“Nowhere. I hit a brick wall at every turn. How about you?”
“I’m looking into sex-slavery.” They discussed the pros and cons of his theory as he told her about Sam.
“Will he find what you need?”
“If Sam can’t find it, no one can. He’s that good.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’ll start over.”
“Maybe Sam can help me on my case.”
“His regular job is to help folks find info they can’t get anywhere else. And he makes a mint doing it. He only works for the FBI a few days a week.”
“He sounds indispensible.”
“So far, the boss at the Bureau has only good things to say about him.”
“I hope he finds what you need, but you well know, not every killer who targets a certain type of woman has a connection to the sex trade.”
“I’m aware of that. But, I interviewed a woman brought in on prostitution charges, what she told me backs up my theory.” He told her about Rosa.
“Then it sounds as if you may be dead-on. I hope Sam gets some solid facts to follow up on.”
She took a sip of coffee. He watched her mouth, her hands, and the way her brow wrinkled when she was thinking.
He got up and refilled his cup, anything to stop his thoughts.
“I had a strange feeling yesterday when I was at Magee’s.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” At least when they talked, he wouldn’t be thinking crazy thoughts.
“I can’t explain it. But I think Benjie, the guy at the bar, knows more than he’s telling me. Yesterday, another bartender showed up. Young. Nice looking. Full of questions. He brought the creep factor to a new level.”
“Your gut may be warning you to stay away from there.”
“Maybe it means I’m on the right track.”
Matt shook his head. The woman didn’t understand how dangerous her work was or could be. “Then get someone in there—let HPD follow up.”
“Speaking of following up, what did your research turn up on Magee’s owner? After the exchange I witnessed yesterday, I am more than interested.”
“Benjamin Magee is the nephew of the original owner who sold the bar before he died. The deal was to keep the nephew on as long as he wanted to work. It changed hands a couple of times after that and is now owned by the Enatan Corporation. We still don’t have a person’s name to put to it.”
“And Benjie still works there. Interesting.”
“Are you going to be careful from now on? You don’t want to disappear, too, do you?”
“That’s a stupid question.” She stood. “I don’t need the FBI or HPD to come in and screw up my case.”
She was going to leave. He took her arm. She pulled away. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He didn’t want her to go. But how could he stop her?
She was at the door, turned. “I had a good time…”
He pulled her to him; saw the shock in her eyes, then pushed her away. “Just be careful, Carrie.”
She stepped closer. “You’ve wanted to kiss me all night. Get it over with so you can sleep tonight.”
Then her lips were on his and he couldn’t think. He pulled her closer, as he deepened the kiss she meant to be playful. His mind scattered and he could think of nothing except the soft feel of Carrie’s body against his. The way she fit in his arms. The kiss he never wanted to end.
When they came up for air, he looked into her eyes and saw the surprise. His had to reflect the same. “I think I’ve just been hit by a sledgehammer.”
“Wherever that came from, put it back in the bottle.” And she ran out the door.
Matt wanted to run after her, kiss her again and again.
He heard her car start—heard tires spin as she headed home.
“Be careful, Carrie. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He shut the door.
Could he forget what had just happened?
As he made his way to his lonely bedroom, he knew he couldn’t.
Knowing Carrie, she wouldn’t have that same problem. There was no doubt in his mind that the next time he saw her the kiss would never be mentioned. Carrie would block it out.
His insides twisted in a knot, he went to bed.
And prayed there would be no more nightmares. That Carrie would stay out of trouble, and he would find his killer.
Mostly, he prayed he wouldn’t lose a good friend because of something as simple as a kiss.
Chapter Nine
What happened back there?
Carrie took her foot off the accelerator. She was driving too fast, and definitely couldn’t afford a ticket. Matt had taken her by surprise. She’d meant to tease him. Boy, did that ever backfire! She’d never in her life been kissed like that. Pleasure had swept from her lips to her toes in an arc that left her weak.
Her love life had been limited. She hadn’t lost her virginity until college and wondered then what the fuss was about. The I-want-to fix-you bozo had left her disappointed in the male population. She had a feeling sex with Matt would be totally different, but it wasn’t going to happen.
They were poles apart in every way and she didn’t want to think about it. But think she did. Matt came from a super wealthy background, good schools. He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. SEALs didn’t grow on trees like grunts in the army. I’m not just from the wrong side of the tracks; my parents were dyed-in-the-wool alcoholics. Her childhood had been a nightmare. In Iraq, she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had the scars to prove it. No one with Matt’s pedigreed background would want a mongrel like her.
By the time she was at her apartment, Carrie was angry. Why had Matt kissed her like that? Why hadn’t he made the kiss a friendly one? Was he trying to ruin a perfectly good friendship? Could they even remain friends now that the genie was out of the bottle?
For the longest time, she let the feel of his kiss wrap itself around her—pull at her until she was back there in his arms again. It felt so good she didn’t want to leave.
Against her wishes, she fell asleep reliving that kiss.
When her phone rang at nine the next morning, she was still savoring the feeling. She had to blink her eyes several times to get back to reality. There was no Matt, no kisses, just a ringing phone.
“Carrie. How would you like to join me for brunch?” Doc named a restaurant known for its beautiful Sunday spread.
“Is this a special occasion?” Had she forgotten something? As fuzzy as her head felt, she could have.
“Nope. Just wanted company. Don’t worry about it if you’re not up to it. I should have asked last night, but I was having such a good time watching Matt lose his bag of pennies, I forgot.”
“I would love to. What time?”
After making arrangements to meet, Carrie hung up and lay back against the pillow. Should she confide in Doc? Carrie didn’t have girlfriends. She hadn’t had any growing up, certainly not in the army, and nothing changed while she was in college. Though Doc was older, they were good friends. This wasn’t the first Sunday they’d gone out to eat.
Strange. Coop and Dirk’s wives were friends as well. Good friends. She let out a wry laugh. There was nothing like keeping her social life in the family. Not that she was a member of the Browning family, but she was treated as one. They didn’t have a party or get-together where she wasn’t invited. She’d gone shopping with Lanie and had lunch with Sky on many occasions, and enjoyed their company.
Her social life didn’t extend beyond them.
If Matt screwed that up, she’d kill him.
With that thought, she got up, showered, dressed, and went to meet Doc.
Carrie spied Doc in a booth at the back of the packed restaurant and smiled. Her kind, green eyes glowed when she spotted Carrie.
They discussed Carrie’s case until the table was cleared and they were on their coffee, then Doc leaned across the table to take Carrie’s hand. “You look as beautiful as you always do,
Carrie, but there’s something bothering you. Last night you were your bubbly self; today you’re not. Did something happen?”
Tears stung Carrie’s eyes. She blinked them away. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it.”
“That’s up to you, of course. But I’m a good listener, and I don’t carry tales.”
She was right. The only person she could compare Doc to would be Shorty. But she could never talk to Shorty about this.
Carrie swiped a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m not good company today.”
“You’re always good company, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.”
Did she want to tell Doc? Carrie had never had a mom to talk to, confide in, or discuss problems with. But Doc was a good substitute. “I don’t know how to say this other than to just blurt it out. Matt kissed me last night.”
Doc reared back in her chair. “You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
A grin tugged at Doc’s mouth. “How was it?”
Carrie cut the older woman a glance. She didn’t seem shocked. Not even surprised. “Too darned good, if you want the truth.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You know me, Doc. I flirt and carry on with the guys, but it’s a game and everyone knows it. After the fiasco with Baxter, I don’t want a man in my bed. Not Matt, or anyone else.”
“Did Matt suggest that’s what he wanted?”
“Of course not. But why else would he kiss me?” Carrie had never told anyone about her past.
Suddenly, she wanted to tell Doc what she had never told anyone else. “My parents were alcoholics. My dad was a mean drunk. Whenever there was no food in the house, which was often, he yelled that it was my fault. Then he would lock me in the closet for the rest of the night. Sometimes, the next morning he would forget and not let me out. More than once, I peed in my pants.” Remembering was painful. Telling was even worse. “The only Christmas celebrations I ever had were with my wonderful neighbor, Ms. Jackson.” Carrie told Doc how the kind woman had saved her life. “On Christmas morning, my parents would be dead to the world, so I would sneak out of the house. Ms. Jackson would take me to church. Later, at her house, she always gave me a nice gift. Sometimes a new outfit, shoes, and mittens, that I hid until I knew my parents were too far out of it to notice. We would have a nice meal. Of course I was grateful, but it wasn’t the same. And all the time I was afraid my dad would find out and put me back in the closet.” When she finished, she sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited to see her friend’s reaction.
“My God, Carrie. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. Thank the Lord you had such a nice neighbor. Your childhood was a nightmare, but I don’t see what your background has to do with a kiss. It sounds as if Matt finally woke up to see you, as you really are—a lovely woman. One who is not only smart, but a good person. I would love to see the two of you get together.”
“But…Doc. We’re total opposites. I can’t begin to compete in Matt’s world.”
“You are in Matt’s world. And why do you have to compete? Against what? Who? You just have to be yourself.” The older woman leaned closer across the table. “Tell me how you feel about Matt. You’ve known him a good long while, been friends. Do you want to take this to the next level? Or would you be happy leaving your relationship where it is?”
A tear escaped and Carrie swiped it away. “A romantic relationship with Matt scares me to death. I don’t want anything to interfere with my relationship with the family.” She had to struggle to get herself under control. “You and the Brownings are the only family I have. What would I do without all of you?”
“If you think any one of us would abandon you, you’re mistaken. The family, and I include myself in that group, are committed to each other. That will never change.”
“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe the kiss meant nothing to Matt and he’ll not have another thought about it. I’ll just leave it at that, and go about my business as usual.”
“I think that’s a good idea. Sometimes, we tend to think a problem to death.”
Carrie smiled her first real smile of the day. “I’m so glad you asked me to brunch. I’ll not worry another second about it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure he has a more than a few former debutantes who would be more than willing to give him all he wants.” And more. Who could blame them? Matt was amazing. But he wasn’t for her. “I want to help him with his cousin problem, but I don’t want him to know.”
Doc’s brow wrinkled. “What do you have in mind?”
Carrie grinned. “Undercover. How does this sound? Blonde, blue eyes, tight dress—that I have to find soon, spike heels. Think that will get the cousin’s attention?”
Doc let out a belly laugh. “Unless he’s dead.”
“I want to see if he’ll tell me something that will help Matt with his court case.”
Doc reached over and took Carrie’s hand. “You’re a good friend. Are you going to tell the others?”
“Are you kidding? They’ll tell Matt in a heartbeat, and he’ll try to stop me.”
“Do you think that consignment shop is open on Sundays?”
Carrie’s eyes lit up. “Will you go with me? I want something spectacular.”
After paying the tab, the two gathered their things and left. Two hours later, Carrie came out of the shop with a slinky red dress, a pair of black silk pants with a black-and-white silk blouse that dipped almost too low, plus a pair of heels she couldn’t resist.
They parted at their cars. “Thanks Doc. You have been a big help. And thanks for listening.”
“Never sell yourself short, my dear. You may not come from wealth, but you have much more than money to offer.”
Doc hugged Carrie and left. Carrie headed back to her apartment.
She felt better. Being with Doc always did that for her.
Heaving a deep breath, she walked into her apartment. She had the perfect clothes to entice Reed Montgomery to open up. She couldn’t wait.
****
Matt huffed out a breath with every thrust of his glove-encased fist into the punching bag. He’d been at it an hour. Sweat dripped from his head to his toes in a steady river. No matter how long or how hard he pounded the bag, last night’s kiss stayed in his head. One exciting, over-the-top kiss had brought him to his knees. His glance went to the clock on the far wall of his exercise room. He’d missed lunch with the family. Fine with him, he wasn’t hungry anyway. If so, there were plenty of leftovers in the fridge.
He kept up the rhythm of punching: dancing around the bag, punching again and again, until he gave up and hung on to the bag to keep from falling.
“What the hell are you doing?” Coop asked from the doorway.
“What does it look like?”
Coop put an arm around Matt’s shoulder. “Look at you. You’re sweaty and you smell. Take a shower.”
There was a huge bathroom with a walk-in shower attached to the exercise room that Matt and his brothers took advantage of when they worked out. Right now, Matt didn’t think his rubbery legs would carry him that far.
Evidently seeing his distress, Coop took Matt’s arm, looped it over his shoulder and led him to the bathroom. “What are you trying to prove? You’re the one who preaches that over-exercise is worse than no exercise. What’s this about?”
Matt shrugged away and slammed the door.
When he stepped out fifteen minutes later, a bottle of water in hand, both his brothers were waiting. No doubt Coop had called Dirk to tell him that Matt wasn’t acting like himself. Hell no, he wasn’t. He’d kissed one of his best friends. There had to be something wrong with him. He’d have to find a way to apologize that wouldn’t make Carrie angry.
Just thinking about Carrie on one of her tirades made him cower.
“What’s wrong, Matt. Are you letting your case get to you?”
“Which case?” Was Coop kidding? His case had nothing to do with the fact that he was b
eing foolish—acting like a fifteen-year-old. But he wasn’t about to tell his brothers he had kissed Carrie. They would hoot and holler until he would be ready to draw his gun.
“You missed lunch, too. Spill it.”
“Actually, Dirk, I forgot.” Not a lie. “Anyway, I’m still full from last night’s feast.”
Coop edged around the state-of-the-art treadmill and headed toward the door. “You wanna tell us why you were beating your punching bag like it was your mortal enemy?”
“I’m into good health. What can I say?”
“I say you’re covering up the truth.”
“Get over it.” He gave them a long look. They were dressed in worn jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers. “Are you ready to get to work on the papers in the trunks?”
“Yeah! Maggie is taking a nap. So is Shorty. Lanie is making a list of some kind.”
Matt turned to Dirk. “And you?”
“Sky is on the phone with Dory. They’re talking about the baby. She’ll probably talk for an hour or longer. She won’t even know I’m gone.”
Matt threw up his hands. “Then let’s get to work. We have to find proof that my great-great-grandfather didn’t borrow money from his brother or if he did, paid it back.”
“Finding proof may be difficult.”
“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one, Coop.”
Though Matt felt like a limp noodle, he followed his brothers to the attic where they would attack the trunks. Most of the huge space was filled with furniture that had been in the attic of the estate when it was sold after his parents died. Without giving it a second thought, the stuff had gone into his attic when he moved into his new house.
They settled on the floor to go through the stacks of paper spread throughout the space. “Where do I start?”
“We’re in the weeding-out process. Glance at every piece of paper. If it doesn’t pertain to money loaned or paid back, put it in this box.”
They’d found a large moving box and now had it front and center. An hour later, it was half-full. “Somebody never threw out a thing. Most of these are old invoices and bills of lading. If what Reed claims is true or not, there should be proof here somewhere.”
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