The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  Kathleen’s brows slammed together.

  “Coffee shop?” Mac inserted, because Kathleen’s tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  “It’s nothing,” Cynthia said, shooting another look at her friend. “We… bumped into him at The Grind a few days ago. Some brunette was draped across his neck like an accessory.”

  When she opened her mouth, closed it, Mac cleared his throat again. “I think that’s all the questions we have for today. Thanks for your help.”

  Kathleen murmured something that she hoped was appropriate and then followed Mac out the door.

  They walked in silence as they headed toward the elevator, where Kathleen pushed the call button.

  “I wouldn’t put much stock in those two’s take on that particular encounter,” Mac murmured.

  Kathleen’s tone was remarkably even considering the fact that the gears in her brain were grinding together. “What makes you think I would?”

  “Well. It could have something to do with the fact that you look like someone shoved a steel rod up your butt.”

  Kathleen narrowed her eyes. Mac raised his brows.

  “Just sayin.’”

  “How about if you just say nothing for the next little while?”

  Mac considered. “I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  When he started whistling, Kathleen bared her teeth.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Mac protested.

  “Yes, you did. You just didn’t use words to say it.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Mac chuckled as he followed her into the car.

  JAMES Wellington nursed his third beer as he sat at the end of the bar in Murphy’s. He’d been here for a while, checking things out and gauging the situation, and he didn’t want to drink to the point that he wasn’t able to drive back home.

  Well, to Justin’s. Which was home for the time being. And would be, James considered, until he’d figured out just what the hell was going on.

  Justin probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that his ‘baby’ brother felt the need to protect him, but at this point, James didn’t much care. Justin – while smart as hell, physically imposing and not anybody’s fool – was also unfailingly ethical. He was fair. Diplomatic. He was the cool voice of reason among five brothers who tended to be hotheads, and occasionally ruthless in getting their way.

  And in a situation where someone was screwing with you to this degree, James didn’t think that diplomacy was going to cut it.

  He couldn’t ask Kathleen what she thought, for various reasons. Also, she’d made it clear to Justin that she’d be incommunicado with their household for the next little while, so even if he thought she would give him a straight and unbiased answer, apparently he couldn’t ask her.

  James found that annoyingly by-the-book at first, but then he considered the fact that if Kathleen wanted to have Justin’s back, she had to make damn sure she wasn’t kicked off the investigation into Mandy’s apparent suicide. And he was fairly certain that Kathleen indeed wanted to have Justin’s back.

  And his front. And all of the other parts in between.

  He’d watched his three oldest brothers, not to mention a number of his friends, tumble headlong into love, and he recognized the signs. Both Justin and his hot cop were goners.

  So, being the quick judge of character that he was, James had ferreted out the Murphy most likely to be… open to helping him.

  That Murphy appeared before him, a bar towel slung over his shoulder, a calculating look on his goateed face.

  “You want a nipple?”

  James studied Declan Murphy, then smiled. “Only if it comes attached to a breast. And from where I’m sitting, you’re sorely lacking in that particular area.”

  “The way you’ve been checking me out tonight, I guess you’d know.” He whipped the towel off his shoulder, polished a spot on the bar. “If I thought you were coming on to me, I’d have to deck you. But since I don’t think you’re gay, I figure you’re sizing me up for something. Why don’t you just get it off your chest before I change my mind and deck you anyway.”

  His smile turned into a grin. He’d definitely chosen the right Murphy. “What do you think about your sister’s ex?”

  Declan looked confused. “Who? Corelli?”

  James nodded.

  “I don’t.”

  He sighed. “You know what I mean. Look, I’m new here, and I don’t have the benefit of previous observation to help me form opinions. You’ve been here forever, and unless I’ve missed my guess, you form opinions at the drop of a hat. And while they may not be complimentary, I think they’re probably pretty accurate. You don’t give a shit about diplomacy, so you don’t strain your observations through the cheesecloth of…let’s call it the benefit of the doubt.”

  That had one corner of the man’s mouth kicking up. “So what you’re saying is that you think I’m an opinionated asshole.”

  “Pretty much.”

  It was Murphy’s turn to grin. “You’re not nearly as hopeless as your brother.”

  “I would object to your classification of my beloved sibling, but since I think I know what caused you to form that opinion, in this case I’ll let it slide.”

  Declan shook his head in disgust. “Three years of mooning is pitiful to watch.” Then his eyes, as shrewd as they were blue, narrowed. “Since it would seem from recent observations that your brother finally got off the stick, I’m assuming you’re not here to ask me to put in a good word with Kathleen. Why are you asking about Corelli?”

  James turned the bottle in his hands. “Has Kathleen mentioned anything to you about… some trouble Justin’s been having?”

  “No. But then she’s not one to gossip about people close to her. Not when it’s really important, anyway. What trouble?”

  James considered that Justin might not be too happy about him spilling all to Kathleen’s brother, but he needed another opinion. And unfortunately, there was no one else he could think to ask.

  “Well, it’s like this…”

  Leaning closer, James filled the man in on what had been transpiring, including the shoeprints at both Justin’s house and at Kathleen’s, as well as the odd coincidences of timing concerning Anthony Corelli’s proximity when a number of those events occurred.

  “And you think that Corelli is screwing with your brother because he’s pissed about losing Kathleen.”

  “Well, it’s a theory,” James said. “Justin brushed it off, and he had a few good reasons for doing so, but I also think that he likes the other man, and knowing Justin, he’s feeling just a little bit guilty for what he would see as poaching.”

  Declan snorted.

  “I know.” James lifted his bottle in agreement. “But you see, Justin – despite his massive and unfailingly logical brain – is also ruled by the finer emotions, and notions of fair play. I’m not so burdened.”

  “Speaking as a man who snatched his wife out from under the nose of her pea brain of a fiancé, I can’t say I’m burdened, either. You snooze, you lose.”

  James nodded. “Indeed. However, back to my original question. What I know of Corelli I’ve gotten from Justin, and I can’t exactly ask Kathleen what she thinks, but I’m sick of sitting around waiting for the next ball to drop. I want to either rule Corelli out, or else I want to find the man and kick his ass into next week.”

  Declan grunted his approval. Then he considered. “He and your brother were in here, a while back. Judging by the black eye Justin was sporting, I gathered Corelli hit him, and there was a decided lack of answering damage on Anthony’s face.”

  “Justin tries not to hit. With his hands, I mean,” James explained. “Aside from not being a brawler in general, he, uh, tries to protect them.” He waggled his fingers. “Tools of his trade.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Declan leaned against the bar top. “You want my opinion, I don’t think that Anthony was ever all that serious about Kathleen. He… cared, sure, but I
think that it was more that he was passing time. They both were. Corelli isn’t stupid, and anybody with eyes could have seen that there was something between my sister and your brother. Anybody but Kathleen, anyway.” He shook his head in disgust. “But apparently, she’s finally pulled her head out there as well. And while I wouldn’t put it past Corelli to protect his territory by means fair or foul, I just don’t see him going to those lengths for my sister.”

  James absorbed that, slightly disappointed. It was basically what Justin had said. But if it wasn’t Corelli who’d been messing with Justin, that meant it was somebody else. If it was Crazy Mandy, and she’d killed herself… well, that would sit on Justin’s conscience for a while, but at least the problem would be over. But there were some details there – the shoe prints not the least among them – that made James wonder.

  If it wasn’t Corelli and it wasn’t Mandy, then who the hell could it be?

  “What do you know about this guy that threatened your sister? Joe… Palmer, I think his name was. The guy who was doing his sister-in-law?”

  Declan’s expression turned grim. “Aside from the fact that if I ever come across him, he’s going to be missing a few vital organs?” He shook his head. “After the thing with the doll in her trunk, Kathleen gave all of us a photo and a little rundown so that we could keep an eye out. And, uh,” Declan cleared his throat. “I may have driven by his residence and his place of employment. To chat.”

  James nodded. “Of course.”

  “By the looks of things, the bastard’s skipped town. Kathleen’s partner and Harding are running down some leads, but…” He shrugged one shoulder, indicating that he hadn’t been inclined to sit by idly while they did their thing. “No one has seen or heard from him in over a week. I also may have talked to his landlady and bought a couple of his coworkers a round at the bar he frequented.”

  “Very friendly of you.”

  “I’m a friendly guy.”

  Sucking in a cheek over that bit of absurdity, James ran this new information through his head. “Do you happen to know what shoe size the guy wears?”

  Another snort. “Sure, and would you like to know whether he wears boxers or briefs?” Then Declan crossed his arms as he considered. “It probably wouldn’t be difficult to find out.”

  “No?”

  The older man looked James over. “Can you be charming?”

  A slow smile lifted his lips, bringing his dimple into play. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “The landlady,” Declan finally said. “She’s a cougar.”

  James lifted a brow. “And I’m what? A gazelle?”

  “Depends on how badly you want to see the inside of the man’s apartment. She indicated to me that, since Palmer was well behind on his rent, she’d be clearing the place out soon if he didn’t show up. And she asked if I was interested. In renting.”

  James was starting to get the picture. “Being new in town and all, I’m going to have to find a place to live.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And I’d like to have a look at the apartment, even if it isn’t quite empty yet.”

  “There you go.”

  “How old a cougar are we talking?”

  “The facelift says forty, but I’d tack another decade onto that, give or take.”

  James tilted his beer to his lips. “Dinner?”

  “If you’re lucky, you’ll escape with that.”

  “No problem.”

  Declan studied him for a moment. “I think I like you, Wellington.”

  “That’s nice, but I think we’ve already established that I find your figure lacking. Hopefully we can still be friends.”

  He laughed, a rusty sound that had other people at the bar looking in their direction. “Here.” He pulled a fresh beer from the tap, slid it in James’ direction. “This one’s on me.”

  “I feel so special.”

  Shaking his head, Declan walked off toward the other end of the bar to attend to his other customers.

  James smiled as he sipped the fresh drink.

  It had been a gamble, uprooting his life, coming to Charleston. But he thought he was going to like living here just fine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  KATHLEEN read the text from Anthony again. Not that she hadn’t understood it the first time. But she was still undecided as to what to do.

  The lab report had finally come back in, and the paint sample taken from Shelley Kinson’s car matched the paint on Kathleen’s car. Chances were good that it had indeed been her vehicle which attempted to run Kathleen off the road.

  The question that she still couldn’t seem to answer was: why?

  Josh and Mac were apparently running down a lead with regards to the purchase of the doll she’d found in her trunk, and Josh told her that it involved video footage of an as-yet unidentified man. That in itself didn’t rule out a connection to the Kinson woman, of course, but after looking at it from almost every conceivable angle, Kathleen just couldn’t come up with a motive. It seemed more likely that the two events were completely unrelated. The first could have been road rage – opiate induced or otherwise. The second – it just didn’t click. The fact that, according to Josh again, Joe Palmer appeared to have left town, made it seem much more likely that he’d been responsible for the doll. Maybe a parting shot before skipping out.

  Anyway, that left her with the question of whether or not she should turn the lab results over to the Mount Pleasant PD and let them pursue it. If the Kinson woman was prone to that sort of thing, she was a road menace that needed to be dealt with.

  Shooting an answering text back to Anthony indicating that she would pick up the paperwork the next day, he quickly responded with an offer to drop it off at the Mount Pleasant PD himself. Kathleen hesitated. It was his old stomping grounds, so to speak, and he’d probably be able to play on their relationship to make it look like he was simply doing a favor for an ex-girlfriend. Which he was. But she’d also hired him, and that might not make the MPPD feel too kindly. If Anthony handled it right – which she trusted him to do – they might avoid ruffling feathers while still giving his former coworkers the information they needed to help build their case.

  Having run all that through her head, Kathleen decided that Anthony had a point. The politics and red tape involved in police work could be a real pain in the ass.

  Sounds good. Thanks, she sent back. She held onto her phone as she walked down the sidewalk, fighting the temptation to call, text or send up a damn smoke signal to Justin. Not being able to hear his voice – let alone see him – was proving to be more difficult than she would have guessed. A small, petty part of her hoped that he was miserable, as visions of brunettes hanging on him in coffee shops danced through her head.

  But she told that petty part to shut up. If there was one thing she knew about Justin, it was that he was honorable to a fault. She’d seen plenty of women all but throw themselves at him over the years, but he didn’t… catch them if he were otherwise involved.

  Kathleen dropped her phone into her pocket just as a dark SUV pulled up to the curb. The passenger door opened.

  “Get in,” Justin said.

  “Justin.” Kathleen glanced around, then moved closer. “What are you doing here?”

  “Kidnapping you. Get in.”

  Amusement warred with frustration and a yearning that made her heart skip a beat. “I can’t,” she said, blowing out a breath as frustration won out. “A couple more days and I’ll have these loose ends tied up. I’m sorry, but –”

  Her voice trailed off as Justin shoved the gearshift into park, climbed out. Then he simply picked her up.

  “Justin.” Surprise and frustration mingled with embarrassment and just a tiny bit of mad. “You can’t just manhandle me on a public street. I’m a cop, for God’s sake.” But she caught a whiff of his scent – soap and man, with an underlying hint of something antiseptic – and she went dizzy for a moment and then found herself planted in the passenger seat. />
  The door shut in her face.

  He walked around, climbed in, and shoved the gearshift back into drive.

  “What,” she said to his profile, reaching for a reasonable tone “the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Kidnapping you. I already said that.”

  Exasperation made her blink. “And as I already said, you can’t –”

  “Actually, I just did.” He maneuvered deftly through downtown traffic, turning onto a side street.

  She had no idea what had gotten into him. “Look, I know you’re probably upset and frustrated right now–”

  He snorted. “You think?”

  Kathleen took a moment to compose her thoughts. Justin’s knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel. Clearly, he’d reached some sort of snapping point. She wondered what had happened.

  “I… wish,” she said slowly “that I could talk to you about this right now. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, and I don’t blame you for… whatever it is you’re feeling.” He turned into a narrow alley, deserted but for a dumpster at the far end. “But I can’t talk –”

  “Then don’t.”

  He stopped the car and when he reached for her, the look on his face had her breath backing up in her throat. “Justin.”

  But then his mouth was on hers, hungry and demanding, and the objections she knew she should be making seemed to be stuck in her throat along with her breath. He kissed her, tongue invading, lips mastering, until Kathleen forgot where she was.

  Forgot who she was.

  His hands roamed inside the jacket of her suit, pulling up her blouse, exploring beneath it. Long fingers slid inside the lace cup of her bra, cupping, then lightly pinching.

  His breath was hot on her throat, even as the air – warmer than it had been, but still cool – pressed against the windows, which started to fog.

  “Just –” the second syllable of his name was cut off by a gasp as his hands began their good work under her skirt. Her thighs parted of their own accord when his fingers, strong and deft, found their way beneath her hose. He rubbed, his aim unerring, bringing her to a swift and startling climax.