by KyAnn Waters
“Yes, I do.”
“I can’t imagine who.”
“We’re just beginning our investigation.” And he hoped to hell he didn’t find evidence against McKenna. He wanted her to be innocent. He turned away and paced across the stone tiled floor. Patterns like the bottom of a whitewater riverbed flowed from one grayish blue square to the next. Getting information out of McKenna felt like swimming upstream. Getting her to understand the gravity of her situation was proving impossible.
“How long have you been divorced?” she asked, handing him back his mug.
“Three years.” As he took the cup from her hand, the doorbell rang. The tones and chimes echoed through the house. Last time he’d heard such music he’d been in a cathedral.
“Just a minute.” She excused herself.
Polite etiquette would have had Dustin remain where he was, but investigating a murder gave him liberties he might not normally take. Anything he could find out about the company kept in the Porter home helped his investigation. So he followed her.
“Can I help you?” McKenna vaguely recalled the man standing outside her door. Several other men, also wearing suits stood behind him.
“My name is Gary Chen. I worked with your father. Actually,” he stumbled. “I worked for him. I am…was his assistant.”
“Yes, of course.”
“We’re having trouble accessing your father’s research.”
She opened the door wider. “Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” Gary stepped into the foyer. “We’ve tried contacting you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve had the phone off the hook. I meant to call and thank you for the flowers. It was very thoughtful of everyone at Ronac.”
“We know this is a difficult time.” He acknowledged Dustin with a slight bow of his head. “Much of his computer at the lab is encrypted. You know how he protected his research.”
McKenna pointed down the hall. “You can take the files from his office.” She smacked her lips. “Except, I sort of made a mess.” She led them down the hall. It looked as if a cyclone blew through the desk and filing cabinet. “I didn’t find what I was looking for. You’re welcome to it. Hopefully, you’ll have better luck.”
Gary instructed the men with him to gather up the papers. “Would you mind if we take the computer?”
She paused to debate the request. “Actually, I do. I’ll want to delete any personal files first.”
Dustin stepped forward. “Perhaps they could send out a tech to look at the files next week?”
“Does that work?” McKenna asked.
“Certainly. We’ll take these papers with us now, and I’ll call you later in the week to make arrangements to access the computer.”
“Then I’ll leave you to let yourself out when you have what you need.”
Dustin followed McKenna back into the kitchen. “What were you looking for in the office?”
She stood at the kitchen sink and watched the dogs crisscrossing the brush and scrub of the mountain with their tails wagging. “Anything to help me understand what happened?” A moment of silence passed. “Why do you think I did it?” she asked with her back to him.
Dustin leaned against the refrigerator. “As the detective working your case, I can tell you there’s quite a bit of circumstantial evidence. We look for opportunity, motive, and means. You’re the only person of interest because you seem to meet all three.” He stalked across the room. “If you can put me on someone else’s trail, I wish you would.” He sounded irritated with her.
“Don’t get mad,” she said and faced him. “Elliot didn’t have enemies. He didn’t have friends either. You’ve talked to my neighbors, my friends, and my coworkers. How can you still believe I had anything to do with his death?”
Holding onto the edge of the counter, he braced his upper body with his arms. “Personally,” he partially inclined his head and stared hard into her eyes, “I don’t.” He growled and ran his hands through his hair.
“Then why are you doing this?” she whispered.
“It isn’t that simple.” His face was close to hers, his breath warming her cheek.
God, he was handsome. His eyes penetrated, his presence both calmed and electrified. She was in trouble and it had nothing to do with the murder. The simple truth was that Detective Pearce turned her on. Her panties were wet. Anticipation sent her pulse racing. Awareness of his strength and determination seeped into her, warming her on the inside. Placing her hand on his chest, she leaned into him. “It should be. I didn’t kill Elliot.” He was strong and commanding. He was power and authority—everything she desperately ached for. She wanted to kiss him, wanted him to pull her into his arms, grind his cock into her aching sex and show her the power he wielded.
“Tell me to get out.” Leaning in, he matched his mouth to hers. Lips barely touched. His hand cupped her cheek.
“I can’t. I need you here, with me.” She clutched the front of his shirt with both fists. Eyes open, they stared at one another for a brief moment. Desire smoldered in the depths of his hazel irises. Then Dustin shifted his head. His lids slowly closed and so did hers. Lips parted and his tongue seared the inside of her mouth. Stars erupted, sparkling behind her eyelids.
She couldn’t remember the last time a man had held her in his arms and made her quiver with lust and want for more with just a kiss. Her body blazed. Fire licked her pussy, and she intrinsically knew the heated sensations raging through her burned Dustin, too. Desire spread through her breasts, and her nipples hardened into taut peaks. She needed his hands on her flesh, his weight on top of her.
Dustin aligned their hips, and the firm pressure of his erection pressed to her throbbing heat. Undulating his hips, he ground his cock against her clit. Even through his slacks, the thickness and length had her channel clenching, demanding to be filled. Awareness of his scent, his touch, and his intentions collided in her mind. Needing more, she spread her thighs and widened her stance.
A growl rolled from him and the frenzied kissing reached a new level of arousal. The soft blade of his tongue sliced along hers. Molten heat liquefied her core and sent a flush over her flesh. His hands roamed up her arms, over her shoulders. Inhaling deeply, her chest expanded. He palmed her breast, and his thumb stroked the beaded nipple.
McKenna breathlessly pulled away. She wasn’t ready to end the sweet torture. She wanted to head straight for bed. Apparently, Dustin was able to reign in his intentions.
“Fuck.” He tightened his hands into fists. “We can’t do this.”
Ragged breaths kept her heart pounding. “It’s okay. I need you.”
“You don’t need me distracted. You don’t need me getting removed from the case.”
No that would be disastrous. She gulped a breath and bowed her head. “You’re the only one who believes me.”
He blew out a long exhale. “You’re a long way from getting out from underneath the radar. Detective Jones, my captain, and most importantly, the district attorney all have to be convinced.”
“What changed your mind? Maybe it’ll change theirs, too.”
He shook his head. “I can’t really say. You, me, instinct, all of it I suppose.” He put his cup in the sink and peered out the window. Officers still searched the wooded area behind the house. “I want you to be scared, McKenna.” He turned and faced her. “But not of me. I’ll be around.” Never shifting his gaze from hers, he stepped closer. “If you see anyone suspicious, if you feel a tingle run down your spine, don’t ignore it.” He stood directly in front of her. “Don’t think about what you should do. You call me. But if you believe you’re in danger, call 911.”
Understanding the implications, she said, “I don’t know why any of this is happening. How am I supposed to watch for something or someone I don’t know anything about?”
“All I’m saying is to be aware of your surroundings. Notice the people around you. If you’re hiding anything from me—”
“I’m not,” she inter
rupted.
“If you remember anything, I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, you call me.” He pointed a finger at her face. “This isn’t a game. Are you leaving anything out?” Dustin sighed. “I’ll find out eventually.”
McKenna looked down and shuffled her foot. “Nothing.” She was terrible at lying.
Chapter Seven
“Are you giving me a ticket?” Dawn came out of the tanning salon to find Tyson leaning against her car.
“It’s the middle of July. The sun is free.”
“Careful cop, you’re proving how smart you are. Tanning causes premature aging. Haven’t you ever heard about the importance of preserving one’s youthful appearance? Consider me Teri’s work of art. One hundred percent paint.” She waited for him to move out of her way. When he crossed his arms over his chest, she pressed the lock alert button on her keychain, causing a loud beep.
Tyson jolted off the vehicle. “What the…” He put a hand to his chest and took a breath. Dawn turned her lips up into a slow smile. “What the fuck was that for?”
“You weren’t moving and I need to leave.”
“You’ve got balls. I like that.”
“I can assure you, Detective, I don’t have balls.” She watched his eyes narrow. She knew she pushed his buttons, but hopefully it would keep his interest in her and off Mickey. And having his interest wasn’t a hardship. “Would you like to frisk me and find out for yourself? I know you detectives like to be thorough in your investigations.”
Damn, did he really intend to frisk her? He moved to her side of the car. “I checked out your yoga studio.” He opened the door for her.
Dawn’s heart pounded with his closeness. She swallowed, trying to bring moisture back to her mouth. “Did you meet Gabriel?”
“Pretty boy, soft spoken, yep, met him.”
Dawn sat behind the steering wheel but couldn’t close the door because he filled the open space. “He’s beautiful inside and out.” She reached for the handle.
“He’s great, if you like your men girly.” Tyson closed the door with a resounding thud and walked around the front of the car. Then he opened the other door and sat in the passenger seat.
“What are you doing?” Nervousness vibrated her voice.
“Nice,” he said, checking out the juiced up interior. He turned on the radio. Rock music pumped through the surround sound speakers. “Bet your boyfriend tweaked up your engine.”
She turned the ignition. Purring like a cat, the engine idled. “No man puts his hands on my car. If you’re referring to something else, that is none of your business.”
He stopped toying with the stereo controls. “You have a dirty mind.” The station changed to R&B, and he turned the knob and increased the bass. A deep lusty voice moved through the car. “You also had a date Sunday night.”
Dawn’s hands froze at three and seven on the steering wheel. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she thought of another lie she could weave with her story. “It was a double date.”
Tyson shook his head. “Who was with the princess?”
“Yes, she is and you’ll treat her like royalty.” Venom dripped from her clipped reply. Dawn knew the truth. Mickey could never hurt her antisocial asshole of a father, and Dawn felt entitled to goad the detective a bit. Until they pulled their heads out of their asses and figured out the truth, whatever means she employed would be justified in the end.
“Mickey was with Steven from yoga class. I don’t know his last name, but he’s a regular. And no, he’d not a girly man. He’s hard and fit.”
“Another alibi? Another friend?”
“A good friend if you know what I mean.” Mickey was so going to kill her.
“You know what I think about friends for alibis.”
“So then think of it more like acquaintances. This was sort of off the hip. You know what I mean?” Dawn took a piece of gum from the change dish. “Mickey likes Jazz. Free concert in the park, an invigorating yoga class, none of us were ready to call it a night.”
Dawn flipped her hair and put on her dark, black framed sunglasses. “Now get out of my car. I’m in a hurry. I have a nail appointment.” She straightened her fingers, leaving her palms on the steering wheel, and looked at the noticeable grow out on her tangerine-colored artificial nails.
He leaned across the center console. “Liar.”
Dawn could feel his hot breath on her ear. God, she hoped he couldn’t see the way her heart pounded in her chest. She turned her head bringing their faces mere inches apart and popped her gum. Displaying a dazzling smile, she let him see her gum as she chomped it loudly with her molars.
“Did you help her dismember the body after she put a cap in his ass?”
“She didn’t shoot Elliot. Have you checked with his colleagues? Maybe one of them wanted to try their hand at surgery. Amputated his arms and legs, or perhaps attempted a triple bypass but found out Elliot didn’t have a heart.”
“You didn’t like him?”
“No,” she said, leaning back in the seat. “He was abusive.”
Tyson leaned forward. “Did he hit her? She defended herself, accidentally killed him, and you helped her cover up the crime. She wouldn’t be in as much trouble if it was justifiable homicide. Covering up a death is against the law, but it’s not murder.”
“Get out!”
He reached over and turned off the car. “Not yet.”
“I’m late now. I might as well cancel.” She picked up her cell phone, and Tyson took it from her hand. “Elliot didn’t hit Mickey,” she said. “He never showed her any love either. Don’t say it. I know what you’re thinking. Mickey isn’t a sociopath. She had plenty of good role modeling from my parents. Married since high school, kids, careers, perfectly normal home grown Americans.”
“You’re the product of a normal, well-adjusted childhood, yet you lie to the police, put your friend in harm’s way by tainting our investigation, and you drive a hotel room that masquerades as a car.”
She looked into the backseat. A blanket folded neatly, a box of tissues, a little garbage bag hanging from the rear door, “Yep, all the amenities of home except a shower.”
“Maybe you could upgrade to a truck and fifth wheel?”
“I live with my mommy and daddy. Free rent, free meals, and my daddy masquerades as an emergency ATM when my funds run low. It makes him think I’m still his little girl.”
His gaze slowly rolled down her body. “You don’t look like a little girl, but you act like a spoiled brat.”
She clamped her gum between her front teeth and pulled it from her mouth, making a long pink string before twisting and twirling it back into her mouth. “Petulant children should be spanked.” Her lips smiled and pursed at the same time.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Detective Jones, you barely fit in my car. There’s no chance in hell you’re getting into my backseat.”
“You enjoy playing word games.”
“I like matching wits. Not the same thing.” She blew a bubble and popped her gum again as she appreciated his appearance and the way he filled out the space of the passenger seat. “This really was too much fun,” she feigned. “Next time we’ll meet at your place.” She wondered if she meant it the minute the words were out of her mouth. Yes, she did. If the conversation didn’t revolve around McKenna, she enjoyed the spattering of insults and innuendos.
“Oh, I needed to tell you Steven blew your alibi.” Tyson slid out of the car. “Call Ms. Porter. You’ll want to get started on damage control.”
Shit! As soon as Tyson shut the door and moved away from the vehicle, Dawn keyed the ignition and pulled away from the curb. Once safely away from the sexy, prying eyes of the detective, she picked up her cell phone and called McKenna’s. “We have a problem. Can you talk?”
“For a minute, I’m on my way to Albert’s office.” McKenna spoke through the speakerphone in her steering wheel. “He wants the medical examiner to issue Elliot’s death certificate.” I
f her worst fears were realized and she had to mount a defense, she was going to need Elliot’s assets. Albert insisted they meet immediately. “Dawn, you’re too quiet. What do you need to tell me?”
“Our alibi is toast.”
“How?” McKenna wanted to rip the story from Dawn’s mouth before she had a chance to speak it.
“That damn Detective Jones and stupid Steven.”
McKenna’s car swerved to the side of the road. She stomped on the brakes spraying gravel and coming to a stop just before she hit the blue sedan parked next to the curb. “And after all the work I put into Detective Pearce today. I flirted, made small talk, and brewed coffee.” She closed her eyes. She’d kissed him. Damn, but she’d wanted to fuck him. “Okay, I’m ready. Tell me what he said.”
“It seems I’m not the only one giving you an alibi. Detective Jones talked with Steven.”
“Of all the stupid—” She rested her head against the steering wheel. “Tell me it’s not as bad as I’m imagining. Did Steven tell him I’m his girlfriend?” Detective Pearce could then add slut to her list of personality traits.
“If he didn’t, I did.”
If they had been in the same car, Dawn would have felt McKenna’s hands around her neck. “How could you? Misleading the detectives to believe you and I were together feels very different than outright lying. I’m not that good.”
“Meet me later. It’s time to regroup. I’ll call Steven and tell him to shut up. If he wants a part in this, he’s going to need to learn to talk with us first.”
“If the police don’t find a way to convict me, I’m sure you will.”
* * * * *
Dustin threaded his fingers on top of his head and leaned back. Sitting at his desk, he read his report regarding the Porter’s neighbors. The little lady who lived across the street insisted McKenna had been gone most of the afternoon contradicting what McKenna herself had said. And the woman next door who called the police knew what time she’d returned home, claiming she’d been outside with her dog. That was how she heard the screams a few minutes after McKenna entered the house.