’ve found a new favorite taste. I’d better try the last bit to make sure.” He pulled her hand towards his mouth again. She realized too late that the chip was positioned so he couldn’t take it without touching her. She tried to yank away, but he tightened his grip and closed his mouth over her fingers.

  Oh, God.

  Wet, hot suction enveloped her digits. His tongue slid over and between each one, the rough and smooth texture rasping in an erotic dance before sucking at the tips, her nail caught between his teeth.

  Now she knew what those romance books meant when the heroine melted into a puddle at her hero’s feet. Her knees threatened to buckle under the assault, and heat pooled in places she’d rather not think about.

  “Nate.” His name came out like a moan instead of the stern reprimand she intended. She placed her other hand on his chest to push away, but found it curling over hard muscles instead.

  He broke off, his breathing ragged and his face flushed. It seemed his teasing backfired. Before she could think through the consequences let alone react, he lowered his head and kissed her, his hands holding her flush against his unmistakably aroused body. Her nipples puckered at the contact as he deliciously crushed her breasts against him.

  Oh, my God. I’m in heaven.

  For all the intensity in his gaze, his lips were surprisingly soft. His mouth slanted over hers, gently nipping and teasing, encouraging her to open for him. Helpless, she complied. With little licks, he tasted her, his tongue exploring with exquisite tenderness. The pressure of
his mouth lifted, and she struggled to open her eyelids that suddenly felt as if they weighed a ton.

  “I was wrong,” he informed her, his voice a harsh whisper. “You are my favorite flavor.”

  She sank her hands into his hair and pulled him closer. “Have some more then,” she demanded against his mouth. From this moment, she knew she’d forever associate the fresh taste of basil pesto with stomach-curling heat and the sheer thrill of Nate’s kiss.

  He obeyed. As if half-starved, he devoured her, stealing her breath, and her heart rejoiced. This is what she’d suspected lay under his controlled façade. Unleashed, he was all raw passion and strength, mixed with just the right amount of tenderness to make her feel precious. His skilled mouth and tongue made her hunger for more. After this single taste, she was set to explode.

  One arm wrapped around her waist while the other possessively snagged her bottom, pressing her into his arousal. His thigh nudged hers apart, and she welcomed the pressure against her throbbing center, almost sobbing in relief. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she ran them up over the hard ridges of muscle and encountered his nipple. He hissed when she lightly scratched it, and her mouth curved under his as it peaked under the attention. It wasn’t nearly enough. She ached to touch more of him. Suddenly, his body stiffened, and he lifted his head.

  “Your butt’s vibrating.”

  Dazed, she drew back. “What?”

  “Your back pocket.”

  He eased away from her, his body shifting to put some space between them. He blew out a long breath and returned to unpacking the groceries, his posture stiff. He muttered something under his breath. Something about bloody telephones and timing. She grinned. His thoughts seemed to echo her own.

  “Vibrating objects are meant to turn you on, not off,” she joked, watching him closely.

  He paused, his hand clenched around the can of tomatoes before he turned around with a grimace. “Believe me—I don’t need any extra help.”

  His meaning became painfully clear as her gaze dropped to his groin. Smiling seductively, she took a step closer, wanting to continue where they’d left off. Damn the picnic. The knowledge he wanted her gave her courage.

  “Stop.”

  She froze at his harsh tone. The wounded feeling disappeared when she saw the wild look in his eyes, his clenched jaw, and the rigid control he imposed on his body. She did this to him. For the first time in her life, she felt like a desirable woman, not a hulking giant without a feminine bone in her body.

  “If you come any closer, make no mistake, Kelly, I will take you straight to bed.” He lifted his hand as she made to step forward. “I don’t think that would be a good thing for either of us at the moment, do you?”

  He was wrong. It would be a good thing, she thought. Instead, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Next time you start something Nate, you’d better be prepared to finish it. Don’t leave me hanging again.”

  She turned her back on him to cover her annoyance and pulled out her cell phone. The text was from Reece.

  Another victim—same MO. Want me 2 send dtails?

  Biting her lip, she fired off an answer. Yes, thanx Reece.

  Within seconds, her phone buzzed once more and she scanned the text.

  Sending 2 O’Leary’s email now.

  “What’s up?”

  She turned, her thumb rubbing at her necklace repeatedly. “Better check your email. McCabe’s sending details of another victim that’s just been discovered.”

  “Christ. He’s escalating. This thing is getting big.” Pushing off from the bench, he stalked to his computer and brought up his email. “Here it is.”

  He clicked to open and stared at the screen, unnaturally still. His jaw tightened and those beautiful lips of his compressed into a bloodless line. She peeked over his shoulder at the image, and her hand rose to her mouth. A woman lay on a rumpled bed, her limbs spread-eagled and bound to each corner with rope. Her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw suggesting she’d struggled. Kelly’s gaze lifted to her face. The poor girl had probably been beautiful, but it was hard to tell with the damage done to her. Kelly swallowed the bile rising swiftly in her throat. Would she ever get used to such sights?

  “Thoughts?”

  She glanced down into his shuttered expression, envious of the way he seemed to detach himself from such unpleasant images. She straightened her spine and did her best to imitate him, turning her attention back to the image on the screen. “It looks like an older kill. The blood looks as if it’s darkened considerably, and her body is already starting to bloat.” She paused and squinted. “It’s probably just my imagination, but that looks like a friction burn on the side of her neck.” Her finger traced over the curious mark that disappeared under the nape of her neck. “It’s consistent with what I would expect to find if someone wore a necklace and it had been torn off. What has McCabe written underneath about the victim?”

  “Jessica Carson, age twenty-four. Flatmate found her after coming back from a trip overseas. The flatmate had been away for over two weeks and was first alerted to something being wrong by a terrible smell.”

  He raised his chin and gazed at her, his eyes dark with fury. “He had all the time in the world. We’ve got to get this fucker, Kelly.”

  “Yeah, we do,” she agreed and dropped into the chair beside him, her mind going a million miles an hour.

  He turned towards her with a sigh and scrubbed a hand down his face, his movements slow and weary. “It feels like all we’re doing is playing catch-up with this monster. He keeps just out of our reach—taunting us. It’s driving me mad, Kelly.”

  She met his serious gaze and nodded solemnly. “I know, Nate. I’m feeling it, too. Let’s get out for a bit. You need a break. It might help to get the brain cells working. Want to make the coffee? I’ll pack some sandwiches and nibbles.”

  He blinked a couple of times then roused himself to do as she asked, but she could see his mind was far away with those girls who could no longer enjoy the simple pleasure of a summer’s day.

  ****

  Takapuna Beach hummed with activity. Mothers chased toddlers’ intent on escaping the lathering of sun-block, while fathers played beach cricket with older children. Shrieks and squeals mixed pleasantly with the hum of conversation, punctuated occasionally with bursts of laughter, and the smell of barbequed meat permeated the air. A typical Kiwi summer scene. People were happy and enjoying time together. So why did Nate feel an odd sense of menace blanketing the atmosphere?

  He tried to shake it off. No doubt, he was just unsettled by the death count rising and how quickly the bodies were piling up. It was almost as if the bastard were thumbing his nose at them all. Anyone would be unnerved. Contrary to what his peers suggested, he did have feelings. He felt all the same emotions they did, perhaps even more intently. He wasn’t made of steel, and he bled the same as them all. He just excelled at hiding his emotions better than most. Since Thea’s death, it was easier to pretend indifference than to bear the good-intentioned sympathy of his peers. Now, he felt tiny cracks spreading through his façade, and it scared the shit out of him. He might be about to disintegrate.

  Snap out of it, O’Leary. Determined to try to enjoy the respite from the morning’s gruesome work, he lifted the picnic cooler from the car and followed Kelly as she laid the blanket under the shade of an old, gnarled Pohutukawa tree. The New Zealand native with its distinctive red flowers was in full bloom. High above, bees buzzed industriously from stamen to stamen, spoiled for choice. The sound should have been soothing, yet something still ate at him. His eyes scanned the beachfront, searching for the source of his unease.

  “Here.” Kelly handed over an ice, cold beer. “The whole point of being at the beach is to relax. Enjoy the moment and forget everything else for the time-being.” She clinked her bottle against his. “Here’s to being alive.”

  He stretched his stiff lips in the requisite smile and took a long swallow. As the liquid worked its wa
y through his system, he felt the taut muscles in his shoulders start to loosen. With an appreciative sigh, he turned to the woman sprawled out beside him. “Thanks. How is it you seem to know what I need before I do?”

  She shrugged. “I needed this too. It’s been a hellish week. One thing your near-death taught me was to grab life by the balls and squeeze it for every drop of happiness. You never know when your number might be up.”

  Nate choked on a mouthful of beer and winced. “What a metaphor. I wouldn’t have thought to compare squeezing one’s balls and equating it to happiness.”

  Kelly grinned mischievously up at him. “That all depends on who’s doing the squeezing and why, doesn’t it?”

  “Careful,” he growled. The thought of her hand cupping him charged through his brain and heated his blood. He shifted uncomfortably. The little minx only smiled wider. “You’ll get yourself into trouble spouting stuff like that. I’m a police officer you know. I have handcuffs.”

  “Ooo, now who’s being naughty?” she asked, wriggling her brows up and down. “A girl might get all kinds of ideas with that sort of talk.”

  Nate laughed. A deep belly laugh. The release of tension added depth to his mirth until tears streamed down his cheeks. He swiped at them with the back of his hand to find Kelly staring at him with a bemused smile.

  “Who said I was joking?” She paused, then sat up and whipped off her shirt.

  The golden body of a goddess, toned from hours of strict workouts, taunted and tantalized him. He swallowed the mouthful of beer he’d just taken in a loud gulp as his eyes greedily took in their fill. Her breasts would fit in his palms nicely. Not too large, but slightly more than a handful and oh, so firm. As if she’d read his mind, her nipples pebbled under the bikini top. An involuntary groan tore from his throat, and he clamped his lips shut, turning it into a low hum instead. He wanted, no needed to touch her. Ripping his gaze away from the temptress, he fixed it on the gentle lapping of the sea instead and willed his rampant desire to cool.

  “That was a low blow,” he accused when he felt able to utter a coherent sentence.