Up In Flames

by Lori Foster

  “You’re feeling muddled, too,” Dane pointed out, while gently rubbing her back. “All the more reason you should give things a chance. Go to his place, rest up, talk. I’m not saying to forgive him tonight, but at least let the opportunity exist for him to make it up to you. Give him a chance to explain. Who knows? Maybe he’ll say something profound and you’ll be able to forgive him.”

  They heard a noise and looked up the stairs. Mick stood at the top. Had he heard their conversation? His gaze on Del, he said, “We found something.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Dane put his arm around her and started her walking. “It’s been a rough day. Wouldn’t you like to go sit down and let your mind rest for a few minutes?”

  Mick waited for them, watching Del closely with his intense, probing gaze. He almost seemed to be holding his breath, he stayed so still.

  “Delilah?”

  The gentleness, the hope in the way he whispered her name, broke Del’s resolve. She nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

  He let out his breath in a rush.

  “But this doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

  He nodded. “I haven’t forgiven myself. For now I just want to get you settled and know you’re safe.” Then to Dane he said, “It’s an optic fiber Minicam. High-tech stuff, run from the apartment next door.”

  Dane halted in midstep. “Next door?”

  “Led in through the vents on the connecting walls.” He glanced at Del, and she could feel his suppressed rage. He held himself in check for her, but he was more furious than she’d ever seen him. “Which included all the rooms except the kitchen and the bathroom.”

  Thinking of the eyes that had been on her, watching her while she wrote, slept, while she made love with Mick, made her stomach lurch. In the next instant Mick was there, gathering her close despite the trouble between them. “I’ll find them, babe, I swear.”

  Giving herself a brief respite from her pride, Del rested her head on his shoulder. God, it felt good to have him hold her again.

  When Dane went ahead into her apartment, Mick led her toward Josh and Zack. He touched her chin, bringing her gaze up to his. “I think it’d be best if you waited in my car. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Josh threw his arm around her shoulder—and Mick promptly removed it. He said under his breath, “You’ve pushed enough today, Josh.”

  Josh just grinned, and Del had no idea what they were going on about.

  “Have you ever noticed the neighbors next door?” Alec asked Del as he reentered the hall.

  She gathered her scattered emotions. Now was no time to fall apart. “I know most everyone else in the building, but I thought that apartment was vacant.”

  “Does your landlord live here?”

  “Afraid not.” She wrung her hands, still shaken by having her worst suspicions confirmed. “I can call him if you want to check it out.”

  Mick shook his head. “We’ll need to notify Faradon. He’ll get a search warrant.”

  Del looked from one male face to another. “So what do we do now?”

  “We get you settled and safe.” Mick’s eyes narrowed. “And then I’m going to see Rudy again.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Delilah waited inside Mick’s house while he carried in her computer equipment, which she’d insisted on bringing along. Alec had checked the hardware and software for bugs and declared everything clean, so there was no reason for her to miss her deadline.

  A severe headache left her somewhat nauseous, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d never been in Mick’s home before. Whenever he’d needed something, she’d offered to bring him home, but he’d always gotten someone else to take care of it.

  Now she realized why. He hadn’t wanted her inside his personal domain. That would have been too close to suit him. He wanted to keep her as distant as he could while still being intimate with her. And she, like a fool, had given him the perfect opportunity by moving him into her apartment.

  “Where would you like me to put it?”

  She turned to see Mick standing in the doorway, his arms filled with her monitor and keyboard, watching her. Josh and Zack stood behind him, loaded down with more equipment.

  Del glanced around and shrugged. “I guess the bar counter would work as well as anywhere.”

  Mick didn’t move, even though Zack and Josh were making impatient noises behind him. “You can use my desk.”

  “No, thanks.” She walked away. The last thing she wanted was to further invade his privacy.

  Almost an hour passed before they had her settled in. Dane had trailed them during the move, watching to make certain they weren’t followed. The whole thing seemed very cloak-and-dagger to Del. Despite her profession, she’d never expected to be on the receiving end of a real mystery. Mysteries were figments of her imagination, not reality.

  Mick’s house, moderate in size, probably forty years old, had a quaint coziness about it. Del stood at the kitchen sink looking out the window. His backyard faced a cul-de-sac, and some distance away she could see a pool filled with playing children, another family grilling out on their patio. It all seemed so...domestic. Hard to believe she was here because someone wanted her dead.

  Zack slipped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. “You’ll be all right.”

  She patted his hands where they crisscrossed her waist. One thing she’d realized through all this was that Josh and Zack were now her friends, too. She cherished that fact. “You think so?”

  “I know there’s no way in hell Mick’s going to let anything happen to you.”

  She laughed at that. “Oh, I dunno. He just might decide I’m a criminal again and hand me over to them.”

  “Nope, ain’t gonna happen. You’ve thrown him for a loop is all, and believe me, that’s not easy to do.” He kissed her temple, then asked, “Did I ever tell you how hard it was to make friends with him?”

  She shook her head.

  “He was so closed off, so damned isolated from everyone and everything. Because the fire department and the life squad are located right next door to each other, Josh and I were friends before we ever met Mick. But we all ate at Marco’s and every day we’d see Mick sitting there alone. He’d just eat and leave.”

  It wasn’t a pleasant image, his self-imposed isolation, and Del’s heart softened in spite of her efforts to the contrary.

  “One day some guys came in drunk and started causing problems.” Del heard an odd note of enthusiasm in Zack’s tone. “They were loud, disruptive, making a mess and scaring off customers. It was interesting, watching Mick go on alert, seeing how he took it all in and waited to make a move, without even appearing to notice. A waitress asked the men to leave, and one of the guys stood and took an aggressive stance. There were four of them, but Mick never hesitated to jump to her defense.

  “He told the guy—nicely—to back off. A punch was thrown, and within seconds, Mick had the guy flattened. The others tried to rush him, three against one, but Mick didn’t have any problem handling them.” Zack chuckled. “He sure got Josh’s respect that day.”

  “You two didn’t help him?”

  “He didn’t give us a chance,” Zack claimed defensively. “At least not with the actual fight. But afterward Josh insisted on buying him a drink—insist being the operative word, because Mick was hell-bent on keeping to himself—and the rest is history. It still took us half a year to get him to loosen up, to finally realize we weren’t in cahoots with the bad guys. But we’ve been pretty close ever since.”

  “You’re saying Mick doesn’t come by trust easily?”

  “You have to get him there kicking and screaming.”

  She smiled, thinking that a pretty apt picture. “Why?”

  “Now that’s something you’ll have to ask Mick.”

  “I’m glad you’re not telling all my secrets, Zack.”

  Zack gave Del a reassuring squeeze and turned to face Mick with a grin. “Just trying to help out.”


  Josh stood next to Mick. “Good luck. I just got read the riot act for that very same thing.”

  “You,” Zack said, “had it coming.”

  Mick actually smiled. “You know, Zack, sometimes it’s hard as hell to tell whose side you’re on.”

  “I’m on the side of the right and just.” He saluted Mick. “I suppose you’re ready for us to make our exit?”

  “I wouldn’t be that rude.”

  Josh snorted. “He told me to get the hell out.” So saying, Josh went to Del and hugged her right off her feet. “If he gives you any problems, call me.”

  Over Josh’s shoulder, Del saw Mick’s expression harden, and she quickly disengaged herself. “I’ll be fine.”

  Josh teased, “But just in case...”

  Zack grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him away. “I need to get home for Dani, so we’ll see you both later. Mick, if you need anything, just let us know.”

  Mick didn’t answer; he was too busy watching Del.

  She shifted uncomfortably, then heard the front door close. Now what? she wondered.

  Mick came a step closer to her. She felt hemmed in by his imposing silence and the cold sink at her back.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected, but he only said, “You look exhausted. Why don’t you take a warm shower while I hook up all your computer stuff? Or are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat.”

  She shook her head, very unsure of herself and the situation. “A shower sounds nice. But I...I don’t know where it is.”

  Appearing pained, he closed his eyes, then opened them with a rueful sigh. “I’ll show you around.”

  It was a two-bedroom house with hardwood floors and a small cream-and-black tiled bathroom. He showed her his bedroom, his air watchful, then the guest bedroom across the narrow hallway. Del peeked into both rooms.

  His dark gaze pierced her careful reserve. “You can use whichever room you want.” Unnamed emotions deepened his voice.

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “Wherever you want me to.”

  Well, heck. That put the decision back on her, and she felt too unsteady to force the issue at the moment. She gestured toward the smaller room. “I’ll use this one.”

  With no inflection whatsoever, Mick said, “All right. I’ll put your things in there.” He led her back into the bathroom. “Towels are in the linen closet right here, and shampoo and stuff is already on the tub ledge.”

  He started to turn away and she reached for him. The muscles in his forearm tightened when her hand closed around his wrist. “Mick?”

  He looked from her hand to her face. “Yeah?”

  Del wanted to groan. He was so stiff, so...formal. She had a feeling he was trying not to pressure her, but she wished he would... No, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  “Is there any chance they know where you live?”

  “No. We weren’t followed today. Dane made sure of that, and I trust him. And only my closest friends, and the people I work with, have my address.”

  “But...”

  In the briefest of touches, his fingertips grazed her cheek. “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, honey. I wanted to wait until I got you here, so you couldn’t change your mind about staying with me. But now I think I have to come clean.”

  Del stiffened. “If you’re going to hurt me again, Mick Dawson—”

  “No.” His fingers tunneled into her hair, stroking her warmly. “I swear, I’ll do my best never to hurt you again. But what I have to say will probably make you madder than hell.”

  She could deal with mad, she supposed. “All right.”

  “Take your shower, get comfortable, then we’ll sit down and lay everything out in the open.”

  She wasn’t at all sure she liked the sound of that, but figured he was right. From here on out, she wanted, demanded, honesty. If he couldn’t give her that, they had nothing.

  * * *

  Mick gave a satisfied nod. He’d managed to accomplish a lot while she showered. But then, she’d stayed in there forever. Too many times to count he’d wanted to check on her, to make sure she wasn’t crying or upset, but he knew getting too close to her while she was naked and wet would be his downfall.

  So he clenched his teeth and worked. He had her computer, printer and fax machine all set up in a neat little organized corner. He’d given her his own padded desk chair, and taken one from the dinette set for himself. He’d hung her clothes in the closet, changed the sheets on the guest bed—a bed that had never been used. Canned chicken noodle soup simmered on the stove.

  He’d called his sergeant and explained things, and spoken with both Faradon and Dane. Unfortunately, the apartment next to Del’s was indeed empty, but they had been able to get some fingerprints. Running them would take some time.

  Mick had just finished cutting two sandwiches into halves when Delilah walked in.

  Her wet hair was combed straight back from her forehead and she’d pulled on loose shorts and a T-shirt. Barefoot as usual, she padded toward him and pulled out a chair. “I hadn’t realized I was hungry, but the soup smells good.”

  Mick was so tense even his knuckles hurt as he put some soup in a bowl and set it before her. They ate in silence. When she was almost finished, he said, “I’m not a private investigator.”

  Her head lifted, her eyes wide and cautious. “You’re not?”

  Because he couldn’t stop himself, Mick pushed his bowl aside and took her hand. “At first I lied out of necessity. I can’t tell everyone the truth, that’s just a fact of my job. Why I continued to let you believe the lie, I’m not sure. I told myself that we didn’t know each other well enough. Too many things didn’t add up.” He met her beautiful blue eyes and admitted, “Actually, I think I was just afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  He looked down at their clasped hands. She was so small boned, so delicate despite her height. She had a willowy appearance, and he wanted nothing more than to protect and cherish her. “It isn’t easy to admit, but you scare the hell out of me.”

  Time stretched taut while she pondered those words. She turned her hand in his and returned his hold. After taking a deep breath, she said, “Okay, so what do you really do?”

  “I’m a cop. I work undercover.”

  She stared at him, silent.

  “I’d just finished a bust when I met you, which is a good thing, since I don’t have a medical release to get back to work yet, and I hate turning over a case to someone new. It screws up the work that’s already been done.”

  Still holding his hand, Delilah rested her free arm on the table and leaned forward, her animosity and distrust replaced by curiosity. “That’s why you were armed?”

  “Dane and Alec really are PIs. But yeah, I never go anywhere without my gun. Used to be a gun would make you stick out as a cop, but these days not having a gun would be a bigger giveaway. The world has turned into a nasty place.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “What you do, is it dangerous?”

  “Sometimes.” Lying to her was no longer an option. “I mostly deal with prostitutes and drugs and gambling. Because of what I do, I live well away from where I work.”

  “I noticed.”

  Of course she had. Delilah was no dummy, he thought with a sense of pride. Even more encouraging was the fact that she hadn’t yet pulled away from him. He took hope. “Rudy knew I was a cop. He said you knew and had told him.”

  He felt her slight emotional withdrawal when she stated, “But now you know that isn’t true.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to soothe her. “I assume he heard me on the phone, talking to my sarge while I was at your apartment.”

  “Where was I?”

  “The shower, the bed, involved in writing.”

  “Oh.”

  “Delilah...I’m sorry.”

  “No, I understand.”

  “Do you? Because I sure as hell don’t.” Self-disgust rose in his throat. “That first nig
ht I spent with you, I should have told you the truth.”

  “As I remember it, that first night I was too busy seducing you,” she said, her tone lighter, more accepting.

  “And here I thought I was the seducer.”

  Her face suddenly paled and she swallowed. “All the while, someone watched us.”

  “Don’t think about that.” Mick wanted to pull her into his lap, to hold her close. Instead, he redirected her thoughts. “If one of Rudy’s cohorts did hear me, they still wouldn’t know I was undercover. The station protects my identity.”

  Mick could see her researcher’s mind at work. She frowned thoughtfully and said, “I think I understand how all this works, although I’ve never interviewed an undercover officer before.”

  “Now’s your chance,” he teased, so relieved that she wasn’t angry, he almost felt weak.

  “You drive your personal car to the station, but then trade up for an undercover car?”

  “Not exactly. No uniforms ever know who’s undercover. There’s a special place where we switch cars, provided by the city. Once a car gets burnt up—”

  “Burnt up?”

  “Recognized.” She nodded and he continued. “Then we get a new car.”

  “Something old and disreputable?” she asked, her nose wrinkling at the thought even as her eyes lit up with interest.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. But sometimes we get a fancy car. You never know. It depends on the case.”

  “You work with a partner?”

  “Not exactly, but no one ever works without backup. We all carry pagers and cell phones—another common tool among criminals, thankfully. If something goes wrong, we have special codes we can dial to get help fast.”

  They talked for over an hour. Delilah surprised him with her understanding. But then maybe it was just her desire to learn about his profession that swayed her. He told her about how wires could be detected with special devices that ran through TVs. If the TV reception got wavy, meaning it had picked up the wire’s reception, a perp might know he’d been set up, and things could get hazardous real quick.

  Mick told her about his jump-out bag. It held a mask to cover his face when he made arrests, so the perps wouldn’t recognize him. And about his vest, which he wore even when it was ninety degrees outside. He described the SIG Sauer guns some punks carried, and the hollow-point bullets used to make a bigger wound.