by Honor Bound
“Chief, Aaron Rolston is here,” said Detective Lasko, shortly after three that afternoon. “He wants to talk to you. You don’t suppose he came to confess to everything?”
“I doubt it. Show him in.” Ben stood and shook hands with the man who walked into his office. “Have a seat, Mr. Rolston. How can I help you?”
Aaron Rolston sat on the edge of the chair and twisted a worn baseball cap in his fingers. “You probably know I was one of the strike organizers against H. Bryant Industries.”
“Yes.” Ben didn’t say anything else, though he recalled the description of Rolston’s circumstances—father of a disabled three-year-old son, his wife worked for minimum wage at a fast-food restaurant and the family faced enough medical bills to choke a pig.
“We weren’t asking for the moon,” Rolston said bitterly, looking careworn and older than his years. “Health benefits for our families, equitable pay, safe working conditions—what was so unreasonable? Bryant’s profit margin is huge. He wasn’t going out of business for what we wanted, and he still would have made plenty.”
Ben didn’t comment, but he sympathized. The police department had questioned dozens of Harvey Bryant’s workers and their families. Harsh feelings ran against the man, with his employees believing he’d deliberately provoked them into striking with demands for massive pay cuts, and then bringing in scabs to cross the picket lines. The evidence indicated they were correct.
“Anyway, out of the blue Mrs. Bryant has raised our pay and is offering extended health insurance to fulltime employees,” Rolston continued, though he didn’t appear particularly cheerful about the news. “We…well, we think she might be scared and that’s why she’s doing it.”
“Why do you think that?”
Rolston clenched his fists and rested them on his thighs. “We’re not fools. We hear the talk and we’ve all been questioned about the murders—you figure one of us killed her husband because of how the strike turned out. But I swear, no matter how much we didn’t like Mr. Bryant, we didn’t kill him. And we wouldn’t hurt or intimidate Mrs. Bryant. We’ve got families, too.”
“We’re investigating, but we haven’t come to any conclusions,” Ben said, keeping a close watch on the other man. It wasn’t wise to forget that normally law-abiding citizens could snap without warning. “Checking every avenue is our job as law enforcement officers.”
Rolston drew several rapids breaths, obviously stressed to the point of breaking. “God knows my family needs those benefits, but how can we take them if Mrs. Bryant is doing it because she’s afraid someone will hurt her or her kids?”
Ben frowned. He’d always assumed the worst of people, but Kelly had shaken his assumptions. And now this desperate husband and father seemed consumed with fundamental questions of right and wrong. It could be an act, but what would Rolston have to gain?
“Amy Bryant could have reasons that have nothing to do with the murder.”
“Maybe, but I keep thinking how my wife would feel, not knowing who killed her husband.”
“I’ll speak with Mrs. Bryant myself,” Ben said. “Meanwhile, go home, have dinner with your wife and try to get a good night’s sleep.”
“I wish I could. Susan works evenings so we don’t get much time together as a family. But she’s a great mom—she’s taught Lucas his letters and how to count to a hundred, lots of stuff. He’s awful smart, Mr. Santoni. He’s really going to be somebody when he grows up.”
“He already is. He’s your son.”
Rolston flashed Ben a genuine smile. “I read that newspaper article about you—the one they wrote when you moved here. They said you have a kid, so I guess you understand what it’s about.”
Ben hadn’t enjoyed having his personal life discussed in the Sand Point Gazette, but Aaron Rolston didn’t need to know that. “Yes. Thank you for coming in and discussing this with me. I hope everything works out,” he said.
The young man squared his shoulders. “It has to. I can’t let Susan or Lucas down. I’m lucky to have them.”
Ben thought for a long time when he was alone again. He had a satisfying job with reasonable pay and benefits. His ex-wife was cleanly out of their lives. Toby missed his mother and had some separation issues to resolve, but he was a bright, happy kid without any health challenges. And Aunt Gina and Uncle Henry more than made up for his own parents’ flaws.
Things were good, yet Ben didn’t believe Aaron Rolston, despite all his problems, would trade places with him.
BEN LOOKED UP THE BRYANTS’ address and stopped on his way home. The house was unusually lavish by Sand Point standards, but Amy Bryant answered the door herself and showed him into the living room.
“You were at Harvey’s funeral,” Amy said, folding her hands in her lap. She was a quiet woman, with pretty, vague hazel eyes and short brown hair. “I saw you there. It was thoughtful of you to attend.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Ben replied, feeling like a fraud. He’d gone to the funeral to observe the mourners, particularly Mrs. Bryant. A spouse was generally a suspect in any murder case, though his detectives didn’t think there was any special reason to believe she was complicit in her husband’s death. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” he continued, “but one of your employees visited me this afternoon.”
“Yes?”
Ben watched her closely; she barely seemed curious, much less worried. It was odd.
“He’s grateful for the increased pay and expanded family coverage, but he’s concerned the offer is based on fear or intimidation over what happened to Mr. Bryant. I assured him I would speak with you.”
After a long moment Mrs. Bryant shook her head. “That has nothing to do with my decision, Chief Santoni. It’s simply the right thing to do. Please understand, Harvey was a good husband. He was determined to take care of us—maybe too determined. I wanted him to offer better benefits to everyone years ago, but his father went bankrupt when Harvey was a boy and they had to struggle to get by. It always affected him. He wasn’t willing to risk the added expense to the business.”
“You’re certain there’s no coercion in your decision? Even a hint?”
“No. I’ve hardly left the house since…since it happened. Just to make arrangements, you know, and for the funeral. My sister is doing the shopping and taking the children to school, and my father is handling the business. Everyone has been very kind.”
“You’ll let me know if you have any worries?”
“Of course.”
“Here is my phone number.” Ben gave her a business card. “You can call the police department if you prefer.”
Amy bit her lip. “Have you learned anything about who’s…responsible? My children ask and I don’t know what to tell them.”
“Tell them we’re working on it, Mrs. Bryant. We won’t stop until we find whoever’s guilty.”
“Thank you.”
Ben wasn’t sure she believed him. He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Between the mayor’s press conferences and the media’s wild stories, it had to be hard to know who to trust.
THAT EVENING KELLY SAT on one end of the couch and watched the fire flicker. The only illumination was from the flames and the occasional flash of lightning outside the house. Ben was deep in thought and she swallowed a stab of disappointment. She’d spent the afternoon gearing herself up for a sensual onslaught, and he hardly seemed aware of her presence.
“We’re a moody pair,” she said finally. “What turned your day around?”
“I’m not moody.” Ben grinned from the opposite end of the couch. “I’m just working things out in my head.”
“About the case?”
“Yup. Nothing new. We haven’t found anybody who wanted Simon dead, while half the town had a motive to bump off Harvey Bryant.”
“Murder is a drastic way of resolving differences.”
“And final, too.” Ben stretched. “I spoke to his wife earlier. I think she might be on tranquilizers. Her reactions were delayed, as if
she had to mentally catch up with what I was saying.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Kelly swung her feet onto the couch and Ben grabbed her ankle. “Hey,” she said, not really minding. Wasn’t that why she’d put her legs up, as an invitation to touch her? Maybe he’d learned subtlety since they were kids, and was waiting for the invitation.
“I want to see how your wounded toe is healing.”
“It’s much better.”
“That’s good.”
He removed her sock and began massaging her foot. She gazed at him in the faint light, his face intent as he rubbed her instep. His fingers made seductive forays up her leg and Kelly’s pulse quickened. She had to decide. It wasn’t fair to Ben to let things go too far and have to stop him.
He was still a police officer.
She still didn’t want the hazard of falling in love. But once…just once, she wanted to act on instinct, and there was no point to being coy.
Kelly pulled free and crawled to his side of the couch.
“It’s warm in here,” she said, popping the buttons on his shirt. She splayed her hands on his chest.
Ben sucked in his breath and she smiled, fascinated by the contrast of her pale skin against his natural bronze.
“I thought you didn’t want to rush into anything,” he muttered harshly.
“I gave it a few days.”
“Are you sure that’s long enough?”
She wasn’t sure of anything except that she wanted him. Life was full of risks. She could take a small one.
“Yes. Do you have protection? And I don’t mean your gun,” she whispered, flicking her tongue to the base of his throat. The tangy scent of citrus and mint filled her senses. Had he showered and shaved, thinking this might happen? She no longer cared. “In my…wallet.”
Kelly straddled Ben’s thighs as she moved her hands around his waist and felt for a bulge in his back pocket.
A low groan resonated through him as she wriggled deliberately, freeing the wallet. The leather was worn and she fished out a square foil packet, then a second. She tossed his wallet to the floor.
“We’ll be in the bedroom,” she said, waving the packets between her fingers. She slid from Ben’s lap and headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BEN DRAGGED AIR INTO HIS lungs as if he’d just run a mile.
The curve of Kelly’s lips, the seductive sway of her hips… She’d neatly taken the lead away from him. It was more exciting than he would have believed.
He slung his holster over his shoulder and followed her up the staircase. Frodo was sitting at the top, looking at him disapprovingly.
“Beat it, cat.”
Frodo yawned.
“I have a gun.”
Unconcerned, the enormous feline lifted a paw and licked it. His claws flexed and Ben grinned. He’d never lived with a cat, but he could see the appeal.
“Yeah, I know. You have weapons, too.” Since Frodo didn’t appear inclined to move, Ben stepped over him, dodging a well-aimed swat from a set of the weapons in question. The hall was dark except for a single doorway.
The only details that registered inside were the bed and Kelly sitting on the edge, her gold hair tumbling everywhere. She’d discarded her jeans and the tails of her shirt hung over her hips, revealing a tempting expanse of smooth thigh.
“Conversing with my cat?” she asked, a half smile playing on her lips.
“He has a way of watching you that demands a response. I swear Aunt Gina is right—he considers you his property.”
“And you’re trespassing.”
Standing, she dropped the condoms on the bedside table and drew her shirt off in a single sweep. Her bra disappeared with equal grace, and if Ben had trouble breathing before, now it was virtually impossible. Her body was painted with light and shadow that both revealed and tantalized.
For an instant he was eighteen again, afraid to touch perfection…and unable to resist.
“Stop thinking so much,” she whispered. “Isn’t that supposed to be my problem?”
Ben was barely capable of standing, much less coherent thought. Did she know what she was doing to him? Kelly closed the distance between them and kissed his mouth.
Well, hell. She knew.
His fingers slid over her bare bottom and with the slightest pressure she leaned into him. The curves he’d learned so well as a randy teenager were even sweeter, and Kelly moaned as the crowns of her breasts brushed his chest.
Ben swung her into his arms and onto the bed. Something clunked clumsily against the side of the bed…damned if he hadn’t forgotten about his shoulder holster. He slid it to the floor where he could get to the gun if needed, keeping his gaze fixed on Kelly.
The way she’d coaxed him to the bedroom said she didn’t need seducing, she needed it hot. Mindless. It would be his pleasure to oblige.
KELLY DIDN’T QUESTION whether she was doing the right thing. She did think too much. For one night she was going to act on feelings, without worrying about the future. She wasn’t like her mother; she wasn’t expecting a declaration of undying love and a promise of lifetime fidelity.
That wasn’t what she wanted.
She just wanted…this. A hiss escaped as Ben traced her breast with his tongue and drew the peak into his mouth.
His hands were everywhere, and so were hers. She popped the snap on his jeans and eased the zipper down so slowly he lost patience and moved away long enough to yank the denim from his legs and shirt from his shoulders. A dull thud sounded as he threw them across the room.
She explored every hard inch of him, lingering where he showed the most reaction, losing focus when he found her most sensitive parts.
When she was sure she couldn’t take another minute Ben rolled on the condom, then pushed deep inside her. It had been so long…her body instinctively resisted.
Ben stilled.
“Kelly?”
“It’s…all right.”
The brief, surprising tension eased as she willed herself to relax, only to have it rise in a different way. Ben held her hips and began moving, long waves and ebbs of movement that sent her spinning toward climax. Her release came seconds before his, and she barely heard his rough cry over the sound of the blood pounding in her ears.
Afterward he pulled her close, stroking and soothing away the shudders gripping her.
Yet her last thought before falling asleep was that she hoped Ben didn’t want to talk about what this meant.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
Maybe he’d just want to pretend it hadn’t happened.
THE NEXT MORNING BEN WOKE more content than he’d felt in years…or possibly ever. Sleepily he reached out an arm and yelped as he encountered fur instead of Kelly’s silky skin.
Frodo glared malevolently from the other side of the bed.
“She does not belong to you. Get over it.”
Once Ben wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to a cat, but he’d heard Kelly talk to Frodo as if he were human, and the animal did convey a distinct intelligence. At the moment, Frodo was unmistakably announcing that intimate intruders in his private world with Kelly were not welcome.
The cat stuck a hind leg in the air and licked the base of his tail. It was an inelegant posture, but he didn’t seem concerned—his position in the household was secure. Ben wasn’t so certain about his own, either what it was, or what he wanted it to be.
“Kelly?” he called.
The house was silent, and something told him it was empty, as well. His wallet lay on the table and he picked it up, nerves tightening with the memory of Kelly fishing it from his pocket and pulling out the condoms. If he’d found her in bed he would have hoped to put the second one to use—he found, though, she’d returned it to its original place.
Curious.
There was a message in that if he knew how to decipher it. Ben frowned as Frodo cleaned between his toes. Come to think of it, he hoped those condoms hadn’t expired. His life as a divorced fat
her wasn’t the most socially active.
Apparently Kelly hadn’t been socially active, either, at least not in a way that required birth control.
Ben stretched, trying to make himself more alert. Kelly was a passionate, sensual woman, but he’d bet money she hadn’t slept with a man since her husband’s death. Yet it couldn’t be for lack of opportunity—she was too attractive for that.
His gut twisted.
Celibacy suggested a devotion to Mitch’s memory that went beyond anything Ben had been willing to acknowledge. He gazed around the large bedroom. A sweeping view of the ocean dominated the west-facing picture windows, the colors were grays and steel blues and the furniture was natural wood. But the decor didn’t interest him…it was the photographs. There were just two on a high dresser.
Ben got up. The first was a recent shot of Uncle Henry and Aunt Gina and the other was a wedding photo, a group pose with Kelly and Mitch Lawson in the middle.
The sight of Kelly as a bride shook Ben. God, she was beautiful, yet a hint of sadness darkened her blue eyes. Or was it his imagination? What could have made her sad on a day like that?
As for Mitch, he looked as proud as a man could look.
Ben’s own wedding picture, presently residing in an L.A. landfill, had been taken in a chapel in Las Vegas.
He and Dawn had gone to Nevada for a getaway weekend, celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday and promotion to detective. Getting married had seemed a good idea at the time; it was too bad he hadn’t thought it through a little better, and after a little less tequila.
For the rest of the day, the contrasting scenes played through Ben’s mind—a tequila-laced ceremony with neon lights, and a white wedding with family. His imagination painted his own face over Mitch Lawson’s…younger, probably scared, and just as proud. Only the bride in the white satin dress wasn’t Dawn, it was Kelly.
Fifteen years ago he’d hardly believed in anything, much less eternal love. He had seen his aunt and uncle’s happy marriage as an aberration. Couples might stay married for life, but mostly for reasons that had nothing to do with the heart. Now he didn’t know what he believed, and things were more confused than ever since he and Kelly had made love—how would she act when he returned to the house?