by Dena Blake
Flipping through the information on Brad, she knew the man regarded her as a threat. And rightly so. Drew liked spinning his lady’s world.
The door swung open, and Jade shouted a takeout order of burgers and fries to the waitress behind the counter before sliding into the booth. They’d agreed to meet at this out-of-the-way diner about twenty miles from the track. “What’s up? I can’t stay long. Tommy’s out in the van.” She pulled the file around in front of her. “I see you found the info on Sam.”
“I got tired of reading all that crap on her sister.”
“A lot of interesting stuff, huh?”
“What’s your take on her?”
“Faith? She’s got quite a resume.”
“If you’re auditioning for men.” She smiled, recalling some of the wild adventures listed in the file.
“She does like them.” Jade took a piece of paper out of her pocket and slid it across the table to her. “I made a list of all the guys.”
“In date or performance order?” She chuckled.
“If you didn’t pick it up from the case file, some of the names are the same.” She pointed to three different ones on the list. “She’s got a thing for drivers.”
“What about Wilkerson?”
“No. He’s doing someone else.”
“Seriously?” She didn’t understand why. Sam was ridiculously hot.
She nodded. “I caught the two them the other day behind the garage.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“He’s hit on me a few times, too.”
“Does Sam know?”
“Not sure.” Jade picked up Drew’s cup, took a sip, and winced. “She probably knows about the fooling around, but not sure about the most recent.”
“What a jackass. She’s way too good for him.” She shook her head
“You’d better watch yourself, hotshot. Messing around with the boss’s daughter could be dangerous.”
She knew that, but watching Sam toss tools and slam drawers this afternoon had been an entertaining sight. The woman was hot when she was angry and even more gorgeous when flustered.
She hitched her lip up to one side and winked. “That’s my kind of danger.”
The waitress brought Jade’s order to the table, bagged and ready to go.
“What happened to the mother? I don’t see anything in the file on her.”
“Mom was killed by a drunk driver when Sam was ten.” Jade grabbed the bag and hollered to the waitress, “Put the burgers on her bill.” She gave Drew a quick wink and headed for the door.
She shot up out of her seat. “Hey, wait a minute.”
“Can’t. Gotta go.”
“Drunk driver. Why the hell did you have to tell me that?” Sliding back into her seat, Drew jammed the papers back into the folder and slapped it closed.
Chapter Seven
After arriving late to the sponsor party, Sam and Faith found the coat-check and slid their coats across the counter to the young lady.
“I hate these parties.” Sam tugged at her snug-fitting, black velvet dress.
Faith’s eyes swept the tall, dark stranger standing in the doorway. “Really? I love them.”
“Kissing up to all these snooty people?”
Paddy appeared from behind them, took the coat-check ticket, and slipped it into his jacket pocket before giving Sam a parental glare.
“They’re called sponsors, Samantha.” His words rolled deeply, the rs ringing with the thick brogue still imbedded from his Irish homeland.
“Sponsors. Right.” She rolled her eyes. “More like silver-spoon-fed snobs.”
“The more silver, the better,” Faith quipped, still eyeing the stranger, who was now reciprocating.
“If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”
With the girls flanking him, Paddy put a hand on the back of each one of them and guided them into the main room. “Now put on those beautiful smiles and keep us in business.”
“But Daddy, I thought I’d get a drink first,” Faith said.
Paddy eyeballed the stranger she’d set her sights on. “They’re mine for now, young man. Go find yourself a drink elsewhere,” he said, waving him off. It was common knowledge that when it came to parties, Faith had a bad habit of over-indulging.
* * *
Sam sipped her champagne and smiled each time Paddy introduced her to someone new. Being ushered from sponsor to sponsor was just part of the game, and she was required to play along. Faith had managed to break away for a bit to hook up with the stranger at the bar, but Sam had been stuck with Paddy since she’d arrived.
“Ah, here’s another one of our gracious hosts, now.” He reached out and offered a large burly man his hand. “Samantha, this is John Weston from Weston Meats.”
Sam offered her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“My pleasure.” He took it gently and raised it to his lips. “Such soft hands for a technician.”
Sam smiled. “This is a lovely party, Mr. Weston.”
“John, please.”
“John.” She smiled as she dropped her chin. “Thank you so much for your support.” Sam didn’t like schmoozing with the sponsors, but she was very good at it.
John stopped one of the waiters as they went by and took a toothpick-skewered smoked sausage off of the tray. “Have you tried our new crispy critters?”
“Not yet.” She feigned a smile. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Oh, come on. Just try one. They’re good little things, if I do say so myself.” He held it up with the toothpick, staring at it as if it were a prized child.
She politely took it and bit a small piece off the end.
“Pop the whole thing in.” He guided her hand to her mouth. “That’s the best way.”
Reluctantly opening her mouth, she smiled, letting her teeth clamp around the toothpick as she slid it out. She immediately exchanged her empty glass of champagne for a full one from a passing tray and washed the vile taste from her mouth. First it was meatballs, then beef tips, and now pork sausage. Being a pesco-vegetarian by choice, she’d managed to keep the red meat to a minimum, but her stomach had already begun doing flip-flops at all the foreign foods she’d introduced to it tonight. Business was business, and Paddy would have a fit if she turned her nose up at any sponsor’s product.
“Is that your new backup driver over there?” John motioned to Drew on the other side of the dance floor.
Sam’s interest was piqued, but she didn’t turn.
His smile broadened. “She sure seems to know what side her bread is buttered on.”
Sam couldn’t resist turning slightly to see what John was talking about. When she saw he was referring to the beautiful tall blonde Drew was dancing with, an unexpected wave of jealousy whipped through her.
“For the moment anyway.” Sam glanced back at Paddy and could see he’d caught the fire in her eyes.
“She’s got good taste. You have to give her that,” John said, giving the blonde the once-over.
“Maybe too good for her own welfare.” Paddy chuckled.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to go freshen up.” Shaken by the surge of adrenaline rising inside, Sam took off across the room.
After passing Drew and her mystery date, Sam peeked over her shoulder. She stumbled when she ran smack-dab into the man in front of her.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, quickly wiping the droplets of champagne from his lapel.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he said, giving her a huge smile.
Seeing his round, friendly face, she forgot her embarrassment. “Ray.” Her voice squeaked with a mixture of surprise and relief. “I didn’t know you were here.” She smiled, peering around him. “Where’s Jenna?”
“She couldn’t make it.” His eyes swept the floor, revealing the usual timid fashion he embodied. “Not feeling good tonight.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She leaned in to regain eye contact. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”
�
��No.” He smiled. “Just a little touch of the flu.”
“Give her my best, will you?”
“Sure thing.”
She glanced back over her shoulder to see Drew’s dance partner heading toward the ladies’ room. “Will you excuse me a minute? I was on my way to freshen up.”
“If you ask me, you’re as fresh as they come.”
“Well, thank you, Ray. You’re a sweetheart.” She instinctively straightened his cockeyed tie before smoothing it inside his jacket. “Is this new?” she asked, noting the elegant feel of the silken tie and cashmere jacket.
“Yeah. You like it?”
“I love it. Save me a dance?” She kissed him on the cheek, then moved around him and headed to the ladies’ room. She slipped through the door just behind the blonde. Trying to find some way to detain her, Sam patiently waited for the two women reapplying their lipstick to exit. She picked up the hand cream, then the tissues. Nothing. Dropping them back onto the gaudy metal tray on the basin, she got an idea.
Sam had accomplished her task and was on her way to the bar when Drew caught her by the arm.
“I knew you’d come.” Drew said, pulling her onto the dance floor. Dancing fast and fluidly, she glided Sam around the floor gracefully until the tempo slowed. Then in one smooth step, Drew had her trapped in her arms, pressed firmly against her. The woman was good at just about everything. “I’m glad you finally snuck away from your father.”
“The ladies’ room is always a good out.”
Drew let her fingers trail down Sam’s spine. “You seem tense.”
Sam avoided eye contact, fighting to suppress the same crazy feelings she’d tried desperately to ignore for the past few days.
“More tense than usual.” Drew smiled and ventured closer, pressing her cheek to the side of Sam’s head, immersing herself in the untamed curls surrounding it.
Sam kept her body stiff and unyielding, trying to maintain her distance. “I don’t like this game you’re playing with me.” She didn’t smile as she stared into Drew’s eyes, letting her know she was dead serious.
“No more games. I promise.”
Sam relaxed and let her body meld to Drew’s. She took in a deep breath, and her head filled with the light, simple scent she emitted. The same scent she remembered from the night they met. Baby powder. No loud, overpowering cologne like most of her suitors. She smelled soft and comfortable, and the aroma excited her, in an odd sort of way. It was getting harder to be near Drew each day.
Drew’s hand roamed the small of her back, drifting lightly across the top of her ass, and Sam’s breath caught. She had to get away from her before things spun out of control again.
“Why don’t we sit this one out?” She tried to pry herself away.
“We’re just getting started.” Drew held on tight, moving her to the music.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the fuming blonde she’d locked in the bathroom. Burying her face in the crook of Drew’s neck, she settled back into her and watched the blonde cross the dance floor.
* * *
Jade sat next to Tommy, moving to the slow, jazzy beat. Watching Sam cling to Drew on the dance floor made her stomach twist. She knew her sister’s death wasn’t Drew’s fault, but seeing her with another woman wasn’t natural.
A tall, dark-haired man crossed Jade’s field of vision, stopped in front of her, and blocked her view. Still concentrating on Drew, she shifted her gaze around him.
“You want to dance?”
“No thanks,” she said without looking up.
“You can if you want,” Tommy said.
She glanced at the man with the dark features and chiseled chin. “I said, no thanks.”
Tommy slid his palm across her bare shoulder and down her back until she felt him slip his thumb just under the edge of her red halter dress. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine right where I am.”
“How about Ray?” He motioned across the room with his hand. “I’m sure he’d be happy to take you for a spin.”
Jade drew her brows together as she twisted around to face Tommy. “Trying to get rid of me?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Just thought you might like to dance.”
She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “If I wanted to dance, I’d take you back to the hotel room and do it just for you.”
Tommy’s cheeks flushed, and his smile widened as he glared up at the stranger. “Take off, buddy. She’s with me.”
“How about me? Would it be all right if I stole a dance?” a deep familiar voice asked.
Dad? Jade hopped up quickly
“What are you doing here?” She scanned the room for a sign of more police presence. “Are you working?” she asked, lowering her voice.
He whisked her out onto the dance floor. “Nope. Tonight I’m an invited guest.”
“You got an invitation to this party?”
“I finagled an invitation. I saw they put Thompson on your case and thought I’d check in on you to make sure everything is all right.”
“Everything’s fine, Dad. You know I can take care of myself.”
“I do know that.” He glanced at Drew, and she saw his jaw clench.
“It wasn’t her fault, Dad.”
“She should have been there with your sister.”
“She’s still fighting her own demons about that.”
“I hope so.” His voice was strained.
“You need to let it go.”
“I just don’t trust her.”
Jade tilted her head. “You never did tell me what happened the night Drew got shot.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“But you were on the case, weren’t you?”
“Yes, but she chose not to wait for me that night. They went in alone, and her partner died because Drew was too cocky for her own good.”
She got the feeling her father was keeping something from her. “How do you know Ship didn’t make the call?” Craig Shipley was a senior officer and had been Drew’s partner for the better part of ten years. Jade knew if they went in without backup, Ship was probably the one who gave the order.
“I just know.” Jade saw something in her father’s eyes she didn’t like, something that looked like satisfaction. Was he glad Drew had been hurt?
Since her father’s transfer to Internal Affairs, communication between them had been sparse. Jade knew Internal Affairs was investigating Drew for drug trafficking before the shooting. Being under suspicion is just part of the job when you work in narcotics. When they’d questioned her, she hadn’t given them any information they didn’t already have, but her father thought she should’ve cooperated more.
Jade had followed the code. When Drew denied being involved, Jade backed her up. But one question still nagged at her. What else had happened that night? Something had. She could feel it in her gut, but Drew maintained she’d told her everything.
“Listen. I didn’t come here to talk about Thompson.”
“What did you come for?”
“You haven’t been home for six months. Your mother’s been worried.”
“Seriously?” She smiled. No matter what story he made up, her father would never tell her mom she’d been out of touch for six months.
“Okay. I was worried,” he said, giving someone across the room a nod.
Jade turned to see who it was. Catching Ray in her line of sight, he raised his glass and smiled. “You know Ray?”
“No. Just fending off a tasteless stare.”
“From Ray? Are you sure it’s me that has his interest and not the redhead in the velvet dress?”
“That guy’s had his eyes glued to you since you got up.”
Glancing back at Ray, she noted his gaze was nowhere close to her.
“Well, I’d better get back to my date,” she said as the music trailed to an end.
“You going to introduce me?”
“That’s probably not a good idea
. I mean, with the case and all. Seeing as you’re a cop, I’ve been avoiding the parent subject.” That had just become harder to do. Tommy would definitely have some questions for her now.
He squeezed her shoulder. “Come by and see me sometime. Let me know how things are going.”
She nodded and then headed back to Tommy, already regretting the lie she’d planned to tell him.
* * *
By the time Sam saw Brad arrive, she was tucked tightly in Drew’s arms on the dance floor. The funny thing was she didn’t care if Brad was watching her every move, but this spot in Drew’s warm gentle grasp was getting way too comfortable.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned, welcoming the interruption. It was Paddy, who’d brought her another sponsor to charm. She glanced over at the bar and saw Brad already downing a string of shots. That wasn’t the kind of impression he needed to make at this particular party. Managing to set Paddy’s focus on Drew, Sam snuck away to get Brad under control.
She caught his eye as the bartender poured him another shot of whiskey, Brad’s usual poison. He downed it and slid the glass back to the bartender. She heard him order another as she moved down the bar to join him.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
He cocked his head but didn’t smile. “Having a good time?”
“Not really. You know I don’t like these things.” She smiled at the bartender. “Water, please.”
“So you were just suffering out there on the dance floor?” His tone matched his hardened stare.
“She asked, and I accepted.” Her response was as blunt as the question. “Is that a problem?” She caught him glancing across the room at Drew. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” Catching her tongue between her teeth, she let out a short breath. The man had never shown any sign of it before.
Brad’s stare darted back to hers. “You’re free to dance with track-trash, if you want.”
“Me and track-trash?” she blurted before clamping her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time or the place to discuss either one of their choices in bed partners.