Little Belle Gone

by Whitlock, Stephanie

  No closer to an answer, they had grabbed take-out on the way back to the office to wait on the coroner’s report. They ate and talked a bit at their desks. Their conversation, while not work related, gave her little about him. He shared none of his past as they discussed politics and books, though she did learn that he was very well read and possibly even more intelligent than herself, which made the need to be near him even stronger. But their pasts was not part of the discussion. The reserved way he guarded his secrets, just as she guarded hers, peeked her curiosity. After dinner, she managed to slip away from him for a few minutes. With her new found, and overwhelming, desire to know her partner came the confidence to scan his file, the very same one she didn’t dare look into yesterday. Sadly, aside from his home address and a few details on his education, and impressive arrest record, the file provided her with nothing ground breaking. She would simply have to find him out the old fashioned way.

  At nearly eight-o-clock it became clear to them that no such report was forth coming. Stretching in her desk chair, Elizabeth looked over at him laid out in his, his feet propped on his desk and his head leaned back against the top of his chair. He looked as if he was asleep, but for some reason she knew he wasn’t. “Ready for that sparing match, Matthew? I didn’t get my workout in today and it doesn’t look like anything is going to happen tonight.” Sitting up in one smooth motion, he opened his cool blue eyes and ran them over her face.

  “Sure, why not. Meet me in the gym downstairs in ten minutes.”

  This is a terrible idea…he chided himself, as he waited just off the elevator in the basement training center. He had tossed his gym bag down near a mat only to discover that there was not another soul to be seen in the expansive gym area. The weight benches sat still and the sparing mats were open and lonely. He prayed that her gym clothes were half as modest as her work clothes. In the ten days he had known her, the most skin he had seen from her was on the night he had mistaken her for a high school student. His heart skipped a beat as the plaid skirt and knee high white socks of that wicked uniform, covering so little of her supple body, came rushing forward from deep in his memory. Sucking in a ragged breath, he ran his hand over his face in an attempt to wipe the tantalizing image from his mind. Just as his heart began to calm, the doors to the elevator opened and she stepped out. For a moment she just stood there grinning at him. He almost turned and ran away, but the delightful curve of her mouth pinned him to the ground.

  Leaving him slowly, he watched her eyes move across the deserted gym and, seeing the same unease wash across her that he had felt, made him even more nervous. It was bad enough he felt apprehensive about being alone with her, thinking that she felt the same way about him was too much to bare. “If it makes you uncomfortable to be alone down here we can always do this another time.” The words choked him as he forced them out. As uncomfortable as the idea of placing his hands on her tantalizing body in a room where they were all alone made him, he wanted it far more than he cared to admit. He had given her the ability to end this before it began and part of him was terrified she would take his proffered out. While he watched her struggling with his suggestion, his eyes slid over her.

  She stood before him dressed for combat. Her feet weren’t shod, but wrapped in cloth strips, martial arts style, and she was wearing skin tight black spandex exercise pants that ended just below the knee. A three inch section of her mid-drift, her belly button in the center of it, gleamed ivory before the lose rim of a cut up t-shirt she wore to cover her lavender sports bra. The shirt had no sleeves or collar and hung loosely, draped over one slender shoulder. Her hair, that blessed waist-length sheet of dark red, was French braided, the tail of which hung over her bare shoulder, the end resting against the swell of her breast. He nearly fainted. He already knew she was gorgeous, but this was too much. She was perfect. Her body was curvy, but taunt, strong, yet supple. A wondrous mixture of luscious plump breasts and round hips paired with a flat abdomen and narrow waist, her body was a banquet and he was famished, so much so that he mouth began to water.

  “Nah, it’s okay. Let’s start with kick boxing, if that’s okay with you, Matthew.” Okay…okay…what was she talking about? Blinking away the devilish images that had been dancing in his mind, he nodded numbly and followed her to the mat nearest them. Plopping her bag down next to his, she pulled her fist wraps from the side pocket and started bandaging up her hands. He followed suit, trying as hard as he could not to look directly at her for fear of losing control of the tightly held barrier holding back the throbbing threat of an erection.

  It took only seconds into their spar for him to realize she was taking this seriously. Allowing himself to swing at her for real had been a hard concept to accept right up until she nearly busted his lip with a round house kick. Feeling the rush of combat, his mind left the thoughts of her as a woman and focused on her as a fighter, and their sparing changed from a playful dance into an intense bout.

  He was truly enjoying this. She was fast, fierce and very skilled. Their back and forth was powerful and fervent. After nearly an hour he stood facing her, both of them drenched in sweat and breathing so fast that he felt light headed. “You’re pretty good.” Her compliment made him smile, but then she continued, “but I think I’m better.” Her sly smile irked him, both in his pride and in his loins.

  “Actually, I’d say were pretty evenly matched when it comes to this, though I do have to admit that seems less impressive when you consider that I’ve got 8 inches and about 80 pounds on you.” He returned her sly smile and was gratified to see her flush. Maybe just maybe she was feeling it, too. “Well, are we finished or would you care to show me some of that kung fu you mentioned earlier?” He was only trying to be playful, but when she nodded and starting unwrapping her hands, he took a seat on the bench lining the sparing mat and fished his water bottle, towel, and discarded shirt from his bag. He watched as she flowed from one pose into another, appreciating the graceful fluidity of her limbs and the impressive balance she possessed.

  At first, his appreciative stare had been innocent, but the longer he watched the length of her body twist and bend limberly before him, the darker his thoughts became until he felt the need to pull his towel into his lap to hide his shame. Clearing his throat, he was preparing himself to cross the professional line, ask her to have dinner with him some night, when his phone went off. Saved by the bell. Answering the phone, he watched her stretch and collect her things, packing them neatly back into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder and coming to stand in front of him. Feeling the last remnants of his shame washing away, he stood and tucked his towel into his bag as he ended the call on his phone. “They’ve finished processing the dogs things so we can go pick them up from the lab.”

  Chapter 14

  Elizabeth nodded, somewhat disappointed. She was sure just seconds earlier that he had been about to talk to her and, with the fevered look that had been in his eyes, she was almost sure it wouldn’t have been work talk. She led the way to the elevator, as he slid the t-shirt he had shed halfway through their kick-boxing match back over his body. She couldn’t help be feel a loss. His body was beautiful. She had studied it intensely as she had fought with him. Strong, muscular, yet lean legs that gave way to narrow, firm hips. His waist was trim and his abdomen was a rippled washboard supporting the wide slab of his chest. His broad shoulders gave way to muscled, taunt arms. He was an Adonis, the image of Olympian perfection wrapped in tanned skin. Even his black body hair had turned her heart over, imagining what it would feel like to drag her fingernails through it, and whether he would moan or whimper if she were to pet him.

  Standing next to him, she felt the sickening loss of reality. It was back to business as usual now and she feared that they might never be this close and uninhibited again. When the elevator doors opened, revealing the tiny, and empty, little room her head went light. The C.S.I. lab was on the 22nd floor, a ride that took nearly eight minutes. That was eight minutes of either aw
kward silence or even more awkward small talk, and neither was desirable. They both got into the elevator with jerky steps and as he pressed the button for their floor, the 27th, she leaned wanly into the corner. So, he wants to change first, she thought to her self. Wrapping her arms tightly around her middle, she watched him turn and move to stand beside her, but as the doors shut the awkward silence kicked in.

  When the car stopped just two floors up, she was terrified to find it opening on a large group of male cadets who, after taking one look at her, seemed to grow agitated and bawdy. As they made to file in around her, another body turned to block her view. Matthew had turned to face her, pinning her in, or, more accurately, walling them out. She could have hugged him again. Pretending that they were having some professional conversation about the sparing match they had finished, he made a few lazy comments as the elevator filled and started moving again. She smiled at him, feeling his closeness acutely.

  When, just three floors later, three more men packed themselves into the car as well, his body had been forced even closer. His earthy scent, mixed with the smell of his soap, made her head spin. They were less than an inch apart now. She wanted to feel his warmth, the firm strength of his body, more than she ever thought possible. With everything she had lived through, the thought of a physical relationship with a man had always disgusted and terrified her, until now. She wanted, far more than she feared Matthew. It would be so easy, so simple. She need only lean a bit forward and they would be touching. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than she felt her body move. Without a second thought, her center of gravity had shifted ever-so-slightly forward, bring the confined swell of her breasts into contact with his muscled diaphragm. His swift and ragged intake of breath made her heart flourish. As if controlled by some other force, that traitorous part of her that had instigated the first motion made another, leaning her farther into him. To her pleasure, he leaned against her as well. Bending his head low over her, his mouth hung just inches from her forehead. So close. Too close to resist.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stretched up on her tiptoes. She knew what she wanted and her impulsive side was determined to get it. The movements were all so small, and the elevator car was so crowded, that no one else in the confined space had any idea just how intimate the motions were. As she lifted her body higher in the air, her breasts slid over his chest and she could feel his body tensing as he lowered his head further, and when his lips touched her forehead she shivered against him. Her quiver was rewarded with an almost imperceptible groan from deep in his chest. Her insides were on fire, her thighs were stone and lava, and her hands shook with the need to touch him, feel if he was as upset as she was.

  He was iron and fire. She had leaned into him, pressed her lithe body against him. Not only that, but when he had pressed back she had made a move that could only lead to a kiss. He had only intended to shield her from the hungry looks and impending inappropriate remarks when he had stepped in front of her. The crowded elevator had forced him to stand only inches from her. When even more men had climbed in, shoving him closer to her still, he had been afraid he might upset her. Her reaction had been unexpected, to say the least. Unexpected and beyond exciting. Perhaps there is hope for us yet.

  To tell the truth, he was almost completely undone now. His lip pressed against her fevered skin and her body curved against his torso, had left him very nearly beyond control. His heart was pounding in his ears and his breath was ragged. Lightheaded with desire, he had to brace himself to keep from diving into her, seeking her mouth, cupping her curves. But, the other people crowded into the elevator provided him with just enough awareness to restrain himself. He inhaled the clean soapy scent of her shampoo and the floral-fresh scent of her that radiated with surprising heat from her body. The groan had escaped his self control and he had stiffened to prevent another from following it. Luckily, it seemed like it had gone unheard by everyone behind him. When she sighed in response to it he realized that his groan had not gone unnoticed by all. She had heard it, possibly even felt it, pressed against him as she was.

  When the elevator stopped again, and the crowd behind him began to thin, part of him wanted to stay, pressed against her in this secret, intimate moment, but he couldn’t justify it. If all of the other men had gotten out he very likely would have embraced her with all the want she stirred in his body, but as the door slid shut with only two other men left with them, his professionalism made him take a distancing step back. For a moment rejection seemed to flick across her face and it made him ache. No, he didn’t want her to think that, not ever. But when she noticed that they were neither crowded, nor alone, her expression seemed to settle on understanding tinged with impatience. Smiling shyly, he gazed at her. Whispering softly, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Matthew, at least, I will be when my heart slows down.” Her acknowledgment of just how flustered she was sent ripples through his muscles. Deciding that alone or not he was going to kiss her, he started to move again as the elevator lurched to a stop. “Our floor.” Damn, he had missed his chance. Well, maybe not. The other two men got off and he was tempted to hit the button for the roof and curl around her the instant the doors closed before he realized that Captain Moreano was standing just feet from the elevator. Seeing them, he had called their names. Thwarted, Matt shook his head and led the way out of the car, pulling his duffel bag in front of his hips as he did.

  “Has the coroner’s report been issued yet?” His question came out in a practiced, even tone, though it was obvious that he was curious about their attire. It was Elizabeth who answered him.

  “Matthew, I mean, Detective Barrow and I were sparing to pass the time. That report was supposed to come in at, like, six but it has gotten postponed to tomorrow, I think. They have finished with the dog toys and such from the Lyski apartment. Since I’ll be taking care of their dog until another home is found, I figured I’d pick it up before heading home.” He studied them for a moment, then, apparently satisfied with her explanation, he nodded and walked away. Even at ten pm the homicide department was a crowded place and their chance to be alone had passed in spite of their desires. She retreated to the women’s locker room, and he to the men’s, both emerging about twenty minutes later clean and utterly professional. Exchanging a pained glance, they boarded the elevator with several other people and made their way to the lab.

  Chapter 15

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her words almost hurt him, as they stood in front of the precinct building. For a moment he thought maybe he would offer to drive her home, hoping that they could ‘discuss’ further what had happened in the elevator, but seeing the fear and disquiet in her eyes, he decided that they had time and he didn’t want to push this and scare her back into that shell of hers, not when she was so close to letting him into her heart. Sighing, he gave her a weak smile and a nod. He watched as she flagged down a cab. Holding the door open for her, he caught her arm before she slid in beside the box of dog toys. His fingers could feel the shiver run through her as he gazed into her lovely eyes, the color summer grass.

  Softly, with a rasp he couldn’t suppress, he bent closer to her. “Goodnight, Liz. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He whispered, giving her a warm smile that she returned with a blush. Ducking into the cab, she pulled the door closed. He watched with a lurching heart as the cab pulled away, taking her with it. His heart fell to his feet. He couldn’t believe how fast and hard he had fallen. In just over a week’s time he had managed to not only develop an attraction for her, but he was now hopelessly smitten. He had fallen too far, too fast, and he knew now there was no going back. Fear racked his body, what if she didn’t return his affections, or she did, but not as deeply? He tried desperately to shake the thoughts from his head as he walked to his car. Thinking about it could drive a man to do something insane, like lose himself in drink, or show up at her door, demanding her affection, her touch.

  “Don’t be stupid.” He chastised himself
aloud, as he pulled out onto the road headed home, glad that the route to his building had become routine enough to require little thought. His mind was free to drift over the case, and her, the clues, and her, the victims, and her…the erection he had been trying to get rid of since the elevator flared again. She was all he could think about. Shifting stiffly in his seat, he tried to focus on the case instead. Unable to push her from his mind completely, he thoughts landed on the part of the case that combined both elements sickeningly together, this killer was targeting her. With a shudder, he made the realization that unless they could catch this killer soon, he might not get the chance to see where their attraction would lead them. Resolving that, despite how badly he wanted her, solving this case had to come first, he steeled himself to resist his growing need for her―at least for now.

  Closing the door to her apartment, she was greeted by the energetic bark and wagging tail of Bucky. His affection was nice, but it was a poor replacement for the affection that she wanted. Her hands shook as she emptied the toys from the box and put the dog food away. Unable to even think about sleep, she settled into the corner of her comfortable tan couch, joined by the small white dog and all his eager attention. After flicking on the TV to some random channel, she reached under the front edge of the sofa. From the shadows she pulled the old, worn, file folder of her parent’s case from its hiding place. She hoped that reviewing the clues from her case might help take her mind off the lingering feeling of his lips on her forehead, of his body pressed against hers.

  Flipping through the heavily redacted file, she skimmed over the little evidence they actually found. In her case, they had found the murder weapon. Looking over the image of the hunting knife he had used, she recounted the description of the murder weapon from the current cases. A single, smooth-edged blade, slightly hooked, approximately 10 inches long. The description fit perfectly. Closing the file, she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Sighing, she realized that she needed to share this file with Matt. She had already mentioned that the killer was most likely the same man who had attacked her family nine years ago. Despite his expertise as a detective, the fact that he hadn’t brought up the case details with her either meant that he hadn’t found them, or, that he was trying to protect her from reliving the incident. The latter made her flush with possibility. Either way, he needed the information she had. Deciding to give him the file tomorrow, she carried it to her brief case and slid it into the inside pocket. Yawning, she decided to try and get some sleep.