Witches of Three: Charlene

by Temple Hogan

  “I’ve had new locks put on everything, even the windows,” he said, leading her into the living room. “And a bar bolt on the front door. You’re not to open the door for anyone you don’t know.”

  “Good advice,” she said, recalling how she’d thrown open the door thinking it was Nick and had even stepped out onto the stoop to look for him.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I filled up your refrigerator with stuff from the deli. Tonight, I’ll cook supper for us, don’t you worry about anything.”

  She turned in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. He felt so strong and solid. He didn’t say anything, just pulled her tight and rocked her like a soothing parent might comfort a distraught child. She didn’t know she was crying until she felt the hot tears on her cheek. He kissed her brow and temple over and over again.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you again. I promise.”

  “Oh, Nick,” she said, thinking if he only knew. She turned her head so his lips closed over hers. Although his kisses would always be dynamite, this time, they were subdued and protective, with a sweetness that made her heart sing.

  “Lady, you make it hard to leave you,” he said, stepping back.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, disappointment evident in her tone. She didn’t want to be a clinger, but she didn’t want him to go.

  “I need to go back to the station. I have an appointment with the superintendent. They have some questions they want to ask me.”

  “About the missing drugs?” she asked, suddenly uneasy at the tone of his voice.

  “That and Ralph’s murder,” he answered. “Nothing to worry about. Will you be all right, or should I call Phil or your mother to come stay with you?”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, remembering how her mother and sisters had haunted the hospital while she was there. They had fussed over her and harassed the nurses until everyone was annoyed with them.

  She gave him a long kiss.

  “That’s just a sample of what’s waiting for you,” she said, grinning lasciviously.

  “It’s too soon,” he said doubtfully. “I want to give you time to heal.”

  “It’s only my jaw, Nick,” she protested against his throat. “The rest of me works fine.”

  “In that case.” His kiss knocked her off her feet, so she swooned in his arms.

  He picked her up and carried her off to the bedroom, and she purred, thinking he was about to make love to her, but he undressed her and tucked the covers around her before straightening.

  “Be good,” he said with a smile and walked out of the room.

  She sounded a protest at his duplicity, but he kept going. She heard the door close behind him and sank down in the familiar cocoon of her bed. It was much later in the afternoon when she woke. Feeling hungry, she got out of bed and wandered toward the kitchen where she heard sounds of someone cooking. As she wandered past the foyer, she spied a suitcase. Nick greeted her with forced cheerfulness.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, dropping linguine into a boiling pot of water. A pan filled with red gravy bubbled on another burner.

  “That smells heavenly,” she said, sitting on a stool at the counter. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “There are many things you don’t know about,” Nick said, “and a whole lifetime to find them out. I have some antipasto if you’re hungry.”

  “I think I’ll wait,” she answered, smiling at the sight of Nick in a frilly apron.

  Catching sight of her expression, he shrugged. “Hey, don’t make fun of the help,” he warned.

  “Speaking of which, what’s the suitcase in the hallway?”

  “That belongs to me. I’m moving in, baby. You’d better get used to my ways ‘cause I’m here to stay.”

  “Is that wise?” she asked, surprised.

  His grin faded.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “The cat’s out of the bag. Ralph managed to tell a lot of people his suspicions about us before he was killed.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “How does this affect your position?”

  “I’ve been suspended while they investigate.” He came to stand on the other side of the island and meet her gaze.

  “But you should be more careful than ever now. We don’t have to see each other for a while.”

  “I told them the truth,” he said. “I’m not a man to live his life on the sly. I should have told them from the very beginning then I could have asked for a transfer.”

  “The men in your precinct would have hated me. They probably do now. They all respect you.”

  “The thing is I have to respect myself.” His gaze held hers, and she wanted to throw her arms around him and just hold him.

  “I know what your career meant to you.”

  “I can start a new career,” he said. “I have a law degree. Maybe I’ll hang out my shingle.”

  “Oh, Nick,” she whispered. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he answered simply then his eyes darkened. “That’s the least of the problems.”

  She waited for him to go on, dread building within her.

  “There’s a question about Ralph. Someone’s made an allegation that I killed him to keep him quiet. And of course, there are plenty of witnesses who heard me threaten to kill him after our fight.”

  “They can’t possible think you meant it,” Charlie cried.

  “Apparently, they think it’s a strong possibility.”

  “There’s a big difference between possibility and actuality,” she flared.

  “We both know I didn’t kill him, so the truth will come out,” he said and, flipping a dishtowel over his shoulder, he turned back to the stove. Taking a large spoon, he dipped some of the pasta water into the sauce and smiled at her. “To marry the flavors,” he said.

  They dined at the small table in the alcove overlooking the patio. Nick made a production of pouring her wine, of serving her each course, of inquiring whether everything was satisfactory. He bowed over her, kissed her hand and up her arm, all the time effecting a fractured Italian accent, and when the meal was done, he insisted she remain seated while he whisked the tableware off to the dishwasher and served a delicate Italian ice for dessert.

  Charlie found she could laugh, that she could believe Nick would be exonerated and their life would be all they wanted it to be. They settled by the fire, sipping White Russians and gazing at the flames. She was cradled against his shoulder, her knees drawn up, his arm across her chest. She’d never felt so secure and loved.

  “What will happen now?” she asked, unable to keep up the lighthearted charade any longer.

  “I’ve thought about it, and I think it’s best if I hand in my resignation,” he said.

  “But isn’t that like admitting your guilt?” she asked, her heart breaking. She couldn’t bear to think how she’d disrupted his life.

  “Well, first and foremost, I didn’t kill Ralph, and I’m planning on doing everything I can to prove that.”

  “Me, too,” she said, hugging his arm to her.

  “I don’t want you to get involved,” he said, shaking his head. “Whoever did kill Ralph could come after you as well.”

  “Why would he?”

  “Why would someone try to kill you once already? I want you to stay safe. I have others who will help.”

  “I’m sure every man in the squad will do everything he can,” she said. “You should check with Ray Somnes, Ralph’s partner. He may have some idea who had it in for Ralph.”

  “I’ve already talked to him. He didn’t seem to know anything.”

  “Let me talk to him. We’ve become close over the past weeks. I think he has a crush on me.”

  Nick grinned. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  He tipped her head up and gave her a long, searing kiss that brought about a dousing of the fire and a rapid journey to the bedroom. They undressed each other, punctuating each shed
ding of garments with kisses and caresses that left them eager for more. When they stood nude before each other, they explored as if for the first time.

  Charlie loved his body, the long limbs, tight muscled abdomen, the broad shoulders, the jutting cock.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said softly.

  “So are you,” he said, running his big hands over her breasts and down to her waist, each touch a possession.

  He drew her closer and claimed her lips, his tongue capturing, her tongue yielding. Her senses were invaded by his scent, taste and feel. Even the deep breaths he took raised a response from her. When he guided her to the bed and nudged her down, she went willing, her body opening to his caress. His fingers trailed lower to her slit while his teeth nibbled at her breasts. She gasped and opened herself farther to him. He touched her clitoris then touched again, while she squirmed, wanting more, her moans demanding more. His movements turned to a rhythmic friction that threatened to turn her inside out. His fingers dipped inside her, gathering her creamy moisture, laving it over her clitoris then rubbing with increasing ardor until she was moaning with the climax that washed over her. His strokes were insistent, bringing her to culmination yet again. This time, she screamed and curled into a ball.

  “Enough,” she whispered. “I can’t take any more.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said and spread her knees wide so when he mounted her, she was once again open to him.

  This was different than his fingers had been. His cock was full and hard and smooth as it slid into place. She loved the feel of him inside her and began to move with him. He was a strong athletic man, and his stamina was amazing as he plunged into her with increased fervor. She’d thought she was too satiated to climax yet again, but she felt him stiffen, felt his cock throb deep inside her and her own muscles clenched tightly and a wave washed over her. She lay stunned by the intensity of her release. Nick sighed deeply and relaxed, and her body melted against his. She slept and awoke only when Nick moved to pull the covers around them.

  “Umm,” she grumbled sleepily, and he settled her against his shoulder before her eyes closed again. She had one thought before oblivion claimed her. Life was just too perfect. She’d never felt this complete.

  * * * *

  She had to face this alone, and she couldn’t let Nick know she was anxious. He had troubles enough of his own. She showered and dressed in her uniform without waking him. She changed her bandage into one less noticeable then headed out for the station. When she entered the squad room, the noise died away abruptly and every eye turned toward her. She’d never felt more like a pariah. She wanted to turn herself into a moth and fly out the window. Instead, she took a deep breath and walked to her desk and checked out her assignments for the day. There was nothing. She looked up in puzzlement.

  Sam Turner walked over to her. “They didn’t expect you back today,” he said. “You just got shot. You should be home in bed.”

  “I’m all right,” she answered, grateful he’d joined her.

  “You’ll probably have to see the acting captain then,” he said, nodding toward Nick’s office.

  “Thanks, Sam,” she said and took a step, then turned back to him. “I’m sorry.” His face maintained its inscrutable façade. Even his eyes were guarded.

  “I didn’t mean this to happen.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” he said noncommittally. “I think Captain O’Shea wants to see you now.” He walked away.

  Charlie looked at the short, round-bellied man standing in the doorway of Nick’s office. If she’d never heard his name, she would have known he was of Irish descent by his red face and snapping blue eyes, but Captain Brian O’Shea was well known by most of the precinct. And his hot temper was legendary. Taking a breath, she walked to his office, aware every eye in the place was on her.

  “Come in and sit down,” O’Shea ordered without preamble and seated himself behind the desk.

  He folded his hands over his considerable girth and stared at her silently. She knew this was meant to unnerve her and held his gaze. She was guilty of nothing, well, almost nothing. Nick had said there were no written rules about fraternization, and even if there had been, it wasn’t like they’d robbed a bank or killed someone. That thought sobered her as she realized their superiors didn’t know that and Nick was under suspicion.

  “Tell me about your relationship with Ralph Latimer?” O’Shea said.

  “I’ve never had a relationship with Ralph Latimer,” she said hotly.

  “Your working relationship,” O’Shea amended. “I understand you had some trouble with him.”

  “Not really,” Charlie said. “I stayed away from him as much as possible. I didn’t like him.”

  “You didn’t like him,” O’Shea repeated.

  “He wasn’t a likable guy,” Charlie said.

  “I was told he sought you out often for his unsavory remarks.”

  “Like I said, he wasn’t a likable person.”

  “Did you see him outside of work?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did Captain Hilliard dislike Latimer as well?”

  “You’d have to ask him that, sir.”

  O’Shea studied her for a moment. “Can you tell me anything about the fight between Latimer and Captain Hilliard?”

  “No, sir,” she answered, fixing her gaze on a spot on the wall behind O’Shea’s head.

  “I expect you know Hilliard was suspended until things get sorted out?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Charlie met his gaze. “At this moment, I don’t know,” she said.

  “Don’t mince words with me, Officer Spencer. We know he didn’t return to his home after he left here yesterday. Can you enlighten me on his whereabouts?”

  “How do you know he didn’t return home?” she stalled.

  “We tried to reach him there.” O’Shea frowned. “If you know anything, you might better help the captain by telling us what you know.”

  Charlie considered his words and knew he was right.

  “He picked me up at the hospital and took me back to my place where he made dinner and—” She hesitated.

  O’Shea finished her sentence for her. “And spent the night?”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered, lowering her gaze to her lap then she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. “He didn’t want me to be alone after the attempt on my life.”

  “Oh, yes, tell me about that.”

  Charlie did as he requested, emphasizing that if Nick hadn’t arrived when he did, she’d be dead. When she finished her narration, O’Shea nodded.

  “Fortuitous for you,” he commented. “Did you get any idea of who your attacker was?”

  “No, sir, it happened too quickly.”

  “Did you or Captain Hilliard think it might be Ralph Latimer?”

  “No, sir. I never suspected him.”

  “Did Captain Hilliard?”

  “I don’t think so, besides, he stayed with me until help came and all the time I was in the hospital. He hadn’t left by the time Latimer was murdered. He couldn’t have done it.” She stared at him triumphantly. “Nick can’t be a suspect.”

  “His alibi isn’t strong enough, Officer Spencer. He could have left the hospital while you were being treated.” He nodded toward her jaw and turned to some papers on his desk. “Until we sort all this out, you’ll be put on medical leave. It’s way too soon for you to try to come back anyway.”

  “I’m all right. The bullet just grazed my jaw. There are only a few stitches.”

  “Has your doctor released you?”

  She remained silent.

  “I thought not,” he continued. “Take some time off, Officer, and sort things out for yourself. That’ll be all.”

  Charlie opened her mouth to protest, but it was clear the captain had already dismissed her. Slowly, she got to her feet and left the office. Ray Somnes was waiting for her.

  “You all right?” he aske
d, eyeing her bandage.

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Ray, do you know what happened with Ralph? Have you got any idea who could have killed him?”

  Ray was already shaking his head. “Not a clue.”

  Charlie tried again. “Ralph told Geronimo that he had a sweet deal here and he wasn’t going to let Nick mess it up by transferring him. Do you know what he meant?”

  Again Ray shook his head.

  “You know, Ralph,” he said. “He always acted like he was a man involved in something big that he couldn’t reveal. He liked to pump up his ego.”

  “I think there must have been more to it than that,” Charlie said. “Nick said drugs are missing from the police storage. I think I’ll talk to Geronimo again. He said he had a hunch about something and wanted to check it out. Maybe he can tell me something that could help us.” She touched Ray’s arm. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”

  Ray just looked at her and said nothing. Maybe he was so distant because the other guys were watching. She resolved to talk to him again later when they were alone.

  Back in her car, she turned toward the hospital. Although it was early yet for visitors, she thought she might be able to have a word with Geronimo. She parked and got out her car, bending over to push the lock button, when a sound like a car backfiring came to her. At first, she didn’t understand what had happened until her window exploded.

  Dumbly, she stared at the broken glass then it dawned on her. If she hadn’t bent back into the car to hit the lock, the bullet would have hit her in the chest. She ducked down, using the door as a shield and drew her weapon. Edging up, she looked around the parking lot and saw nothing suspicious although the squeal of rubber could be heard. Someone had left the parking lot in a hurry. She considered jumping back in her car and giving chase then decided against it. She didn’t want to do anything stupid without backup. Instead, she called the police and waited for them to arrive.

  “Where were you?” Nick asked hours later when she arrived home.

  She told him about the attempt on her life. His lips thinned with anger.

  “Someone wants you dead,” he said. “And it’s not the suspect who shot Geronimo.”