Temperature's Rising (v1.1)

by Karen Kelley

  “Hi, Jess. Conor,” he absently mumbled.

  Mike suddenly stumbled, his head jerking up.

  “Hello,” she answered between clenched teeth. The look she sent in his direction had him snapping his mouth shut and continuing on without saying a word.

  “You know Mike?” Conor asked with obvious surprise.

  “We used to sleep together.” Okay, she’d probably pay for that remark, too, but she couldn’t help it. Her father always said she had a mischievous streak a mile wide. It wasn’t really a lie. She and Mike had slept together. Of course, she’d left out the fact she’d been three, Mike four, and they were second cousins.

  “Do you also know he’s married?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She should. They’d gotten married February fourteenth and she’d been one of the bridesmaids. Ugh! His wife had chosen the ugliest red bridesmaids’ dresses and huge red straw hats adorned with red feathers. Her colors had been red and redder. The church had looked like the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, but the only thing that truly mattered was Mike’s happiness. She would’ve worn a dress made of burlap if it made her cousin and new cousin-in-law happy.

  But Officer Richmond didn’t look pleased by her admission she’d slept with Mike. His lips thinned as they turned a corner and started down a long, narrow hallway wide enough for only two and a half people. Offices opened on either side, but most of the doors were locked, the men and women having left for the day.

  They were taking the shortcut.

  Jessica caught her breath when her Aunt Gloria rounded the corner with a stack of papers in her hands.

  Her soft brown hair was neatly combed away from her face, and she wore a blue print dress that looked new. Jes sica liked the way it brought out the color of her eyes.

  Her aunt glanced up, down, then her head jerked up again. Her gaze strayed to the missing button on Jessica’s blouse. “I told you playing with buttons would get you in trouble some day.”

  Jessica pleaded with her eyes for her aunt not to say anything.

  “What?” Conor asked.

  Her aunt countered with her own question. “What’d she do?”

  “Soliciting.” His voice was gruff, almost like he hated being the bearer of bad news.

  Aunt Gloria’s lips twitched. “You know, if you’d wanted a man there are other ways to go about it.”

  Jessica crossed her eyes, wanting her aunt to pick up the game. She shouldn’t have worried. Aunt Gloria was a Nelson, after all.

  With an impish gleam, the older woman shifted the papers to her other arm. “I bet the chief will want to talk to her. This isn’t her first trip to the station.”

  “So she told me. You’d think she’d pick a different pro fession. I was taking her to lock-up, though.”

  “No, I’m sure the chief will want to see this prisoner personally. Follow me.” She turned.

  “You don’t have to come with us. I remember where his office is,” Conor informed her.

  “Don’t mind a bit.” She continued down the hall, bumped the door to her office open with her hip, set the papers down on an already crowded desk, and sauntered to the chief’s door.

  She rapped her knuckles on the opaque glass and without waiting for an answer, opened the door. “The new officer brought you a criminal, Chief.”

  “Do what?” He’d begun to stand when they entered. “What the…” His salt-and-pepper eyebrows drew together, forming a single line.

  Jessica pulled away from the officer and strolled over to him. “Well, hello, sugar. Seems like forever since I saw you, but we both know it was only last Sunday, don’t we?” She winked at Conor. Then kissed her father on the cheek.

  Chapter 3

  The way the hooker leaned close to the chief made Conor want to throw up. This job had appealed to him because of the family-like atmosphere. Boy, had he been fooled!

  He glanced around the office. Hell, the chief even had ivy growing along the window sill . He’d assumed the pictures on his desk were family, even though he hadn’t seen the faces. A man like that didn’t keep a mistress young enough to be his daughter, even if he was widowed.

  But if this hooker had corrupted his boss, and Mike, then the whole blasted precinct was probably crooked. He grimaced. Not that he could really blame them. Her body begged for a man to pull her close, tangle his hands in the soft waves of her blond hair, lower his mouth to her lips and taste the sensuous pleasures she had to offer.

  “What’s the matter, Officer Richmond? Cat got your tongue?”

  Her throaty purr brought him out of his stupor. He planted his hands on his hips and glared at her while murderous thoughts ran through his head.

  That’s why she hadn’t looked worried about being run in. Hell, she probably hopped from one officer’s bed to the next. She’d been laughing at him all the way to the station.

  “Okay,” the chief began, holding the handcuffs by the center chain and raising them. “Anyone care to explain these?” Taking a key from his desk drawer, he unlocked the cuffs and tossed them toward Conor.

  He deftly caught them. This job had been nice while it lasted. He replaced his cuffs and waited for the axe to fall. It didn’t take long.

  “He arrested me.” Honey dripped from her words.

  His cheeks puffed out. “For what?”

  Any minute he expected the chief to explode. Well, he didn’t have anything to lose now. “I thought that would be obvious,” he commented dryly.

  “Solicitation,” Gloria supplied in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “A woman of the streets,” the hooker elaborated.

  “Solici… Woman of the…” He coughed and sputtered.

  Gloria hurried to the water dispenser by the door and filled a cup.

  “Here, drink this.” She handed him the cold liquid.

  He swallowed the water and crumpled the cup. “Now, let me get this straight.” Thoughtfully, he looked at each person in the room before tossing the cup into the waste-basket beside his desk. It hit the rim and fell inside.

  “Two points,” the two women spoke in unison.

  He frowned at them, and they immediately became interested in their shoes. Something didn’t fit, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was about the situation that didn’t quite click.

  “You arrested her for soliciting?” the chief asked, drawing Conor’s attention.

  “Yes, sir.” He wouldn’t deny it.

  When the chief began to laugh, Conor couldn’t take anymore. If he wanted to fire him, that was fine, but he wouldn’t let the man throw a street hooker in his face, no matter how great she looked. He spun around. It wouldn’t take him long to empty his locker.

  “What’s the matter, Officer Richmond?”

  Her heels hadn’t made a sound on the deep brown carpet, but his nostrils twitched when he caught the scent of her sensuous fragrance. It held enough mystery and allure that all he could think about was turning around and pulling her into his arms. So maybe he didn’t blame the chief for falling under her spell.

  “Is it getting a little warm in here?”

  His hand stilled on the doorknob. Yeah, with her body this close, it did feel too damn hot in the room.

  “That’s enough of the games, Jess. You two go play somewhere else. I’ve got work to do.”

  Go play! Conor slowly turned and stared at the older man. Was he sharing his hooker? This had to be the most bizarre…

  “Oh, Dad, you’re no fun anymore. And he did arrest me for solicitation. Aren’t you going to defend my honor?”

  “Dad?” Conor choked.

  They glanced in his direction. The same smoky-blue eyes twinkled back at him. Why hadn’t he noticed all three sets of eyes were the same shade? His stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

  The chair behind the chief’s desk creaked when he took his seat. “If I defended your honor every time you got into trouble I wouldn’t have time to arrest the real criminals.”

  Jessica gave a very unladylike snort. “I happened t
o be waiting to show the property on North Forty-second when super cop decided I was selling more than real estate.”

  Conor flinched.

  “This rash of burglaries is going to be the death of me as it is,” the chief said, shuffling through some papers on his desk. “Besides, we all know you can take care of yourself.” His gaze met Conor’s. “Didn’t you just get off duty this afternoon, Officer Richmond?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then go home and get some rest.” His gaze fell on Jessica. “Apologize to our new officer.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  The chief’s gaze swept over his daughter and then back to the papers on his desk.

  “You’ve lost the top button on your blouse. How many times have I told you to quit twisting the blasted things?” He carefully placed his pen on the desk, his expression full of pain when it landed on Conor. “Do you know every day she lived at home I had to sew buttons on her clothes?”

  “I beg your pardon, brother,” his sister interjected. “I sewed on my fair share.”

  “We both did,” he conceded, then cleared his throat and frowned, turning his attention on his daughter. “That skirt is too short, besides being ripped, and your heels too high. It’s a wonder I didn’t have to go to the hospital because you broke your neck. What did you do this time? Looks like you’ve been wrestling in the dirt. And…”

  “Never mind. I get the picture.” It might not be a bad idea if she changed the subject. “Suspects? Are you about to close in on the perps behind the burglaries?”

  She had to admit, at least to herself, she was curious. With elections looming in their moderately sized Texas town, the mayor was anxious to put a stop to the break-ins, and in the process, securing his reelection. People were getting antsy. He’d already started applying the screws to the police department. The pressure her father was under had begun to show in the tired lines on his face. She wished there was something she could do. A wave of guilt washed over her. Maybe if she’d kept her job as a cop, she could’ve been more help. No, she wouldn’t let herself think like that; she’d made the right decision.

  “I don’t believe it would be a good idea to discuss the case with a civilian,” Conor spoke up.

  Her gaze jerked toward him. He smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  The only thing he hadn’t done was pat her on top of the head. Talk about holding a grudge.

  He had a lot to learn if he thought she was just a civilian, though. Her teething ring had been a pair of handcuffs, and instead of Nancy Drew mysteries, she’d actually pored over old cases with her father. She probably had more knowledge about the workings of a police department in her little finger than he had in his entire body!

  Slowly, she smoothed her palms down the sides of her black skirt and squared her shoulders. Even in heels she didn’t come close to his height. He was well over six feet. But nothing would suit her better than to wipe that condescending smile off his face.

  She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head. “I happen to be a policewoman, duly licensed in the state of Texas.” She didn’t know what she expected—an apology, maybe, for his sudden supercilious attitude? What she got was a slow, heated look that started at the top of her head and burned down to her toes. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but long enough that her breath caught in her throat and her body tingled.

  “I’d heard something to that effect.” His words implied that she was anything but an officer of the law.

  Her hands curled into fists. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. No, she wouldn’t tell him what she was thinking. Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned to her father and aunt.

  “Since you’re busy, I’ll talk to you later about what’s going on. Besides, Al should be here any second. He’s taking me to dinner.” As if her words had conjured him up, there was a knock. She marched forward and flung the door open, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

  “Not interrupting a family get-together, am I?” Al smiled broadly as he pushed his way inside the crowded office. His glance lingered on her before he looked up. “Maybe we should stop by your apartment before we go to dinner.”

  His gentle reprimand set her teeth on edge. Being critical was a major flaw with Al, but he had good qualities, too, although the scales were tipping toward the dumping point more each time she went out with him.

  But he did have nice attributes. Pale blond hair, mani cured nails, and he always wore an immaculate suit. He looked like he’d just stepped from the cover of a magazine, and most of the time he made her feel like the lady she desperately wanted to be.

  Maybe her insecurities stemmed from the fact that she played with cars and toy guns as a child rather than dolls and dress-up. That was all changing, though.

  Her earlier irritation began to vanish—until she noticed Conor had the same sour-stomach expression her father always wore when she even mentioned Al’s name.

  “More than ready.” She cast a scathing look in Conor’s direction before returning her attention back to her father. “I’ll call you later. ‘Bye, Auntie.”

  Conor watched Jessica sweep from the room. So this was the chief’s daughter everyone had mentioned. Cute. But a cop? After what happened earlier, maybe it was a good thing she got out when she did. He couldn’t quite see her handling a gun, let alone taking down a perp.

  Besides, if a cop couldn’t control her emotions, she shouldn’t be in this line of work. He wasn’t sure why she’d gotten irritated with him when her father had mentioned the burglaries, but he’d known the moment her hackles started to rise.

  It wasn’t like he’d said something out of the way. She should know it was against policy to talk about an ongoing case with someone on the outside. Women. He’d never understand how their minds worked.

  “I don’t particularly like that young man,” the chief said, drawing his attention. “He’s too… pretty.”

  “Humph.” Gloria Nelson glared at her brother. “You don’t like anyone who doesn’t have a badge, stethoscope, or fire hose.”

  “You mean to stand there and tell me you actually think that boy is good enough for our Jess?”

  Gloria smoothed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t matter what we think. Jessica’s the one who’s going out with him.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room, firmly closing the door behind her.

  “Women,” the chief snorted. “You can’t make them see what’s right in front of their noses.” He cleared his throat. “So, what’d you think of my daughter?”

  The older man’s piercing gaze swiveled toward him. Conor shifted from one foot to the other. It felt almost like he was wearing a suit and tie—and it was all he could do to keep from running a finger between the collar and his neck. Why hadn’t he left when he’d had the chance?

  “Nice,” he said hesitantly.

  “Nice, hell! Looks just like her momma did at that age. Same stubborn streak, too.”

  Conor might have argued which side of the family her headstrong nature came from, but the chief didn’t give him a chance. Not that he would have mentioned the fact. He happened to like his job.

  “She’s twenty-seven. Time she got married. The least she could do is give me a few more grandchildren before I kick the bucket. Gabe and Marsha’s two are growin’ up fast. What about you? Any plans for the future?”

  One eyebrow raised. “Don’t you think your daughter and I should exchange more than a couple of sentences before we get married?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” the chief snorted. Grabbing the snow globe paperweight on his desk, he began turning it over and over. Tiny white flakes soon obscured the cowboy and horse on the inside.

  Conor’s mouth stopped just shy of a grin. “I don’t have any plans right now. Single life suits me.” He could tick off a number of reasons. Namely, he had a penchant for impossible relationships. Women either wanted him to give up law enforcement,
or there was something wrong with them. The last one had been a kleptomaniac.

  His stomach rumbled uncomfortably. Damn, he should’ve realized she had a problem sooner. Like every time they left a restaurant and her purse rattled and clanked. How was he to know she’d pilfered the silverware?

  “No steady girl, huh?” The chief’s hand stilled. The snow swirled around on the inside of the globe. Carefully, he set it back on his desk.

  “No,” Conor cautiously answered.

  The chief didn’t look up until the snow had once more settled to the bottom. As soon as he did, Conor saw the unmistakable glimmer in his eyes. The sooner he put a stop to any matchmaking ideas, the better off he’d be.

  He’d taken this transfer because it would give him a better chance for advancement. But he wasn’t looking to become an official part of the Nelson clan. The badge was the only wife he needed.

  “I’ve always made it a policy not to date the boss’s daughter.” A small lie, but it should do the trick. No one could say he wasn’t a fast thinker.

  “Yeah, Jess has dumb rules, too. Says she doesn’t date cops. Have a seat, son.”

  That was a relief. Getting involved with the chief’s daughter didn’t sit well with him, anyway. Conor sat in the chair across from him, wondering how the conversation had jumped track from the suspects to his own social life. There must be something awfully wrong with his daughter to make him want to unload her so fast. And what’d she have against dating a cop?

  Not that he would date her, but he had to admit he wasn’t unaffected by her looks. He’d always been a sucker for blond hair and mysterious, smoky blue eyes. It wouldn’t be much of a strain to his imagination envisioning her nude body pressed intimately against his.

  What was he thinking? From what he’d gathered since coming to work in White Plains a week ago, Jessica Nel son would never be the type for a casual affair. To hear her cousin tell it, she was as pure as new snow.

  Not that it mattered one way or the other; he wouldn’t break his policy of not getting emotionally involved with anyone. Much safer that way.

  He didn’t want another woman asking him to take a safe desk job, then getting pissed when he refused. Being a cop on the streets was his life. It would be easier for him to stop breathing than give it up.