Charlie's Angel (14 page)

Then she’d seen Rowter walking out from the bus station, brushing his hands together as if wiping them clean of something. His mouth had been set in grim lines, and his eyes had been so cold. As if he’d known she watched him, he looked up at her window. With the icy glare fixated on her, she’d looked quickly away. The bus had continued on its journey but without the rotund man who’d been reading and eating his chips. She’d only pondered for a moment where he’d gone, but once bus drivers took their seats, they didn’t stick around for latecomers. Roxie hadn’t thought about it any more.

Until now.

She had to find Charlie and tell him what she suspected, that she might have been a witness to a murder—after the fact.

Chapter Six

Roxie jerked open the door. Softly, she called out Charlie’s name. The house was utterly silent. The late afternoon sun shone on the wall supporting the staircase. Should she try to find him and risk his getting upset that she left her room? She knew he intended the instructions for her safety, but she’d never been good at following orders. She decided to find him and took a step toward the stairs.

An elongated shadow flitted across the living room windows. Was there someone outside? Should she yell Charlie’s name to sound the alarm? Apparently, the person, whoever it was, was inside. Her hand flew to her throat. Then the shadow turned the corner.

“Oh Charlie,” she breathed on a heavy sigh of relief. “It’s you.”

“I thought I told you to stay in your room.” He glowered at her then quickly strode upstairs with a tray laden with sandwiches, drinks in plastic cups, pickles and bright red apples.

His facial muscles were clenched in hard lines, and he moved with agile grace. Under his jeans, his sculpted thighs made her mouth water.

“I had to tell you something important. I came to look for you,” she mumbled, once again struck by his masculine beauty.

He grumbled to himself and kicked open her door. She followed restlessly. “This isn’t the first time you’re guarding a witness or whatever in a safe house, is it?”

“No. That’s the kind of job that got me through law school.”

“You protected people with a gun?” she asked in disbelief. She couldn’t imagine him shooting anyone.

“I trained with a special unit of the police force in Boston. I never knew who was inside. I just looked out for the elements that didn’t belong.” His tone was all business and reserved. He set the tray on the bed and turned on her. “What did you want to tell me that made you forget my instructions?”

Confrontationally, Roxie straightened her shoulders and stood tall. “This whole thing,” she said, sweeping a hand toward the house but meaning the frightening situation she was in, “messes with my head, with my freedom.”

Charlie pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I get that. What did you want to tell me?”

She sensed he was taking control. She backed down. He was protecting her, wasn’t he? “There was a man on the Greyhound bus. He was a couple of seats in front of me. He’d been reading a mystery novel and eating corn chips before one of the stops, and then he just disappeared.”

Tempted by the sandwiches, she sat on the bed and took one of the diagonally cut pieces in her hand. The bread was fresh, and her fingers made a dent.

She noticed Charlie did the same. His face became impassive and unreadable. “So?”

“Rowter was on the same bus. I don’t know when the man got up. I was solving crossword puzzles, and I fell asleep,” she admitted sheepishly, thinking she should have noted the man’s disappearance and contacted the bus driver to tell him.

Charlie bit into the sandwich, and his strong jaw moved up and down. Roxie’s stomach jolted in admiration. Her companion was so perfect.

“So?” His gaze, still implacable, met hers.

“I remember finishing a puzzle and looking out the bus window. Rowter was coming out of the station, wiping his hands.” She set down her sandwich and demonstrated with a hasty brush of her palms. “It was as if he’d finished a distasteful act, yet was pleased with himself.”

“Did you ever see this man and Rowter talking or socializing on the bus?”

“I don’t know. They sat a few seats above me, and usually the bus was pretty crowded.” She wished she’d been more observant. Could she have saved this man’s life?
No, don’t beat yourself up about this, Roxie. You had no idea.

“Had you seen Rowter or this man, together or separately, at any time before you saw them on the bus? Could they have worked for your father?”

“No to both questions.” She paused, unable to taste what she assumed to be a delicious roast beef and turkey sandwich. “Rowter might have killed that man,” she finally said.

Charlie nodded sagely, giving her the impression he’d guessed as much. “Do you remember at which station this happened?”

She stopped to think. Which one exactly? After a while, the interminable stations in each small town had mixed with one another in her memory. “Early on to mid-way from Maine to L.A.,” she responded with some certainty.

“If this passenger was murdered at a station, there would have to be some record of it.” Charlie retrieved his cell phone and, moments later, was talking succinctly and asking questions of the person on the other end. As she waited, Roxie continued to munch on her sandwich and wash it down with Coke.

Charlie disconnected then took another bite of his sandwich. “What made you travel to L.A. by bus? With money, you can use any mode of transportation you’d like.”

“I figured you’d ask that. Sooner or later.” She dabbed her lips with a paper napkin from the tray. “I could pay the fare in cash and roam at will. No plastic to leave behind to track my whereabouts.”

He nodded, and before he could wipe his mouth, she leaned forward and brushed a few crumbs aside. She was gratified to see his eyes light up. He seized her palm and held her fingers close to his cheek. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Roxie.”

Trembling at his nearness, she gave him a small smile. She wanted him again with a fierceness she couldn’t deny.

“Me, too, but it is what it is.” She reached out and caressed his face, noting the roughness of the shadow beard.

She watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath. Was he trying to steady himself, or was he fighting his attraction to her?

He blinked his lids open. To her consternation, there was determination written in the depths of his steely expression. He hadn’t been thinking of her in an erotic sense. The knowledge disheartened her. She jerked free of his light hold.

“What about you? Why are you a lawyer?”

He pressed his lips together in a grim line. “Fair enough. I know more than you probably want about you. My turn. I grew up in the hood. My mother was killed by a motorcycle gang when I was away from home.”

Shocked, Roxie reached out and touched his arm comfortingly. She realized his memories were deep and painful. “I’m sorry. That’s why you looked at me rather strange when I was in your parking space.”

“Partly.” He bent his head and spoke to the sandwich. “She was all I had. A couple of punks killed her for less than fifty dollars.” He gave a tight laugh, and his gaze caught hers. “Now, I’m a lawyer, fighting to put away those monsters.”

She grimaced. “And here I come along, twice, and scare you into thinking I’m one of them.”

“The first time, but not the second time. You’re different than those cold-hearted bastards.” He cleared his throat. “Do you recall anything about the town or city where the man went missing from the bus? Any unusual road signs, names that you saw, anything at all?”

Back to business.
Averting her gaze from him, Roxie gnawed her lower lip. She had to get her mind off Charlie’s cock and help him find the missing man. Maybe then they could solve why Rowter had waited for so long before coming after her in the alley.

“The whole trip is a blur,” she began, searching her memory again. “I think there was a faded old sign of a bronco bucking its rider off.” She paused, then blurted out, “And maybe a crown made of diamonds, but the letters on the sign were mostly gone.”

Charlie nodded, dug his cell phone out and seconds later, relayed the information to the other person. “Eddie was my law firm’s paralegal before he became a private investigator,” he said, with a grin as he hit the END button. “He’s good at what he does so I put him on a private retainer, and he works exclusively for me.”

“Oh. I was wondering about him.”

“He’s the brother I never had. He can easily find a needle in a haystack.” He lifted the tray and set it on the armchair by the window.

Fascinated, Roxie observed his graceful, powerful movements, and his biceps rippling. When he sat on the bed facing her, her heart began racing.

“It’s hot in here, don’t you think so?” he asked, with a sensual, playful smile. He reached down and pulled the hem of his shirt up his wonderfully molded chest, revealing his very male nipples. Finally, he threw the piece of clothing on the floor at their feet.

Roxie took one look into his eyes and lost herself in their erotic invitation. Her whole body was on fire, just gazing upon his perfection, the tanned skin and the rigid muscles.

“It’s time for sixty-nine,” she whispered boldly, taking in the stunning view Charlie Vernon presented.

She lifted her bottom slightly and slipped out of her panties, watching as his pupils narrowed and his chest began to heave up and down with rasping breaths. “What will you take off next?” she quizzed, hoping for a matching response.

He didn’t reply but, keeping his eyes on her face, unbuckled his belt then unzipped his jeans. With a harsh rasp, they fell to the floor. He kicked them aside.

She couldn’t help herself. Roxie stared and stared at his huge erection bobbing from the waistband of his briefs.

“You’ve the largest penis I’ve ever seen,” she told him, feeling audacious. Feminine power burst through her.

He snorted. “You think so? How many men have you seen almost naked?”

His question was purely rhetorical, but she decided to answer with the same high spirits. “Not many.”

“Are you stalling?” he asked, exaggerating his up and down look at her, encouraging her to remove her dress.

Roxie didn’t hesitate. She was in bad shape wanting him, and the sooner she had him, the quicker she could ease her hunger for him.

Maybe.

Charlie was enthralled and hopelessly lost. If they came out of this alive, he’d make Roxie his sex slave. Although he’d focused on keeping her safe and securing information from Eddie, there hadn’t been one moment when he stopped thinking about her. The liquid blue eyes, the small breasts that fit comfortably against his hands and the exotic taste of her.

She stood before him, wearing nothing more than a white, lacy bra and an enticing smile. Her smell of flowers was slightly overpowered by her musky, sexy scent. He sank to his knees and delicately parted her thighs.

She giggled, slapped his head playfully and danced away on trembling legs. “Sixty-nine is reciprocal. That was not,” she chided lightly.

Charlie almost fell on his face, but he quickly righted himself. “I was about to worship the hard nub of your clit, to suck on the pearl of moisture that must be there.” That sounded corny, but for once, he didn’t care. Roxie was his for the moment, and who knew what tomorrow would bring?

She lay on the bed to rest on her side and lifted herself up on her elbow. “You’re not completely naked,” she reminded him with a twinkle in her eye.