by Jayne Blue
I cried out as Mitch fastened his lips around the sensitive bud between my legs. He drew me out until I arched my back, clawing at the sheets. He brought me to the apex of pleasure, then let me drift back down as he pulled back and swirled his tongue inside of me. He was perfect, using just the right amount of pressure and friction to make my whole body thrum with arousal. My knees shook as I tried to contain myself. But just like I’d done to him, Mitch would have none of it. He controlled my body with each skillful stroke of his tongue and lips he feathered against me. He wanted to draw out my desire the same way I’d done to him and my only choice was to ride the wave. He had more self-control than I did, it turned out. Where I’d been bold and fast, he took his time with me, making me rise and fall and rise again before he was through.
The answer was clear. He owned me that night. Body and soul. With each breath I took, I gladly submitted. This was heaven. Perfection. And I never wanted it to end.
Finally, when he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure he could from me, Mitch settled into a rhythm I couldn’t contain. My orgasm rippled through me, then seemed to spill out of every pore. I thrust my hips forward, pressing myself against him. Mitch sucked me with just the right amount of pressure to send me over the edge. I cried out his name over and over. I needed to say it as much as I think he needed to hear it.
Yes. I was his. This was happening.
Then finally, when I tumbled back to Earth, Mitch was there. Holding me. Kissing me. Whispering soft words into my ear as I reached back and cupped his jaw with my palm. We were both drenched in sweat and each other as he gathered me close. Then we slept and for the first time in weeks, I truly felt safe.
Chapter Seventeen
Mitch
We settled into a rhythm over the next few days. Stella started going a little stir crazy but she saw reason. It wasn’t safe for her to leave my house until we could make some headway with her case. She hated it, but she relented. So I spent my days working with Caulkins and the task force combing through reams of data gleaned from the audit he’d done at the State Police records division. We hadn’t learned much, but since we’d started, there’d been no new issues with background clearances coming out of that office. I spent my nights going home to Stella. Knowing she’d be there, waiting for me, I’d never realized how much I needed her. Or how much I’d waited for her, it seemed like my whole life. She was beautiful, pensive. It killed me to keep her cooped up, but I’m not going to say I didn’t reap the benefits as soon as I walked through the door. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. It also meant I wasn’t getting very much sleep.
When she asked me how her case was progressing, I wished I could give her more news. But it would be a slow, painstaking process. We couldn’t bring anything to the higher ups in the State Police until we had a hell of a lot more to go on. When we did, this thing was liable to blow wide. The press would be all over it. When the time came, that would be to Stella’s advantage. I wanted her name and picture plastered over every news media outlet we could find. The sooner that happened, the more likely whoever had put a hit out on her would wise up and disappear.
Detective Edwards was lying low for now. I don’t know if he suspected anything, but the FBI presence had to have spooked him. It was frustrating. I needed a damn warrant to dump his phone at the very least. All I’d gotten were work-related emails on their government server. Nothing interesting came up.
Then finally, after a week of combing through mundane emails, we got a break. The female clerk who ratted on Edwards remembered something useful. Edwards had a cousin, Dale Lewis. The name seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it until I ran it through my computer. An old case file of mine popped up.
“Lewis,” I said, tapping the computer screen with a ballpoint pen. Caulkins had come down for the day and had camped out at one of the empty workstations across the room. “I’ll be damned.” Man, it happens like that sometimes. You can go weeks and weeks with nothing, then all of a sudden, things can just fall into place with one tip, one name. And there it was, staring back at me from my computer screen.
“You got something?”
“Maybe. We nailed this guy Lewis a few years back. He was running a credit card scam out of his basement. He’s a two-bit hacker, and he only drew two years at Milan after a plea deal I wasn’t happy about. Let me get his parole officer on the phone, see if he’s back in town.”
Caulkins nodded and went back to his laptop. A few minutes later, I hit the jackpot.
“Thanks, Neil,” I said, hanging up with Lewis’s parole officer.
“I like that expression on your face, Gates.”
“Bingo. Turns out Lewis got out of prison about a year ago. His big cousin Larry vouched for him with the parole board. Convinced them he’d seen the error of his ways. The douchebag is actually living in an apartment above Edwards’s garage.”
“How the fuck is that possible?” Caulkins said. “For shit’s sake. He’s a known felon. How the hell does a state trooper agree to house this guy and get away with it? Hell, if I did that, I’d lose my security clearance.”
I shrugged. “Who the hell knows. But it’s something. And more than that, never mind whether he’s involved. If he’s so much got a dial-up internet connection in that house, he’s in violation of his parole.”
“You think you can get a warrant off of it?”
“I think we have to try.”
I wrote the warrant based on the clerk’s statement, Dale Lewis’s history, and what we knew about Edwards. It was a risk. A big fat one. But if we were wrong, then I’d just be burning a few bridges with the State Police. If we were right, but didn’t find anything at the house, Edwards and Lewis would probably close up shop until they thought it was safe. But we probably wouldn’t get a better chance than this one so it was a risk we felt willing to take.
“Tell you what,” Stan said. He leaned back hard in his chair as Caulkins and I stood in his office and ran our plan by him. “Mitch, you write the warrant, but I want Caulkins and O’Banion to take it over to Judge Landry.”
I curled my fists and tried to remember to do the ten count Ken said would work wonders. At the moment, it was just pissing me off more.
“Don’t even start, Mitch. Landry’s a straight shooter, but our very own Judge Pierce still has a lot of friends in that courthouse. It’s a good ole boys’ network and you know it. This is your case. Nobody’s going to forget that. But let somebody else go do the sweet talking. It isn’t your strong suit lately. Landry sees you coming, it could fuck this up or make him think twice about granting it on short notice. We can’t afford that. Put your ego aside.”
Caulkins put a hand on my shoulder. “He’s got a point. And as soon as we get the go ahead, if we get the go ahead, you’re lead on this one. Straight up. There’s nobody else I’d rather have busting down that asshole’s door.”
“Thanks,” I said, only half meaning it. But I knew Stan had a point, even if I hated it.
Once I had the warrant request written, O’Banion and Caulkins went over to the courthouse to get it signed. The thing was tight, but anything could happen. My luck, the judge would either deny it or restrict it in such a way I couldn’t get what I wanted. I’d asked for a no-knock. I had no idea what to expect from Lewis. If we lost the element of surprise, he was sophisticated enough to set up a system he could wipe in the time it took me to cross the threshold if he knew we were coming.
I’d taken to pacing in front of my desk. I’d placed three calls to Caulkins. None of them returned. I fucking hated that they made me sit back here and cool my heels. When my phone finally did ring, I answered with a vengeance.
“Well?”
Soft laughter on the other side that sent heat rippling through me. Stella. “That kind of day, is it?”
“Sorry. Everything okay?” I knew she was about to ream me out for asking. I did that a lot, but I couldn’t help it. Where Stella was concerned, I felt equal parts tied up in knots and on top of the world
. Things had grown easier between us since that night out by the river. We’d let go of a lot of the guilt and reservations we had for being with each other. I couldn’t bring myself to name what we were to each other yet and neither could she. But it felt right, even though I knew it would probably end in disaster. That’s just how things went with me. For now though, I didn’t have it in me to be the strong, reasonable one when it came to her. And I was lying to Ken Bardwell about it. I told him we’d decided to take things slow. Even though I knew that had train wreck written all over it, I couldn’t help myself. Stella just made me feel too damn good.
“It’s okay,” she said, sighing. Even miles away, I knew that line of worry crossed her brow. I wanted to kiss it away more than anything. “I talked to Phil today. No change with his father. He’s awake and trying to communicate, but he still can’t talk. The doctors are talking about releasing him to a nursing care facility in the next couple of days. It’s not the outcome we hoped for. Phil wants him home. So do I.”
“I know, baby. I know. Soon. And don’t forget he’s alive and out of immediate danger. He’s going to come back.” I looked out the window as I talked to her, hoping to see Caulkins’s car pull in. So far, nothing.
“Is something happening? I can hear it in your voice.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She was just as good at picking up on my moods just from my voice as I was with hers.
“Nothing I can share with you yet, but maybe. I hope to have some news by the time I get home tonight.”
The line went silent. Then I heard her unsteady exhale. “Mitch?”
“I’m still here.”
“I worry.”
“I know. But you don’t have to.”
“Don’t tell me that. For one thing, you know it’s not true. It’s just, I don’t know. With the memorial just a few days away and everything. I feel bad karma. And I can’t go through it again, you know? I just can’t.”
“Shh. Baby. Everything’s okay. I mean it though. Everything’s under control.”
She sighed. Again, I wanted to reach through the phone and kiss her doubts away. But Stella knew the drill. She more than anyone knew what this job was. It was just another reason for me to feel selfish for bringing her back into my life. In the end, it wasn’t fair. She’d be better off with an insurance salesman or a banker. Though even the fleeting thought of her with anyone else sent that flare of white rage through me. I tried to shake it off. I needed my head in the game today more than ever.
“Just be careful, okay? Promise me that. Don’t take any chances you wouldn’t normally because of me.”
“I won’t,” I lied. I’d turn the world upside down if I had to for her.
“I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”
“I’ll bring Chinese. We can eat out by the river again.”
Her sultry laugh made my balls tighten. Yeah. Definitely needed my head back in the game. As I clicked off, Caulkins came down the hallway at a near run. He had a big smile on his face that made me pump my fist in victory.
“We’re on!” he said, waving the freshly signed search warrant above his head. “Let’s get everything lined up for four o’clock. He wouldn’t give us the no-knock, but I’m guessing you can come up with a plan B.”
I nodded. “It’s not my first choice, but yeah. Let’s make it work and go get this asshole.”
I sent Stella a quick text that I’d be late, eat dinner without me, and stop worrying.
Chapter Eighteen
Mitch
The setup was simple and one I’d done a hundred times. Stan might have wanted to keep me away from the judge’s face, but I was going into that house first. We weren’t exactly sure where Edwards and Lewis kept their computers, but I’d bet my next paycheck the jackpot would be in that apartment above Edwards’s garage.
I had my team set up around the perimeter with eyes and ears on me. Caulkins and the rest of the feds manned the surveillance van down the street. Edwards was working day shift and had just gotten home. I needed him out of the house as quickly as possible so we could secure the rest of it before cousin Dale knew what was going on. I just prayed it was Edwards who answered the door. I didn’t want to send the team in without him secured. He could bolt. He could fight. He could be armed.
“That’s a good look for you,” Caulkins said.
I flipped him off. I wore black pants, a black golf shirt, and Luigi’s Pizza hat. We’d planned it to the last detail. I held a pepperoni supremo in my hand. I pulled the hat low on my forehead and walked up to the door.
Two plainclothes officers took positions on either side of the door, guns drawn and ready to act. Their job was to take Edwards once he stepped outside. Then the rest of my team would clear the house so I could do my work securing the hardware.
One knock and the door opened. He didn’t have a screen door, thank God.
“Luigi’s?” I said, thrusting the pizza box up high. Larry Edwards stood in the doorway in his boxer shorts and an undershirt. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. He wasn’t very big, but the dude was built like a fire hydrant: short, solid, bow-legged, I was guessing former wrestler.
“Here’s your order,” I said, giving the signal. I took a step back and my officers at the door pulled Edwards out into the lawn. To his credit, he didn’t fight them. I could respect at least that much. I made a motion with my finger and the team moved in, swift and silent.
I turned to Edwards. “Lewis up in the apartment?”
“Fuck you,” Edwards said. They had him cuffed for his protection and ours. “What’s this about?”
“You’re going to want a union rep with you before we have any kind of real conversation. This is a search warrant only. So let’s not press our luck.”
I heard a first floor all clear and moved inside. Edwards called me something foul behind my back. I saw his cell phone sitting on the top of the television set and had my guys bag it. Moving into the kitchen, I looked for anything useful.
Hard footsteps thumped above me as the team cleared the upper floor. The second team had already moved into the garage and made their way up to Lewis’s apartment. Out the front window, he tumbled out of the garage and tried to run. One of my officers tackled him and got him in cuffs. Edwards, again to his credit, yelled to Lewis to stop struggling, do what he was told, and keep his mouth shut.
“All clear!” they yelled from the second floor. But it was the garage apartment I was interested in. Officer Danny Reardon and his partner went up there together. I went through the service door to the garage and waited. Reardon had followed me like a puppy dog ever since he blew his testimony in the Howell case in front of Judge Pierce. He was a good kid and had potential. But he had a long way to go before I’d trust him with anything big. Still, I was glad he was here. This case would be good for his career.
Less than two minutes later, Reardon came back down. “You’re good, Mitch,” he said, breathless, his cheeks flushed. “I saw two laptops and one of those big towers with at least a seventy-inch monitor.”
“Good work. Now don’t touch anything.”
“Yeah,” Reardon gasped. “It’s close quarters up there.”
I patted Reardon on the shoulder and headed up the stairs. His partner, Reed Lyle, waited for me at the top. Reed was more seasoned. He and Reardon made a good team.
“Jesus, he wasn’t kidding,” I said. The apartment was a damn shoe box. Lewis had a cot on one side, a shitty green futon, and a small refrigerator. The place had paneled walls painted white though I could see the 1970s brown beneath it in places where it chipped. The rest of the space was taken up with Lewis’s computer equipment. I wouldn’t know for sure until I got all of this down to the lab and ran the forensics, but every instinct in me screamed we’d nailed him. No matter what, he was headed back to prison just for having this stuff.
“He tried to shut something down over there,” Lyle said. “Danny got to him first. He didn’t touch a thing. Not even a cell phone. We did just w
hat you said. Danny was quick. You’d be proud.”
“Good man, Reed.” I pulled a pair of latex gloves out of my pocket. “Run down and grab me a few more evidence bags. This is going to take a while to secure. He may have it booby trapped.”
“You got it.” Reed gave me a nod and headed back down the stairs.
“Jesus,” I said. Sweat poured down my neck. It was easy to get claustrophobic in this place. It stunk like feet, beer, and fried shit.
I checked the lines coming in and out of the main computer. It didn’t look like he had a literal booby trap, but I couldn’t take any chances. Usually guys like Lewis were smart enough to set their systems so that even one failed password attempt would set off an internal kill switch and brick the thing before I even got started. I was going to be up here for a while. If I managed to get all his equipment out of here intact, I could unfuck whatever firewalls he had back at the lab.
I found the power cord to the main unit and followed it back toward the wall. “Nice and easy,” I talked myself through it. “Hurry up with those bags,” I yelled down to Lyle. He shouted something back but it was muffled.
I got on my hands and knees, pulled the battery, killed the power, and started unhooking some of the external devices. “Fucking fabulous,” I said, finding a mousetrap with the bloated little sucker still caught beneath the spring. “No wonder it smells so bad up here.”
I moved to kick the thing out of my way but my brain exploded in light and pain. My vision blurred and I staggered to the side. A shadow moved across the room. A flash of metal. I rolled to the side just before the hammer came down and would have shattered my skull. It glanced the side of my face. I went instantly drowsy and tried to get to my weapon. The room went black. I felt myself sliding down a deep hole.
Fight. Fucking fight! I forced my eyes open. I must have blacked out for a second or two because I’d crashed forward to the other end of the room. I lay sprawled on my stomach. I reached for my weapon but it wasn’t there anymore. I heard the guy breathing. Close. I couldn’t get my legs under me. My eyes traveled across the room, sluggish. Unfocused.