by Kallie Lane
“Whatever she knew, she can’t tell us anymore. Keep after the diocese for the list of parishioners. Our killer’s name could be on the list.”
“Right, I’m on it.”
“How’s Sal doing with the surveillance tapes from the docks?” Sully asked.
“He’s still running license plate numbers. Nothing’s jumped out at him so far. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Make sure he stays on top of it, Jacques. And call me if the lab finds anything useful on the pizza boxes or hospital evidence, including the hearse. Sooner or later, The Shepherd will screw up and leave proof of his identity behind.”
“There is one other thing,” Millette offered. “The pizza delivery guy hasn’t turned up at his apartment. No one has seen him since he delivered at Dr. McGill’s house. His friends think he’s camping at Long Sault.”
“Find him.”
“Sanchez and Lemieux are already on it. I have another lead to chase down.”
Millette hung up and Sully tossed the phone across the bed. He still had nothing but a shitload of questions and no answers. He also wondered what other lead Millette was working on. He wouldn’t put it past him to hoard information, didn’t think of him as a team player.
He rasped a hand along the stubble lining his chin. Four in the morning and Breeana was already up for the day. He might as well shower, shave, and get started himself.
Chapter Fourteen
The Shepherd snapped out of a dead sleep with a gun in his hand. Someone had tripped the silent alarm. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he headed for the back window. With a bird’s-eye view, he saw the cop right away. And recognized him. The idiot. He was zigging when he should be zagging to get to the front door.
Silent and steady, he slid the window wide. Easing over the sill, he dropped onto the porch roof and then to the ground. Moving with stealth, he shadowed his visitor, inching through the undergrowth running from the curb to the front of the beach house.
He watched the cop pound on his front door. Dumb-dumb. Did the guy really expect to be invited in for a cappuccino? When he rapped again, The Shepherd shook his head. The cop’s gaze moved to the car parked in the drive beside the house, recognition kicking in. He squinted at it a moment then swung back to stare at the door; so focused, he never heard death approach from behind.
The Shepherd’s fingers tightened on the Sig Sauer P226 equipped with a sound suppressor. The cop swiveled too late, the muzzle pressed tightly against his temple before he could make a move.
“Raise your hands and drop your weapon.”
The cop did as he was told.
“Nice try, Sergeant, but I can’t oblige you today.” Leaning in, he hissed in his visitor’s ear. “No, the Lord still has plenty of work for me to do.”
The Shepherd fired two quick rounds into the cop’s back, and then cursed himself. He should’ve made him walk to his car first. The SOB weighed a ton. As he dragged him through the underbrush, he checked his sight lines. Everything looked good. No nosey neighbors to contend with at this late hour.
Reaching the cop’s beat-up ride, he popped the trunk and heaved the body inside. A clear plastic bag lay tucked in a corner. His hospital scrubs, glasses and ID.
Yes! All wrapped up nice and neat. No evidence lying around for Sauvage to find.
He started the engine and put the pedal down, roaring away from his hideout, eventually parking on a side road near the edge of town. He left the keys in the ignition and jogged five kilometers along the water’s edge, back to his wreck of a beach house. He couldn’t be late for work today.
Breeana had to die.
****
“You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet,” Breeana teased as she wandered back into the bedroom. Fresh out of the shower, she couldn’t help but stare.
Sully still sprawled in the middle of her bed. His rock-hard body drew her gaze. Even his bed-head endeared him to her. God, she had it bad for the man, but she couldn’t satisfy her cravings for him again until her son was safely home. It wouldn’t be right; would it?
Sully wanted her. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. His manhood bulged in the front of his boxers. She knew from experience he had the equipment of a stallion. He also knew how to use it. She longed to touch him. Taste him. She fought the sexual pull, swallowed, and almost choked on her saliva. Then she blurted the first words popping into her head. “Do you want to go for a run?”
He rolled out of bed and drew her into his arms. “Jogging isn’t the first thing that comes to mind, but I suppose it will have to do. But, let’s wait until the sun comes up…we’ll trip over ourselves in the dark.”
“What?” She peeked through the slats on the bedroom window, surprised to see it was still dark outside. Her resolve to abstain from sex vanished the instant his arms banded her. “Maybe we do have time for a quick nap.”
“Did you say quick?” Sully ran his hands under her T-shirt. He sighed, his fingers blazing a trail along the sides of her breasts. “There is absolutely nothing quick about what I’m going to do to you.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
Breeana stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips slanted over hers and she surrendered. Easing her onto the bed, he followed her down. Covering her with his hard-muscled leanness, he balanced his weight on his elbows and pulled her T-shirt and bra above her head. Her arms twisted within the folds, imprisoning her in cotton handcuffs as he suckled her nipples to taut, sensitized buds.
“You are so incredibly beautiful.” His eyes raised and held hers for an instant, burning desire evident in his gaze. “Live in the moment for both of us. I need you, Bree.”
Breeana moaned as she allowed his claim on her body. His gifted hands caressed her breasts, his mouth laving her nipples. She writhed with want as he slowly, expertly tasted and explored, stimulating every nerve ending she possessed. Just as her body arched toward release—on the precipice of climax—he stopped.
He stripped out of his boxers, suited up in a condom he took from her nightstand, and smoothed a roughened palm over her rib cage. “Let’s not rush things. I have all the time in the world to take you to heaven.”
Breeana felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I can’t move my arms because they’re caught in the T-shirt. And you can’t get gratification if I don’t…give back.” She tried unsuccessfully to squirm from his embrace.
Sully lifted his head on a groan, his gaze boring into hers. “Watching you is what I want right now. It’s a powerful turn-on for a man to pleasure his woman.”
His woman. A slip of the tongue, or did he really mean it?
He slid her shorts and panties past her hips, down her legs, and tossed them to the floor. Licking her belly, he planted a kiss there. “You know, you take my breath away.”
With those words, he rolled off her and released the T-shirt and bra from her wrists, scooped her up in his arms, and wrapped her trembling legs around his waist. Breeana felt weak with pleasure and yet impatient for more. His lovemaking was explosive. She couldn’t get enough.
The scent of their sexually charged bodies rose and fueled their passion. His lips slid up her neck to capture an earlobe between his teeth. She dragged his mouth back to her own. Their breath caught and mingled. She kissed him senseless, feeling the heat, knowing she was on fire for him.
Breeana throbbed with the need to be one with him. Sully smiled, gripped her bottom, and carried her through to the bathroom while whispering in her ear, telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her with words she could never repeat. The coarse hair on his chest rubbed sensuously against her breasts.
One flick of his wrist and the shower jets pulsed warmly against her back. He slipped inside her and held her in position, her legs riding his hips. The words he breathed into her mouth were potent with promise. “Hold tight, cookie. I’m going to take you places you’ve never been before.”
G-spot city. Sully was a
man of his word.
Breeana couldn’t say for certain what surprised her more. The best sexual experience of her life—or the realization she was incredibly head-over-heels in love with this man. As they clung in the afterglow of lovemaking, his heart played a powerful crescendo against her ear, an answering rhythm echoing in her own chest. The barriers surrounding Sully’s heart seemed to crack a little bit more as he gave her another glimpse of the gentleness beneath his gruff exterior.
It was in his touch as he smoothed the hair off her face and kissed the tender spot beneath her ear. In his gaze as it flicked over her in a possessive sweep that said mine…all mine.
He didn’t have to say anything. Some men couldn’t express how they felt, and Breeana sensed Sully fell into the category. Yet, when he made love to her, it was more than the joining of their bodies in a dance as old as time. It was a melding of kindred spirits who had somehow managed to find each other in spite of gruesome circumstances. When he held her, as he did now, there was no need for awkward conversation.
He loved her.
****
“What do you mean you forgot to tell me you saw Ben Prewitt at the hospital the other night?” Sully ran an exasperated hand through his hair and arched an eyebrow at her. “Seeing someone flee a crime scene isn’t something you neglect to mention to the officer-in-charge.”
“Oh, come on, Sully. Everything happened so fast, I just forgot about it. Okay? Do you have to make a federal case out of it?”
“Would it make a difference if I did?” He picked up the basket containing croissants, fruit, and cheese, and then strode out the door to the sundeck.
Pouring coffee into mugs, Breeana added spoons, the creamer and a bowl of sugar to a tray and carried it out behind him. Hawke and Theo leaned against the deck railing watching the sunrise, a brilliant orange ball hovering just beyond the beach. Breeana thought she might enjoy the view if she wasn’t so frustrated by Sully’s attitude and all his pacing.
Damn. How can he make love to me so thoroughly one minute, as if I’m the most precious person in his universe, and yell at me in the next?
She placed the tray on the picnic table, snagged a cup for herself along with a plate of fruit and cheese, and moved to the far end of the deck. “Anyway, Ben couldn’t have hurt Cody. Trust me, he isn’t The Shepherd.”
“Whoa,” Theo mumbled under his breath, sending a grimace Hawke’s way. “Breeana, I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead.”
“And why isn’t Prewitt The Shepherd?” Sully scowled into his coffee mug, taking a swig of the hot brew while he continued to pace. “Is it because you feel it in your bones? Or did you consult the Ouija board? Tell me, Bree…what proof do you have?”
“I don’t need proof to know what I feel. Okay, fine,” she shot back. “Waste your time checking out a guy who could no more hurt my son than have a sex change and dance around in a hot pink tutu!”
Hawke pointed in her direction with his mug. “Sully, there’s no reason to get bent out of shape with Breeana about it. There was a lot going on that night for all of us.”
“You said it.” Theo heaped a plate with buttered croissants and jam then eased his big frame onto a chair. “It’s understandable Breeana forgot about seeing the coach, considering what happened to Cody.”
“I get the message, guys—loud and clear. You can both quit defending her.” Sully plunked his mug on the deck rail, its contents splashing over the sides. He extended an arm and pulled her against him, an almost smile quirking his lips. “Call me crazy, Bree, but I’m still going to interrogate Prewitt and check out his alibi for the times in question, just in case your hotline to the ether world is way off beam.”
Breeana started to respond when Sully’s cell phone rang and he grabbed for it, effectively ending their conversation. It wasn’t long before he broke the call and snagged his jacket from the back of a lawn chair. “Unfucking believable. Clemente just told me Sergeant Millette was found stuffed in the trunk of his car. He’s been shot. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”
“How the hell did it happen? Did he bust in on a drug deal, maybe get caught in a turf war?”
“Not in this town, Theo,” Sully shrugged into his jacket. “I’m guessing he went toe-to-toe with The Shepherd. It’s the only case he’s working on. The fool must have held back information. Shit! I’m heading over to Millette’s crib now. It’s possible he has evidence stashed somewhere.”
He nailed Breeana with a concerned glance. “You stay close to Theo and Hawke today. I mean it, cookie.”
She was so unnerved after hearing about the assault on Sergeant Millette it took her a few seconds to respond. She placed her mug on the picnic table with shaking hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll stick to these guys like glue.”
“Make sure you do.” Sully took the stairs and crossed the grass. He climbed into his Tahoe and started the engine, rolling down the window. “Theo, Hawke, don’t let her out of your sight for one second. I don’t care if she’s in the shower; one of you had better be standing on the other side of the shower curtain with your eyes facing the door.”
“I’ll toss you for it.” Theo and Hawke called to each other as they flipped a coin and waved Sully off. He laid rubber out of the driveway.
****
“Dr. McGill?”
Breeana listened on speaker phone as she shuffled through the charts Laura handed her with the morning’s schedule. “Speaking. Can I help you?”
“It’s Jenny from the alarm company. There’s been a break-in at your residence. The police are waiting for you before they go inside. Apparently, you have dogs in the house?”
“Good Lord!”
Breeana was safe from The Shepherd as long as she stayed at the clinic. She knew Theo and Hawke guarded her every move. The waiting room was filled to capacity with patients. Everything was normal, or as normal as could be expected under the circumstances. No one could hurt her. Logically, she knew these things, yet common sense deserted her during the phone call.
She couldn’t think. What should I do? Do I go home and risk facing The Shepherd? Would Sully want me to do that? She hadn’t heard from him since he left her place this morning.
Theo stood right beside her and quickly took control of the situation. “I’m Theo Sauvage, Lieutenant Sullivan Sauvage’s brother. Contact the lieutenant immediately at homicide and advise him of the situation. I’ll be at Dr. McGill’s address within five minutes. And, advise the responding officers to send for back-up and not to enter the house until the lieutenant arrives to take command. The serial killer the police are searching for could be inside the house.”
“Theo, they can’t shoot their way inside my house,” Breeana pleaded as he disconnected the call. “The dogs could get caught in the crossfire.”
“Relax,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “My brother knows what he’s doing.”
As jumpy as a cat, Breeana paced circles in her office after Theo left to join the police at her house. If the psychopath showed, Sully would take him down. But, what if something went wrong? As much as she wanted The Shepherd caught, she couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to Sully. She was head over heels in love with him.
Shoot. When did that happen? She headed to the coffee pot, only to realize she didn’t need any more caffeine because she was jittery enough already.
Confused and scared out of her wits, she dropped into her desk chair and again poured over patient charts for the walk-in clinic, unable to grasp one word on any page.
Calm down! Sully will call me when it’s over. He’ll be fine.
Chapter Fifteen
Sully pulled up behind Sal in Millette’s driveway. After locking the Tahoe, he eyeballed the house, a no-frills bungalow with gray aluminum siding, white trim, and a fallen down front porch. “I guess Millette isn’t into carpentry.”
“He’s not much for gardening either, unless crabgrass is the new thing.” Clemente stepped lightly up the sagging steps, flipped the
doormat aside to find a key beneath. “See, what’d I tell you, Loot? Every cop I know hides a key under the mat for emergencies.”
“Then you must know a lot of dumbass cops.” Sully pulled on rubber gloves, used the key, and turned the door handle. No beeps. No alarm system. He entered the living room. Dust balls clung to orange shag carpeting. Brown beanbag furniture and a vinyl recliner, circa 1960s, completed the nightmarish decor. Pizza boxes and empty beer cans littered the coffee table. “Looks like Jacques kept to himself. Didn’t do much entertaining.”
“Yeah, welcome to the man cave.” Sal toed an overflowing ashtray aside as they moved forward to a central hallway. “What are we looking for?”
“Evidence on The Shepherd. It could be anywhere.”
“Man, I’m really not cool right now. I mean, I know Millette’s a cop…and he’s been shot in the line of duty, but the truth is, I’m pissed about a lot of things. I never really liked the guy, Loot. I don’t trust him.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sal. I have mixed feelings about Jacques myself. The important thing is to do our jobs and find something leading us to the shooter.”
“All right. You got it.”
Clemente got started in the living room and Sully headed for the kitchen, opening the freezer. Nothing but TV dinners and a half-finished bottle of vodka. Condiments and a six-pack of beer occupied the fridge.
Is this what living for the job does to a man? Should I worry about my own state of mind? Shaking his head to clear the thought, he replaced it with a new one. Not since Breeana came into my life. She makes all the difference—makes me whole. And thank Jesus.
While he searched, Sully mulled over Sal’s words regarding Millette and thought about his own feelings. If anything, he felt too much compassion, because of the crapper Millette called home and the fact he’d been shot. Yeah, he regretted the violence against the sergeant—even if his gut said Jacques brought it on himself by holding back crucial evidence. It was the only thing that made any damn sense. Hell, if he’d known who The Shepherd was and kept the information to himself, it was obstruction of justice.