by Julie Miller
There was no hesitation to her kisses, either. She swirled her tongue inside his mouth, whispered his name against his lips and pulled her body into his. He went nearly mindless as the thrusting tips of her lush breasts branded him through the layers of clothing they wore. He needed more. He needed her. She wanted contact. So did he.
“Arms around my neck,” he ordered, gentling the command with a kiss.
When she shifted her grip on him, Conor tightened his arms around her. He palmed her sweet round rump and lifted Laura off the floor, taking all her weight as she fell against him, flattening all those curves against the hard need of his body. Heat matched heat as her legs wrapped around him, infusing him with a strength that made it easy to hold her against him with one hand. The other snuck beneath her shirt again, palming the straight line of her back, sliding around to capture the heavy weight of her breast through its satin and lace casing. When he caught the pearled nipple between his hand and thumb, Laura gasped into his mouth. Then she rested her forehead against his neck, proudly pushing the eager flesh into his hand even as she sighed with pleasure against his skin.
“Are we really doing this?” she whispered.
That was his intention. Conor was gauging the shorter distance to the sofa or kitchen counter where he could set her down and get more of these clothes out of the way when his phone rang.
Conor swore. He kissed her again, apologizing for the foul word so close to her lips. “I’m sorry, honey.” His back pocket rang again. “It startled me.”
“It’s okay.” She straightened her legs, eased her grip on his shoulders, and his body felt a chill at the loss of her wrapped around him. “Reality sucks, huh? Maybe we should think about this, anyway.”
“Maybe we should.” Was that what she wanted? What did he want?
Ring.
Her lips were rosy and swollen with the stamp of his lips, the delicate skin around her mouth abraded with the scratch of his beard stubble. Her eyes looked as dazed as he felt when she looked up at him. “You are one hell of a good kisser, Conor Wildman.”
Her smile felt like a reward, and Conor was eager to earn as many of those as he could. “So are you.”
She was standing on her own two feet when it rang a fourth time. “You’d better get that.”
He pulled the phone from his pocket. Thomas Watson’s name flashed on the screen. “I do need to take this,” Conor apologized, planting one last kiss on Laura’s lips.
She reached up to smooth the hair she’d raked out of place before backing away. Was she okay? Had he gone too far? Had he not gone far enough? She pointed to his phone when it rang again. “He’s your friend in Kansas City?” He nodded. “Would you like some coffee while you talk to him?”
“Yeah. Coffee would be good.” Or a stiff drink. Or getting his head examined.
While she walked into the kitchen, he answered Thomas’s call. “Wildman. Thanks for getting back—”
“What the hell do you mean sending me something like that, and then not answering your damn phone?” Thomas’s tone was a mix of joking and concern. “You’re supposed to be on vacation, visiting your old hometown. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
Thomas had more connections and wisdom about the job than any detective Conor knew. If anyone could get the answers he needed without raising a red flag that would jeopardize Laura’s safety here in Virginia, Thomas could.
He strode across the living room. Sitting was out of the question for the moment, until he got getting Laura naked off his mind and got his head back in the detective game. “We have to work on your timing, Thomas.”
Sometime later, Conor was jotting notes at Laura’s desk and wrapping up the conversation with Thomas when she sat on the leather ottoman beside him. She’d given up pretending to read a magazine over on the couch. She’d been hanging on to his every word, and now she was craning her neck around his shoulder to see his scribbles on the notepad. Grinning at her ceaseless curiosity, he scooted the pad in front of her, so she could read the information Thomas had been able to find out already.
Laura’s phone? Different call/text number each time. Disposable cells? Pro.
Identity of dead woman? Running missing persons search.
Chloe Wilson—death listed as suspicious, under investigation, Arlington County sheriff’s department. No other info. Short-staffed? Incompetence? Cover-up?
Vinnie—extensive record: petty crimes, drugs, court-ordered rehab/no hard time.
Father deceased. No record of mother’s death. Remarried? No Mona Orlando in VA or DC area. “Mommy”?
Conor let her decode the information for herself while he shared some of his suspicions with Thomas. “I don’t know if Vinnie comes from organized crime or old money or what—but keeping this video out of Mommy’s hands seems to be the key to the blackmail. Orlando’s got an attorney named Marvin Boltz. Maybe he actually works for Mommy and is keeping an eye on Vinnie for her.”
“Marvin Boltz.” Thomas’s deep, patient voice repeated the name as he took down the information. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything else.”
“Anything you can tell me about Cobb is priority one. I need to know who I can trust around here.”
“Got it. Conor?”
“Yes, sir?” He heard the paternal warning in Thomas’s tone, and felt heartened by it, rather than defensive. His own father hadn’t been around to tell him when he was doing something stupid or dangerous. And though Thomas wasn’t going to change Conor’s mind on this plan of action, he appreciated that the older man cared enough to remind him of the risk he was taking.
“You’re off the books with this one—interviewing suspects on a case that isn’t yours? Not reporting the stalking incidents to the local authorities? Stealing evidence from a crime scene?”
“Technically, it wasn’t stealing. Laura had a key. The victim directed her to take possession of it.”
He could imagine Thomas shaking his head. “You won’t win that argument in front of a judge.”
“I don’t have to. I just need enough intel to identify where the threat is coming from, so I can protect Laura. It’ll be somebody else’s case to prosecute.”
“What about interfering with another jurisdiction’s investigation? Even if your deputy is part of this, not every cop on the force there is. They won’t appreciate you taking down one of their own or giving them any bad press. Is this woman worth your career?”
Conor bumped Laura’s shoulder with his to get her to look up at him. He smiled. “Yes.”
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. Be careful. I’ve gotten used to having you around.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“You’d better.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed with unspoken questions as he ended the call. She knew he’d been talking about her but couldn’t figure out what he’d admitted to Thomas. He still needed some time to adjust to the idea himself, and then decide how he was going to deal with it. He didn’t have a good track record with relationships. And though Laura had made it clear enough that she was attracted to him, too, and knew she cared about him on some level, did he want to risk losing what they had by pushing for something more? Could they be happy enough in the short term that if it didn’t work out, he’d be left with a good memory instead of the soul-rotting guilt that he’d destroyed their friendship?
“What?”
Conor had to look away from the question in those sweet hazel eyes. He didn’t know the answer himself yet.
Since he wasn’t forthcoming, she picked up their coffee mugs and returned to the kitchen. “You think that was Cobb in the video, too, don’t you. This morning, he acted like he expected to find more than that letter inside the package. Do you think he knows about the flash drive? Could he be the one calling and texting me?”
Right. The investig
ation was a lot easier to talk about than his feelings, or where that kiss had been leading, so Conor tucked the notes inside his pocket and followed her. “It’s a logical deduction even for Cobb to make. It explains why Chloe’s computer and phone were taken. The killer was looking for the video.”
“He gives me the creeps.” She loaded the mugs into the dishwasher before turning off the coffee maker. They’d probably drunk enough coffee today to keep them awake for three more days. But fighting their mutual caffeine addiction wasn’t the reason she’d paused with the half-full pot over the sink. “Downstairs at the mailbox, he grabbed me when my thoughts wandered off—”
“Did he hurt you?” Conor was at her side in an instant, wanting to read the truth in her eyes, hating the idea of the deputy’s beefy hands on Laura’s perfect, petite body.
“No.” She inhaled a deep breath of the toasty, rich brew before dumping it down the sink. “He smells bad, though. Way too much cologne. I don’t know any woman who thinks that’s sexy. Maybe he knows his charm’s no good and he’s overcompensating.” He grinned at that. Good. She was making a joke. Cobb hadn’t scared her too much. But something had. And he didn’t think it was that kiss. “Speaking of cologne...” Her gaze lingered at the middle of his chest before she tilted her eyes to his. “I think someone was in my apartment last night. After we left the cemetery. While we were at Mom and Dad’s eating dinner.”
“When were you going to tell me that?” She’d had a break-in, and was just now mentioning it? “With everything that’s been going on the past few days, you didn’t think to lead any one of our conversations today with that bit of news?”
She raised her hands, patting his chest like he was her nephew who could be appeased with a toy truck, trying to soothe the concern that had sparked his temper. “The clues were there—I just didn’t see it. Nothing’s been taken. There were a few things rearranged in my desk. I thought I was brain-dead from a lack of sleep, and that I’d imagined it. I smelled something foreign in here earlier, too.” She pulled her hands away to hug her arms around her waist. “They searched my apartment, didn’t they?”
Hell. Even if it was a “There, there, baby boy” pat, he craved that contact with her if only to reassure himself that she was okay. Conor reached for her. “I told you to call me if anything seemed hinky to you.”
She swatted his hand away and retreated from him. “Everything seems hinky to me now.”
“I need you to look again. Are you sure nothing is missing?”
“There wasn’t anything to take.” She hurried into the living room and brushed her hand across his coat, where he’d put the flash drive. “I didn’t have that video until just before you got here. If they searched, they didn’t find anything.”
He was scaring her, making her run from him. Conor planted his feet on the rug and let her pace. He inhaled a deep breath, cooling his tone if not his suspicion. “You don’t have a landline, do you?”
She shook her head.
“Maybe they came in to bug your phone. When that didn’t work, they left.” When she moved closer to the door, he went to the window to peek through the blinds and survey the vehicles on the street below, and all the windows across the street with easy access to view her apartment. “Have you seen anyone outside, watching the building?”
She waited a beat too long for him to know he wasn’t going to like her answer. “Only Deputy Cobb. But he was waiting for the envelope. He hasn’t been back since...”
Her skin went pale beneath her freckles, and the dimple of that worry frown reappeared on her forehead. Conor reached her in three long strides. “What is it?”
She reached into the back pocket of her jeans. “My phone just vibrated with another text. I’m afraid to read it.” She swiped the photo off the lock screen and flinched. “It’s his number.”
When she tried to hand the phone off to him, he caught her hand before she could let go. “I’m right here, honey. We need to see what it says.”
She punched the button to open the text, then quickly wrapped her arms around his waist and read it from the corner of her eye. As if a sideways glance could lessen the impact of the threat Conor held in his hand.
You can’t hide from me, Laura. I know you found it. You just signed your death warrant. At first, all I wanted was that flash drive. But now I’m coming for you.
There’s no place you can hide.
Not even your boyfriend can save you now.
Conor swore. Forget keeping his distance. Whoever was behind this had all the advantages. He needed to change the odds into Laura’s favor. He stuffed her phone into his own pocket and tugged on her hand, pulling her down the hallway to her bedroom. “Pack a bag. You’re coming with me.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
“I’m not asking.” He opened her closet door and found her suitcase. He tossed it onto the bed. “You got anything smaller?”
She nudged him aside to unzip the suitcase and pull out a matching overnight bag. “Where am I going? How long am I going to be gone?”
“Mom’s house for now. As long as it takes. My old bedroom is still set up for when I visit. I can sleep on the couch.”
“I’m couch-sized. I’ll sleep there,” she offered. Her hands were shaking as she packed clothes and toiletries. “Even if I gave them that flash drive now, they’d want to kill me because I’ve watched it. I’m connected to Chloe. They have no idea how much she told me. I’m a loose end.” She pulled a pair of boots out of her closet to add to the bag. “Is it wrong to wish Isaac had lost his temper and hurt her? That she was a victim of domestic violence and not...” She spun to face him. “Am I going to be another dead woman in a trunk somewhere?”
“I won’t let them hurt you.” Conor tunneled his fingers into her hair and tilted her face up to his. “I’m with you 24/7 now.”
“Until you leave town again. What if the cops never catch those men? What do I do then?”
Her lack of faith in him hurt worse than any abandonment he’d felt with Lisa or his father. “I’m not leaving until this is solved. Until I know you’re safe. You’re too important to me to allow anyone to hurt you.”
She evaluated his promise for several seconds before she nodded. “I wish you’d stopped at ‘I’m not leaving.’” She pulled away to zip the bag shut. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
“I told you I’d sleep on the couch.”
Conor tossed a T-shirt into his black leather bag and tried not to make too much of Laura sitting on the edge of the bed where he’d slept the night before. “Hardly seems gentlemanly.”
“Since when were you a gentleman?”
He grinned at the teasing remark, tucking the plastic bag holding the flash drive that had caused all this trouble safely into one of the zippered pockets. “I can be if I try.”
“Don’t knock yourself out on my account.”
Was this just one of their usual tongue-in-cheek exchanges? Or was she hinting that she’d be okay if he stayed right here in the bed with her? She wasn’t making it easy to be a stand-up guy and do the right thing. And he was determined to do the right thing by Laura, no matter what happened over the next few days or hours or however long they had to be together like this.
His body hummed with awareness of the tension underlying the playful banter. “Sounds like it might be safer out in the other room.”
“Safer for whom?”
He laughed out loud at that taunt, mostly because pushing her down on the mattress and finishing what they’d started earlier at her apartment was the only other option he could think of at the moment. His laughter quickly faded, though, when she didn’t join in.
The cheeseburgers, fries and sodas they’d gotten on the way here, plus the extra distance from her apartment and the chance to explain the situation to her parents and arrange for them to take some precautions had gone a l
ong way to restore Laura’s spirit, if not her cheerful outlook on her immediate future. He retrieved his toiletry kit from the adjoining bathroom and added them to the bag, too. His suit, tie and dress shoes could stay in the closet. He wouldn’t need them for sleeping or for running, should her texting tormentor make good on his vow to silence her, and a quick escape proved necessary.
“I’m not too sure your father was thrilled to learn how involved I’ve gotten with his youngest daughter. He seems to think that you should still be playing up in that tree house, not sleeping with a grown man in a house that has only one bed. We may have talked them into leaving town for a few days, but a dad’s a dad.” Next, he added the spare ammunition boxes for both his service Glock and the Beretta strapped to his ankle. “When they get home, I’d like to at least be able to tell him that I tried to keep my distance.”
She got up and turned away from him as soon as the hardware came out, feigning a sudden interest in exploring the bedroom that had been his before he’d gone off to college and gotten his own place. “Dad likes you.”
“As a family friend—not as the guy puttin’ the moves on his baby girl.” He zipped the bag shut. “Besides, I prefer to be between you and the front door, if somebody tries to break in.”
And there the joking ended.
Her back stiffened before she reached out to touch the double-globed lamp painted with ornate greenery and daffodils. The smile she turned to give him didn’t reach her eyes. “I remember this. Your mom and mine took a china painting class together one summer.”
“I think every room in the house had a hand-painted lamp as a result. That’s the only one that survived.” He extended his arms out to either side, trying to keep the mood light for her. “You know, teenage boys with long, gangly limbs they can’t always control?”