“Yeah? Why don’t you come to my place and I’ll make you dinner?”
Digging both hands into my ass, he lifts an eyebrow. “You cook and bake?”
“I can also grill a mean steak,” I whisper, tossing in a wink for fun. “But keep that between us.”
He groans and dips his head to my neck, taking a playful nip. “Be careful, princess, or I might request you feed me on the regular.”
“I’m sure we could strike a deal. You know, I feed you, you fuck me . . .”
Trent pulls away, laughing. “Show me the footage before I find something better for us to do, princess.”
Such a tease. I’ll be sure he makes it up to me later. “Fine,” I sigh. “This might take a while anyway.”
An hour later, Trent pauses the footage from the front desk. “That’s the second time that woman was in the store. Do you know her?”
“I believe that’s Holly from the Nike store. She’s one of Tally’s friends.”
“Last name?”
“Um . . . Bergan?”
Trent scribbles down the name and then pulls up a web page. It’s a Metro PD site, but not one I’ve seen before, but that makes sense because he enters a login and some sort of database pops up.
“Should I be looking at this?” I ask, feeling like my dad’s going to walk in at any moment and bust us.
“Eh, just close your eyes. I’ll try not to cop a feel.”
I slide my chair over instead. “Just in case.”
Trent grins and then types what I presume is Holly’s name into the system. “Holly Bergen with two e’s. Petty theft less than six months ago.”
Ugh. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Actually, it is, because Tally just stuffed extra merchandise into her bag. While she watches.”
“Shit, I didn’t see that.” He rewinds the footage and, sure enough, there it is, plain as day. “I didn’t even pick up on Holly,” I explain, feeling like a putz. “I was more concerned about the couple that comes in next.”
Trent cocks an eyebrow and hits play on the laptop. The second the couple appears on the entrance monitor, he sits up a little straighter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I lean in, but he just shakes his head and keeps watching.
The couple works their way around the store, popping up sporadically on each of the cameras. The man, a tall, lanky guy, keeps fondling the new pink and black corset Jana put on a mannequin last weekend. Before long, Tally approaches and the two of them exchange a few words, though the cameras don’t pick up any sound. When he rejoins the other woman, Tally takes one of the corsets hanging on the rack back to the cash register.
“She couldn’t possibly make it any more obvious,” Trent says a few minutes later, after Tally and the man do the same thing with more elaborate pieces, at least a half dozen times.
“Who is he, do you think? I don’t recognize him at all.”
“Long story, but I’m going to guess the shit he’s taking is for his own personal use.”
“Really?” I guess you never can tell.
“Yeah, but she’s pretty interesting, too.” He nods to the woman he came in with, who keeps moving around the store, idly checking things out. Only once did I see her stuff a pair of panties into her pocket, but Trent watches her closely, his brow furrowed.
“What are you thinking?”
He leans back in the chair and scrubs a hand over his bristled jaw. “I’m thinking we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands than we anticipated.”
I don’t like the look on his face one bit. “Such as?”
Huffing out a breath, he hits a couple buttons on his phone and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dez, wake your ass up. I need you at Chloe’s Closet ASAP.”
“See? I told you she was nuts.” Arms folded across his chest, Dez shakes his head at the images on the computer screen. “I don’t know who the guy is, though. I don’t recall any dudes from last night.”
“That’s not saying much, man. All those tits in your face, I’m surprised you remember your fucking name.” I glance from my coworker to Kinsey, who’s pacing a groove in her office floor and chewing her fingernails like a goddamn beaver. “Babe, sit down. Please.”
“I knew this was bad,” she says, still traipsing back and forth. “Damn it, I should’ve had the cameras fixed sooner.”
“Babe?” Dez asks belatedly. “What the hell am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Kinsey and I say at the same time, and Dez’s eyebrows fly toward his hairline.
“Well, then,” he mutters. “Someone’s gonna get his ass chewed and, surprise, surprise, I think that someone is you, Clark.”
“Shut the fuck up and concentrate,” I snap. I know he’s not going to rat me out, so I’m not worried about it. I am, however, concerned about this lingerie stealing bastard on the screen. “Are you sure the girls didn’t have any male friends? Or maybe a friend in drag?”
“I don’t know, man. I got a weird vibe from Vanny’s friend, Crystal, but I’m positive her rack was real.”
“How positive?”
“Firm C cups positive.”
Jesus fuck. “You felt her up?”
“She offered.”
“Did she ask you to suck her dick, too?”
Dez’s face goes red and his nostrils flare. “No fucking way.”
“We’re going to have to bring Vanny and her girlfriend in. We need this guy’s name.” The sooner the better, too, because if this guy is our hotel killer, he just stocked up on new lingerie.
“What about Tally?” Kinsey asks, biting her lip nervously.
“Tally, too.” I nod. “We’re going to have to move fast, because if this guy finds out we’re looking for him, he could run. Kins, I want you to pack it up and get out of here. Just in case word gets around and he or Tally come here, pissed off.”
Her eyes go wide. “You think that might happen?”
“No, but I want you at home anyway. Where I know you’re safe.”
“Oh, God.” Panic washes over her face and I round the desk, pulling her against my chest.
“Just work on that amazing dinner you promised me,” I say into her ear, rubbing reassuring hands up and down her back. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She nods and presses a sweet kiss to my cheek. “Be safe, handsome.”
As soon as he downloads what he needs from the surveillance system, Trent walks me to my car, promising to let me know when Tally’s been brought in.
I stop by the grocery store and make a quick run through, grabbing what I need for dinner and dessert. I snag some wine and Guinness, too. I haven’t had a man in my apartment for any length of time since Ben, so I’m woefully unprepared for entertaining.
Except for clean sheets. I absolutely made sure I had those, just in case Trent’s in the mood for a sleepover after what is sure to be one hell of a day. Maybe I can talk him into a bath. Or a blow job. Or both.
God. He’s dealing with some serious crap right now and all I can think about is getting him naked. What is wrong with me?
Setting the gutter brain aside, I get home and haul my loot upstairs. I’m just unloading the wine and beer, when the buzzer sounds, which is weird as hell, because I’m never home during the day.
Thankfully, the intercom system has a camera and I highly doubt if someone—like Tally—were to show up and want to kick my ass, she wouldn’t ring my bell . . . before she rang my bell.
I hurry around to the intercom and seeing Shelby in my lobby is probably more surprising than if Tally had shown up.
“Hey, Shel, come on up.” I buzz her in and then wait by the door while she makes her way up the stairs.
“Hi, sweetie,” she says with a big smile. “I was in the neighborhood and saw your car in the lot. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped.”
“Of course not. Come in.”
Kicking off her sandals, she follows me to the kitchen in her bare feet. Her toes are done up in a hot pi
nk color that matches her lips and goes perfectly with her California blonde hair.
Physically, she’s the exact opposite of my earthy, flower child mother, who’d always worn her hair in a loose braid without out a stitch of makeup on her face. Both women are beautiful in their own way, inside and out, and my dad is one heck of a lucky guy to have found both of them.
My gut tells me that someday I’m going to look back and feel the same way about Trent. He’s unlike any other men I’ve dated, and all too easily, I can imagine my future with him.
“Oh, you were shopping.” Shelby smiles and begins helping me put things away. In my little kitchen, it’s not hard to figure out where things go. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were expecting company.”
“I am.” I’m not sure where the urge to confess comes from, but it feels right. My mom passed when I was twenty-one. I’ve never had the luxury of talking about my love life with her—at least not beyond the goofy teenage years.
Shelby’s eyes light up as she tucks the ricotta and mozzarella cheese into the fridge. “Yeah? May I ask who he is?”
Moment of truth. I know damn well she’s going to tell my dad, but I’m not sure I care. I’m not ashamed about seeing Trent, even if Trent himself isn’t as sure. He’s a good man, and I’m intent on making him believe it.
“Sergeant Clerk,” I tell Shelby. “You may have met him at the PD ball.”
Her mouth falls open, but her eyes are nothing but twinkling stars. “Kinsey Malloy, you’re dating an officer?”
I nod and slide the pasta sauce into the cupboard. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re . . . taking it slow.” More like going backwards—sex first and getting to know each other later—but I keep that to myself.
“So, you’ll bring him to the wedding, then?”
A weekend in Napa with Trent and my dad? “Um . . . maybe?”
Shelby claps her hands together with a squeal. “This is wonderful!”
“You think so?”
“Yes!” She throws her arms around me and sighs. “I want you to be as happy as your dad and I are, sweetie. You deserve someone strong and brave, and I can’t think of anyone better for you than Trent.”
“Do you think Daddy will approve? I mean, I’m not going to stop seeing Trent if he doesn’t, but . . .” I’d kind of like it if my dad didn’t disown me.
“It doesn’t matter if he approves, Kinsey.” Shelby pulls back and smiles. “Only your heart can decide who you fall in love with.”
“YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . .” I slap the cuffs around Tally Connor’s wrists, finish reciting her rights, and hand her over to Dez, who hauls her out of the apartment, right behind Gwen Martinez.
Christopher VanGaard, otherwise known as a drag call-girl Crystal Vee, lies face down on Tally’s living room floor, foaming at the mouth with rage.
“I want my fucking lawyer,” he roars, spit dripping down his chin. “I didn’t have any part in stealing that shit from the mall!”
“The mall is the least of your problems, buddy.” Will hikes the guy off the floor with a bored sigh. “We found your DNA at the scene of a murder, too. On a pair of panties.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t kill that guy, man! I was only there to party!”
“With knives and lingerie? Shit, dude . . . that sounds like a fucking circus act.”
“That’s exactly what it was!” The perp’s eyes go as round as his fake tits. “It’s what I do! It’s one of my package deals!”
Will bites his lips together and I shift my gaze to the floor, knuckling my nose. I can’t look at this guy without seeing Dez feeling him up. Lucky for Dez, Crystal doesn’t recognize him, which I’m sure Dez wishes were the case for himself, too.
“Enough chit-chat,” Will says. “You can tell me all about your packages down at the station.” Rolling his eyes, Will escorts the creep out, leaving me with Chief Deputy Marcos and Detective Rusk.
“That went hella fast,” Rusk says. “I never expected we’d find them all here.”
“We owe that to Vanessa,” I tell them both. “Though she’s not happy about ratting out her girlfriend.”
“I don’t think Purple had much to do with this mess,” Marcos says, glancing around at all the stolen loot stacked in Tally’s living room. Shoes, electronics, goddamn essential oils . . .”But that remains to be seen, I guess.”
“Ian, you want to head back to the bedroom and grab a couple more pictures of the things in the closet before we have someone come in and bag all of this?”
Detective Rusk nods and heads for the back hall.
“Definitely not how I saw this one panning out,” I say, scratching my jaw. I’m pretty sure Marcos didn’t either, or he wouldn’t have put me on the case.
“Yeah, that’s how it usually goes, though.” The older man grins. “We do live in Vegas, Sergeant.”
“True enough,” I laugh. “Thanks for the opportunity, by the way. Definitely not a case I’m likely to forget.”
“Well, I’d hope not, Sergeant. In fact, I expect you to rehash every detail next Tuesday when you meet with Transfer Committee.”
Uh, what? “Excuse me, sir?”
Marcos blinks at me. “The Transfer Committee.”
Um . . .
“The job’s probably already yours, since Captain Malloy put a good word in for you, too, but you still have to go through the channels. Protocol is protocol.”
Holy shit. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m unclear exactly what’s happening next Tuesday.”
Marcos looks at me like I’m crazy. “What do you think I’m telling you, Sergeant? Next Tuesday. Have your ass at HR for your Investigations interview. What’s so hard to understand about that?”
I can’t keep the grin from stretching across my face. I know I look like a dorky kid who just scored his first date, but that’s sort of what this feels like. “You got me an interview?”
Marcos lifts a shoulder. “Nah, Captain Malloy’s responsible for that, but you didn’t hear it from me.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I just . . . wow.
Kinsey’s dad—the cop who’s given me hell for years—went out on a limb for me. Knowing every gory, dysfunctional detail of my family history didn’t matter. He still stuck his neck out there . . . for the little boy with the plastic handcuffs.
Holy fucking shit.
Salad? Check. Lasagna? Check. Strawberry shortcake? Check.
New garters and a G-string? Check. Check.
Waving a hand in front of my face, I blow out a breath and try to calm my nerves. I’ve been sleeping with this man for weeks. He’s seen—and tasted—virtually every part of my body. Feeding him actual food should be a piece of cake, except it feels like I’m sharing my deepest, darkest fantasy with him all over again.
What if Italian isn’t his thing? What if he’s allergic to strawberries? What if one of my garter clips snap and takes out his eye?
God.
I close my eyes and pull a breath through my nose, then push it out through my mouth.
And then my buzzer rings, making my heart skyrocket all over again.
“Come on up,” I tell Trent, taking a moment to fuss with my hair in the hallway mirror before I meet him at the door.
“Pheeew,” he whistles when he hits the top of the stairs. “Look at you, all dolled up.”
“This old thing?” Batting my eyes, I flip the hem of my new dress coyly. I bought it as backup for the PD ball, so it’s probably a bit much for dinner at home, but it’s pretty and I know how much Trent likes easy access.
“You look good enough to eat.” His stubble scratches against my jaw as he dips to my neck and takes a nibble. “So does whatever you’ve cooked.”
“Just lasagna.”
“I fucking love lasagna,” he says, finally kissing me properly, while I give a mental fist pump.
“I figured you’d be starving after the day you’v
e had.”
“Eh.” He lifts both shoulders and closes the door behind us. “It actually went pretty smoothly. Vanessa told us exactly where we could find them. I think she’s officially freaked out, realizing the kind of company she’s been keeping.”
“What about Ben? Did anything turn up on him?”
Leaning in the kitchen doorway, Trent eyes me carefully. “Actually, yeah. He was at Tally’s, too. Will took him downtown for questioning.”
“Oh, my God.” My stomach suddenly whirls with . . . I don’t even know. Disgust? Shock? Embarrassment?
“What’s going through your head?”
I open and close my mouth, not entirely sure what to say. “I . . . I guess I’m kind of speechless.”
“Because you still have feelings for him or because you didn’t see it coming?”
My gaze flies back to Trent’s and the uncertainty in my gut quickly becomes an ache in my chest. “I don’t have feelings for Ben.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” I turn away, reaching into the cupboard for wine glasses when Trent sneaks up behind me, slipping his arms around my waist.
“Then why are you freaking out, princess?” His scruffy cheek presses against mine and I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy the moment before I potentially ruin it by coming clean.
Turning carefully in his arms, I lock my eyes on his. “I want us to always be honest with each other. About everything. Even if it seems trivial or silly.”
“Okay.” His brow bunches as he nods. “But where’s this coming from?”
Smoothing my fingers over his shirt, I rub away invisible lines, trying to come up with the right words. I’ve already hinted at the L-word, but talking about the future so early in our relationship is terrifying. I don’t want to scare him off with too much, too soon, but I don’t want to risk losing him by not sharing enough, either.
“I haven’t always been so open about what I want,” I admit quietly. “Or what I need.”
“I think you’ve done a pretty good job so far.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger. “Unless there’s something else.”
Bend ~ Molly McLain Page 11