by Jamie Hill
"Hey." She ruffled his hair and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Hello there, gorgeous." He set his work aside, reached up and pulled her onto his lap. "Have a nice nap?"
She fought a yawn. "Did I nap? I have no idea what time it is."
He chuckled. "It's nearly seven. You slept a few hours, which is good, considering we got very little sleep last night."
She snuggled into his chest. It's all coming back to me now. They'd stayed in bed all Saturday afternoon and most of the evening. Warmed over veal parmesan hit the spot at eight p.m., with another break for wine and chocolate cake somewhere around midnight. Other than that, it'd been pretty much nonstop hanky-panky until the sun came up and they both caught a couple hours sleep.
"What are you doing?" A rhetorical question. She knew very well what he was doing, but she loved to hear the sound of his voice.
"Well, for a while I laid there and watched you sleep. That was incredible. But it made me want you again, so for your well-being, I decided I should get up and look at something that didn't make me horny."
She gazed at the photos of the dead bodies and turned away quickly. "Glad to hear that. Anything new come to you?"
"Not yet. Something's niggling at my subconscious, though. So close that I should be able to reach out and grab it."
"It'll get there. Maybe you need to take your mind off it for a while."
He chuckled. "My mind's been off it for a long while. Decided I better spend some time on it before we go in tomorrow."
"Don't remind me." She cupped his chin and turned his face to hers for a kiss. His rough beard scraped her skin but she didn't care. She couldn't get enough of him.
Tongues batted back and forth for dominance before happily meeting somewhere in the middle. Mel ground her bottom into his crotch, hoping to get him worked up again.
He pulled away, an apologetic look in his eyes. "Hey there, baby girl. I need to focus my attention on this for a bit. Then I promise, I'm yours for the rest of the night."
"I can help you go over this stuff."
Nate grinned. "Yeah … no. When you're near me all I want to think about is you. I just need some time to myself her for a bit."
She kissed him once more and sighed as she stood. "The bloom is off the rose. Guess I'll head into the kitchen and make us something to eat."
He chuckled, but his attention was already on the photos.
She stood in the doorway and watched him for several minutes. His intensity amazed her, and not just in bed. In everything he did. Her heart felt so full, yet in some ways she'd never been more terrified. Five days. He'd arrived on Friday. This is Sunday. Three more days. The sudden thought chilled and her heart skipped a beat.
She heated a chicken casserole and fixed two plates so they could eat on the sofa. She suspected he wouldn't stop working to eat, and she was right. He thanked her for fixing the dish, and seemed to enjoy it, but he never stopped pouring over the reports and photos.
As Mel cleaned up she envisioned a weekend far in the future. Nate immersed in the latest FBI case files, while she puttered around the house looking for something to do. What kind of a life would that be? Once again watching him from the doorway, she answered her own question. A wonderful life.
* * * *
The alarm woke her early in the morning, but as she slapped at it she realized it wasn't ceasing. Phone. She rolled up and grabbed her cell phone, pushing the talk button. "Curtis."
Nate's cell likewise sounded on the other nightstand. Fumbling for it, he mumbled, "Willis."
Mel focused on her caller. "Curtis, it's Reeder. We've got another body. This one's roommate found her, so we already have a positive I.D. You need to meet Stone at the scene. I'll send the coordinates to your cell GPS."
"Sure thing Captain. Be right there." She punched her off button at the same time as Nate did his.
Their eyes caught. "We've got another one," they said in unison. She scrambled from her side of the bed and he rolled out of his. With a quick nod to each other, they started sorting clothes.
Chapter Five
Mel drove to the Oldtown location Reeder sent to her phone, while keeping an eye on her rearview mirror to make sure Nate followed. She parked between Stone's Volt and a black and white cop car which cordoned off the alley. The FBI loaner pulled in just behind her.
She passed the two officers standing guard and raised a thumb toward Nate. "Morning guys. He's with me."
"Morning Detective," one of them replied.
She stepped over the crime scene tape and headed to the body. About halfway there, Nate caught up.
"You're a real go-getter this morning. About lost you a couple times."
She glanced at him sideways but kept walking. "I'd never let that happen. Had my eyes on you all the way."
"I know the feeling," Nate muttered. "So now it's time to set that aside and focus."
"You don't have to tell me that."
He started to reply but they arrived at the body, a bleached blonde woman approximately fifty, posed in the same manner as before.
"What do we have, Stone?" Mel asked.
"Sissy Warsaw, lived in this building right here." He motioned to the run-down high-rise behind them. "Her roommate was leaving for work when she discovered the body. Both women work as waitresses at Daily Joe, three blocks over. Sissy worked the late shift, and never came home."
"Was that unusual?" Nate asked.
Stone shrugged. "Roommate didn't know. She fell asleep watching TV in her room around nine. Got all defensive when I asked if she realized Sissy hadn't come home. Said it wasn't her job to keep track of her. Then she broke down in tears, and said maybe it should have been."
Nate glanced at the dark-haired woman in a waitress uniform standing off to the side with another uniformed officer. "I'm going to talk to her. Name?"
Stone glanced at his notes. "Juanita Richards."
Nate nodded and walked over.
Mel watched him flash his badge and begin speaking with the obviously distraught woman.
Stone pulled out his camera but stood looking at Mel. "So, how was your weekend?"
"Typical. Slept a lot. Same old, same old."
"What did Agent Serious do all weekend?"
She threw up her hands. "How would I know? Probably stared at the crime scene photos and reports until he turned blue in the face."
He smiled and began snapping photos. "Yeah, probably. So this one isn't a prostitute. Everything else matches the MO."
Out of the corner of her eye, Mel saw Juanita Richards being comforted by a new arrival. They said a few more words to Nate, then the older black woman whisked Juanita to her car and away.
Nate paused long enough to make a phone call before joining them again.
Mel leaned down to scrutinize the cheerleading uniform. Through the deep crimson blood she spotted the small cardinal patch. "What is it with this guy and cardinals?"
"Following our theory from the other day, if the perp was scorned by cheerleaders in high school, maybe their mascot was a cardinal."
"Or maybe those are the only uniforms he had access to," Nate offered as he approached.
From her crouched position, Mel looked up at him. "You really think it's that random? I thought you people believed that every detail has meaning."
He touched his chest. "You people? If I was black, I'd be really offended right now."
She stood and brushed alley dust off the sides of her slacks. "If you were black I wouldn't have said it. No, I was referring to a more injurious race. FBI agents." She screwed up her face as if she'd mentioned something disgusting.
His eyes danced but he didn't crack a smile. "Not much more injurious than pain-in-the-ass cops. Are you going to question everything I say today, or only the really profound comments?"
Mel shrugged. "We'll see. Now if I recall, you were going to ask your 'crackerjack analysts' to research cardinal mascots from the seventies. Any word on that?"
"As a mat
ter of fact, yes. We'll discuss all their findings when we get back to the war room."
Glancing around the alley, Mel spotted Martin and Zybowski approaching. "CSI is here."
"Great," Stone muttered and hurriedly snapped a few more photos.
"Stone!" Zybowski called from halfway across the alley. "Still jockeying for a position on our team? Give it up, man. You have to be at least this tall to go on this ride." He raised his hand to chest height.
"Son-of-a-bitch," Mel whispered.
Nate frowned. "Take as many pictures as you can in the next couple minutes, Henry, then call it good. We'll get more from your shots now than we will from theirs in four or five hours." He looked at Mel. "I'll handle these guys."
She raised her eyebrows and nodded, interested to see what he was going to do.
Nate met the two men a few feet away. "CSI? I'm SSA Willis of the FBI. I presume you heard we were invited in on the case."
"Agent Willis, good to know you." Martin, looking dutifully impressed, extended a hand. "Investigator Aaron Martin."
"Joe Zybowski." He also extended his hand and Nate shook it.
"It's a real honor to meet you both. I've heard great things about you. The work you've done on this case has been top-notch."
"Well, thanks." Zybowski appeared surprised.
"Oh yeah." Nate grinned and shook his head. "Once this case is solved, I wouldn't be surprised to hear the Bureau has snatched you up. We're always in the market for a few good men."
"Really?" Martin straightened his tie. "This has been a gruesome one, but we're doing all we can to help you out."
"And we do appreciate it." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "A word to the wise. Be nice to Stone over there. When the job offers are handed out, he might be running the new team we're putting together. If you guys want in on it, you could very well be working for him."
Both men blinked in surprise.
Nate closed his eyes and gave a deep nod.
"Yeah, well, thanks." Martin glanced at Stone.
"We'd better get to work." Zybowski headed toward the body. "Hey Curtis. How's it going Stone? Anything special you want us to focus in on this one?"
Stone slipped his camera into his pocket. "Just the usual. Thanks, boys." He turned and walked away.
Mel added, "Any chance we can get your findings tout suite?"
"Absolutely. We'll get them to you as soon as possible," Martin said cooperatively.
She smiled and repeated Stone's words. "Thanks, boys." With a sharp glance at Nate, she turned and followed her partner.
"See you soon," Nate told the CSI team, and caught up to Mel.
She and Stone were barely holding back their laughter.
"What team would that be?" Stone whispered.
"The chess team?" Mel offered.
"Maybe," Nate chuckled. "Just giving them something to think about. You know, when the Bureau is invited in on a case, we have to be careful not to step on any local toes. Sometimes that's tougher than others. When I run into people like those two, I'd really love to put them in their place."
Mel smirked. "In lieu of that, you lie to them."
"Whatever." Nate glanced over his shoulder. "Guys like that suck. Can't stand to be around them."
Henry offered Nate a small salute. "That makes three of us. See you at the station." He climbed into his Volt and drove away.
Mel walked Nate to his car. "You know, I could kiss you right about now, but that wouldn't be the prudent thing to do."
He smiled. "Prudent, no. Sexy as hell, yeah. Can I take a rain check? Maybe later tonight?"
"Count on it. Follow me to the cop shop?"
"I'm going to stop for coffees. I'll make my way there." He slid into his vehicle.
She batted her eyes. "Stone and I drink lattes if anyone is asking."
He bowed his head. "Lattes it is. See you in a few."
She watched him drive off in the completely wrong direction and had to smile. Hope he finds his way back. She was starting to hope a lot of things where Nathan Willis was concerned, but she refused to let herself think about them. Work first. Mel sighed, and pulled out onto the street.
At the department, Stone was uploading photos to his computer when she arrived. She'd barely gotten in the door when Reeder summoned her. She entered his office and he let loose.
"Another dead hooker?" His voice boomed.
Mel shook her head. "This one's a waitress. Rest of the details are the same."
His face reddened and he shook as he spoke. "We have some hot shot from the FBI here and this happens right under his nose? What was he doing? What were you doing all weekend? I thought I authorized overtime for you and your team. Instead I hear you all went out drinking Friday night."
She tried to determine if Reeder knew any more about her and Nate. She really didn't think he did. He was just frustrated with the responsibility of the case falling on his shoulders. "It was the usual Friday night crowd at Morgan's, Captain. Someone invited Agent Willis along to be polite. We worked Saturday, but no one can work 24/7. The team needed a break. Willis took the case files with him to study over the weekend. We have several theories to check out today."
The explanation didn't calm his demeanor. Spittle flew as he shouted, "I'm sure our latest victim understands that your team needed a break. I hope you're all well-rested. We need to put a lid on this thing, now."
"I agree. With your permission, I'd like to call in Brady Marshall from Special Investigations. Willis thinks he might be able to offer some insight."
Reeder waved a hand and stomped back to his chair. "Marshall's on his way. Find this guy, damn it, Curtis. Pressure's coming down from all sides. The media is going nuts. We don't want another BTK on our hands. The shit from that one went national."
"Yes sir." She knew Reeder was one of the few cops left in the department who'd been around when the self-proclaimed 'Bind, Torture and Kill' nutcase started his spree in the seventies. Her father was on the job then as well. Most of the current force remembered the media feeding frenzy when Dennis Rader reappeared a few years ago and was eventually apprehended. No one, especially Mel, wanted a replay of that ugly scenario.
Reeder washed back a couple of aspirin with a swig of coffee and grimaced. He shook a handful of antacids into his palm and popped them one at a time. "I mean it, Curtis," he mumbled as he chewed. "Your ass is grass if we don't see some results on this thing soon. Don't make me reconsider your detective status."
"No sir. I mean, yes sir." She retreated from the office and noticed everyone in the bullpen watching her. Their captain's shouting rarely went unnoticed. Mel felt her face heat and knew it'd flushed a deep shade of red. She hoped to slip into the ladies room and take a minute to compose herself before Nate arrived. She took a few steps, spun around and nearly ran him over.
"Hey." He held a four-cup drink carrier with a fifth steaming cup sticking up in the middle.
She tried to deflect his sympathetic gaze. "If one of those is for Reeder, this might not be the best time."
"I heard. Sorry he did that, Mel. If he's pissed at me he should take it out on me. As you can imagine, that rarely happens."
She shook her head. "It's my case, but he's the one catching the shit at the moment." She felt tears threaten which totally pissed her off. She sniffed and looked at the coffee again. "Last time I counted we had four on our team."
Nate started to reply when someone entered the room.
"Greetings, homicide peeps." Brady Marshall knocked knuckles with Stone and a few others as he passed them. He got almost to Mel when he paused and grinned. "As I live and breathe, is that Melanie Curtis with blonde hair?"
"Light brown," she corrected, and let him envelop her in a bear hug. "And shut up about it. It's not that different."
Brady chuckled as he hugged her. "It's totally different, and I like it. You still got it, Black Widow."
Her tears were free-flowing now, and she hated to leave his comforting grasp. She drew
back and immediately turned her face away. "And you're still full of shit you big dummy. You better have baby pictures on you. I need to use the john. I'll be right back. Willis, introduce yourself." She couldn't get away fast enough.
* * * *
Nate watched Mel run off and his gut clenched. It hurt like hell that he couldn't go after her. He'd seen the tight grip she'd had on the tall, good-looking man just moments before. I want to be the one holding her, comforting her. Somehow, he'd find a way to make it up to her.
He turned his attention to the newcomer who was obviously Brady Marshall. About his height with a similar frame size, Nate couldn't help but wonder if Marshall and Mel ever had a relationship. A niggling thought in his mind reminded him of the work at hand and Nate forced himself to focus. "Marshall? I'm Nate Willis with the FBI. We spoke on the phone earlier."
Marshall started to extend a hand to shake then obviously realized Nate's hands were full. He smiled. "I'm Brady Marshall. Good to meet you."
Nate nodded toward the war room. "Let's go in here." He raised his voice and called, "Stone, bring the latest photos when you get them please."
"Right behind you," Stone replied.
Nate entered the small room and flipped the light switch with his elbow. He set the drink carrier on the table and removed the coffees one at a time. "Hope a latte is okay. Mel insisted."
Marshall chuckled. "A latte is fine, thanks. Speaking of Mel, what's up with her? She looked upset."
Stone joined them, tacking one photo of Sissy Warsaw on the bulletin board and setting others on the table. He reached for one of the cups and punched the drink spout. "Captain Tactful just reamed her ass in front of the whole department. Threatened her rank if he didn't see some results on this case very soon."
Marshall picked up a cup and shook his head. "Reeder's a dick. He was a dick back in the days when Jack still worked here, and apparently nothing's changed."
Nate sipped his drink. "Who's Jack?"
"Former cop buddy of mine. Worked in homicide for ages—how many years, Stone?"