“You go ahead. Once I’m sure you’re going to be okay, I’ll go to bed.”
“You’re too good to me.
“We have to stick together.” Doc smiled. “We’re sisters under the skin.”
“I was thinking the same.” Only Carrie was thinking mother-daughter. It didn’t matter. The fact they were both alone in the world tied them as tightly as if they were blood kin. She understood completely how Matt, Coop, and Dirk claimed to be brothers when they were totally unrelated by blood. It was a closeness most siblings didn’t have. She felt the same about Doc.
Would Doc care as deeply when Carrie stopped going to the weekly get-togethers? Would she turn her back on her, same as Matt?
She brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush, slathered moisturizer on her face, and left the bathroom.
Doc was waiting.
“Better?”
“Much. Thank you.”
Doc stood and gave Carrie another hug. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“What would I do without you?”
“You don’t have to.” And she was gone, the door shutting softly behind her.
Carrie let out a grateful sigh as she crawled into bed, stretched out, and shut her eyes.
Exhaustion carried her into sleep within minutes.
The dream came again.
The room was dimly lit. She could barely see. “I don’t want you,” she told the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man.
“Yes, you do.” He reached to unbutton her blouse.
She pushed his hand away.
He wasn’t deterred. He linked an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him.
She felt his hardness through her clothes. When his mouth found hers, she couldn’t hold back the sigh of pleasure.
He deepened the kiss, making her body shake with longing. “I want you naked.” And he made it so, leaving her breathless and full of a need that raged through her body like fire. How could he do this to her?
His hands shifted to her bottom where he caressed every curve. She savored the moment, wanting more, and found herself enjoying the taste and feel of him. She had to have him.
But he was in no hurry, teasing, pleasuring her in ways she didn’t think possible. The touch of his tongue on hers as he trailed kisses down her neck, sent an explosion of need through her. “Bed. Now!” she demanded
“Carrie.”
“Matt?” She pushed him away. Stood.
There was no one there. She stood in the dark, her body sweaty, her breath coming in hard gasps. Then she sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want Matt—didn’t want to so much as talk to him, much less make love.
Yet he was still in her dreams.
She inhaled deeply, letting it fill her until she couldn’t hold it another moment. Then let it out. The thought of never knowing Matt as a friend again, much less a lover, left her upset and angry.
At five o’clock, she got up and dressed. After leaving Doc a thank-you note, she went to her car and drove to her apartment.
She felt as if she’d been hit by a truck and left in a ditch to die.
There was no way she was going into the office today.
Maybe tomorrow.
Chapter Fourteen
Carrie pushed herself through her morning routine for two hours before she called the office to tell Coop she wouldn’t be in. There was no point in telling them she was sick, as she was never sick, so she told him she had several leads to follow and would be busy all day.
She was busy. Just not on her case. Unless you counted thinking about it, trying to make the connection between her missing person and Magee’s. The connection was there. The same as it was with Matt’s two victims. But what? Was Benjie a killer?
She couldn’t see him in that role. Though he was weird, sloppy, and overweight, her gut told her he wasn’t guilty. At least not of murder.
After dusting and cleaning the house from top to bottom, she took a shower, put on her biker-duds and headed to Doc’s to get her bike. When she got to Magee’s she wasn’t surprised to see it open for business. There were at least half dozen cars in the parking area and a new front door. But the smell when she opened it and stepped inside was the same: beer, sweat and, if she had to put a name to it, resignation to the lot in life these people found themselves in.
The usual day-drinkers were hard at it, but there was no one at the bar. Voices drew her around the corner where the restrooms were. A door further down the hall was open. She crept closer and the voices grew louder.
Benjie was protesting. “It’s not my fault.”
“Really? Then who? You were the only one here—the one the FBI brought in for interrogation. What did you tell them?”
Carrie held her breath. It sounded like Hank’s voice, but she dared not take the chance and peek around the doorframe to confirm it.
“Since I don’t know anything, what the hell could I tell them?”
Something hit the wall. Carrie jumped, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Hank was angry. What was his part in this? Or was he the owner and furious because the FBI had shut him down for twenty-four hours?
“Keep it that way.”
Footsteps headed her way. Carrie hurried to the restroom door and prayed it wasn’t locked. She had barely pushed it closed when the sound of heavy boots beat a path past the door she was leaning against.
Hank was definitely mixed up in something. Was it murder? Drugs?
She stayed there until her heartbeat settled down and convinced herself that if questioned, she could bluff.
But when she stepped into the bar area, Hank had disappeared, and Benjie was talking to a guy at the other end of the bar. He didn’t see her slip onto a barstool until one of the guys got up from a table, came her way, and asked her to dance.
She gave him a smile and sent him on his way.
Benjie came over. “The usual?”
“Sure.”
He wouldn’t look her in the eye. Little wonder, since the FBI hauled them off yesterday. “How did it go?”
He looked up as he slid a bottle of club soda her way. “Not good.”
“What did they want? They asked me a bunch of questions, but all I could tell them was what I told you. I’m hunting my friend who came to Magee’s on occasion, and I wanted to see if anyone knew where she was. What did they want with you?”
“That FBI dude double-downed on me. Claimed I knew something about the two women who were killed. They were customers, but I sure as hell don’t know what they did after they left here.”
“Did they search the place?”
Benjie made a face. “Not just here, but my house as well. I’m about to lose my job over this.”
He had a desperate look in his eyes that made Carrie feel sorry for him. Then she realized he could be putting on an act.
At this point she didn’t know what to believe.
“Have you seen Hank around? He promised to point me in the direction of a good job.” Like she didn’t have a million questions about the guy. He couldn’t be trusted, but the urge to find Amy outweighed her concerns.
Benjie’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Don’t believe him.”
“Why not? He sounded sincere.”
“He has a line with the women.”
She took a sip of her drink, sat the bottle down. “Most men do, but if he can get me a job, I won’t have to re-up.”
“You’re better off in the army.”
“Why would you say that?”
Another customer came in and he was off to get them a beer and didn’t come back. She figured Benjie was through talking, and left.
Tomorrow, she’d tell the guys what she’d learned, and see if they could find anything on Hank or Benjie that would help her find Amy.
Though she was furious with Matt and had no idea if they could rekindle their friendship, the urge to help him protect the Trust was still there. The urge had nothing to do with Matt perso
nally, she told herself. It was the Trust and the fact that dozens of charities would lose critical funding.
One organization especially tugged at her; a center where alcoholics and their families came for help. Both doctors and counselors were available there. AA meetings were held and children of alcoholics could find comfort and words of encouragement. She wouldn’t want to see it closed for lack of funds.
Tonight, she would try to make contact with Reed Montgomery. Maybe she could pry something out of him that would help.
After a soak in the tub with her favorite bath salts, she began the process of changing herself into sexy Cassandra Kane. It took two hours. When she was finished, she gave herself a once-over in the full-length mirror.
A blue-eyed blonde stared back at her. Carrie grinned. Even her lips looked different, as she’d lined them just a smidgen larger than normal and filled them in with dark, red lip gloss. Her long, red dress dipped modestly in front and showed an outline of her boobs. Her right arm and shoulder were bare; her left had a full-length sleeve that ended at her wrist. She turned to see her back. This was what had sold her on the dress. Small strips of red crisscrossed to below her waist and showed a lot of skin. Her six-inch-heel strappy sandals looked sexy.
“This should do it.” She grabbed a small, black, jewel-encrusted evening bag, threw a black silk shawl over her shoulders and left. The taxi she had ordered was waiting.
When she entered the ritzy downtown hotel, she took a deep breath and whispered, “Reed had better be here.” After a quick prayer that her efforts wouldn’t be wasted, she walked into the bar as if she owned the place.
Going to a small table for two in the far corner, she sat down. In seconds, a waiter was there for her order. “Club soda, please. With a twist.”
He bowed and left.
She put her bag on the table, shrugged her shawl off, and looked around. She spotted a tall man, a glass of wine in his hand, and a bored look on his face as he surveyed the room. Reed. Had to be. He was leaning against the bar amongst a dozen millennials who were laughing, talking, and checking their cell phones. He had the same build, same coloring, as his cousin. Though this man’s eyes were the same dark-brown as Matt’s, they were hard, his chin weak instead of strong.
Still, her heart beat faster at the similarities.
She gave him an uninterested look and turned back to the drink her waiter sat before her and kept her gaze on the doorway. She gave him three minutes—counted the seconds in her head and there he was. Two and a half minutes.
“May I sit down? It’s a little crowded.”
She turned to him, her smile cool and impersonal. “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”
“I’ll leave when he gets here.”
“How will I explain having a drink with another man?”
Reed’s smile widened. “I’m an old friend you just happened to run into.”
“Well, since we’re old friends, have a seat.” His aftershave was a bit on the strong side and she couldn’t help but compare him with Matt. Except there was no comparison.
“Reed Montgomery.” He stuck out his hand.
She took it. “Cassandra Kane.”
“Meeting your boyfriend?”
“You could say that. You?”
“Just having a drink before dinner, but the youngsters at the bar are beginning to get on my nerves.”
Carrie laughed. Reed looked at her with male appreciation. Her gaze went to the bar where the kids were having a great, but noisy time. “Do you come here often?”
“When I’m in town.”
“Where’s home?”
“California. San Diego, to be exact.”
She cocked her head. “Long way from home. Are you here on business?”
“You might say that. What about you? Is this home?”
She shook her head. “Dallas. And I am here on business. The company I work for sends me here and there to soothe the investors’ ruffled feathers.”
“I’ll bet you’re good at that. Is your boyfriend one of those investors?”
“No. Enough about me, tell me what brings you to Houston?”
Reed took a long sip of wine, watching her over the rim of his glass. She turned wide innocent eyes his way. “I guess you can say I’m here to collect my inheritance.”
She lifted her glass. “I hope it’s a big one.”
“Oh, it is.”
“Good for you.” Her gaze went to the doorway once more, then to her watch.
“Late?”
“Yes. And I’ve waited as long as I intend to.” She called the waiter over, gave him a ten and told him to keep the change. Picking up her purse with one hand, her shawl with the other, she turned to Reed. “I hope you enjoy your inheritance.”
He put his glass of wine on the table and stood. “Why don’t we move to the dining room? I have a reservation and would appreciate the company.”
Carrie hesitated. This was what she wanted, but didn’t want to appear too eager. “I should go back to my hotel and nurse my hurt feelings.”
“You’re not staying here?”
She shook her head.
He told the waiter to put his drink on his bill and took her arm. “We’re friends, remember. Nothing wrong with sharing a meal.”
“You’re right. I hate to get all dressed up for nothing.” Her smile was dazzling. She hoped.
They walked into the dining room laughing. It wasn’t long before they were sharing their life history. At least Reed’s sounded more like the real deal than hers, which was entirely made up.
“So your family has money?”
Reed’s face turned stony. “Some of the family.”
“And you want your share.”
She watched as his eyes turned to slits and he clamped down. She would get nothing more out of him tonight.
She lifted her glass. “Here’s to a big, fat inheritance’”
He lifted his glass and gave her a look that told her what he was thinking. Gold Digger. It was time to stop with the personal questions. “Do you prefer San Diego over Houston?”
“Both have their pluses and minuses.”
“So they do.” She looked at her watch again. “It’s getting late, and I have several meetings tomorrow.”
After signing the bill, he held her chair as she got to her feet. “Thanks for saving the evening. I still can’t believe he stood me up. He won’t get another chance.”
“He’s a fool.”
They were at the door. His closeness made her shudder in distaste.
“I enjoyed our visit. Can I see you again?”
“As did I. Let me think.” She paused a minute. Tomorrow was Saturday and she never booked anything for that evening. Though she was still having second thoughts about seeing Matt, she would go and deal with him then. “I’m busy tomorrow night, but we could have a late lunch.” She would try one more time to get Reed to talk. That was it.
“Same place, around two?”
“Why not.” They shook hands and she went to the taxi stand.
She sensed him watching her every step. Good. She wanted his attention. Even more, she wanted information.
****
Unable to sleep, Matt fought the covers. Carrie’s face penetrated his senses. What had he done? He’d never seen her as down as she had been in the interrogation room yesterday. Carrie always had a smile on her face, a lilt in her voice. It was his fault. Why hadn’t the guys given her water? Or a bathroom break? Because they assumed she was a suspect and had treated her as such. They didn’t know. But he did. He had royally screwed up. His brothers were going to kill him. Carrie may never speak to him again.
He wouldn’t blame her. Being focused on finding a killer was no excuse. An apology was in order. A big one. He’d give her time to cool off and apologize.
The day had been busy, but nothing kept him from thinking about Carrie. Flannery had called him into his office to talk to a couple of the old-timers on the Trust’s board. He’d spent two h
ours listening to stories of the old days, but didn’t come away with one scintilla of information that would help his case.
To top it off, Sam hadn’t come up with anything either. Not on Matt’s great-great-grandfather or on the black sites. He had found many; just not the one in Houston Matt was looking for. If Matt was on the right trail, and the victims had been kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder, he had to find out who the slavers were and where they held their auctions. It was a lot to ask of anyone, but he had faith in Sam and his abilities.
Matt pounded the pillow. He couldn’t get Carrie out of his head. He’d wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her at FBI headquarters—to hell with the cameras that recorded every action and every word. But Carrie wouldn’t even look at him.
He had hurt her deeply and should have found her today to apologize, but she hadn’t gone to work and he had no idea where to find her. He’d made a run by Magee’s earlier in the evening to see if she was there, but her Harley wasn’t in the parking area, so he left. And she wasn’t at her apartment, as he had rung the bell repeatedly with no answer. Her car was in its usual parking space. So, why didn’t she answer the door?
Maybe that’s why he was so tormented. He didn’t know if she was in trouble or not. He should have kicked the damned door in.
Maybe he was overthinking. Carrie had proven she could handle just about any situation, yet he couldn’t stop worrying.
Sitting up, he rubbed a hand through his hair and over his face. There was no way he would sleep until he knew she was all right.
He got out of bed and dressed. He’d check Magee’s again and her apartment.
Knowing he was acting out of character didn’t stop him.
Knowing Carrie could take care of herself didn’t stop him.
Knowing he cared more than he ever had about another woman made him hurry.
Chapter Fifteen
Carrie’s Harley wasn’t at Magee’s. Her car was still in its parking space at her apartment complex. If she didn’t answer the door, he’d buy her a new one, because he sure as hell was going to talk to her tonight.
When he got out of his SUV, a taxi pulled up. A blonde stepped out and walked through the apartment’s main door. From what he could see, the woman was gorgeous. He was several yards behind her when she punched the button for the elevator. Not wanting to frighten her, he kept his distance and would catch the next one. Women were cautious these days, and he didn’t blame them.
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