Exposure Season 1 e-1

by Tonya Muir

  Gail looks me up and down when I meet her in the doorway of the office. I know I put on clean clothes and deodorant, so I don’t deserve the glare I’m receiving. "She’s in a meeting," the assistant says, trying to block my path.

  "I know she’s in a meeting," I growl, pushing past her. "But she has a file I need. Do you mind? We are partners, you know."

  In both the professional and sexual sense now, you nosey pain in my ass. Go away. Go very far away.

  Gail mumbles something about Kels not liking it and stalks off.

  "She likes it just fine, thank you very much," I say quietly. I take a seat behind Kels’ desk and thumb through her mail. Most of it seems pretty harmless. There are a couple of pieces that give me pause, though, and I lay them to the side. They both have LA postmarks but no return addresses. I am, of course, assuming that Dr. Susan Feel Good wouldn’t send her anything at the station. Hmmm, really need to find a way to get rid of her.

  Kels’ phone rings and out of habit I pick it up. "Kelsey Stanton’s office."

  "This is Dr. Susan Hamilton. Is Ms. Stanton available?"

  Speak of the fucking devil. "Hi, Doc. It’s Harper Kingsley. I’m sorry, Kels isn’t available." To you, ever again in this lifetime, if I can help it. I lean back in the chair, trying not to sound as irritated as I feel. "She’s in a meeting. Can I take a message?"

  "Just ask her to give me a call. She has my number."

  Yeah, so do I. "No problem. I’ll tell her as soon as I see her." Now all I have to do is walk around with my eyes closed for the rest of the day.

  Christ, Harper, get a grip. This is not junior high. Even though your hormones seem to think it is.

  "Thanks. Have a good day, Ms. Kingsley."

  "You too, Doc."

  I manage to hang up the phone without slamming it down. Returning my attention to the mail, I am careful with the pieces that have caught my eye.

  "It’s a federal offense," Kelsey offers quietly as she steps in her office and closes the door and the blinds, "to open up someone else’s mail."

  "Kels, I …" I’m on my feet trying to find my tongue and a good excuse. Then I narrow in on her. "How did you know?"

  "Gail came in and told me."

  "Why that little shit!"

  Kels raises her hand. "Now don’t be too upset. I got to throw a fit, threaten to come kill you, and make a hasty exit out of a meeting that was boring me senseless. And it was perfect because Jessica was rambling on about something unbelievably stupid. So it was extra special."

  I watch as she locks her office door. "Kels, what are you doing?"

  "You know what, Tabloid?" She crooks her finger at me, calling me to her. For some reason my legs obey her. Traitors.

  "What?" I find myself waiting in front of her.

  "They want me in the closet, so I want you to consider this a great big closet for a minute."

  She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. Immediately, I enfold her in my arms, pulling her tight against my body. God, I love the feel of her breasts against mine, the way our bodies seem to melt into one another. Her mouth is so soft and she tastes so sweet, like the honey she puts in her tea every morning.

  I’m feeling more than a little breathless when we part, and hungry for more, but she takes a moment and wipes her lipstick from my lips. Guess I’m not getting any more right now. Damn. Why have such a nice couch in her office if we can’t put it to good use?

  "So not your shade," she teases.

  I step back, instantly feeling the loss. She unlocks her door but leaves the blinds closed. I guess to not seem too suspicious. She crosses over behind her desk.

  "Now, why were you going through my mail?"

  "I was looking for anything that might be from your little friend." I rest against the corner of her desk. I take a moment to enjoy the view, her blouse is open one button too many for prime time, and her skirt came up to mid-thigh when she sat down. She has wonderful legs. What I wouldn’t give for them to be -

  "Find anything interesting?"

  Oh yeah. Wait, she’s talking about the mail. "Couple of things I want to check out." Get your mind out of the gutter, Kingsley.

  "Will you do me a favor and take them? I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t even want to know if they are from him, okay?"

  I reach for the two pieces of mail. "No problem."

  "And, please, consider yourself told off." She grins again.

  "You, madam, can tell me off anytime." Oh yeah, I suppose I should tell her about the good doctor calling. "Kels," I trace my finger over a stack of files, "Susan called."

  "Oh."

  "She wants you to call her."

  "Okay, if I get a chance, I will."

  I’ll keep you busy forever if that’ll do the trick. Maybe in a year or two Susan will take the hint and go quietly into the sunset. And, I like that noncommittal response. Not overwhelmed with enthusiasm to call the good doctor. Unless she only said it for my benefit. I could ask, I suppose. But I won’t. She’d tell me if she wanted to. Right?

  * * *

  There is a piece of mail that concerns me in a great big old way. As soon as I read it, I call Bear and make arrangements to get it to him. It’s a list of everywhere Kels had been in the last couple of weeks. It has the times, dates, places and the people she was with. It wasn’t even lost on the guy that she spent a few nights at my place. He knows she left town, but it doesn’t seem to reflect that he knew where she was. Thank God for that. I don’t want my family involved in any way. It’s bad enough he’s after Kelsey.

  I make sure Kels is indeed going to be tied up at the station all day before I leave to meet Bear for lunch at The Rio. I’m looking at the note and picking over a bacon cheeseburger and steak fries when he arrives.

  "Harper, I’m glad to see you." He grabs a seat, motioning to the waitress to bring him the same thing I’m eating. "We need to talk."

  "No kidding." I hand him the note. He takes it, exchanging a piece of paper with me. I read it through carefully. "Christ! Bear, are you absolutely sure?"

  "Positive. The fibers found in the hair of one of the victims definitely match the fibers from the bear Kelsey got from her admirer. I just got the report back this morning. I was going to call you when I got your call."

  "Then this means ..." Oh God, I just lost my ability to speak. And I might get sick right here and now.

  "The guy killing the blondes is also Kelsey’s stalker."

  "Fuck."

  "I know, Harper. It scares the shit out of me, too." He lays a large, comforting hand on my shoulder. "But the good news is we’re going to have surveillance on Kelsey 24/7 from here on out."

  "You’re staking her out like a sacrificial lamb," I accuse.

  Bear shakes his head. "Nope. The sick fuck has done that himself. And she’s our best chance at getting him before he carves up some other woman."

  I blow out a deep breath, trying to quiet my rebellious stomach. "They all look like her, don’t they?" I know the answer to my own question. My mind supplies me images of the previous victims, all young, all petite, all blonde, all green-eyed, all beautiful.

  He nods. "He’s been trying to create them in her image, I think, although I ain’t the department shrink. Probably kills them when he realizes they aren’t her."

  "I need to get back to the station."

  "I figured. Look, my Captain and I will be by later to go over some safety protocol with you both. I’ll also want to talk to the general manager about what’s going on. I hear from a friend at the FBI that they are sending in another agent to help with the investigation. Most likely they’re going to bring in another profiler. They may want to talk to Kelsey."

  "Yeah, fine." I can barely hear him over the pounding of my heart. I pull a ten dollar bill out of my pocket and lay it on the table to cover my lunch. "I gotta go, Bear."

  I can’t hide this from her, as much as I might want to. She deserves to know what we’re up against. And to know she’s not alone.<
br />
  * * *

  Harper is standing in my doorway with a look that has me really confused. It’s somewhere between playful and very concerned.

  "What’s up, Tabloid?"

  "We need to talk."

  Oh, I most definitely don’t like the sound of that. Is this where she tells me it’s been real and it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun? Kels, you always manage to either run or scare everyone off. Poor Harper certainly isn’t the type to hide and I can’t blame her for that. Closets weren’t built for two.

  "Okay." I lean back from my desk hoping I don’t lose it when I actually hear the words. How can it hurt so much after so short a time?

  "First, I want to give you this." She steps in my office and closes my office door, locking it as she does so. In a few long strides, she crosses to me, turning my chair to face her. Harper drops to her knees and hands me a long, thin box. I take it in shaky hands. I’ve never been given anything from someone who was about to dump me. Is this some new dating custom I haven’t heard about? When I remove the lid, I find a toothbrush. I can’t stop the smile that breaks across my face. Lifting it out of the box, I find a key tied to the end.

  "What’s this?"

  "Everything you need to stay at my place. Something to keep your breath sweet." She leans forward and steals a brief kiss, her hands coming to rest on my legs. "And a key to get you in the front door."

  "Okay, the toothbrush I can understand, but the key? That’s an awfully big step." And one I’d like for her to define for me, just so there are no misunderstandings here.

  "There’s a big reason, Kels."

  "What?"

  And she tells me.

  * * *

  Blinking tired eyes into darkness, it takes me a few moments to realize the bed is empty beside me. I roll over slowly and see her outlined against the window. She’s in the wingback chair there, tucked under my Nonny’s handmade quilt. Trouble is curled up on her lap and I can hear the beast purring from here as she strokes him idly with the fingertips of one hand.

  "Kels?"

  She jumps at my voice and looks over to me, the moonlight coming in through the window glinting across her eyes makes them look silver.

  "What time is it?" I ask.

  "It’s only three. Go back to sleep," she says softly.

  "Come to bed," I growl, extending an arm her way. "And we can do more than sleep."

  She chuckles. "You’re insatiable."

  "Me?" I respond with shock. I can barely keep up with her, so what if I’m younger? The good Lord knew I’d need stamina, that’s why he let me be born seven years later.

  "Mmm," she responds positively, ignoring my shock. Sometimes I think she’s embarrassed by her own carnal desires. She has no reason to be ashamed, that’s for damn sure.

  "What’s keeping you up? Not that Trouble doesn’t enjoy the company."

  She pauses to scratch behind his ears and the damn cat seems about to implode with pleasure if his loud purring is any indication. "Couldn’t sleep."

  I know why she can’t sleep and I need to distract her. "We don’t have to," I leer. I can’t help myself. She’s everything I’d imagined and more. I can’t keep my hands off of her and I know under that delicate quilt my grandmere made is perhaps the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, and a very sensitive heart as well.

  "Harper." Her tone is slightly chastising but gentle. She worries too much. I want her to forget things for awhile and concentrate instead on us and this room and the pleasures we bring each other.

  "Don’t make me drag you back to bed," I warn teasingly. I almost have her, I can tell by the way her face is shifting in the moonlight. She shakes her head.

  "All right. I warned ya." I toss the covers aside and prowl across the room. "Outta the way, Trouble."

  The cat doesn’t need any more warning. He’s lived with me long enough to know when he’s not welcome in the bedroom. He moves his fat ass slowly, though, rubbing his head against Kelsey one last time before hopping down from her lap.

  I replace him there, straddling Kelsey’s legs and capturing her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. She responds readily, her hands moving to my bare back and lingering there, sending chills up and down my body. God, I can’t get enough of her. Whenever I touch her, it’s like I’ve never had my hands on her before. Her skin is hot under my fingers as they travel beneath the quilt and down her chest.

  "You worry too much," I murmur to her as I release her lips long enough to nibble at her ear.

  "Shut the fuck up, Tabloid, and take me to bed."

  That’s more like it.

  * * *

  From my office I can look across the newsroom and into hers. She’s chugging coffee, yelling at someone on the phone, her gestures large and imposing. It brings a smile to my lips.

  I think the most amusing part about her self-appointed position as personal bodyguard is that she accompanies me to the gym in the mornings. She purchased a membership last week after she broke the horrific news to me about my "admirer", but so far hasn’t done anything more than sit at the juice bar and drink the coffee she’s brought with her.

  Well, that and watch the women exercising.

  That bothers me some but I realize I trust her. I know that Harper, for all her flaws, is the most loyal person I have ever met. And her attention is almost always on me, anyway.

  However, being at the gym wreaks havoc on her libido and most mornings she insists we go back to her place to shower, change, and do something about releasing that pressure. This morning we didn’t have time. So on days like this, she’s an uncontrollable fury in the studio and it amuses me to no end since I’m the only one who knows why. The shit will hit the fan, though, if she sees my smug grin so I do my best to rein it in.

  While I’m sipping my tea and watching the various televisions in my office, the phone rings. Grateful for the distraction, I mute each TV in turn and pick up the receiver.

  "Kelsey Stanton."

  "Hey, little girl." To my surprise, I recognize the voice immediately. It’s Henry Richardson. He and my grandfather used to work in the Department of Defense as medical engineers for many, many years. Their last position together was in a biomedical lab, refining vaccines against potential chemical warfare. Pa had enjoyed the work, saying it was challenging yet rewarding and he liked the idea of being able to protect the populace from unseen enemies. My grandfather was an excellent man and I miss him dearly.

  "Henry," I say softly, shaken from my reverie. It’s hard because when I hear Henry’s voice I remember Pa’s as well. My first instinct is to get Henry off the phone and hide from those memories. I have too much going on right now with Harper and our growing relationship, and the stalker/serial killer mess, to get wrapped up in remembering a happier time with a jovial old man. The memories are still bittersweet; I’ve never said goodbye to Pa and have no desire to do so even now. He was solely responsible for nearly every happy moment in my childhood.

  Luckily, it seems Henry isn’t calling to reminisce. "I was wondering if you had the time to help an old friend."

  "Always, Henry," I say honestly, leaning back in my chair and picking up a pencil to chew. I’m a little surprised by his lack of subtlety. Henry was a man to beat around every bush in the damn forest before finding a point.

  "Your Pa always told me what a great reporter you are and how you can get to the bottom of anything."

  I laugh softly. "You and I both know what kinda bullshitter Pa was."

  "Not about you, honey. You know that."

  "I know." Please, Henry. I can’t do this. Not right now at least.

  I listen with half an ear as Henry tells me about what he’s been doing since retiring to his horse ranch a few years ago. He thought he was out of the biochemical warfare game until last week. Seems Texas is one of a few states in the US where anthrax can occur in cattle. And he thinks that someone he knows is trying to isolate the microbe and grow the spores for some evil purpose.

  It’s
all just supposition and rumor, and a bit too outlandish to be believed. I can’t help but wonder if this is an excuse to get me back to Texas. I swore I’d never go home again.

  * * *

  "Texas? What the hell is in Texas?" I ask as Kels basically falls into my sofa. It’s all I can do to keep from getting up and going over there and trying my couch out. Stupid aerobics class ran late for her this morning. So, instead of sweating with me, Kels was sweating with a couple dozen women in tight little leotards … oh, Jesus, don’t go there Harper. You’re in enough pain as it is.

  "Well," she sighs just a little, crossing her legs in a very "Basic Instinct" manner.

  Keep it up, Kels, and we will be trying out the sofa. Right here. Right now. Blinds open and consequences be damned.

  "If you must know," she continues, oblivious to my distress. "My family, on my Father’s side is from Texas."

  I laugh as I lean forward on my elbows. "You’re not a complete Yankee?"

  "Not completely. I was born and raised in New York, but some time was spent with my grandparents in Texas as a child." She smiles quizzically at me. I know she’s wondering why I asked. I’ll tell her later.

  Oh, Mama will be thrilled at this news. Texas isn’t exactly the South, but at least it’s below the Mason-Dixon line.

  "A friend of my grandfather’s called me this morning. He needs my help. Actually, he needs our help."

  "Well, any friend of yours …" I want to say ‘is a pain in my ass’ (for example, Erik and Susan) but I hold back. "Can’t be all bad," I finish politely, rising to move to the front of my desk, leaning on the edge to obtain a better view down the front of her blouse. I cross my arms over my chest. "What’s the problem?"

  She leans forward, enhancing my view. I smile; sneaky Kels, you play the flirt game pretty well. "Would you believe anthrax?"