Kill Without Shame
Page 22
She was melting beneath his touch, a dampness already forming between her legs as she ached for him to fill her.
“Then I should get ready for work,” she said, even as she accepted she wasn’t leaving this bed.
Not until Lucas finished what he’d started.
“No way,” he retorted, tracing the slight swell of her belly with a reverent appreciation. She’d always loved the fact that Lucas vocally complimented her curves, claiming that no man liked a stick-figure in his arms. “You’re staying home today.”
She glanced down her body, mesmerized by the sight of him slipping off the end of the mattress as he tugged her legs over his shoulders.
“Says who?” she rasped.
He sent her a teasing smile before he turned his head to kiss the tender skin of her inner thigh.
“Don’t you want to be here when Teagan returns?”
She released a choked groan, her heels digging into his back at the explosion of pleasure that rocketed through her.
He kissed each inch of her with a slow attention to detail that made her tremble with need.
“You could call me,” she ridiculously suggested. As if she could go to the office and actually concentrate on work.
He slid his tongue through the damp heat between her legs. “Stay,” he commanded.
“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as he dipped his tongue into the entrance of her body.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, her hips lifting off the bed as he pleasured her with his mouth.
Suddenly she couldn’t remember why she was fighting this. It had something to do with the past. And protecting her heart . . .
But her body didn’t care about that stuff.
It was ready, willing, and able to indulge in a few hours of fun.
Taking her to the very brink of an orgasm, Lucas planted a kiss on her inner thigh before he was moving back up her body.
“You’re right,” he husked. “Not a good idea. A great idea.” He took time to kiss the tip of each breast before he was settling between her spread legs. “The best idea I’ve had in fifteen years,” he assured her, gazing down at her with smoldering eyes.
Feeling as if she was spinning out of control, she said, “If this happens—”
“Oh, it’s gonna happen,” he insisted, trailing his tongue up the curve of her neck.
He was right. She was so close to climax she was fairly certain she would kill anyone or anything that tried to interfere. Still, she felt a cowardly urge to dismiss the intensity of her need.
“It’s just a temporary madness,” she breathed.
He lifted his head, his expression clenched with the effort of leashing his desire.
“This might be madness, but there’s nothing temporary about it,” he growled.
She rolled her eyes. Of course he couldn’t let her hang on to her pretense this was a brief moment of insanity.
“Arrogant,” she muttered.
“Yep.” With a smile he leaned down to trace her lips with the tip of his tongue.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“If you can still talk, I’m not doing this right,” he growled.
“I—”
Her words were cut short as he kissed her with a forceful purpose. Desire blasted through her, scorching away the flimsy barriers she tried to keep between them.
It’d been foolish from the beginning to think she could make love with this man without feeling utterly vulnerable.
That was how it’d always been between them.
Passionate. All-consuming. Irresistible.
Continuing to kiss her over and over, Lucas moved his hands to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples until she was groaning with sharp-edged need to have him inside her.
“That’s better,” he teased with a smug contentment as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Like I said, arrogant,” she muttered.
Lifting his head, he held her gaze as he reached to pull open a drawer of the nightstand beside the bed. Then, slipping on a condom, he entered her with one smooth thrust.
“Mia,” he groaned in harsh pleasure, his eyes sliding shut as he slowly pulled out before surging forward.
Her hands moved to grasp his shoulders, the enticing tension building deep inside her as he continued to rock in and out of her as he pressed hungry kisses over her face.
But soon the slow pace wasn’t enough. Mia was hovering on the edge of bliss, but before she gave in to her looming orgasm she wanted to smash through Lucas’s fierce control.
She dug her nails into his flesh, angling her hips off the mattress as she met him thrust for thrust.
“More,” she murmured.
A strangled groan was wrenched from his throat. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Grabbing onto the sturdy headboard, he gazed down at her with passion-glazed eyes.
“Hold on, baby.”
Chapter Nineteen
Teagan stood behind the desk in his large office, leaning forward to study the computer monitor.
He had a chair, of course. One that’d been constructed to perfectly conform to his large body. Hell, he’d paid a small fortune to ensure that everything in his office was top of the line. But he’d been up for forty-eight hours, and it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes in the buttery leather cushions to have him nodding off.
Planting his hands flat on the smooth wood, he impatiently waited for the program he was running to finish its latest polishing of the image he’d pulled from Tony’s video.
At the same time, he listened intently to the approaching footsteps.
He already knew who was entering the door behind him.
“Have you had any sleep?” Hauk demanded, moving to lean against the edge of the desk.
Teagan straightened, glancing at his friend, who was wearing a tailored gray jacket and crisp white shirt with a burgundy silk tie.
It was his “meeting with a client” power suit.
Teagan, on the other hand, was wearing black jeans, a gray Henley, and a pair of shit-kickers. No one was stupid enough to let him meet with clients.
“Not yet,” he admitted, lifting his hand to scrape it along the whiskers that darkened his jaw.
“Go home,” Hauk commanded. “Whatever you’re looking for will be there tomorrow.”
Teagan nodded his head toward the monitor. “Actually, I think I might have something.”
Hauk arched a brow. “From the video?”
“Yep.” On his drive to Houston Teagan had called Hauk to fill him in. “I had to enlarge the picture several times, which means that I’m still trying to sharpen the image, but you can start to see what she’s handing him.”
Hauk grimaced as he moved to have a clearer look at the screen. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
Tony was butt-naked and stretched across the bed with an equally naked Vicky Fontaine perched on top of him. But it wasn’t their entwined bodies that interested him. Instead, he fast-forwarded to the point when the woman crawled off Tony. Then, rolling to the side, she reached for the purse that was left on a nightstand. Opening the bag, she pulled out a small object and tossed it onto Tony’s bare chest.
Hauk leaned closer. “Is it a picture?”
“Not just any picture.” Teagan tapped on his mouse, enlarging the image.
“Shit.” Hauk turned his head to meet Teagan’s steady gaze. “That’s the picture of Mia.”
“Yep.”
When Teagan had first been skimming through the videos he’d thought the older woman had tossed a condom on Tony’s chest. Her way of saying they weren’t done. Teagan had made an effort to discover what it was only because he’d thought it was weird that Tony would jerk as if he’d been scalded when she made the move.
“Can you prove it was the one Tony was holding when he was killed?”
Teagan gave a lift of his hands. “Unfortunately, the video was grainy, and the
efforts to enlarge the image have made it even fuzzier,” he said. “I’m going to filter it a few more times to see if I can pick up the handwriting.”
Hauk nodded, his brow furrowed as he turned to lean against the edge of the desk. “If it’s the photo, it looks like Vicky Fontaine is involved in this mess.”
Teagan gave a short laugh. “I’d say she’s up to her recently lifted eyebrows in it.”
Hauk looked confused. “Why would she want to kill her lover?”
Teagan had chewed over a dozen different explanations before realizing the most obvious. “My guess would be that Tony was going to Lucas to warn him that Mia was in danger.”
Hauk arched a brow. “That makes sense,” he murmured. “He was never the intended target.”
“Not until he decided to talk to the wrong person.”
Hauk glanced back at the screen. “The picture would imply that Mia is the one who’s in danger.” He returned his attention to Teagan. “Do we know why Vicky Fontaine would want to hurt her?”
“That’s what Lucas is trying to find out,” Teagan said. “So far we know the Fontaine woman wants to buy George Ramon’s land. She claims it’s to turn it into a protected wetland.”
“Have you investigated the property?”
Teagan cocked a brow. Had his friend really just asked him if he’d done his research?
“From every possible angle,” he said. “There are no hidden oil or natural gas deposits. There’s no conservation group desperate to buy it to save some endangered toad. And there’s no plan for any local businesses intending to expand in the area.” He lifted his shoulder. “As far as I can discover it’s just a patch of swampy ground in the middle of nowhere.”
Hauk considered a long moment. “Maybe it isn’t the land, but what’s sitting on the land.”
That had been Teagan’s thought as well. “According to Lucas it was a bunch of junk,” he told his friend.
“One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”
“True.” Teagan had once known a man who’d stabbed his best friend for his lucky rabbit’s foot. “It wouldn’t hurt for Lucas to go out and have a look around. I’ll say something to him when I finish cleaning up this picture and send it to him.”
“Send it?” Hauk straightened, studying Teagan with a searching gaze. “You’re not going back to Shreveport?”
“Not now.” Teagan deliberately kept his tone light. “I have a few things I want to investigate.”
Hauk narrowed his gaze. “What things?”
Teagan was prepared for the question. “I’ve already started with Paul Fontaine.”
“Vicky’s husband?”
“That’s the one.”
“Why?”
He tapped a finger on the edge of the desk. It was a long shot. The man had disappeared seventeen years ago. Which meant that there wasn’t much chance it had anything to do with what was happening today.
Still, Teagan had a gut feeling. And that was something he’d learned never to ignore.
“The man skipped town with millions of dollars in pension funds,” Teagan said.
Hauk shrugged. “Wasn’t he already investigated?”
“He was, but I still think it’s hinky,” Teagan said.
“Show me.”
Teagan led his friend to the long table set up next to the edge of the room. There were a half dozen computers set up, all of them running separate searches.
Reaching the computer on the end, Teagan leaned down to type on the keyboard, pulling up the file he was running on Vicky’s husband.
“This is Paul Fontaine.” An image of a large man with a beefy face and short, black hair filled the screen. He looked more like a thug than a businessman. “His dad owned a chain of used car dealerships across the South.”
“New money,” Hauk murmured.
They’d both lived in the South long enough to understand the difference between someone who earned their fortune and someone who inherited a trust fund. Families like the St. Clairs would always consider themselves better than others because they came from a long line of wealth.
“Tarnished money,” Teagan corrected. Which meant it was even worse than new money. “There were rumors he had some shady contacts, but he managed to get his son into the top schools.”
Hauk leaned forward as Teagan pulled up another picture. This one of a young man standing in the middle of Branford Court.
“Yale.” Hauk gave a low whistle. “Nice.”
Teagan scrolled through the file to pull up the background he’d gathered on the man.
“At the age of twenty-four Paul moved to Shreveport, started his career as an investment banker, and married into respectability.”
Hauk’s lips twisted into a humorless smile as Teagan brought up a picture of Paul and Vicky standing in an elegant garden with a brick mansion in the background. The groom looked as if his cravat was about to strangle him while the bride had the grim expression of a lamb being led to the slaughter.
“I assume Vicky’s family was in need of a cash injection?” Hauk asked.
“Yep.” Teagan had discovered Vicky’s father had mortgaged the family estate as well as quietly sold off the large art collection and the thoroughbred stud farm. “They were descending into shabby genteel status.”
“So the daughter marries money, and the dutiful son marries a place in local society.” Hauk shook his head. “The true American Dream.”
Teagan shared his friend’s disgust. When he’d been young he used to fantasize about buying a big house on a tree-lined street. From a distance those homes looked like they could offer a peaceful security that was agonizingly missing from the slums where he lived.
It wasn’t until he was older that he realized what went on behind closed doors was pretty much the same no matter where you lived.
The only way to be safe was to learn how to take care of himself.
And that’s exactly what he did.
“Paul’s American Dream lasted until 1999 when he took off with millions of dollars that he’d embezzled from state pension funds,” he said.
“No one knows where he went?”
Teagan shook his head. “I hacked into the old FBI files—”
“Shit, Teagan,” Hauk interrupted. “Someday you’re going to get yourself tossed in jail.”
Teagan concentrated on finding the intel he’d downloaded. If he worried about getting caught every time he went digging for information, he’d never get anything done.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered.
Hauk heaved a deep sigh. No doubt he itched to give Teagan a stern lecture. All his friends worried he would someday get into a mess over his head, but thankfully he’d learned that Teagan rarely listened to advice. No matter how kindly offered.
“What did you find?” he instead asked.
“There was an investigation started months before Paul took off,” Teagan revealed. “He’d been dipping his fingers into his clients’ accounts for years.”
Hauk made a sound of shock as he swiftly skimmed through the financial report that Teagan pulled up. The banker had been ruthless in stripping his clients of their assets.
“Did Paul know his secret was out?” Hauk asked.
Teagan rolled his eyes. “The men in charge of the investigation were clearly rookies,” he said. “They questioned his secretary, who agreed to testify against him, but they hadn’t bothered to get an arrest warrant. Before they finally got one signed, sealed, and delivered, Paul had disappeared with over two million dollars in cash that he had stashed at his office.”
Hauk straightened. “No one heard from him again?”
Teagan shook his head. This was where the story got hinky for him.
“His wife hired a private detective to hunt him down.” It took a few minutes to click through the folders until he came up with the documents that had been handed over to the FBI by Vicky Fontaine. “She has pictures of him enjoying the sunshine on a beach in Bolivia,” he s
aid, at last finding the image of Paul wearing a bathing suit and dark glasses, sitting with an unknown woman near the water.
Hauk studied the image with a frown. “That’s him, or he has a twin.”
Teagan nodded. He’d run it through a face recognition program to be sure it was Paul Fontaine. He’d also researched the background to make sure it was actually a beach in Bolivia.
“Yeah. It’s him.”
“Who’s the woman?”
“No ID.” Teagan shrugged. He’d been unable to find any info on the dark-haired female who was seated at the table with him. “It was assumed she was some local beauty.”
“What did the authorities uncover?” Hauk asked.
“Jack squat,” Teagan growled. There was nothing that pissed him off more than shoddy work. “They wanted to hush it all up as quickly as possible, so the investigation was dropped just a few weeks after Paul disappeared.”
“Hmm.” Hauk studied him with a wary gaze. “You aren’t planning a trip to Bolivia, are you?”
Teagan reached out to tap the monitor of the nearest computer. “An electronic trip,” he said.
“What’s that mean?”
“I want to backtrack Paul Fontaine’s movements,” he explained. “That might help me discover links to people who helped him escape, and if his crimes have anything to do with what’s happening to Mia.” He held up his hand as Hauk arched a brow. “I know it’s a long shot.”
Hauk smiled. “Actually I was going to ask where you’re going to start.”
Teagan’s tension eased. He occasionally forgot the amount of trust his friends placed on his hunches. And in his ability to turn a gut feeling into tangible evidence.
“If he traveled out of the country he had to have plane tickets and a passport,” he said.
Hauk folded his arms over his chest. “With two million dollars you can buy a new identity,” he pointed out. “Not to mention the fact that security wasn’t nearly as tight before 9/11.”
Teagan agreed, but the days of being able to fade into the mist were long gone. “No one disappears completely,” he assured his friend. “Not unless they’re dead.”
“Okay.” Hauk gave a slow nod. “What else are you investigating?”