Anticipation: A Heart & Handcuffs Anthology

by Megan Mitcham

  “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”

  “I know this hurts. It hurts all of us, but you put so much into these boys. You had high hopes for them, and now…”

  “Let’s get it done.” Fox stepped toward the evidence room.

  “He’s not in there, man.”

  “What?” Fox swung around. “Where is he?”

  “Lansing didn’t tell you?” Tommy’s brows raised in the direction of his balled head.

  “No. So you better—and fast.”

  “James shot White in your office and…”

  “And what?”

  Tommy folded his arms over his barrel chest and huffed a breath. “He posed the body…behind your desk.”

  All the blood drained from Fox’s head and limbs and pooled in his feet. The corridor narrowed and Tommy’s words grew further and further away.

  “Fox. Fox.”

  He batted his friend’s hands away. He patted his pockets franticly for his phone.

  “What?” Tommy begged. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s a fucking message, if ever there was one. I didn’t even see it and I… Fuck, if he hurts my family, I’ll choke the life out of him with my bare hands.”

  Fox lunged for the floor and yanked the phone from his coat pocket.

  “Where are the boys? I’ll send a car to get them.” Tommy grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back to meet his gaze. “Where are the boys?”

  “They’re with my dad. They’re upstate at Wes’s cabin. Hell, I hardly know where it is. There’s no way James can find it.” He heaved a breath and then choked on it. “Lindley!”

  “Calm the fuck down, Chief. Lansing texted when you were playing super-hero and said she’d arrived.”

  Fox placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his cheeks. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”

  “No shit. You’ve been on the clock for something like ninety-thousand hours straight. Now, let’s go see what your missus has to say.”

  “I screwed up the hot night she had planned. So, it probably won’t be anything good.”

  “Yeesh.” Tommy’s face scrunched. “Maybe I’ll just hold the fort down here.”

  “Hell, no. I need all the help I can get. She still likes you.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm and ushered him toward the elevator.

  “Wait, your jacket.” His friend reached down to scoop up his coat. His high-pitched whistle rang off the concrete walls and glass. “Judging from this picture, she more than likes you. Jesus, I know I shouldn’t be looking, but I can’t make myself turn away.”

  Fox dipped around his friend and snatched his coat with the rest of the pictures, and the one pinched between Tommy’s fingers…of the perfect valley of Lindley’s breasts. If it had been the last shot he’d have been a dead man. “I swear, if you say anything to her about seeing that—”

  “It’s always the unassuming ones. Proper Doc Fox.” Tommy’s prickly head gleamed in the florescent light as he nodded. “I feel like a kid again, seeing my first playboy cover. Go—”

  “Shut up!” Fox shoved him into the elevator. “Not one more word.”

  He shoved the stack into his back pocket. If he was honest with himself, looking at those pictures made him feel like a twenty-four-year-old, getting the first glimpse of heaven, AKA Lindley’s curvaceous body. He’d have never guessed she’d have the guts to do something like that. So, in a way, it was a fresh glimpse of the woman he loved.

  Tommy stood stolid in the corner of the car…until the doors opened on Fox’s floor. “How am I supposed to look her in the eyes without blushing? Not that it was easy before. Your wife is smokin’.”

  “Not another word,” Fox whispered.

  “Right. Maybe the dead body of our former friend will take the edge off.”

  “Smooth.”

  They fell in step together headed for his office.

  Though he knew what to expect, the scene caught him by the throat. Whether on the take or not, one of their own reclined in his leather chair. The pallor of death ghosted his skin. Lansing barked orders on a cellphone. A tech hovered over White’s body.

  “When you’re finished swabbing, would you bag his hands please? I’m all out of medium ones. I’ve got tiny trace evidence bags and Dexter’s chop-you-into-bits-and-toss-you-overboard bags. Let me know if you need either,” Lindley called out to the crime scene tech.

  The two bare globes of the butter-smooth ass he’d seen thirty minutes ago poked into the air covered in pressed black slacks. She rifled through a large case with about a thousand pockets. Plastic crinkled.

  “Does the prettiest ME in the world have a time of death yet?” Tommy slipped past him. Lindley popped up from her case with two fists full of plastic bags. A wide smile curved her mouth and her arms opened to receive Tommy’s hug.

  “Suck up,” Fox coughed.

  Lindley frosted him with her cool green gaze. Then she turned to the tech. “You about finished? I want to get him moved before rigor begins.”

  “Just about. Do you have any zip-ties in that thing?” The guy bobbed his head toward the black rolling bag.

  “Yes.” Lindley stepped away from Tommy and squatted in search of zip-ties. “As for your question, Tommy, judging by temperature and pre-rigor state I’d say one hour.”

  “These boys worked fast.” Tommy sighed.

  “One didn’t move fast enough.” She passed over the ties and hiked a brow at Daniel White’s corpse.

  “Five million split between two isn’t all that much money.” Fox shrugged. “By yourself…”

  Lindley’s head bobbed. Her red hair caressed her shoulders. “You could get lost with that kinda’ change.”

  “Let’s not let him.” Fox stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from sinking them into Lindley’s supple bottom. Damn her, but she waggled her butt in the air again in search of Lord knew what.

  Lansing cursed. “You called it, Dr. Fox. He’s on the run. Just got a hit on our BOLO, Chief. James’ car was found abandoned in a public park in the Bronx.” The lanky guy bolted for the door. “When I have him I’ll let you know.”

  “You do that.” Fox nodded. “And Lansing, no matter how badly you want to beat the shit out of him…don’t. I want this clean and I want him put away for a long time.”

  Sometimes being the good guy sucked.

  “Yes, sir.” Lansing’s retreating shoes squeaked on the freshly waxed tile.

  “I’m done here, heading to the lab. I’ll put a rush on this stuff, sir.” The tech collected his stuff.

  “Thank you.” He held the door for the guy and his box of evidence.

  The door closed with a thud, shutting the three of them—kind of four—in the room together.

  “Thank God, I thought they’d never leave.” Lindley’s arms folded across her middle, plumping her breasts to the heavens. Tommy took a step back and hid behind Fox’s height. Her green laser-stare zeroed in on him. “Why the bloody fuck didn’t you tell me about any of this? Who the hell killed White—James? Why is he in your office? What the hell is going on?”

  “I’ll be in the hallway. If either of you need handcuffs, holler.” Tommy made for the door.

  “You know when you get mad you get a British undertone to your accent and your cheeks flush red, kind of like when you—”

  “Don’t try and be cute.” Her wine colored lips narrowed. “I knew something was going on. I kept waiting for you to confide in me, but…” She sighed. “You know, I can’t do this right now. I have a job to do.”

  “I’ve been doing my job, Lin. It’s just way more complicated than either of us imagined.”

  “That’s it?” Her hands fell to her sides. The white blouse she wore reminded him of the shirt in the pictures.

  She just said she couldn’t do this now. So, what’d she want him to say? “There’s more, but this is hardly the time. Now, what can I do to help?”

  “Get Tommy. I’ll bag him, and then you two can tote him out for me. The stretcher is behi
nd the door.”

  He nodded and turned away, but stalled. “I love you, Lindley.”

  A frown curved her sweet mouth. “I love you, Fox. Love isn’t our issue.”

  Fox stepped between her dainty leather boots and cupped her nape. He pulled her so close his lips brushed hers in the lightest kiss. “I’ll make this right. Just give me some time.”

  Chapter 3

  “Why’d you insist on coming with me? This isn’t exactly your thing.” Lindley held up a gloved hand and fanned her fingers at him.

  Fox’s broad back faced her. He typed furiously on his cell with the thick collar of his overcoat up on both sides. “What? Oh.” He turned his dark gaze on her. The ruddiness in his cheeks from the spring wind outside faded to sheet-white. “Damnit, Lin.” He looked away so quickly he almost snapped his neck. “I still don’t understand how it’s your thing.” He shoved the phone inside his pocket and gripped the table he leaned against with both hands. “When we met you seemed so normal.”

  “I am normal.” She grinned, pleased with herself for shaking him up enough to get him talking. He’d been so quiet on the car ride over, stuck in the mire of his thoughts. And now that she’d seen the tip of the proverbial iceberg that had wrecked their sex life she wanted to know more.

  “You have brains all over your gloves and you’re not about to hurl. That’s not normal.” His shaggier-than-usual locks moved in time with his shaking head.

  “Sure it is. You like to solve puzzles. It’s part of the reason you became a police officer. Every case for you is an intricate weave of timelines, witnesses, evidence, leads, and documentation. Well, I like to tell people’s stories when they can’t.”

  “So, what’s White’s story?”

  “This bastard got shot in the head.”

  Fox’s shoulders shook. He doubled over and the most glorious sound filled her morgue. She hadn’t heard his laugh in so very long. Sure he’d laughed with the kids, but not with her, not that real belly-rolling laugh, in too long. He buried his face in his arm. “Oh God, it smells awful in here.” The coat and thickly-corded muscles muffled the words.

  Lindley let the sound wash over her, soothing the ache in her heart. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” she breathed through the thin face mask.

  “It’s good to laugh. It’s been a long time.” With that, the last of his mirth dried up.

  “So why’d you come with me?”

  “The logical thing for James to do is run, but why’d he kill White in my office, in my chair? Nothing was stolen. Nothing was out of place.” He resumed his grip on the table.

  “A final FU?”

  “Or it’s a threat.”

  A tiny tendril of fear threaded itself around her heart. She strived to make light of the situation. But really, a man who’d eaten barbeque in her back yard had murdered the buddy he’d picked up on his way to their house. She could only blow off so much.

  Lindley secured the metal spreader inside White’s entry wound and wiggled her fingers into his brain matter. “Why would he threaten you?”

  “I pushed for the bust on Chino and his gang based on things we learned from following White and James.”

  “Chino!” The tendril coiled tight and her fingers slipped off the tip of the metal slug.

  “He’s not a problem for us. He knows how the system works. He’s a bad guy, but not The Godfather make-a-big-statement type. He’ll post bail within the hour. Whether he goes to jail or not, James is the one with the issue. He won’t have a prayer of showing his face in this town again. No matter what he says, Chino will believe he informed for us, and he’ll end up fish food.”

  “And that’s not a statement?”

  “It’s a little one.”

  “Okay.”

  “James stealing the money was an FU to the force. White in my office was personal.”

  Lindley pushed everything aside, concentrated, and steeled her grip. “I found the slug.”

  “Great. Can we go now?”

  “Can you grab me a small evidence bag and open it?”

  He sighed and moved to the wall of metal cabinets and drawers behind her. “Can you bring it over here. If I don’t see the body, I’ll do better.”

  “I still don’t understand how you made it through seven years as a detective.” Lindley sidled up next to him and dropped the hunk of compressed metal into the open bag.

  “I could look at that as evidence. This is like finger painting or sculpting with brains, and guts, and… Okay, I’m about to gross myself out.”

  It was her turn to laugh. Finally. Fox’s wide eyes and reciprocating smile said he enjoyed the sound as much as she did. They shared a moment together. He moved in, but his gaze dropped to her hands. He hit the brakes.

  “So, can we go now?”

  “I have to clean him up, and then me. It’ll take another hour, maybe.”

  Fox looked at her extra-large clock on the wall. “One o’clock. I’ve officially been awake for thirty hours.”

  “Sissy. It doesn’t get good until you’ve hit the fiftieth. Mental function shuts down and you find you can sleep standing up with a candy-bar hanging out of your mouth.”

  “If this place didn’t freak me out so much, I’d already be asleep. You know I like my eight hours.”

  “I know you haven’t gotten that many in a row in a while.”

  “I haven’t gotten a lot of things in a while.” His shaky finger brushed a group of stray hairs from her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as I am.” She leaned into his hand. The tiny bit of skin-on-skin contact bolstered her resolve.

  And then his phone chirped.

  She straightened.

  “No. It can wait.” His grip firmed on her face.

  “I have blood on my gloves and you have a murderer to catch. Now isn’t really the time for romance.”

  Lindley went back to dealing with White. Fox went back to ignoring the fact that he was in the morgue, his back to her, his collar up, his fingers flying across the keys. After she rolled the body into the freezer, she sterilized the tools she’d used.

  More and more often her gaze settled on her husband.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me? I knew something big was going on at work. But you wouldn’t confide in me. You wouldn’t let me in. We’re supposed to be a team, and sometimes you have to lean on your partner to make it across the finish line.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t know who to trust.”

  She dropped the skull chisel she’d been cleaning into the sink. The clack made Fox’s shoulders jerk. He jumped to his feet. His gaze scanned the room. It finally landed on her.

  “You’re supposed trust me.”

  “I did and do. We wouldn’t be together otherwise. I made the decision to keep you in the dark to keep you and the boys safe. I didn’t know how many of my officers were involved. You’re friends with their wives. Our kids are friends with their kids. I wouldn’t risk putting you in the middle.”

  “I’m a big girl, Fox. I can keep a secret.”

  “Yeah?” He put his hands on his belt. “Like who took those pictures of you?”

  Chapter 4

  “Wake-up, tough guy. We’re home.”

  Fox yawned like a grizzly waking from hibernation. The deep yowl sizzled along her spine and exploded in her nether regions. Too bad her husband only opened his eyes long enough to find the door latch, get out, and shuffle through the garage.

  “So, no word on James?” Lindley didn’t much care about James. She thought the guy would be a fool to hang around, but she wanted to see if she could rouse Fox from his sleep state.

  He grunted a barely coherent, “Nah.” Then he stood at the side door as though he had no idea how it had gotten in front of him and no clue how to open it.

  “Here.” She reached around him, tapped off their access code, and then opened the door. “Up you go.”

  While Fox continued his zombie walk toward the stairs, she entered their
code into the security system, and then slid the dead bolt back into place. She made the rounds, double-checking the windows and doors. Because of their jobs she didn’t take chances with their safety on the best of days…and this wasn’t one of them.

  By the time she made it upstairs, Fox’s wet head bowled the center of his pillow and he sawed saplings. Another ten minutes and he’d be on to the redwoods.

  “Too damn bad.” She pursed her lips and mentally devoured each of his bare nipples. Her palms itched to course the rolling topography from his shoulders, to his hands. She wanted his grip on her wrists, holding her down while he ate at her mouth, while he prodded her slick sex. “Too damn bad.”

  Lindley crept into the bathroom and slid the double pocket-doors closed. A full-scale nuclear attack wouldn’t wake the man, but it pleased her to pander to his needs.

  She stripped off her odorous clothes, tossed them in the hamper, and slipped into the shower. Steam rolled over her legs and up her hips. Her breasts hung heavily against her chest. The surging jet of water massaged the last remnants of tension from her back. Droplets gathered on her skin.

  Her hand skimmed over her hip, across her belly.

  Oh, hell no.

  She’d lasted for two damn weeks and she had a flesh and blood cock in her bed. Lindley had pandered to her husband’s work drama, their ridiculous schedules, and gone without for long enough. It was time Fox satisfied her need.

  Lindley cleaned and blow-dried her hair like a woman possessed. And she was…possessed by desire. She slipped back into the teddy. The silk of it on her skin triggered a brilliant idea. Her fingers threaded through the layers of Fox’s tie rack. She slid four from the thin metal rods and tied each into a slipknot. Then she grabbed four more, draped them around the back of her neck and headed for the bedroom.

  Sprawled to the corners of their bed he almost made it too easy. The closer she slunk toward the bed the higher her pulse ramped. She worried the thump thump thump might actually disturb him before go-time. Her hand quivered so much a stranger would think her a wino instead of an accomplished surgeon. She grappled for calm and found it in the swell of the sheets at the juncture of Fox’s thighs.