by C. D. Hersh
“Lexi, sweetheart. We need to go now.” When she didn’t move, he gently took her arm and guided her toward the truck. She came willingly. Wishing she would break down and cry or say something, he bundled her into the truck. Holding all that grief inside couldn’t be good. He backed the truck out of the alley and started down the street.
Suddenly, Alexi screamed, “Stop!”
His reflexes taking over, he slammed on the brakes. “What?” He glanced around. No cars or pedestrians near them. “Sheesh, Alexi. Why’d you scream like that? Scared the crap outta me.”
“I’m hungry,” she said as she hopped out of the truck. “Park the truck. I’ll wait for you in there.” She pointed toward the Dew Drop Inn.
The tires squealed as he swung into a parking space. He jumped out of the truck. He was in trouble now, especially if the bartender he’d interviewed was working tonight.
Rhys chose a table as far away from the bar as he could. Alexi ordered a pastrami on rye and a diet soda. He contemplated a double shot of whiskey then decided against it when he noticed the barkeep was a woman. His secret was safe . . . for now.
Alexi picked at her sandwich, making him suspect she had more than eating on her mind. “Want to tell me the real reason you wanted to stop?”
She swirled the ice around in her soda glass then searched the room. “Do you think he was in here before he died?”
”Baron? I don’t know why.” She flashed him a don’t-act-like-I’m-stupid look, and he hastened to amend his statement. “It’s possible, though, since this is nearby.”
“We should ask some questions.”
“The captain put you on bereavement leave. I don’t think he’d like it if we started interrogating people.”
“You’re not on bereavement leave. You could ask the questions and share the info with me.”
“I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like that either.”
“It seems like we’re sitting around doing nothing while Baron’s killer gets away.”
“It might help if we could figure out why he was wearing that dress. A man like Baron wearing a dress would be pretty difficult to miss, but no one seems to have noticed anything like that.”
Alexi’s eyes narrowed and she stared at him, suspicion lighting her gaze. “How would you know?” She shoved her half-eaten sandwich aside, rose part way out of her chair, and angled over the table toward him. “What do you know that you’re not telling?”
He tipped the chair onto the back legs and tried to act nonchalant. “I’m just saying you wouldn’t miss a sight like that. If someone had seen him, it would be in the case files, and the captain wouldn’t continue to wonder about Baron’s dress. Would he?”
“I suppose not.” Alexi sat back down and rubbed her face, cringing when she touched her cheek where she had been hit.
Rhys stood. “We need to get you home and get some ice on that.” Alexi didn’t move as she gazed longingly around the bar. He could almost see the need to interrogate swirling up from inside her. He slapped a twenty on the table and gripped Alexi by the arm. Time to get her out of here before it was too late.
Chapter 17
“Did you give the description to the police?”
Alexi shut her bedroom door and whispered into the cell phone to Sylvia. “Who did you shift to?”
“Someone who owes me a big favor.” Sylvia sounded casual, as if they were talking about a new dress, not someone’s life.
Her laissez-faire attitude rankled Alexi. Did the woman have no heart? “Big enough to go to jail?”
“Bigger. He’ll take the fall for Baron’s murder, too.”
Alexi inhaled sharply at what Sylvia suggested. “You can’t do that. He’ll get life, or worse, for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“You’re such a sanctimonious sissy.” The words came out as an annoyed sound that reminded Alexi of a hissing iguana. “You forget who I am.”
“Another crooked political appointee?” Alexi said, referring to Sylvia’s high-ranking Homeland Security position.
“Who we are,” Sylvia added.
Alexi knew who she was, at least who she’d been before this cloak-and-dagger Turning Stone stuff had started. “I’m a homicide cop trying to find my uncle’s killer. Who are you?”
“I’m a Turning Stone member, Alexi. Just like you. We have a great responsibility on our shoulders. We’re members of a secret society that holds the balance of good and evil in our hands.”
“Seems we’re heading the wrong direction on this one,” Alexi said, unable to hide the contempt in her voice.
“This is for Society good.” Sylvia’s frustration thrummed across the phone line. “Didn’t Baron teach you anything?”
“Apparently not the same things he taught you. My uncle stood for all things good and just. He taught me the Turning Stone Society, and the power it wields, should be used for the good of mankind.
“The power we’ve been entrusted with is not ours to use as we want. Baron would never use it to frame someone, and he’d never go along with what you’re proposing.”
And he wouldn’t have identified an innocent man. Guilt suffocated her like water suffocated a drowning man. “I have to tell the truth. I don’t want this man’s blood on my hands.”
“Don’t be such a bleeding heart. He won’t get the chair.”
The fleeting thought that death might be easier than imprisonment ran through her head in spite of her earlier protest. She’d sent her fair share of guilty perps there. “And what about his freedom?”
“He’s well compensated. Besides, the end justifies the means.”
Alexi gripped her cell phone so tight her hand hurt. Who was Sylvia to play God with a man’s life? Indignant, she ground a response out between clenched teeth. “Nothing justifies sacrificing an innocent man.”
“Who said he was innocent?”
Sylvia’s comment set Alexi back. Who was she dealing with? A woman who ran with criminals? Someone who believed anything could be done for the sake of the Society?
“Do you want to catch Baron’s killer and get the ring back . . . or not?”
“Of course.”
“Then you have to trust me on this.”
Alexi inhaled to hide the snort of doubt threatening to erupt. Sylvia’s actions, so far, tipped more toward caginess than confidence. Every instinct inside her screamed, Run! Get as far away from this woman as you can before she drags you down.
But who else could she rely on?
Sylvia’s tip provided the first real break in her search for Baron’s killer. If he hadn’t thrown his take all over the sidewalk, she would have collared him. Because of Sylvia, she had a description of the guy. All her police contacts had netted nothing.
As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Sylvia. Somehow, she had to figure out how to walk in the dusk that spanned their ethics, yet keep her integrity intact.
“Alexi,” Sylvia said when she didn’t answer right away. “Are you with me?”
“Do I have a choice?
“No.”
Sylvia’s smug tone scraped Alexi’s sense of principles like a dentist scaling teeth, sending a chill up her spine. This was not going to be easy.
“Lexi?” Rhys’ knock interrupted her phone conversation.
“What?” Alexi raised her voice to be heard through the bedroom door.
“Captain Williams called. They got the intruder. He wants you to make a line-up ID.”
“That was quick,” Alexi whispered into the cell phone.
“This ought to get lover boy off you,” Sylvia said. “Maybe then we can get down to business. Call me when you’re free again.”
The line went dead and so did a piece of Alexi’s soul. If I keep doing whatever you want me to, I’ll never be free. She shoved the phone into her pocket and opened the bedroom door. Rhys stood on the other side, grinning.
“He confessed to Baron’s murder, too.” Rhys picked Alexi up and swung her around. “You’re safe.”
Just like Sy
lvia promised. What kind of woman was she dealing with? The answer came unbidden.
A very powerful woman.
Alexi kept reminding herself that the man she pointed out in the line-up had already confessed to two crimes. He knew the risks. She wasn’t framing him.
In spite of that knowledge, her conscience assaulted her. She had never told lies of this magnitude. She’d been tight-lipped to protect others’ privacy. Avoided topics to guard secrets. Skirted issues to keep from lying. But these bold-faced untruths laid a heavy burden on her heart.
I’m sorry, Baron. I’m letting you down. But I can’t let your death go unpunished, and if this is the only way to be free to search . . . well, you’ll just have to forgive me.
“You’re certain that’s the man?” Captain Williams asked.
“That’s him.” Anxious to escape the object of her deceit, she moved away from the two-way mirror. “Can I go now?”
“Sure,” the captain said.
She started to leave then stopped. “Now that we’ve got Baron’s killer I’d like to come back to work.” The captain didn’t answer right away, and she hurried to reinforce her request. “I’m going stir-crazy staring at four walls . . . and Rhys . . . all day.”
Rhys clutched his chest. “I’m wounded, Lexi.”
“I’m an independent woman. Having you on my back twenty-four-seven is killing me.”
The captain raised his eyebrows at Rhys. “Twenty-four-seven? What are you doing, Temple? Sleeping on her?”
“Something like that,” Rhys said, as the corner of his mouth quirked upward in a tiny smile.
Alexi hoped she was the only one who noticed the gleam in his eyes that accompanied his veiled comment to their first time as lovers.
“Let her come back. Captain.”
Williams nodded. “Report back tomorrow morning. Both of you.”
“Not today?” Alexi asked.
“Take the rest of the day off and celebrate finding your uncle’s killer.”
“Come on, Lexi,” Rhys said.
The way Rhys’ eyes twinkled told her what kind of celebration he had in mind.
Rhys’ stockinged foot working its way from her ankle to her knee disconcerted Alexi so that she dropped her Chinese takeout on her lap.
“Finished?” he asked, as he slid his half-empty paper plate across the kitchen table.
She shoved in another mouthful of fried rice and mumphed out a barely articulate, “No.”
A shiver of delight trailed behind his touch as Rhys’ foot climbed her thigh. She hastily swallowed the rice and swatted at his nudging digits. “Are you trying to choke me?”
His foot dropped off her leg. “Following orders. Captain said celebrate.”
“I think he had dinner and a movie in mind. Not the horizontal mambo.”
“Don’t you want to?”
She couldn’t stop her smile from spreading. She wanted to.
“That’s all I need to know,” Rhys said as he pulled her into his arms.
Chapter 18
Kissing Alexi was becoming like breathing. He needed it to feel alive. Lips glued to hers, Rhys fumbled with the tiny blouse buttons marching down the front of her chest.
As his hands brushed her breast, she gasped, then broke contact and started stripping off her watch and jewelry.
He groaned as her body left his. Cupping one hand on her bottom, he drew her hips against him, his fingers fumbling with the blouse buttons.
“Couldn’t you have worn a zipper?” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck. He shoved her blouse sleeve down, popping buttons off as the sleeve slid over her arm, knocking the items in her hand onto the floor as he stripped off the garment.
“Rhys,” she whispered. “You’re ruining my clothes. Slow down.”
Desire raged in him and he couldn’t get to her quick enough. He slowed his caresses to match her needs, removing the rest of her clothing, and his, in a slow, deliberate manner, until nothing remained between them. The fire that burned at the base of his spine raged by the time they were naked.
The flame intensified as he lowered Alexi onto the bed, racing up his back, through his arms, and back down into his groin. He deepened his kisses, waiting for the explosion that coursed through him the last time he’d made love to her.
He flipped her to the top, keeping his eyes open as she rode him. Trying to maintain control so he could watch what happened to her when she climaxed. Their last time together had freaked him out, but when she’d told him their body shifting meant they were soul mates, he realized he wanted to be her soul mate. As bizarre as that experience had been, he now wanted their bodies to exchange. Wanted confirmation that she was the only woman for him and he was the only man for her.
A shudder ran through Alexi as their passion exploded. She dipped her head toward his, the curtain of her black hair sweeping across his face as she bent toward him. He struggled to keep his focus on Alexi. Fevered hazel eyes stared at him. Her eyes. Not his. As she collapsed against him, he briefly wondered what had happened.
Where was the exquisite pain?
The shooting prism fireworks?
That scary atom-by-atom meltdown?
Where had his soul mate gone?
Alexi rolled off Rhys, and snuggled under the covers against him. “That was nice,” she murmured. “No, more like great.”
He grunted a response—not negative, yet not the same enthusiastic reply he’d given her the last time.
“What’s wrong?” Alexi asked as she rose onto one elbow.
“Nothing, sweetheart.” He eased her back down into the crook of his arm. “It’s just that after last time I thought there’d be a more . . . power.”
Power? What the heck did that mean? If you wanted power, maybe you should have taken the top.
Miffed that he found her lacking, she shoved away from him. “Maybe it would help if I start doing manly push-ups. How many a day would make it better for you?” She heard the sarcasm in her voice but no way would she apologize. He’d hurt her feelings.
He propped himself on his elbow and laid his hand on her arm. “Don’t take it like that. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Just what did you mean?”
“That morphing thing that happened in the hotel.”
She shot out of the bed, dragging the covers with her. “The hotel? I . . . we. . .?” She hadn’t been with him in a hotel.
But Sylvia had.
That explained the sexy tee shirt remark he’d made after Sylvia sucker punched her. At the hotel, he’d thought Sylvia was her . . . and he thinks we . . . but it was really.... She took a deep breath and held back her rising temper.
She was going to kill Sylvia.
“What are you talking about?” She tried to keep her voice even and light.
“Don’t you remember?”
“No.” And that was the truth. Time to play the amnesia card. “Maybe the intruder knocked that memory out.”
“Too bad,” Rhys said. “Quite a romp. Scared the hell out of me the first time.”
“First time?” Alexi echoed. She was definitely going to kill Sylvia. “You experienced it more than once?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’d hoped it would happen again. Tonight.”
“Why, if it scared you so bad?”
“The soul mate thing.”
“You think we’re soul mates?” She softened toward him. How could she stay mad at him when he thought they were soul mates? “Why?”
“That’s what you said.”
“Because . . .”
“We changed into each other.”
Alexi felt her eyes pop open wide. “Changed into each other?” He’d shifted into Sylvia’s form? Wait. He had to have shifted into her form if he thought she and he . . . But how had that happened?
“I’m sorry you don’t remember.”
“Me, too.” She let him tug her back against him. Better keep her surprise at his confession a secret.
Just one more
secret to hide from him.
But how could she tell him he’d cheated on her when he thought they’d experienced some soul-mate-bonding thing? Was it really cheating if he thought it was her?
“Rhys?”
“Humm?” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck.
“If it doesn’t happen again, will you continue to believe we’re soul mates?”
The gold flecks in his green eyes sparked into fiery stars as he entangled her hair in his hands. The room tipped.
“We’ll keep trying . . . even it takes the rest of our lives.”
His declaration reassured her and she closed the gap between them, nestling her body against him.
No matter how much she needed Sylvia’s help, if she ever touched her man again, the bitch would die.
Chapter 19
One good thing had come from her deceit: Rhys had stopped dogging her.
Alexi raised her fist and pounded on Sylvia’s room door. She wanted answers . . . and she wanted them now.
A perfectly coiffed Sylvia appeared at the door, a frown marring her flawlessly made-up face. Alexi wished she’d dressed better for this confrontation—something more than a hint of blush, mascara, a tee shirt, and jeans.
“Do you always bang on doors at six a.m.?” Sylvia asked.
“Too early for you?”
“Not at all. I was merely considering my fellow hotel mates.” Sylvia opened the door wider and snapped her fingers. A man, with the demeanor of a weasel, scurried past Alexi.
“Entertaining?” She watched him slink down the hall.
“That is none of your business.” Sylvia folded her arms across her chest, her body language emphasizing her crisp rebuttal.
Alexi maneuvered her way into the room. “It is now. If you’re screwing the likes of him, and Rhys, I’ve a right to know what kind of diseases you might have infected my partner with.”
The door shut with a bang. Sylvia confronted Alexi, eyes glittering like black diamonds, mouth drawn into a red slash.
Faced with Sylvia’s anger, Alexi inexplicably thought about apologizing. That crack about the clap might have been a bit uncalled for. In spite of her low-class associates, she didn’t really believe Sylvia would be screwing the likes of “weasel man”.