Lethal in Love

by Michelle Somers

  But he still had that mind-melting grin.

  ‘Nice to see you, too, Jayda.’

  Hell! Was she really all google-eyed and staring?

  A mental headshake went partway to clearing her mind. Pulling back and noticing a patch of fingerprint powder she’d missed did the rest.

  She rubbed at the black specks and refocused on their conversation. ‘What calculations?’

  ‘It can’t be Thursday. From memory, we’ve only reached friend status on Wednesdays and Fridays.’ He walked past her and into the living room. ‘So, why the security?’

  Only then did she register the officer standing across the hall. She nodded, then closed the door. Her comprehension was a little slow, but, yeah, Seth was still pissed. While she’d moved on from this afternoon. In leaps and bounds.

  She waved her hand, turning to hide the threat of tears. ‘Your computer’s over there.’

  He moved towards the dining table. ‘What? No comeback? No gems or words of prophetic wisdom?’

  ‘They take a crap-load of energy and today I’m fresh out.’

  His gaze narrowed, piercing her over the lid of his computer, then he glanced down. ‘What happened here?’

  He swept his finger across the keyboard before holding it up covered in a line of fine black dust. She’d tried to brush and blow the powder from between the keys, and thought she’d succeeded. Obviously she was mistaken.

  ‘Fingerprint powder.’

  His hand froze halfway to pushing the lid down. ‘Why is there fingerprint powder on my computer? And while we’re talking weird and “what’s up”, what gives with your buddies outside?’

  ‘Didn’t Officer Brandon tell you?’

  ‘That man was tighter than a nun’s chastity belt in a brothel.’

  His words almost dragged the corners of her lips upward. Almost.

  Of course he didn’t know the spiral her life had taken since this afternoon. He’d been somewhere else. With her maybe? His date? She didn’t know why the thought came to her now, or why it felt so damned rough. Her list of worries far surpassed the importance of how Seth had spent his afternoon without her and why he looked like a man fresh out of a woman’s bed.

  Something she shouldn’t give two hoots about.

  He’d slammed out of her car five hours ago. When he returned, he’d been occupied with their phone conversation, hadn’t continued past her apartment. Hadn’t seen the crime scene tape two doors down or Teddy’s van as it left with Eric in the back wrapped in a black body bag. Hadn’t been there to witness her team pull out ten hidden cameras and their respective mics, or package up the photo and frame as evidence.

  The tremors started deep inside, moving slowly to the surface as her shaking hand gripped the back of a chair. ‘You don’t know?’

  Gun-metal softened to almost blue. ‘Know what?’

  32

  Seth felt the automatic softening of his resentment, and he fought it like a hound would fight for a T-bone steak.

  Something had changed in Jayda. Nothing to do with the dark circles under her eyes or the listless, lack of blush to her cheeks. Although these still tugged at him in a way he tried to ignore, the difference he sensed was intrinsic.

  The fight he’d so admired, and endured, was gone. She looked young, vulnerable. Pleased to see him.

  Just went to show how fucked up he was over her. And why his decision to quit their work relationship was the wisest goddamn decision he’d made since they’d met.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She eyeballed him as if he was off his rocker. She wasn’t far wrong.

  The tentative attempt she made at a smile almost shattered his resolve. He’d be a heel not to notice the sheen of unshed tears, or the way her hand shook as it brushed back a lock of flaming red. ‘I’ve had better days.’

  ‘That’s saying a lot, considering the crap that’s happened lately.’

  Her bottom lip quivered and she fought it like a trooper. His glance at the door was fleeting, his censure at his weakness only slightly less so, before he moved away from his computer. ‘I’m in dire need of a coffee. How about you?’

  Her relief was almost overpowering, and he moved towards the kitchen before she could put her expression into words. He wasn’t staying. Not past a drink and checking she was okay. ‘Instant or espresso?’

  Fire returned to her expression. ‘Are you kidding? Putting instant and coffee in the same sentence is sacrilege.’

  He bit back a smile. ‘Ah, how could I forget? So, espresso?’

  ‘Is there any other kind?’

  ‘A purist. Who’d have thought?’

  Her gaze met his, and before he could lose himself in rainforests and dew-swept meadows glinting in the morning sun, he grabbed her percolator from the bench and filled it with water. Adding the grounds, he sat it on the stove and began the process of warming the milk.

  Just under one week ago, he’d performed this task for the first time as Jayda slept. Before then, coffee was coffee and he’d have taken it any which way, as long as it had legs. Thanks to Google, he’d become an expert at the perked kind, and it was ruining him for anything else.

  Jayda perched at the breakfast bar, same as that following morning. Back then he’d suffered under the delusion that they could work together. That he needed her and she needed him, equally. Now he knew better.

  Jayda made it her mission to need no one. And he doubted anything he or anyone else did could change that.

  The silence between them was testament to how far they’d fallen towards animosity. Despite his ridiculous need to care for her.

  Experts would say it stemmed from his childhood, and his almost child-like yearning to be wanted. And perhaps they’d be right. It didn’t matter. The theory wasn’t one he intended entertaining, either now or anytime soon.

  He removed the percolator before the brew burned, then added the hot, aromatic liquid to the milk.

  ‘Here.’ He slid the mug across the bench, and she wrapped her long, fine fingers around it.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  She sipped, pulling back as the heat hit her lips. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Why do you have a hole in your ceiling?’

  They both stared up at the gaping puncture in white plaster where her downlight used to be. Haunted grey tinged her skin, her fingers shaking as she plunked her mug onto the bench. Brown liquid sloshed over the sides.

  ‘Careful!’ He grabbed her dripping hand and held it under the cold running tap. ‘Damn, Jayda. There’s no need to make a bad day worse.’

  A humourless laugh hacked out from her throat. ‘You think it can get worse?’

  ‘What happened?’ He fought to soften his voice, when all he wanted was to shake her until she told him what was going on. Instead, he loosened his grip, gently tracing his thumb over her knuckles as he searched her eyes for answers.

  She yanked her hand back, hugged it to her chest as she drew in deep, haggard breaths. He turned off the tap.

  Old Jayda was back. The one who had to stand on her own and wouldn’t accept an ounce of help, no matter what the cost. And yes, there was always a cost.

  Damn, would the woman never learn?

  ‘Where to start?’ Her voice was high and brittle as she smeared the water from her hand onto her top. ‘Let’s see . . . someone hid a handful of security cameras in my apartment. Was even thoughtful enough to leave a photo and message for me to find.’

  A volcano began building in his brain. ‘And still, no doubt, you’re defending Eric.’

  ‘Eric’s dead.’

  He froze. ‘He killed himself?’

  ‘That’s assuming he stabbed himself three times in the chest before finishing the job with a slash to the neck.’

  The thrash of blood through his veins stopped, along with his heart. ‘Madden’s MO for killing his wife.’

  Her lips tightened. ‘The apprentice is branching out. What’s the bet his mentor isn’t imp
ressed.’

  ‘The man has a lot of answering to do on Saturday.’

  ‘If he talks.’

  Something twisted inside his chest that he couldn’t ignore. It could just as easily have been Jayda and not Eric lying in the morgue right now. The thought wrenched at the ham salad sandwich still sitting undigested in his stomach. ‘I should have been here.’

  She lifted her chin, fire returning to her expression. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You might not have been.’

  ‘I don’t think he wants me dead. Not yet, at least.’

  ‘And you know this, how?’

  A deep breath and she was back. Damn, he admired her spunk, even while he thanked the heavens it had returned.

  ‘He’s had more than enough opportunity. Access to my apartment, knowledge of my movements. Not only was he watching, but he was listening. He could have entered anytime and killed me, but he hasn’t. So, the question is, why?’ She pushed back at hair already secured behind her ear. ‘You were right before, you know. This guy is someone I know.’

  He nodded and bit his tongue. No need to gloat, it was enough that she’d come round to his way of thinking.

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened since I saw you last.’

  ‘We might need a refill.’

  He looked down at his almost-empty mug. ‘You might be right.’ He grinned across the bench and the natural curve of her lips tugged at his gut.

  Don’t be a schmuck! You weren’t staying for more than one drink. Drink’s over, and so is anything with her.

  Time to go.

  He dumped the used coffee grounds into the bin.

  Just one more drink. That was all he’d share. She’d tell him what happened, he’d make sure she was okay, then he’d pack up his computer and say goodbye without so much as a backwards glance.

  Easy.

  The heavy patrol outside would see she remained safe.

  Coffee made, they moved into the living room. Jayda curled up at one end of the couch. He ignored the obvious invitation to take up the other end, instead lowering himself into the armchair opposite.

  She sipped at her drink before peering at him through the rising steam. ‘Where shall I start?’

  ‘I usually find the beginning a good place. Starting at the end just gets messy.’ The hoot of her laughter filled the room.

  ‘You should laugh more often.’ He didn’t realise he’d said the words until she stopped, her wide eyes fixed on him with surprise.

  Then the corner of her mouth twitched. ‘I will when you’re funny.’

  ‘Ouch!’ He slapped a hand to his chest.

  She laughed again, and his resolve melted like an iceberg fallen victim to global warming.

  His grip on the mug tightened. All this warmth and fuzziness was too little, too late. Nothing she said or did would make him stay. Even if she fell onto her knees right now and begged.

  He cleared the clog in his throat and pushed back his weakness when it came to her. ‘Why don’t you start from when I left you.’

  The laughter lines dissolved, and her armour slipped. The amber flecks in her eyes dimmed, and she looked almost lost. Then, one deep breath and the armour was back.

  With the voice of an automaton, she relayed how she was turned away from the crime scene. How she’d returned to her apartment and found the Night Terror’s message, and how her squad had located the hidden cameras before entering Eric’s apartment only to find him dead.

  As every second passed, his mercury edged its way upwards. And when she detailed the picture inserted into her frame, and even worse, the message, he bitterly regretted his decision to stay for that second drink.

  His gaze flitted briefly to the door. He should have left when he’d had the choice.

  Because now it had been taken from him.

  ‘You can’t stay here alone.’

  Jayda’s head jerked. What the hell was it with men and their almost obsessive compulsion to protect her?

  Her fluttering heart, she ignored. This was Seth’s Boy Scout altruism at work. Something he’d do for any woman, regardless of who she was and what he felt for her.

  ‘I don’t need a babysitter.’ She dumped her mug on the coffee table.

  Seth’s elbows rested on his knees and he leaned forwards, looking at her as if she were something. Everything. ‘What about a friend?’

  The words tugged at her heart, guilt strings strumming anew over her treatment of him ever since they’d started the whole working-together fiasco. Her fingers trembled in her lap. ‘No one ever has enough friends.’

  ‘Then let me stay and be one now.’

  She wouldn’t let his words melt her. Much as she was tempted—oh, God, was she tempted—what then?

  If she leaned now, would she ever walk upright again? The fear had been there as long as she could remember. She’d never been able to shake it, no matter how hard she tried. The cost of depending on someone other than herself was too great, when they could so easily walk away, leaving her to fall without any chance of picking herself up. If she thought long enough and hard enough, she’d have no choice but to agree.

  Lust had a way of yielding havoc over logic.

  Being honest with herself and admitting the truth was half the battle. The sole reason she faltered was her memory and their encounter on the rooftop. And her desire for it to happen again.

  Only that was the night Bec died. A clear sign of how wrong the whole episode had been.

  What she needed to do was let Seth know she was happy to continue with their original agreement. All rules still effective and securely in place.

  But first . . . she inhaled deeply, slowly, before launching into something that was well overdue. ‘I’m sorry. For before. For every time I made you feel like you were less than welcome, or that you were the root of all that was wrong in my life.’

  She raised her hand when it seemed he meant to interrupt, and barrelled on before she lost momentum. ‘There were other, much stronger contenders for that position, but when they weren’t available, I took my anger out on you. And that was wrong.’ The oxygen shuddered into her lungs as she breathed in again. ‘Seth, I’m really, really sorry.’

  His expression was one of a man who’d just witnessed a miracle. ‘Apology accepted. I guess that means I’m staying.’

  ‘No. It means I’m sorry. And that you can be a friend without staying.’

  ‘Not if I care about your safety, I can’t.’

  Her hand slid into her front jeans pocket, to the crumpled paper she’d written a lifetime ago. ‘I’m happy for us to continue working together. But that’s it.’

  He unfolded himself from her chair and stood so that she had to tip her head right back to meet his gaze.

  ‘This isn’t a come-on, Jayda. But either I stay here with you or you stay at my place. Those are the only two options you get.’

  It’d take a helluva lot more than a hot man and height to intimidate her. She pushed herself up from the couch, and the tilt of her neck reduced to marginal. ‘Nothing’s changed, Seth. There’s still a killer out there and I’m still going to catch him. You can either help me out or not. It’s up to you.’

  His squinted gaze fastened on her face until she felt it burn. She wanted to squirm, to turn away. Only wouldn’t that be a sign he was chipping his way through her resolve?

  ‘I’ll leave you to ponder over that, and while you do,’ she dragged steel into her shoulders and squared her feet, ‘I need to see inside Eric’s apartment.’

  33

  Seth knew Jayda well enough to recognise a diversionary tactic when he saw it.

  But that old saloon door swung both ways and she should have known him well enough by now, too. He wouldn’t fall so easily for one of her tricks.

  He was staying the night, whether she liked it or not. The conversation wasn’t over, just postponed.

  ‘It’s a crime scene.’

  ‘And I’m a homicide detective.’

  ‘On leave.�
�

  She waved her hand carelessly as she moved to the window and peered outside. ‘Semantics.’

  ‘What are you planning to do with your buddies outside?’

  ‘Lucky for us, they’re out the front having a pow-wow. Are you with me or not?’

  She detoured to her stereo and switched it on, then turned it up. Frankie Goes to Hollywood blared from the speakers, telling them both to relax.

  As she moved towards the door, he noticed for the first time that she was wearing her shoulder holster and gun under her clothes. Something she hadn’t done in her apartment before today, or at least, not since they’d met.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘That you still want your story.’ She didn’t wait for him to answer. Keys in hand, she unlatched and opened the door, first scouring the hall before glancing back. ‘Coming?’

  He was still floored that she seemed to think his job was the only reason he’d returned. Well, that and his computer.

  Did she believe his wanting to sleep with her was all about the story, too? The thought made him sick to his stomach. He may be single-minded, but he wasn’t mercenary. And after their time together, she should have known.

  He followed her through the door, out of sorts and hating that she had the power to affect him that way.

  A cat screeched from somewhere nearby and they froze. Jayda recovered first. ‘Georgie!’

  She tore down the hallway as the fire door slammed behind a jeans-clad figure, and in the few precious seconds it took him to react she, too, had disappeared from sight. He bolted after her, through the heavy door and down the stairs. It was way too long since he’d hit the pavement and just run, and the past few days’ lack of sleep didn’t help.

  ‘Georgie, wait!’ Jayda yelled again.

  Another door slammed and the sound of footsteps ceased. At the bottom, he yanked the door open and nearly bowled straight into her. She stood opposite a woman with bobbed copper hair and unsettled brown eyes who looked vaguely familiar.