Claiming What's His (11 page)

             
What the hell?  What was she doing back here?

             
She was on the phone with someone, looking like she was arguing – the way her head was down and her arm shook with her phone attached to her ear. 

             
Sam knew she should talk to her.  She didn’t want to but this wasn’t about her.  This was the fundraiser and the missing donation money.  She opened her mouth to call out Lynn’s name but stopped when she heard someone calling her.

             
“Sam, are you okay?  You hurt anywhere?”  Alex slid his hands up and down her arms, then up and down the rest of my body, checking for injuries.

             
“I’m fine.  What do you think you were doing?” she clipped in an angry tone.  He knocked her out of the way and allowed the bad guys to get away with the money so she had every right to be angry.

             
Shocked and not what he expected, his head jerked as if she had lost her mind with what just happened.  He was silent for a bit before he finally answered, “I was trying to save you from getting shot and run over.”  He continued, sarcastically, “
Clearly
, I was wrong.”

             
Sam rolled her eyes.  ”I didn’t say I didn’t need your help.  I was perfectly capable of handling the situation by myself.  And thanks to you, he got away.”

             
She looked into his eyes as his anger built up, “Sam, he shot at you and almost ran you over!  I was trying to save you!  And how do you know it was a he?”

             
“Because, I saw him and he saw me.  As soon as he locked eyes on me, he hightailed out of the parking lot,” she said, pushing him out of the way as she got to her feet and dusted herself off.

             
Sam knew his anger slipped a notched when he asked and his tone returned, “Did you get anything?”

             
“Of course.”

             
Sam remained silent and checked for injuries which didn’t last long. 

             
She felt his glare.  Apparently couldn’t stand the suspense when he blurted, “Are you going to tell me?”

             
“No.” 

             
He moved closer.  “Why not?

             
“Because I can handle it on my –”

             
Before she could finish, he grabbed her hips and pull her to him, bringing his lips down to her, stroking his tongue into her mouth, massaging it against hers.  He brought his hands up against her neck, shifting one in my hair.

             
Man, he tasted great and he was a great kisser.  She thought so ever since middle school.

             
Her head started swimming and right when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back and asked, “What did you see, Sam?”

             
Without thinking, her lips moved and answered him, “Two accomplices.  One Caucasian male.  Driver.  Glasses.  Age between twenty-five and forty.  Dark pants and black boots.  Passenger unknown.”  

             
Stop!
  Her head shouted.

             
“And the car?”

             
Stop!  

             
Red, red, red!  

             
Alert, alert!

             
Sam shook her head for about three nanoseconds when his lips hit hers again and he sucked down her tongue.                It wasn’t a gentle kiss.  It was a hard, knee wobbling kiss.

             
And she loved it.

             
He released and muttered, “Sam, car.”

             
Her lips ignored her brain when she replied, “Dark Pontiac Grand AM.  Not one-hundred percent sure of the color.  Tinted windows.”

             
“That’s it?”

             
Before she could say anything else, she heard her name being shouted again, “Sam!”

             
Still dazed, Sam turned and saw Mitch running towards her through the crowd that was now appearing from the inside.  Her head screamed ‘get away’, but her body didn’t quite follow. 

             
Finally, her body caught up with her brain as she tore her body from Alex’s hold and narrowed her eyes to see him.  His grin appeared.  

             
He used his kisses as a weapon!  

             
Beware for next time!  

             
Wait,
will
there be a next time?

             
No, definitely not a next time.

             
“Sam!”  Mitch ran up to her, with George and Roy behind him, as he engulfed her in a hug, his hands patting down her back as if checking to see whether all of her body was still intact. 

             
“Are you okay, baby girl?”

             
“I’m fine, Dad.  He missed,” Sam replied, trying to lighten the mood.  

             
It didn’t work.

             
Mitch’s eyes were swimming, and tears pooled at the corners.  

             
He was worried.

             
She embraced him again, pressing her face against his chest as she whispered, “I’m okay, Daddy.”

             
He kissed her head and muttered back, “I know.  I know this is what you do now, but I still can’t help it.  You’re my baby girl.”

             
Somewhere behind her, Roy said, “I hate to interrupt, but I have to ask –”

             
Alex answered before Roy finished, repeating what she said, verbatum, “Dark Pontiac Grand AM.  Two accomplices.  One Caucasian male.  Driver.  Glasses.  Age between twenty-five and forty.  Dark pants, black boots.  Passenger unknown.”

             
Sam looked up and added, “There was also a female. Long dark hair in a ponytail.  I don’t have a description, but as soon as the car rounded the building, I saw her running towards the car with a gun in her hands.”

             
“That would be Cynthia Cahill from Dallas.  She’s a detective at Dallas PD.  She had just arrived for the fundraiser when she saw what happened and tried chasing the car.  When she got back, she ran inside to get us.”

             
Sam pulled back slightly, looking behind Mitch to see a gorgeous leggy, brunette talking to Chuck. 

             
“Cahill, from Dallas.  Why does that name sound familiar to me?”

             
“Because her husband is Captain Anthony Cahill and her father-in-law is Deputy Chief of Police Martin Cahill.”

             
“Wow.  Impressive.  She married into a big name.”

             
“Yeah, but even without her marital connections, her family has a name of their own.  The Buchanan family has been coming for years, ever since she was a little girl.  Big contributors to the fundraiser.  They’re not here this year due to a family emergency.  She came in their place.  She has a long line of history family members who served.  I’ve spoken to her a few times.  Very friendly and easy to talk to.  She helped solve a case for a friend of mine up in Dallas.”

             
Sam nodded and mumbled, “Wouldn’t mind working with her.”

             
“If you do, you’ll be lucky.  Now, I’ll get the boys to get a statement and we’ll find who did this.  Sam, Alex, stick around while I get someone to get your statements.”

             
“Sure.”  She heard Alex answer as she nodded, resting her head against Mitch’s chest.  ”I’ll take her home, Mitch.  Don’t worry.”

             
Sam froze and Dad replied, “Thanks, son.  You take care of my baby girl.”

             
After what just happened, her father was allowing someone else to take her home?

             
“Yes sir.”

             
“Uh –” Sam started, but before she could say she could take care and go home by herself, Mitch kissed her head again and walked away, heading back inside. 

             
An arm slid around her waist and she looked up, her eyes narrowed to his.

             
He grinned down at her.  He brought his lips to her ear.  He whispered, “You’re mine now.”

             
She gasped and he took advantage of that, giving her the kiss that he knew left her dizzy, again.

             
Would she ever learn?

******

              Sam felt as if she was missing something. 

             
Something kept nagging at her, telling her that she left out something vital, something important that she needed to tell the guys.  No matter how hard or how long she thought, she couldn’t think of it.  The only solution for her was to just call when she remembered it.

             
After Mitch returned to the fundraiser, Sam and Alex had stayed over two hours to search every inch of grounds for any further clues that the perp may have left.

             
The box that was thrown into the bushes seemed to have been the same one as the donation box.  There appeared to have been freshly chewed gum stuck to it with a torn piece of ripped paper attached.  On that piece of paper was a handwritten partial note that indicated a location and a time. 

             
It clearly stated: 
Daisy’s Diner, Thursday 2:30 pm

             
No one knew for sure if this could have been a past meeting or a future meeting, but one thing for sure was that Sam will be at Daisy’s Diner, one way or another, on Thursday at 2:30 p.m.

             
It was now on its way to the lab for further DNA analysis.

             
Sam was still reeling from the mind-numbing kiss that she lacked the brain cells to function correctly. 

             
Damn Alex.

             
They finished their statements with the officers about half an hour after Mitch walked away (and Alex kissing her, again), providing them with as much small details as they could.  

             
As the officer walked away, Alex reached out and grabbed her hand, making her hiss in pain.  He gently lifted her hand up to examine it closely and saw that she had scraped it badly.  

             
Scanning down herself, she saw that her knees were bleeding as well.  

             
Great.  No skirts or shorts for a few days, unless she wanted to show off her boo-boos.

             
The side seams of the dress had ripped. 

             
Hopefully, Maggie wouldn’t blame her for this.  It was for a good cause, catching the bad guys who stole the money.

             
Before she could yank her hand from his hold, he dragged her towards the parking lot to his car, opened the passenger door, and shoved her in, closing it behind her.  Then, he rounded the car, got in behind the wheel and took off.

             
“What are you trying to do, kidnap me?” Sam asked.

             
“If I have to.  We have lots to talk about,” he answered calmly.

             
Sam was anything but calm.  “We have
nothing
to talk about.  Take me back.  Dad can take me home,” she told him.

             
“We’re in the car now.  I’m taking you home.  Why didn’t you drive yourself?  Where is your car?”  His voice was still calm, but it was also now curious.

             
Damn.  She really couldn’t go a day without someone mentioning her car.

             
“My car is not... cooperating with me at the moment,” she told him then remembered, “Wait, I forgot my stuff.”

             
“No you didn’t.  Maggie brought it out and put it in the backseat.” 

             
Sam turned to grab her clothes and checked her belongings.  Keys, camera, Burt’s Bee.  It was all there.

             
They pulled up to her complex moments later and before he could ask anything else, he parked his car and she immediately jumped out, walking as quickly as she could (without making it seem like she was running) to unlock her door and get in before he made it to the door.

             
That didn’t work.  She didn’t make it.

             
He tagged her as soon as she was within three feet to the door, snatching the keys out of her hands.  Keeping his hands to her waist, he pushed her forward, unlocked the door, and opened the door.  She tore away from his hands, heading straight for the kitchen counter.