Read It Should Be a Crime Online

Authors: Carsen Taite

It Should Be a Crime (18 page)

BOOK: It Should Be a Crime
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Turning to Morgan, she asked, “Are you all right?”

Morgan shoved her away. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you know who he was?”

Surprise at Morgan’s reaction rendered Parker incapable of response.

“Parker, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Parker at once felt stupid and angry. “I thought you were in trouble and I stepped in to help. I’m sorry.” She was and she wasn’t. Theodore Burke was crazy. His bizarre behavior was not a very well kept secret among those on the force. Family money can cover up a lot of things, but when you have to use it as hush money, the word inevitably gets out. She was sorry Morgan was mad, but she wasn’t sorry she had interfered.

“After that little display, I think we can both count on being called on the carpet tomorrow. He is Camille Burke’s brother.”

Parker nodded. “I know.”

“Then you must know his reaction to having the law school he helps fund defend the man accused of killing his sister.”

“You mean his family helps fund.”

“What?”

Parker delivered her assessment confidently. “His family. Theodore Burke has never worked a day in his life. He sees any part of the Burke fortune spent to make this college a better place as an erosion of his inheritance. If Teddy Burke had anything to do with it, we’d be sitting on the floor and reading from stone tablets.”

Morgan contemplated Parker from across the room. Her eyes still shone bright with anger from the confrontation and she was poised as if ready for a fight. She was sleek and sure and sexy as hell.
Great,
she thought,
Parker’s going to get you kicked off the faculty and all you can think of is how her taut and ready body would feel sprawled on your desk.
Morgan grabbed her purse and briefcase and walked to the door. “He was a bit creepy, but I’m sure there’s going to be hell to pay later.” She pointed at the open door. “It’s been a long day. Let’s call it a night and we can talk about this more Monday.”

Parker reached for Morgan’s bags while she locked up and walked alongside her toward the faculty parking lot. When they reached her car, Morgan turned to face her.

“Whether it was warranted or not, I appreciate the rescue attempt. Have a good evening.”

Parker didn’t move. “I think I should follow you home.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

Parker looked confused for a moment before she realized the implication of her remark. “No, no. I only want to make sure you aren’t followed.”

Morgan dipped toward disappointment, but she recovered quickly. “Please, Parker, I think I can handle myself. Do you actually think Teddy Burke is lurking in the shadows ready to follow me home?”

“Maybe. Would it kill you to trust my instincts on this?” Parker wore her fighter look again, but this time it was Morgan she looked ready to take on. “My car’s around the corner. Drop me off and let me follow you home. I promise once you’re safely inside, I’ll go quietly into the night.”

Morgan examined her words and caught a wistful undercurrent to the commanding tone. She was naturally stubborn and unwilling to admit she wasn’t perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Letting Parker assume the role of her protector even if it was only for a short drive across town would surely undermine her authority.
Now you’re kidding yourself. As if you have any authority over this woman who has made you come more times in the past few weeks than you did in the entire time you were with Tina.
Grasping at a semblance of control, Morgan spoke.

“Fine. But you won’t go quietly into the night.” Morgan pointed to the open door of her Lexus. “Get in.” She started the SUV and drove to Parker’s Mustang, parked at the rear of the student lot. Avoiding Parker’s eyes, she said, “I need a drink and I want you to join me.” Catching the veiled look of surprise on Parker’s face, she added, “I’m living at the Hotel Palomar. Leave your car with the valet.” As Morgan sped toward the hotel, she wondered if she was speeding toward disaster.

Chapter Eleven

The Hotel Palomar was a swanky place and Parker was uncomfortably conscious of her attire. Levi’s and a T-shirt were perfect for all of her usual haunts—school, bar, library, dive restaurants—but not here where the rich and pretty gathered to celebrate their wealth and beauty. When she carried a badge, she didn’t much care how she looked in relation to where she was or where she wanted to go. The shine of her gold shield granted her entrance to venues denied to many. Without the shield, she sometimes felt naked. This was one of those times.
Fake it,
she told herself.

Tossing the keys to the valet, she told him to keep her car ready to go, she might need to leave in a hurry. Smothering a grin at his curious stare, she strode through the heavy draped curtains and into Morgan’s boutique home.

“May I help you, ma’am?”

Parker turned to the bellman who approached. She nodded. “The bar?”

“This way, ma’am.”

She followed him. At first she was annoyed at being led around, but when she saw Morgan seated alone at the glass and chrome hotel bar, she was grateful to the human shield for hiding the spark of her initial reaction. Morgan’s hair was tossed back and the red highlights glinted in the shiny bar. Parker could see every inch of her long, lean legs. Her suit jacket was slung on the back of her chair and the sight of her bare arms caused Parker to catch her breath. She had seen Morgan without a speck of clothing, but hints of Morgan’s skin in fine fabric seemed to turn her on even more than full exposure.

Morgan was reading from a tiny bar menu and Parker was certain she did not see her approach. She was surprised when Morgan spoke to her before she even reached the table.

“Scotch, single malt?”

“Oh, first you order me here, then you order my drink.”

“Problem?”

Parker slid into the seat beside Morgan and snatched the menu from her grasp. “No, not a problem.” Scanning the menu, she continued, “You pick my drink and I’ll pick yours.” Running her finger down the page, she read the entries. “If I’m a single malt Scotch, then what must you be?”

Morgan eyed Parker, her student, and wondered why she invited her here. They were flirting, as she must have known they would. Driving around quiet neighborhoods looking at real estate was one thing, but sitting closely in a high-toned bar was a completely different matter. She relished Parker’s grin as she perused the drink menu in search of the perfect cocktail. Her dark, wavy hair fell in scattered strands across her brow. Morgan desperately wanted to reach over and brush away the strands of wayward hair. A simple gesture, but she held back because of their relative position. Did she think she would find a loss of restraint in alcohol?

“Ah, here we go. A Manhattan. A metropolitan drink for the high-powered city lawyer.” Without waiting for a response, Parker flagged down the cocktail waitress and ordered a Manhattan for Morgan and a Macallan, neat, for herself.

“High-powered city lawyer? At the moment, I’m a humble college professor.”

Parker laughed. “In three years of law school, I don’t think I’ve ever met a humble professor. I suppose there’s a first for everything.”

Morgan feigned hurt. “So you think I’m conceited?”

Parker searched Morgan’s eyes and found sincerity behind the question. The hurt on her face might be a put-on, but on some level she needed reassurance.
Interesting,
Parker thought,
I would have never guessed she ever doubted herself.
Parker placed her hand on Morgan’s. “I think you’re confident. And with good reason. You have an amazing track record as a trial attorney and you’re an amazing teacher.” She gave Morgan an earnest look before continuing. “And I think you’re amazing for a variety of other reasons.”

As Morgan shifted on her seat Parker withdrew her hand, wondering if she had gone too far.
She invited me here—for drinks, after all. If anyone is blurring the lines, it’s not me.
She was about to deliver some equivocation when Morgan reached across the table for her hand.

“Well, Parker Casey, I think you’re pretty amazing too. For a variety of reasons.”

Parker pushed the point. “I feel as if we’re crossing certain lines here. Lines you seemed to think were very important not so long ago.”

“I see. Too many mixed messages?”

“It’s only an observation. I’m not necessarily complaining.” Parker had her own reservations about taking whatever it was they were doing any further. Before she could give the idea much consideration, Morgan pressed on.

“I can’t explain this, but I want to get to know you better. You have many layers, Parker Casey.”

Parker smiled. “More than you thought when you were having a one-night stand with the bartender, right?”

“Ouch.” Morgan frowned and Parker was instantly sorry for the remark.

“Sorry. I suppose that constituted an unnecessary dig. But I am terribly curious about why you were lost in the alley.” Parker hadn’t realized it until that very moment, but she was indeed curious about why a successful, good-looking woman like Morgan had been standing alone in the dark by a Dumpster. When she met Morgan again, she was too stunned by the realization she was her professor to give much thought to the logistics of their one-night stand.

Morgan took a long drink from her Manhattan and stared at Parker as if trying to read her thoughts. Seconds felt like minutes before she broke her gaze, looking down at her drink. She fished a cherry from the glass and twirled it on the end of her swizzle stick. Parker waited with a cop’s patience. Finally, Morgan stopped playing with her drink, ate the cherry, and downed the rest. She signaled the waitress for another round before she spoke.

“I’ve been staying here since I moved to Dallas.”

Parker waited, certain the story was longer than those few words.

“I moved to Dallas because my partner, and I don’t mean law partner, of ten years was offered a great opportunity to turn around a tech company.”

Parker waited still, calling all her powers of concentration to bear in order to keep Morgan from seeing her stiffen at the mention of a partner.
Where is she going with this?

“Tina moved here a couple of months before me. She came early to buy us a new house while I dealt with all the details of getting our home back East sold, packed, and shipped. I finished with time to spare and decided to show up a week early as a surprise. I got to the house late in the evening, but Tina wasn’t in. There were a few messages on the answering machine, and from what I could tell, a group of her new Dallas friends were heading out to the bar and wanted her to come along. I had it partly right.

“I decided my early arrival would be an even better surprise if I showed up at the bar. Tina was always bitching that I never cut loose, so I decided to sex up my look. You remember the low-riding jeans, halter top, the fuck-me shoes?” Parker nodded. “Well, that outfit is not my normal fare. In fact, I rarely go to bars at all. I just thought…” Morgan’s voice trailed off. Parker waited while Morgan took a drink of her Manhattan and fiddled with the ice in her glass. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Tina and I spent the last ten years going our separate ways. I suppose I thought the move to Dallas would be a step back toward each other. I was wrong.

“I took a cab to the bar, sure I would have a ride home at the end of the night. I went in, got a drink, and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. I was sitting at the bar, sipping on one of these,” Morgan held up her new drink, “when I saw them. Tina and what had to be a model melded together on the dance floor. The music was fast, but they didn’t seem to notice the beat, or anything else for that matter. They were practically wearing each other’s clothes, they were so close. In ten years of living together, Tina never kissed me like that, never looked at me with that much longing in her eyes. To tell the truth, she could probably say the same for me. Later, I realized seeing her direct that much passion toward someone else was exactly what I needed to finally make the break I knew was best. But when I saw her wrapped around that woman, all I could think of in that moment was getting out of there with some of my dignity intact. They had danced their way into the path of the front door, so I headed for the only other exit I could find.”

“And wound up in the alley.”

Morgan smiled ruefully. “I’ve had better exit strategies.”

“What were you going to do if I hadn’t come along?”

“Scale a fence, call a cab, find a place to sleep for the night. Wake up, dust myself off, and start over.”

“Regrets?”

Morgan felt the weight within the question, and carefully considered her answer. “None that mattered at the time. You were everything I needed. White knight, passionate lover, gorgeous woman. I decided right then I could feel sorry for myself or I could make the best of a bad situation. I sought solace with you and you didn’t even know you were salve for my wounded ego.” Morgan reached across the table. “I’m sorry. I suppose I used you, and on some level I feel bad about it.”

As Parker listened to Morgan’s story of her first day living back in the city where she grew up, her stiffness melted. Morgan’s telling was straightforward and even self-deprecating, but it invited comfort and affection, which Parker desperately wanted to give. As she listened, she realized in a way she already had, even if it wasn’t the kind she felt she should offer now. Their first meeting had been about physical need, satisfaction. What she felt now was different. Now she wanted to hold Morgan in her arms and tell her she was beautiful, tell her she was amazing, tell her she was cared for.

BOOK: It Should Be a Crime
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