04 A Killing Touch

by Nikki Duncan

  “Get your ass back in bed. I’ll take you home.”

  “From bed?”

  His mouth morphed into a greedy grin. His dick danced up and down. “After.”

  Lana scratched the inside corner of a brow with a pinky nail. “Presumptuous.”

  “Not really.” He pushed away from the wall and moved to her.

  He didn’t walk, stride or meander. Those were all terms too soft to explain the way he moved. None of them had the power to raise her pulse rate. No. He moved with purpose. He stalked her like a jungle cat on the prowl. Stalked her as if he’d reached the end of his hunt and was ready to pounce.

  Desire lodged in her throat. Her stomach flip-flopped. She swallowed.

  “I’m not having sex with you again, Aidan.”

  “Sure you are.” He closed the remaining distance, grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him. “If you want me to check into your theories, you’ll humor me.”

  “Screw yourself!” She jerked free of him and stepped away from his butterscotch scent that she loved. “Never in my life have I bartered for favors with sex. No fucking way I’m starting now.”

  “You seem so sure of yourself, but you’ll cave.”

  “You mean I’ll turn into what you expect? I’ll trade you or someone else for the sake of a byline.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’re an ass.” She turned back to the door. “I’m going home to get ready for work.”

  His giant hand slapped against the door at eye level.

  Her mouth went dry. In her periphery, she saw his bicep twitching. He couldn’t deny his body’s tells. He was acting cool and controlled, but it was a fight. At least she wasn’t alone in her battle.

  “Aidan.” She sounded strange even to herself. Breathy. Hungry for what he offered. “I’ve accepted your disregard of what I do for a living. I will not accept this attitude toward me.”

  She turned and faced him without removing her hand from the door handle. “I’m not the kind of woman who will sacrifice her morals.”

  His jaw twitched in time with his bicep. He was nowhere near as in control as he’d like. Damn if it didn’t give her a thrill.

  “Then stay because you want to,” he whispered as he leaned in and brushed a tender kiss against the pulse in her neck. “Stay because you enjoy your time with me.”

  “You’re still trying to manipulate the situation.” But he was wearing her down and the weakness began in her knees. “You can’t keep me in bed all day.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He kissed her behind her ear, a vulnerable spot he exploited greedily. “It’s the only time you stop arguing.”

  “We have jobs to do.” The weakness was spreading, softening her spine.

  “It could be argued that keeping you from breaking the law to get a story fits within the parameters of mine.”

  “That’s a stretch and we both know it.” She braced herself against the door, still gripping the handle. The first time he moved his hand she was gone. It was self-preservation to get out before the hard Aidan reappeared. Besides, he wouldn’t follow her without his clothes on.

  “Lana.”

  “Aidan, stop.” She’d had enough of the back and forth with him. Generally it would excite her, but at the moment it only jeopardized her emotionally. “You seem very concerned with what I may do when I leave here.”

  “Because you’re sneaky.”

  “Let me set your mind at ease. I’m going home to shower and dress for work.”

  “I have a shower.”

  “Yes, and while your dark clothes and leather jacket can be worn from day to day without raising questions, my wardrobe runs to a different style.”

  “I like your style.” He slid a finger along the line of her blouse buttons. “I especially like your lingerie style.”

  “Something else I need to change.” She braced a hand on his chest and shoved him back a step. “I had a good time last night, but good-bye.”

  She opened the door and stepped into the tropically landscaped courtyard.

  “I’ll look into your theory.”

  Lana turned back and studied him. He didn’t seem worried about a neighbor possibly seeing him. He didn’t seem to be continuing his scheme. He seemed…genuine.

  Her neck prickled. He was up to something. “What’s it going to cost me?”

  “Back off the doctor for a day. Let me do some checking.”

  “Straight answer, Aidan. Do you think I’m on to something?”

  She was hesitant to believe him, whatever he said, but he had the best shot at getting access to confidential records. If the deaths were connected, if they were being orchestrated, protocols needed to be followed to make sure evidence could be admitted in court. She made a living by getting the scoop, but not at the cost of others.

  “You seem to think you are.” His voice softened, wavered a bit. “You asked for help, so you somehow suspect danger. Let me do some legwork.”

  “Fine.” It wasn’t the agreement she’d hoped for, but she’d take it. “I have something else to follow up on anyway.”

  “Great.” He reached out a hand and cocked his head. “Now will you please come back to bed?”

  “No.” She laughed and shook her head. The “please” had to have cost him, and it would have worked if he’d been touching her, but she wasn’t giving in. “Still stinks too much of trading sexual favors.”

  Lana pivoted on the ball of her foot.

  “Lana.”

  She stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  “You took a cab to the doctor’s office. Where’s your car?”

  “My neighbor borrowed it.”

  Aidan grabbed the keys he’d dropped when they came in. “Take my car. Liam will pick me up. We’ll swap back later.”

  Lana took the keys, kissed Aidan on the cheek and strode away with a “thanks, man”. She was glad Aidan agreed to look into her suspicions, yet gratitude didn’t mean she wouldn’t do her own digging.

  By seven a.m. she was heading out her front door for the office. Pleased to find that her neighbor had returned her car as promised, Lana was just about to pull out of her spot when her phone rang.

  She checked the caller ID and frowned. Her ex, who was doing fellowship with the local ME’s office, had been the one to discover a commonality between the rashes. She’d agreed to help him with the writing side of the paper he hoped to get published. As a result, his mentioning the cases to her had been only natural, unlike how the deaths occurred.

  “Good morning, Nigel.”

  “Hello, darling. Another body is on the way in.” He cut to the chase, like he always did, after his impersonally intimate greeting. His “hello darlings” meant less to him than a hello to a stranger on the street. It was his way of sounding like he cared while he protected himself from expectations that came with relationships. At least until he got to know someone well.

  It had been one of the things that had drawn her to him. She’d been intrigued and irritated by turns, but it was what made his choice of working with the dead so logical for him.

  “Damn.” Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, Lana reached into her purse for her Bluetooth. “How long?”

  “It’ll be here within the hour.”

  “Do you have…? Hold on.” She set her phone in her lap and turned on the Bluetooth. As soon as the connection was made, she went on. “Do you have any information on the body?”

  “Overheard a cop saying she wasn’t fresh.”

  Ugh. She hated callous cop speak. Many of them seemed to get so used to death they forgot the victims had once been people. “Any idea what cop?”

  “Sounded like Lionetti. Hardened Jersey accent.” Nigel’s British accent flavored his words with a depth of class that he gave no thought to. Combined with his all-work-no-play seriousness and the tone made him come across as a snob.

  “Thanks, Nigel.” She’d give Lionetti a visit. If it wasn’t him she’d figure out whom, but there weren’t a lot of form
er New Yorkers in the Miami P.D. When she found the cop she’d find out about the scene and any family. “Let me know when you find out more?”

  “Yep. See you later.”

  Lana disconnected the call with Nigel and immediately called Lionetti’s station. “Miami—”

  “Hey, Jonah! It’s Lana.”

  “Hey, Toots.” The tiny desk clerk with the huge African voice flirted instantly. He was one of Lana’s favorite people at the P.D., partly because he gave her information. Mostly because he was an all-around great guy. “What story you cookin’?”

  “Still trying to figure it out. Listen, I hear Lionetti caught an odd one this morning.”

  “How do you hear these things? He’s still on scene.”

  “I’m a reporter. I don’t reveal my sources.” And she never ran with a story until the time was right.

  “Which is probably why you have so many. What can I do for you?”

  “Tell me where Lionetti is.”

  “Seventh and 32nd. West Little Havana.”

  “Thanks, Jonah.” With her direction plotted in her mind, Lana headed for Lionetti.

  “I didn’t tell you anything,” Jonah insisted.

  “You never do.” Lana hung up and used the drive to run over the information she’d gathered. She considered calling Aidan, to avoid a fight later. But she was doing what he’d asked. She’d backed off the doctor for the moment.

  She pulled up to the crime scene and parked between the ME tech’s van and a patrol car. A small distance away she watched them load the body bag on the gurney for transport. A local news station cameraman loitering just beyond the police line checked his camera. Rose Stevens glossed her lips nearby. Lionetti stood talking with the onsite ME. Lana avoided the on-air reporter and headed toward Lionetti. “Hey, Lionetti.”

  “Quinn.” Lionetti turned his scruffy-bearded, bald self her way. Resignation whip-snapped in his Jersey accent and deepened the lines peeking from beneath his glasses. He jerked his head toward Rose. “Reporters belong over there. What are you doing here?”

  “My job, and you know you’d rather give me information than her. I won’t print your name or picture.” Lana jerked her head to the body bag. The stench of rotted life slapped at her and had her breathing shallowly through her mouth. It didn’t really help. “What’s the case?”

  “Jane Doe found in a box.” Lionetti shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the scene. “Looks like a severe allergy attack. Probably ate something she shouldn’t and couldn’t get to help in time.”

  “She been here long?”

  “A few days,” the ME tech said. “We’ll know more when we get her on the table.”

  “What are you going to say on camera?”

  “I don’t do camera interviews.” Lionetti sneered toward Rose. “Especially with the likes of her.”

  Lana silently thanked the anonymity she could give her sources. And the time that print news gave her to go more in depth with her stories. On this one, only the allergy angle fit. The other victims had been quickly discovered by family or friends. What made this Jane Doe different? “Is the vic covered with a hideous rash? Pustules of varying sizes and shades of red?”

  Lionetti narrowed his skeptical gaze. “How do you know these things?”

  “Sources. Are you confirming the rash?”

  Lionetti and the ME tech exchanged glances. The tech took a sudden interest in the wheels of the gurney. Lionetti shook his head in defeat. He knew how to use sources too. “Fine. Yes. What do you know?”

  Instead of answering, she stepped to the gurney and pointed at the bag. She held her breath, only allowing a shallow inhale through her mouth when she most needed air. “Can I see?”

  “It’s not a pretty sight, Lana.”

  “I promise not to throw up on your scene.”

  Lionetti nodded at the tech, who unzipped the bag. Foul and violent, the stink of death hit her first. Bile burned in Lana’s stomach but she held it down.

  A woman with long, dark hair was covered in the pustules the other bodies had. Sections of her skin had begun to slip. She’d been dead awhile judging by the decay. On her right cheek was a concentration of smaller pustules in four long lines, each the width of a finger. Lining her left jawbone was another line of the smaller pustules. This time the line was shorter and a little wider. Like a thumb.

  This touch was more personal than the others. As if her face had been cupped as she looked into the eyes of her killer.

  “See what you wanted?”

  “Unfortunately.” Not wanting to contaminate evidence, she motioned for the tech to close the bag. “There are two more bodies in the morgue with this same kind of rash.”

  Lionetti spoke hesitantly. “You saying this isn’t an accidental death?”

  She shrugged. “I’m saying it’s not unique.”

  Lionetti told the tech to get the body back to the ME’s office and then turned back to Lana. With a nod for her to follow he walked to a box well away from the other reporters. She didn’t need to be told it was where the woman had been found. The moisture staining the cardboard was enough evidence.

  “What do you know, Quinn?”

  “Maybe nothing.”

  “And maybe something.”

  She didn’t want to tell him, but holding back would only make him resent her if there was a connection between victims and the FBI tromped in on the investigation. If she warned him, he’d know what to expect and while he may not appreciate losing the case he at least wouldn’t be able to say she hadn’t been straightforward. “The FBI is looking into a series of deaths by allergic reaction. Each victim has a rash similar to hers.”

  “You’re saying I should expect a call taking this case from me.” Bitterness weighted his accusation. He didn’t like the idea of sharing the glory with anyone; it was a part of his reputation that had preceded him from New Jersey. He especially didn’t like the feds moving in on a case of his. No cop did.

  “It’s possible they’ll be contacting you. I don’t know if they’ll want to take over or not.” She hoped so, because the team Aidan worked on had an almost perfect record for closing cases. “Thanks for letting me look.”

  “Already wishing I hadn’t.”

  Certain she was still on to something, and that this body was related to the others, Lana resolved to visit Dr. Reede, the Chief Medical Examiner, before the day was out. In the meantime, she’d head back to the office and do some digging into Jane Doe.

  Chapter Four

  “Tyler.” Aidan stepped into the tech room connected to their enclosed work area. “You find anything?”

  Tyler glanced briefly away from his screens before returning his focus to the machine. It was more of an acknowledgement than Aidan had expected, because interruptions typically met with greetings as chilly as the air keeping the machines cool.

  “Lana’s thorough. I’ve found nothing relating the vics to the allergist beyond what she already told you.” Tyler’s foot tapped steadily in time with some obscure metal band only he knew the name of. His dirty blond head bobbed with the rhythm. The beat rocked, but the lyrics were a stream of screams. Thankfully the room was well insulated for climate control so once Aidan stepped out he wouldn’t have to listen to the noise.

  Well-insulated and filled wall-to-wall with shelves packed full of gadgets and gizmos, servers and screens, the room was perfect for their tech expert who preferred circuit boards to most humans. Tyler half sat in an ergonomic drafting chair he rarely used correctly as he was frequently rolling from one monitor to the next. He’d deliver intel on the go without the slightest pause in his work.

  “Anything relating the vics?”

  “Other than death by allergy, no. One was an elderly woman who died in assisted living. Her health had been failing, but cause of death is down as allergic reaction. The other was a young man, early twenties, working as an insurance auditor. There were witnesses to his death. Allergic reaction.”

  “They do an autop
sy on him?”

  “No. The witness statements were all the same. One minute he was eating and was fine. The next he was swelling up and then dead.” Tyler grabbed a corner rail of a shelf and pulled his chair around to another monitor. “I’m writing a program to run both victims simultaneously. An algorithm will work through their known pasts and the people in them to look for cross points. It’s going to take some time.”

  Tyler was good in the field, but when he stepped up to technology he was at his best. He’d been pulled into the unit because of the mass quantity of tech crimes they seemed to work, and because his tech skills could help with the non-tech crimes. Sometimes, even Tyler and his gadgets weren’t fast enough.

  “I’m running out of time before Lana’s going to show up and demand answers.”

  “I’m working as fast as I can.” Tyler shrugged a ropey shoulder that was stronger than it looked. “She doesn’t like it, she can kiss my ass.”

  Aidan’s jaw clenched. Lana didn’t need to be kissing another man’s ass—literally or figuratively. She didn’t need to kiss anyone’s anything. He shook his head to stop the track of thoughts. They’d had some awesome sex. They were not a couple. He did not have any claims on her. Damn it. “It’s not that simple, Tyler.”

  “Look, Aidan.” Tyler turned his caramel gaze to Aidan. “I am working as fast as possible, but since these deaths are different people with different situations and no autopsies have been done, I can’t give you proof as to which of you is right. There may or may not be a case here.”

  Which meant Lana would be back on her path of tracking down the doctor. Not that she’d get anything.

  Aidan had gone to Dr. Grayson’s office and found himself blocked by the stone wall of the office manager, Jayleen Somers. She said she’d never heard of the auditor, they knew nothing about his death, they couldn’t divulge the identities of their patients without a court order, and Dr. Grayson had apparently been openly candid in his article, as opposed to cautiously candid.

  As for talking directly with Dr. Grayson… The good doctor apparently only worked three days a week. Today wasn’t one of his days, but Aidan had managed during a brief distraction on Jayleen’s part to snap a quick photo of a patient list with his phone. Those patients were all alive and doing well, but they couldn’t approach them with any questions until they had a court order for the patient list. Even then there didn’t seem to be anything to find.